Winter Wedding for the Prince(12)

And yet, his fingers kept toying with her lace sleeve, and she kept feeling beautiful, and the fantasies played in her head until the concert ended.

Until the lights in the hall brightened and she looked down at the orchestra seats only to find herself looking into the eyes of the one man capable of washing all her confidence away.

Fredo.

* * *

Armando noticed the moment the smile disappeared from Rosa’s face. It was inevitable, seeing how he couldn’t stop stealing glances at her all night long. He’d always considered her attractive, but tonight was different. With her hair clipped loosely at her neck, and that dress... She had to stop wearing those damn blazers and sweater sets. A body like hers, all soft curves made for a man to run his hands down, should never be hidden. Of course, he’d always known she had a good figure. What surprised him was that he was thinking about hands and curves. Apparently he wasn’t as sexually dead as he thought.

Now he followed her line of sight, zooming in on Fredo Marriota immediately. Rosa’s former husband was looking up at her with an expression of surprise and disbelief. Armando watched as, despite having a date of his own, the man openly assessed Rosa’s appearance. It was clear seeing Rosa in the royal box irritated him. His stare was callous and sharp and made Armando’s jaw clench.

At first, Rosa appeared to shrink under her ex’s scrutiny, reminding Armando of the conversation he’d overheard at the shelter. Her display of weakness lasted only for a moment, because the next thing he knew, she’d reached inside herself and found a backbone. Her shoulders straightened, and she met Fredo stare for haughty stare.

Shooting Fredo a side glance of his own, Armando made a point of slipping his hand around Rosa’s waist and pulling her tight to his side. “Well played,” he whispered. From Fredo’s vantage point, it must have looked like he was nuzzling her neck, since the man immediately blanched. “I had no idea he would be here.”

“Me neither. But then again, this is a large networking event, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“He doesn’t look very happy to see the two of us together.”

“It has more to do with seeing me in a capable position,” Rosa replied. “What are you doing?”

He’d leaned close again, so he could talk in her ear. “Playing with him.” The man could use a reminder of what he’d lost. “Every time I lean close, his eyes bulge like a frog’s, or haven’t you noticed?”

“I noticed. So has everyone else in the theater, for that matter. How will you explain to Mona if your picture ends up in tomorrow’s paper?”

Mona, whom he hadn’t thought about once since Rosa opened her front door. “She will understand,” he replied.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to cause trouble between you.”

And Armando wanted to put Fredo in his place. She moved to break free; he held her tight.

“I am positive,” he said. “I hardly think Mona’s the jealous type.” One of the reasons he’d selected her was her decidedly implacable nature. “Your ex-husband, however, looks as though someone stole his favorite toy.” Reaching up, he pretended to brush a stray hair from her cheek. To make Fredo seethe, he said to himself. Still, he felt an unfamiliar tightening at how her skin turned pink where his fingers touched.

“Insulted, more likely. I’m sure in his mind, I attended with you on purpose just so I could make him look foolish.”

“But that’s...”

“Ridiculous? Not to him. Do you mind if we leave now? The car is probably waiting out front.” She turned in his grip so that her back faced the orchestra, essentially dismissing the man they’d been talking about. Trying to dismiss the topic altogether, Armando suspected.

“Of course.” Casting one final look over her shoulder, he guided her from the box to the door where Vittorio and other members of the royal contingent waited patiently.

“Will His Majesty be heading anywhere else this evening?” Vittorio asked as they passed.

“Just home,” Rosa answered for them, forgetting she wasn’t his assistant tonight. “I mean, my apartment building first, and then His Highness will be heading home.”

“Actually...” Armando took another look behind him before looking back at Rosa. Despite her proud stance, the standoff with Fredo had taken a toll. The glow she’d maintained all evening had faded. He hated seeing her evening end on such a sour note. “We will both be returning the palace.”

“We will? Why?”

He smiled. Was it a trick of the light or were Rosa’s eyes always this soft and brown? What would they look like lit by hundreds of Christmas lights? Would they sparkle like chocolate diamonds?

He would find out soon enough.

“Royal decree,” he teased in answer to her question.

Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means it is a surprise.”

* * *

Normally, Armando wasn’t one for surprises. It had been years since he did anything remotely spontaneous, and while in the scope of things, this surprise wasn’t anything dramatic, he still found himself energized by the idea. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been excited. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, rapid pulse excited. Yet here he was, wrapped in a haze of exhilaration.

All over what was really something very silly. Didn’t matter. He still looked forward to his plan.

Because he wanted to be sure Rosa’s evening ended on a positive note.

It had nothing to do with wanting to see her eyes under Christmas lights.

“Have I told you that I do not like surprises?” Rosa remarked when the car pulled into the underground entrance behind the palace.

“Since when?” he replied. “I seem to recall you and your sister planning all sorts of surprises together before she and I got married.”

“Correction, Christina planned surprises. I was there solely for support and labor. My life was unpredictable enough. The last thing I needed was more unpredictability.”

He didn’t answer until the driver had opened the door and they stepped onto the pavement. “Unpredictable. You mean Fredo.” Her comments from earlier had stayed with him. They, along with the comments she’d made to Max at the shelter, were forming a very ugly picture.

Her steps stuttered. “I don’t want to talk about Fredo right now,” she said, looking to her shoes.

She never did, Armando wanted to say. That she continued to shut down the conversation when he asked hurt. Childish, he knew, but he needed her to open up to him. Why wouldn’t she? They were family, were they not?

Except the appreciation running through him as he watched her walk ahead of him didn’t feel very familial. All women should move so fluidly.

Good Lord, but his thoughts were all over the map this evening.

At least he wasn’t the only one having appreciative thoughts, he said to himself as he caught the overnight guard stealing a glance in Rosa’s direction. Yet again, his mind went back to Fredo, and he wondered what was wrong with the man that he could find fault with a woman as likable and attractive as Rosa.

Looking at her now, standing by the elevator with a bag clutched to her chest, her gaze contemplative and distant, something inside him lurched. She really was beautiful.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said. Thus far, the excursion wasn’t going as planned.

“No, I’m the one who should apologize. Here you are trying to do something nice, and I’m being difficult.”

Unlike at the concert hall when he’d pretended in front of Fredo, this time there was real hair clinging to her cheek. Armando brushed it free with the back of his hand. “You couldn’t be difficult if you tried.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to say neither are you,” she replied, ducking her head.

“Why not? It wouldn’t kill you to lie, would it?”

“Possibly.”

Normally, the banter diffused any tension that was between them, but this time, the air remained thick as they stepped on the elevator. Armando wasn’t completely surprised. A strange atmosphere had been swirling around them all evening.

At nearly four hundred years old, the grand palace of Corinthia could be broken into two major sections—the original front section, which was open to the public, and the royal residence and offices, which resided in the more modern rear section. When the elevator doors opened, Rosa instinctively headed toward the offices. Chuckling, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the original castle.

“Okay, I admit I’m curious now,” she said. “Isn’t this section of the building closed this time of night?”

“To the public. It is never closed to me. Come along.”

In the center, a quartet of stairways came together in a large open area known as the grand archway. Armando literally felt a thrill as he led her toward one of the staircases. Below them, the floor below the archway was pitched in blackness.

“Now,” he said, pausing, “I need you to wait here and close your eyes.”

“And then what? You will push me down the stairs?”

“I might, if you don’t do what I say.”

He waited until she obliged, then hurried down the darkened stairwell. Thankfully, years of childhood explorations left him with indelible memories of every nook and cranny. He located everything in a matter of minutes. When he finished, he positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs.