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“Anna,” she said, after the phone call ended, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes, dear? What is it?”

Caroline ran the tip of her tongue across her lips.

“It’s just that—well, I’m so happy you’re feeling better.”

“Oh, I certainly am!” Anna beamed. “Thanks to you.”

Caroline shook her head. “I think you ought to give credit to your doctors,” she said gently. “And to yourself.”

The Princess frowned. “What is it, Caroline? You look so sad.”

“Well, I—I’m feeling a bit sad, actually.” She took a breath. “I suppose I’m homesick.”

“Then my news could not have come at a better time!” The old woman smiled happily. “Nicolo is bringing guests for dinner. Business acquaintances, you would call them, the ones with whom he spent last week.”

“I’m sure that will be lovely for you, Anna.”

“We have not had a dinner party in this house for such a long time! I know some of the guests who will be here, Caroline, the ones who work for Nico. Signor Tomba and his wife, and the Spinellis, and the Valentis and their charming daughter…” Anna smiled and reached for Caroline’s hand. “But the best news is that one of the guests is an American! Someone from your very own country, my dear. That should help your mood!”

Caroline shook her head. “I really don’t think so,” she said quickly. “I—er—I feel under the weather today. I’d just as soon have my dinner in my room.”

“Nonsense,” Anna said briskly. “An evening like this is just what you need.”

“Anna…”

The Princess’s hand tightened on Caroline’s. “Oh, please, my dear, don’t disappoint me! I could never enjoy myself, knowing you were in your room alone.”

Caroline stared at Anna. An evening spent in the company of Nicolo Sabatini? A sentence to purgatory would have sounded more enticing, but then, this would be her last evening in the palazzo.

“In that case,” she said with a little smile, “how could I turn down your kind invitation?”

Anna beamed happily. “Good, good. Now let me see… What sort of meal shall I ask Cook to prepare?”

* * *

BY EIGHT, Caroline was filled with misgivings. She should never have allowed her wish to please Anna to influence her, she thought as she slipped on a pair of delicate, high-heeled black silk pumps. She’d sworn she’d never spend another moment in Nicolo’s company and now here she was, about to endure who knew how many hours of it.

Caroline straightened and walked to the mirror. Well, it was too late to back out now. She’d just have to grit her teeth and survive the evening. At least, Anna would have this party to remember tomorrow, when Caroline an-nounced she was leaving. Perhaps it would make things easier.

She gave herself a critical glance, taking in the ankle-length, black lace gown with its full skirt, long, tapered sleeves and off-the-shoulder neckline. It was the perfect foil for her coloring; she looked cool and composed and that was how she would behave tonight, despite the fact that even the thought of having to spend an evening in Nicolo’s company made her stomach clench.

Carefully, she drew her hair back from her temples, securing it with a pair of jet clips that had been her grandmother’s. She screwed a pair of gold hoops into her earlobes, moistened her lips and pasted on the impersonal smile that had served her so well during her months on the catwalk.

The stairway was deserted. When she reached the atrium, she could hear the faint hum of voices and laughter coming from the library, where drinks were being served beside the fire—for the weather had reverted to normal, and there was a chill in the air this evening.

“There you are, dear,” Anna said as Caroline stepped into the room.

“We were just talking about you.”

Faces turned in her direction, and Caroline smiled politely.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Anna.”

“You’re not late at all, and, even if you were, you were worth waiting for. You look lovely.” Anna smiled as she took her hand and tucked it into hers. “Let me introduce you to some of the other guests.”

There were too many names to remember, especially when she was so tense. She looked around the room for Nicolo. Where was he? It was uncomfortable enough, knowing she would have to face him, but it was worse not to know when, to wonder if she would turn around suddenly and find him watching her with those cold, cold eyes…”

“The Valentis,” Anna said with a smile, “and their charming daughter, Sofia.”

Caroline forced her attention to the middle-aged couple, who smiled and greeted her in almost flawless English. Sofia, a beautiful, dark-eyed girl of perhaps eighteen, smiled shyly and whispered a breathy “Buona sera.”

“And last but certainly not least, your countryman, Mr. Robert Calder.”

Calder was a tall, rangy man in his thirties with an open grin and a Midwestern twang.

“Hi there,” he said, taking Caroline’s hand.

“I leave you in Mr. Calder’s good hands,” Anna said, and the American’s smile became a grin.

“Good thinking, Princess,” he said, with an easy charm that made up for any lack of etiquette. “Well, well, Miss Bishop. I never dreamed I’d find an American beauty in the heart of Rome.”

She smiled. “What brings you to Italy, Mr. Calder?”

“Call me Bob, please. My firm’s been seeking the backing of the Prince’s financial group,” he said, nodding toward the far side of the room, “and—”

But Caroline had stopped listening. Nicolo was there, standing just where Bob Calder had indicated, the only person who had not in any way acknowledged her presence. He was dressed formally, in a dark dinner suit that emphasized the width of his shoulders and the whipcord hardness of his body, his dark Roman head inclined slightly toward the woman standing beside him.

Something twisted deep inside her heart. Nicolo, she thought, oh, Nicolo…”

He turned and looked at her, as if in answer. For a tick of eternity, his sapphire eyes seemed to burn through her, and then he said something to the woman, touched her lightly on the arm, and started across the room.

She took an instinctive step back and brushed against a small marble horse that stood on a pedestal.

“Whoops.” Bob Calder grinned and put a steadying hand on her arm just as Nicolo reached them.

“Caroline.” His gaze went to Calder’s hand, then to her face. “I see you have met Mr. Calder.”

“She sure has, Your Highness.” Calder chuckled. “I war

n you, I’m going to monopolize this young lady all evening.”

She saw Nicolo’s jaw tighten. “Is that right?” he said evenly.

“We’ve got lots to talk about, haven’t we, Caro?” He grinned. “You don’t mind if I call you Caro, do you?”

“Please do,” she said. “It’s what everyone calls me back home.”

What was the matter with her? No one called her that; she was Caroline, she always had been. She’d always liked the plain, old-fashioned simplicity of the name. And why was she letting Bob Calder clamp his hand on her arm this way?

“How nice,” Nicolo said. His voice had grown even colder, but Calder didn’t seem to notice. He gave Caroline a quick, mirthless smile. “Anna was right when she said you should be asked to attend our little gathering.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed. So. He had not wanted her to be here any more than she’d wanted to come.

She managed to smile politely. “I’m beginning to be glad I let her talk me into coming.”

Nicolo’s jaw tightened, and she knew the barb had found its mark.

“I should like to see you alone for a moment, Caroline, if you please.”

Caroline looked at Bob Calder, “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked sweetly, but, before he could answer, Nicolo grasped her arm and took her aside.

“What kind of nonsense is this?” he demanded in a low growl.

“Nonsense? What do you mean, nonsense?” Caroline twisted a little against his hand. “Be careful, Your Highness, or you’re liable to make a spectacle of yourself.”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, Caroline—such things don’t mean a thing to me.”

“Not even in your own home?” They reached an unoccupied corner of the room. Nicolo swung her toward him and his hand dropped to his side.

“Why did you accept la Principessa’s invitation?” His eyes glittered with anger. “Surely you knew it was not my wish to have you here this evening?”

“It was not my wish to be here at all, starting with day one!” Caroline glared back at him. “But you can stop worrying. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Leaving?” His lips drew back from his teeth. “That is more nonsense! You will not leave here until I give you permission.”


Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance