Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) Page 6

  “Perhaps you often find your pleasure by pretending to be a princess.” His snide tone of voice was so at odds with the charm she remembered. “A simple teacher would certainly not find her way into a prince’s bed any other way.”

  “Don’t be cruel!” she exclaimed. Then she dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “I was doing a favor, that’s all. I didn’t expect to meet you. I didn’t expect to…”

  Vittorio’s face went blank. “Enough. I will not hear any more of your lies.” For a hot-blooded Mezzanoan, his voice was ice cold. “When I talk to your cousin, I will let her know that you played your part perfectly.”

  Mia watched Vittorio stalk away from her. Tears she could no longer hold back trickled down her cheeks, leaving icy tracks on her skin. She should have never taken the children out of school today. Now, instead of the lovely memories of her night with Vittorio, she would forever be haunted by the contempt on his face before he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

  Chapter Five

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  Were there no honest people left in the world? Could no one speak the truth to him? While he was growing up, people Vittorio had thought were his friends had often lied to get what they wanted from him. He’d learned recently that his royal advisors had been less than forthcoming with the state of the country. Even his father was guilty of lies of omission. And now this woman…

  Back home in Mezzano, Vittorio stood on the balcony off his bedchamber and stared out into the darkness, seeing nothing but bright blue eyes and a deceptive smile. The connection he’d felt the night of the ball with the woman he thought was Princess Birgitte was something he should have known was too good to be true. She’d been playing a game, while he thought he’d found the perfect woman to rule at his side.

  He knew he’d been foolish for thinking he could find anything close to a love match. To have been tempted by this woman, even for a moment, was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He was going to be king. The inevitability had lurked in the back of his mind always, of course. But the certainty of it now hovered over him like the dark storm clouds in the Stagatland skies.

  Now, when he should be focusing on the upcoming meeting with his military advisors, all he could think of was Mia and how she’d lied to him. And how she’d touched him. Made him smile. Promised him things she couldn’t deliver. Could never deliver.

  At least not in the long term.

  But she owed him something for the lies she’d told. For pretending to be the person he wanted her to be. For the unspoken promise of the perfect future she’d dangled in front of him only to snatch it away.

  Vittorio spun around, his gaze falling on the bed. It was freshly made, but he saw it as it had been last weekend, the covers thrown back, the sheets rumpled, a long, lean woman stretched along the mattress, flashing that temptress smile. Her hair had been spread out around her like platinum silk. He rubbed his thumb and finger together, remembering the softness of the strands as they had slipped through his fingers.

  The memory of her taste lingered on his tongue, leaving him hungry for more of her sweetness. He craved her like a powerful drug. She’d invaded his body, gotten under his skin, into his bloodstream until he couldn’t think of anything else. He wanted her more than nearly anything else. She still tempted him from so far away.

  He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and drew out the pair of long white gloves he’d tucked into his jacket pocket that night after he’d stripped them from her arms. Her scent clung to the soft fabric and he didn’t have to lift them to his face to catch it now.

  This woman had robbed him of the happy future he thought he would have. He deserved some compensation for the lies she told. She had to pay for her deception.

  Vittorio crumpled up the gloves and tossed them back in the drawer. He strode through his suite and flung open the door. He shouted down the hall. “Rico!”

  Two days after she saw Vittorio in front of her grandfather’s bakery, Mia was grateful for misbehaving students. As she and Annika broke up the fight over in the corner of the classroom, Mia barely had time to think about how angry the prince had been. Or how good he’d looked. Or how much she missed him.

  Eric, of course, had been the instigator, but all the children had cabin fever. Even their trek to the bakery earlier in the week hadn’t given them enough of a chance to burn off all that excess energy adults wished they possessed.

  “At least there’s no blood this time,” Annika said as she ducked tiny flying fists and hauled Lars off of Eric. The rest of the children, who’d gathered around the fighting boys, groaned with disappointment when their entertainment was interrupted.

  How could they have gotten into that much trouble in the few minutes she and Annika had been looking over progress reports? Mia pointed to two chairs up at the front of the classroom. The boys hung their heads as they trudged across the room.

  “Miss Holmberg, you’re not going to tell the headmistress, are you?” Eric asked.

  “Don’t you think I should report that a fight broke out in my classroom?” she asked with a frown. Both boys shook their heads vigorously. “Then you should think before you call names or throw punches.”

  “Yes, Miss Holmberg,” the boys, best friends, said in unison. They took the chairs and grinned at each other.

  Mia hid a smile as she turned back to the class. But the admonition she was going to give the rest of the students was forgotten when the door to the classroom opened and Betty, the headmistress’s assistant, strode into the room. Eric and Lars gasped, but she didn’t look their way.

  Betty stepped up to Mia and spoke softly. “Miss Holmberg. You are needed in the office immediately. Miss Lund can take over your class.”

  “Yes, of course.” Possible reasons, all horrifying, ran through her head. Was one of her parents suddenly sick? Had someone been in an accident? Had her grandfather collapsed in the bakery? Betty’s high heels echoed off the walls down the long hallway. Mia’s heart pounded with dread. But when she followed her into the headmistress’s office, Mia shock was even greater when she saw a tall, broad, bald Mezzanoan bodyguard standing with Mrs. Svensson.

