Authors: JT Schultz
Could she possibly…
Fear stopped him from finishing that thought, like always. Believing she still thought of him was nothing but a boyhood dream. He stopped his childish and spoiled ways the day he realized he loved her and had become a man.
“You like her, you say you don’t know her, but I wonder.” His father smiled and his tone held a note of promise. If his dad only knew―doubtful he would believe Luciano’s story and most likely commit him to a padded room in an asylum.
Downing the remainder of the scotch in his glass, he rose from the chair. “Need me to refill yours?” He darted a look to his dad’s glass,
still half full with scotch.
“No, I’m good.”
Luciano wasn’t good and definitely needed another drink.
What am I thinking? I’m not. How can I even consider telling him? Right. He won’t let it drop tonight and I’m just as shook up from hearing her voice as s
he is from hearing mine. Great―let insanity prevail.
Tonight he wasn’t going to get out of this conversation with his father. How could his father suggest seeing her? Luciano wanted to tell Chloe everything, most of all that she still held his heart. In
one way the memories were as fresh as if it was yesterday, and yet they seemed a lifetime ago. He had been young, she much younger―too young. Now the age difference was minor and his body ached for her. Picture after picture over the years, she grew before his eyes and seared deeper into his soul. He turned and threw himself down in the chair.
“Are you going to tell me or am I going to badger you some more?” The smile on his father’s face was sincere, but his expression came across as determined. He wasn’t going to let this go.
Chloe was a grown woman now, there was no way she would remember him. Part of him didn’t believe she’d forgotten him―something about her still wearing the necklace after all this time felt like a glimmer of hope. He would be a fool to think or believe otherwise. “It’s crazy and really, dumb if you want to know the truth.”
His dad waved his hand. “I know, I know, yo
u keep saying, instead just tell me the story.”
“I’m not going to California, it’s pointless. Like I said, she deserves more and I’m scarred and not worthy of her.” He paused and his chest ached from the invisible band tightening around him, making breath impossible. “You saw her; she’s beautiful and deserves so much more.”
And therefore I’m doomed.
“
Luciano―”
“Fine,” his sigh moved his shoulders, but did nothing to remove the weight on his chest. He sipped his scotch and stared at his father over the glass. “Once upon a time i
n Beverly Hills, California...”
“
What do you mean King Mario and Queen Ella are coming for a visit?” Chloe couldn’t believe she was holding this conversation. She was supposed to be her father’s partner. Instead, she resembled more a glorified secretary that doubled as concierge service.
Her father peered over his reading glasses
at her. “Chloe, sweetheart―”
“No, don’t even, Dad. The Queen is a royal pain in the ass. Seriously, she hates me.”
“
She doesn’t hate you. Mario and Ella adore you.” He chuckled and she longed to beat him with the nearest file folder until he came to his senses.
“
I said nothing about Mario. I like him and the king is a good man, though I don’t know why he just doesn’t send his son since you talk to him more than King Mario.”
Her dad simply shrugged, like always when the topic came up
, his expression turned nonchalant―unreadable and it irritated the hell out of her. “The prince is shy.”
Here we go again, same old excuse over same old topic.
“Whatever, he sounds like a hermit crab that does nothing but work.” She shook her head and frowned. That description fit her life as well. She didn’t even remember what a social life was―not that she longed for one. Chloe recalled what she knew. The Prince seldom entered in public and the paparazzi never―ever captured him on film. Rumor was there was an unspoken law never to photograph the prince. “I think there is something wrong with Prince Charming―possibly a mental disorder or phobia.”
“Careful, you sound like Stella.”
“
Don’t insult me.” She hated when her father mentioned her sisters, both had proved to be as useless in adulthood as they had during their teenagers. So much to be proud about there.
Not!
“Don’t make assumptions about the prince.” He paused and studied her a moment. “You usually aren’t one to judge.”
“
Enough about my sisters, my antics and everything else that is not related to why you waited until now―the last minute may I add―to tell me the royal family of Cammarata is arriving? Dad! You told me we were having a simple black tie get together.” Her head started to hurt.
“
It’s two extra people.” He sounded so calm. Of course he could be calm, he had nothing to worry about―he’d officially assigned that department to Chloe.
Oh-so typical of dear old dad.
