For his pains he got a withering look. ‘Silly you. I’ve got the express train,’ he told Rico pityingly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rico saw Ben’s aunt slip away. He settled down to play with his nephew. It was a lot easier when she wasn’t around.
Then he remembered what he had committed to do, and he felt his heart sink like lead. Even for Paolo’s sake, this was going to be excruciating.
Ben was asleep, drifting off even as she finished reading his bedtime story to him. Usually Lizzy just had a bath herself, then read until she fell asleep. Ben woke early, and there was no question of a lie-in. So she never minded early nights.
But tonight she had to go downstairs again.
And face the Prince.
Her stomach knotted itself. She couldn’t see what his solution might be—how this nightmare could be resolved.
Round and round her tired head went the drearily familiar litany. Two worlds colliding—no way out. No way out.
She knew only one thing—whatever the Ceraldis wanted, they were not going to part Ben from her. Not while she had breath in her body.
Grimly, she left the door to the bedroom ajar, letting in light from the landing, and then headed downstairs.
She was shown into the drawing room, and the Prince was already there, standing staring out over the near-dark gardens, the curtains undrawn. He had a glass of brandy in his hand, Lizzy registered.
She also registered something else. Something she instantly did her best to suppress. And yet it was impossible.
Impossible for her and every other woman in the world. Impossible to ignore that he was the most drop-dead gorgeous male she’d ever seen.
Embarrassment flushed through her. It seemed wrong to be so aware of his ridiculous good-looks. She had no business being aware of them.
Yet with that brooding expression on his face he just looked even more compelling.
He turned as she advanced into the room, and his eyes rested on her.
Immediately she felt her face mottling, as it always did whenever she came into his eyeline. Making her horribly conscious of her grim appearance.
Yes, I know—I look awful. There’s nothing I can do about it. So, please, just don’t look at me.
‘Won’t you sit down?’
Awkwardly, Lizzy lowered hersel
f on to the sofa. She watched the Prince walk across and take a seat opposite her, separated by a large square coffee table. He swirled the brandy slowly in his glass for a moment, staring down into it. Then his head lifted.
He started to speak.
‘I know you have found it very hard to accept what has happened,’ he began, his voice slow and careful, ‘but I hope that the reality of the situation has now finally sunk in. And that you have begun to appreciate that Ben’s life cannot continue as it was.’
She opened her mouth to speak, but he hadn’t finished.
‘Hear me out. Before you say anything, hear me out.’ He took a breath. It rasped in his lungs. ‘As I said, I understand that it’s difficult to accept, but you must—you have no choice. Ben is no longer the boy you thought he was. Whether you like it or not, you cannot deny his heritage. He is my brother’s son—the offspring of his marriage to your sister. The circumstances of their deaths are tragic beyond belief, but we must deal with the outcome. And the outcome is Ben—our mutual nephew and your adopted son. This is the reality. And the reality of his paternity is, therefore, that he is a prince. Nothing can change that. Not all the wishing in the world.’
His expression changed. Emotion flared in his eyes suddenly. ‘And I do not wish it. I would not wish it for a fraction of a second. Ben is a blessing—a gift from God. My dead brother’s son restored to us. No. Do not blanch.’ His voice had changed again, become measured and formal. ‘Just because he is a gift to us, to my family, it does not imply that he is not precious beyond price to you. Or…’ He paused, then said deliberately, ‘Or you to him. That is not the issue. I gave you my word I would not pursue any avenue of resolution to this situation that was premised upon Ben leaving your care. But…’He paused again, then resumed, with absolute emphasis on each word. ‘You must accept that his old life has gone. It cannot continue. Ben is a royal prince of the House of Ceraldi. Nothing can change that. His future must be based upon that fact.’ He took another sharp intake of breath. ‘And that means that he cannot live an ordinary life any more. He must come to San Lucenzo. With you.’
She had gone white, he could see. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and her breathing was uneven. But at least she was not interrupting him. He took another swift mouthful of brandy, feeling the fiery liquid burning in his throat.
He started speaking again.
‘There is no easy way out of this situation. But a way does exist. And that is what I am going to propose to you. We have a situation which urgently requires resolution. And there is a way to do so. A drastic way, but nevertheless, in the circumstances, the only way forward.’
He could feel cold pooling in his legs, slowly turning his feet to ice. He had to say this—he had to say this now. Before he cut and ran. Ran as if all the devils in hell were after him.