  The elderly headmistress was dwarfed by Rico. “Oh, good, Miss Holmberg. This is the head of security for the crown Prince of Mezzano. He is here to accompany you to Mezzano.”

  Mezzano? “What? Why?”

  “Prince Vittorio sent me for you,” Rico said, his deep rich voice somehow holding more authority than her superior.

  Vittorio was furious with her. This couldn’t be good.

  Vittorio had sent for her. Her heart warmed at the thought.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  The headmistress spoke up. “The prince has talked to King Karl and explained his need for a temporary teacher in Mezzano. I understand you met him the other day when you were out with the children?”

  That was the excuse he was using to take her away from her home, her country? “Um. Yes. Briefly.” Mrs. Svensson and Betty nodded as if that answered everything.

  “You obviously made a grand impression on His Royal Highness,” Mrs. Svensson said with a broad smile. “How wonderful.”

  Mia’s heart pounded. She could see Vittorio again. All she had to do was agree to walk out the door.

  “We must go,” Rico said. He took her arm in his iron grip and began to lead her out of the room while the other women merely looked on.

  Mia dug in her heels, tried to stop him from dragging her out of the room. “Wait. No. I can’t go to Mezzano. I have responsibilities. My class.”

  “Miss Lund will take over your class until you return,” Mrs. Svensson said smoothly.

  “We are very proud of you, Mia. You will be representing Stagatland and this school internationally. It is a great honor.”

  “Come,” Rico said.

  Just because someone was royalty didn’t mean they could have someone else kidnapped in broad daylight. Did it? She glared at Rico. “I don’t want to go t
o Mezzano,” she whispered loudly, although she was afraid it was a lie.

  He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He lowered his voice. “Don’t make this difficult, Miss Holmberg. The plane is waiting.” He shifted just slightly, and she caught a glimpse of the grip of a gun beneath his well-tailored suit jacket and long black coat.

  He nodded at the other women. “Thank you, ladies.” Betty opened the door for them and he drew Mia out into the hallway. Two additional tall, broad men in matching suits and long black coats fell in behind them at the end of the hall.

  Mia laughed, a short bark. “He had to send three armed goons to kidnap one lowly schoolteacher?”

  Rico’s laugh sounded more good-natured. “Goons? You like that, boys? She called us goons.” The men all joined in the laughter. He led them toward a rear entrance. “This way.”

  “Wait. I need my things.” She knew there would be no way she could fight these guys, but they had to give her a chance to get her phone. Then she could contact her parents and Anni and let them know what was going on. “I have to get my purse. In my desk. I have to go back.” Rico didn’t break stride. “No.”

  Panic set in and she yanked on her arm but he didn’t budge. His grip was strong but not bruising on her upper arm. “I don’t have a change of clothes.” They’d reached the door. Her heart raced. Through the window she could see the snow blowing. “I don’t even have my coat.”

  One of the men behind her took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. “No,” she cried out. “You’ll freeze.”

  The three men ignored her. They surrounded her, pushed open the door and shoved her into a limousine that was only a couple steps away from the building. The car took off almost before the door shut behind them.

  Mia leaned against the seat with a huff. She turned to Rico. “So why does he really want me in Mezzano?”

  He shrugged. “He didn’t tell me anything. Just to bring you to him.”

  “And you do whatever he tells you to do? Even kidnapping?” Rico glanced away. “Of course you do.”

  It didn’t take long for them to reach the airport. She was hustled onto the private plane and all three goons ignored her for the entire flight. She was left alone to remember the fairy tale night she spent with Vittorio. And the look of anger on his face the last time she saw him.

  Mia had never expected to find herself back in Mezzano. She stepped off the plane into the sunshine and was overwhelmed by the heat. Rico and his two guards surrounded her again as they rushed her into another car to bring her to the palace.

  When they reached the royal residence, Mia was ushered to the suite of rooms she’d been in with Vittorio less than a week before. Left alone, Mia prowled around the enormous suite which was already beginning to close in on her. She had walked through here the other night, but they hadn’t lingered on the way to the bedroom. She couldn’t relax in the lushly furnished sitting room today, not when she didn’t know what was going on.

  As she wandered around, trying to burn off some of her nervous energy, she discovered the door at one end of the sitting room opened onto a well-appointed office. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the back wall. She checked the desk but could find no telephone or computer.

  She wandered back out into the sitting room. The upholstered furniture was covered in gold brocade. The wooden tables and cabinets were decorated with ornate carvings. This space was so different from her simple home in Stagatland.

  The large windows in the sitting room overlooked the grounds at the rear of the palace. What looked like a neglected garden in the corner caught her eye. It was surrounded by a tall, ornamental fence. Her green thumbs itched to get in there among the flower beds and coax life back into the ignored ground. Mia wondered why it was no longer tended when the rest of the grounds around the palace were flourishing.

  She stepped away from the window. She didn’t need to know. She also didn’t need to wait around here for an overbearing, arrogant man. A prince who thought he could manipulate her.