“Right and one of them has certain tastes and criticizes everything, plus there is only one kind of champagne she drinks, Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque, it’s almost thirteen hundred a bottle and―”
“She's a nice lady, and she is also the queen to a country that has kept this family in luxuries. Hell Chloe, what do you think paid for all your degrees? Education i
s far from cheap.”
And here comes the guilt and the talk of how I’m over educated and how can
I ever expect to find a man―
“What are you thinking?” his expression softened and her heart raced
. He really didn’t want her to be honest did he?
“I was waiting f
or the rest of the you-are-too-educated-for-your-own-good speech, which is then followed by how I need a good man.” She had thrown herself into bettering herself, to become smarter and achieve up and beyond her own expectations. The more she worked and studied, the less she slept and that prevented nightmares. Nightmares and loneliness.
Chloe avoided relationships and didn’t date much. She worked and wanted to show her father she was capable
of conducting international trade. Her sisters proved to be nothing but snobby heiresses with nothing but gold digging tendencies and Georgina’s choice of husbands were even more greedy than her sisters.
Her father chuckled and shook his head. “I think I've given that one too many times.” He took off his glasses, set them on the desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose, before he cast a leveled gaze. “I wasn’t expecting them to come, but Mario wants to go golfing.”
She had no clue why she was arguing, the Cammarata royal family’s arrival was imminent. “This party is tomorrow night.”
“
I’m aware of when it is. I’m asking you to make a couple calls and accommodate the royal family of Cammarata.” He smiled warmly.
She lowered her head and started to make notes when her father’s words sunk in. Lifting her head, she was sure she had misheard. “Accommodate?”
He grinned.
I hate that smile.
“They’re going to stay with us again. It’s not like we don’t have the room. “
“Fifteen bedrooms, twenty bathrooms and my mother who loves having company, no we have ample room. Should be a good time, does mom know they’re coming?”
“
I let her know last week there was an off chance.”
Unreal, her dad was completely unreal. “You told mom, but failed to mention it to me?” Of all the stupid things. Why did he always do this to her? Wait until the last m
inute before springing things on her―especially company with picky tastes and a queen with a hate on for her―despite what dad said, Ella didn’t like her and she wasn’t sure why.
“I got busy.” He frowned. “What’s bothering you? You haven’t been yourself all
morning and your sour attitude seems to have lingered.”
Lord grant me strength.
“You have been completely out of sorts since this morning.” Concern coated his words and she knew he waited for an explanation.
Right after I took that call.
He narrowed his gaze and studied her intently. “Are you sure things are okay?”
She couldn’t tell him the truth. “I have a lot on my mind.”
I’m thinking of a frog. I think I need medication and therapy―again. Hell, just get me a straightjacket.
Her heart tightened and she swallowed back her reservations and insecurities. “It’s nothing.”
He doesn’t believe me, I can tell by the look on his face. Please don’t ask.
“You do that a lot when you are nervous or thinking.”
She lifted a brow. “Do what?”
“Play with your necklace.” His eyes darted to where her hand touched the pendent on the chain.
Her hand lowered. She hadn’t realized she was playing with it. “I love this necklace.”
Her father smiled and his face softened. “I know.” His expression took a far away look and became unreadable. “Now are you going to make sure that the staff is aware of all the details your mother may have overlooked for tomorrow night and make sure the guest rooms are ready?”
“You have a conference call tomorrow night with the Trade Minister of Romania.”
“
I’ll remember and I have you to remind me should I forget.” He smiled and winked. “Of course, you could always sit in on that conference call. Its over cement for the buyer in Dallas who can’t make the get together.”
“
Right, okay, well, I’ll take the call then. It will give me a chance to be anti-social and make sure the concierge at The Beverly Wilshire is up to speed on everyone and their whims.” She wanted to be a broker like her father and get involved on the transactions, but he always found reasons for her to play girl Friday instead. The situation was getting old and her patience thinned more by every dry cleaning order picked up and favorite food ordered. Taking the call tomorrow night definitely was a step in the right direction. True her father paid her exceptionally well the same as if she was a partner with him, but for once, she wanted to feel as if she had truly earned the money.
“
I don’t want you to be too anti-social in that regard. I expect your presence at the black tie. I wish you were more like your sisters.”
Gold-diggers?
