Izzy raised her eyebrows. ‘How on earth did they do that without getting paint in their eyes? Last time I painted my bedroom wall I covered myself with the stuff. I had blue hair for weeks.’
‘They used scaffolding.’ The prince’s eyes lingered on her hair. ‘And the artist didn’t lie on his back, he simply tilted his head.’
‘And used non-drip paint. I like it.’ Izzy stared at the ceiling again, slightly alarmed to see it shifting and spinning. ‘I particularly like the way they’ve made it move.’
With a soft curse the prince caught her as she fell and scooped her up into his arms. As one of her shoes fell to the floor, she made an abortive grab for it.
‘My shoe!’
‘Next time don’t drink so much …’ This close she could see the dark shadow of his jaw and the perfect lines of his undeniably sexy mouth.
‘I didn’t drink too much. I just didn’t eat enough and that’s down to your lousy hospitality. You starve your guests. I guess that’s one way of making sure they don’t outstay their welcome.’ Horribly dizzy, she let her head flop against his shoulder and gave a low moan as he strode towards the elegant staircase. ‘This time it would be great if you could walk smoothly.’
His grip tightened on her. ‘Izzy Jackson, you are a disaster.’
‘I know, I know, but the tragedy is I don’t mean to be. All I wanted to do was sing,’ Izzy mumbled, her face buried in hard muscle. ‘But no one wanted to listen. Poor me.’
CHAPTER THREE
WONDERING how he’d come to be carrying her yet again, Matteo strode into the turret bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.
Depositing her in the centre of the bed he stepped backwards and undid the collar of his shirt, hoping to relieve the tightness in his throat.
Izzy gave a low moan and rolled over the bed, her arms flopping above her head as she tried to focus on him.
Matteo watched her efforts to rouse herself with barely concealed anger.
Why the hell had he done this to himself?
He should have let her sabotage the party. He should have left her there and just cleared up the mess afterwards. Or let Alex deal with it himself. Anything would have been better than putting himself in this situation.
She blinked and looked around her. ‘Where am I?’
Sleeping Beauty, Matteo thought grimly, but a thousand times more lethal.
‘You are in the turret bedroom.’
‘So you’re locking me in the tower just like the fairy tale. But how is the prince ever going to find me here? I hope he has sat nav fitted to his horse.’ Giggling, she rolled onto her side, the movement pushing her dress further up her thighs. ‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair, but not if it has strawberry streaks in it because no one wants a girl with strawberry streaks.’
Matteo tried to ignore the burn of lust that ripped through him. She had incredible legs. ‘This is our best guest suite, usually reserved for visiting royalty. It’s more than you deserve.’ Keeping one eye on her to make sure she didn’t fall off the bed, he snatched up the phone and ordered a pot of black coffee and food, well aware that his midnight order would trigger yet more speculation from his already fascinated staff.
As someone who conducted his relationships with utmost discretion, he knew that having someone like Izzy in his home would create a huge stir.
As he ended the call she sat up and slid shakily off the bed. She stood for a moment and wobbled slightly, testing that her legs would hold her. Bending over she pulled off her remaining shoe and almost fell. ‘Oops. Champagne really affects your balance.’
‘It has never affected mine.’
‘That’s because you’re horribly, boringly controlled.’
Matteo gritted his teeth. ‘Sit down.’
‘Not a good idea. My head is spinning.’
‘Per meraviglia, you are incorrigible.’ He grabbed her arms to stop her falling and she swayed and flopped against him, sighing into his chest.
‘I like it here. You smell so good.’
And she felt good. Soft. Fragile. Without those towering heels she was surprisingly petite. Matteo tensed his body, instinctively rejecting the effects of that knowledge because the alternative was unthinkable. ‘Behave yourself.’ He forced himself to release her, but she stayed welded to his chest and the contact sent a rush of heat across his skin.