  Mia stomped across the floor, but when she flung open the door, she wasn’t completely surprised to see one of the men who had come with Rico to Stagatland standing in the hallway, facing the door. One of the tall, broad shouldered, unsmiling guards. But this was the one who had given her his coat.

  Mia sighed and folded her arms. “Tony, is it?” she asked.

  “Yes, miss.” She thought he almost smiled. His dark hair was cut close to his head. His loose fitting suit jacket probably concealed one of those guns she’d had a peek of earlier in the day.

  “Are you guarding me, Tony?”

  “I’m here for your protection, Miss Holmberg.”

  She stepped into the doorway and Tony shifted on his feet. “So I can leave this room if I want to? Wander the palace? Walk out the front door?”

  “The prince wishes you to remain in his chambers until he arrives,” he replied. He was being polite, but she knew he would not allow her to leave the room.

  “Of course, he does,” she replied wryly. For an insane instant, she wanted to test the theory, wanted to dash past him and run down the long hall, wanted to rant and scream and kick and thrash. If nothing else, it would burn off more of her anger and frustration. “How long do I have to wait here?”

  “The prince will join you as soon as he is free.” He appeared apologetic, but he didn’t move from his spot in the hallway.

  “Well, I’m thirsty. And hungry. You guys kidnapped me before I was able to eat any lunch.”

  Tony actually looked a little guilty. “I can have some refreshments brought up to you.” She let out a deep sigh. Tony was just doing his job. She’d have to wait until she saw Vittorio to vent all the anger building up inside her. “Thank you.”

  Mia stepped back into the room and closed the door behind her. She probably should have at least tried to get past the guard. She should be stronger. Braver. But she was afraid she knew the real reason she didn’t try to escape, why she hadn’t given more than a token resistance when Rico appeared that morning.

  She wanted to see Vittorio again.

  Perhaps that made her weak, but she knew she wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to see him again. Even if it was just to give him a piece of her mind. Maybe once she saw him again, she’d realize he wasn’t as handsome as she remembered. Maybe this time when he spoke she wouldn’t remember the seductive whispers that made her body come alive. Maybe this time she wouldn’t feel that soul-deep pull when she looked into his eyes.

  She could only hope that by seeing him again she would no longer want him so badly it hurt.

  After she finished a delicious sandwich and a cup of tea, Mia could no longer resist the closed door at the other end of the sitting room. She knew it led to Vittorio’s bedroom. His scent lingered in the air around her, overwhelming her with erotic memories. Her skin tingled as she remembered the things she and the prince had done in that room. The words he’d whispered to her. The way he had filled her.

  Her hand was on the door knob almost before she realized it. She slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the large bedroom. There was the chair where she’d draped her gown after he’d slowly lowered the zipper and let the dress fall to the floor. She could still feel his lips tracing the skin of her neck above the diamonds she had yet to return to her cousin.

  Mia crossed to the bed full of passionate memories. The way they’d fit together as if they’d been made to make love with each other. The sound of sexy chuckles and erotic moans.

  The smile on his face, so unlike the last time she saw him in Stagatland.

  Her back was to the open bedroom door as her hand caressed the smooth wooden footboard. Her head was full of the memories of the sounds of lovemaking, so she wasn’t aware that Vittorio had arrived until he strode into the room and spoke.

  “You’re here.”

  She whirled around, ready to snap at him, ready to give him a piece of her mind for having her snatched from her classroom and hauled from
her homeland, but one look at him and the words melted on her tongue.

  The prince wore a tailored business suit, but it had long ago lost its crispness. His silver tie was askew, his dark hair mussed as if he’d run his fingers often through the thickness. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes. She was about to ask if he’d had a rough day, but fortunately his next words reminded her that she was not sympathetic.

  “I see you want to get right down to business.” He sauntered over to the bed and pressed down on the mattress, as if testing the firmness.

  “I have no business with you,” she snapped even as her body trembled.

  “But you do.” His grin was evil through and through, yet her body tingled. His gaze pinned her where she stood. “Mia.” The sound of her name on his lips should have sounded seductive, instead it almost sounded like a threat.

  She shivered. “You have no right dragging me from my home and bringing me here against my will.”

  He shrugged out of the suit coat and placed it on the mattress. Then he turned back to her and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Rico assured me you came willingly.”

  “Of course he did. When three massive men with weapons strapped to their hips surround me and tell me they have orders to bring me to you, what was I supposed to do?”

  “Exactly what you did, of course.” His voice was flat, cold even. So unlike the warm, charming Vittorio she remembered. “There was nothing else you could have done.” He took a step toward her. “No way you could have refused.”

  Her heart stuttered and she took a step away. She missed the Vittorio she remembered.

  “So are you going to tell me why you brought me here?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he unknotted his tie, stripped it from his collar and tossed it on the bed. Her pulse raced as she watched him unbutton his white shirt and pull the tails from the waistband of his trousers. When the shirt parted to reveal his muscular chest and impressive abs, Mia refused to show him how much the sight affected her. She swallowed and waited silently for him to answer her question.