“Besides there are going to be lots of very wealthy―“
“Dad, no matchmaking. I refuse t
o go out with anymore stuffed shirt businessmen. I’m happy with my life and I certainly don’t need a man getting in the way of my career.”
He sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if you are. Happy, that is.”
“I don’t want a wallet and lifestyle.” She had other goals, like working and gaining new knowledge, besides with her recent flare up of paranoia she wondered if any man would want her.
I want―
“Things are not always the way we think. Sometimes they are very different.” Something in his tone almost had her believe him. Almost, not quite though, she was educated. “Often ideas or notions we had in the past are changed by truths we never thought imaginable.”
Sighing she groaned inwardly not needing one of her father’s analogies. “Dad, what are you talking about?”
His lips curled into a smile. “I know there is something bothering you, and that’s fine, you don’t have to tell me but I have an idea though.”
Doubtful, but I’m not up for arguing.
“Right.” He was worse than a fortune cookie at times. “Is there anything else about tomorrow night I need to be made aware of?” She rose from the chair and planned her afternoon mentally.
“No, that should be all.” He continued to smile and uneasiness worked its way over her back with the tightening of her shoulders and neck muscles.
Running through her agenda she walked to the door. She had so much to do and frog on the brain. Not a good combination, but she had to let it go. Chloe was almost twenty-nine and way too old for fairy tales. Especially any involving frogs.
Luciano couldn’t believe he now stood in the house he had avoided on most of his visits. Occasionally, he would end up at the house, but even then...
His father had been right last night. He hadn’t been in America for seven years, a long time to be away, and steering clear of any contact with Chloe. Last night he’d heard her voice and every emotion rose to the surface. He had told his father the story of Ramona and how she had turned him into a frog and
, oddly, his father believed him then spent half the night convincing Luciano to join him and his stepmother. For an odd reason Ella had been less than thrilled over the news that Luciano would be joining them on the trip.
Albert had been thrilled to see him and had convinced him to stay at the house with his parents. The house was a quarter of the size of the palace in Cammarata and yet he had still failed to see
her
. Part of him thankful, the other wished for the rejection and pity would just hurry up and come so he could move on with his life.
He walked down the stairs into the heart of the house. People from around the world had gathered. All but his family was staying in suites at The Beverly Wilshire. He hated being in public. He hid his face from the world and his grotesque scar. Though his father assured him it wasn’t that bad, he knew in reality how the mark took from the once handsome face he’d had.
“
There he is.” Albert walked over to him and grinned. “I’m so glad you came, I have to admit I was surprised. I’ve missed you.”
The sincerity and warmth of his friend’s words helped his edgy nerves. “We talk a couple times a week. How could you miss me?”
“It’s not the same as having you around.” He winked and glanced around. “I’m really happy you came.”
“
Thank my father. He spent most of the night and part of the morning convincing me to join him and Ella.” A small smile tugged his lips. “I finally told him the truth.”
The older man stopped and blinked. “Even…” He glanced around.
“I told him
everything
.” He assured, still a little stunned that his dad had believed every detail, down to his froggy life.
“
Have you seen her?” Albert’s voice pulled him back to the present and the expression revealed the old man’s anticipation.
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen any of the girls, nor met Georgina’s husband number three.”
“They’re both here, Chloe is in a meeting, a conference call. Let’s get you a drink in the mean time.”
His insecurities over his looks bothered him slightly
. He knew that though the scar was noticeable it wasn’t as horrific as he perceived. The mark though had kept him out of the limelight and away from social gatherings at every chance. Now he would be crossing the path of the woman he knew as a girl and risked her rejection. “I could use a drink, I worry Chloe won’t want me or won’t react well.”
“Relax.” His friend assured. “She'll adore you.”
“
I don’t know.” He wished he shared Albert’s confidence.
Albert walked him over to a large bar and ordered two scotch on the rocks. “What did your father say?”
“My dad thinks I should talk to Chloe and suggested I be honest with her, tell her I was the amphibian and friend those years ago.”
“
She might believe you.”
Or she might think I
am a freak.
“I know she thinks of you―well, a certain frog from time to time. She wears―“
“The necklace I know, but she doesn’t know who gave the ludicrously over priced jewelry to her.” His heart tightened. He wasn’t blind to the sideways glances and the whispered murmurs around him. Luciano suddenly felt like a sideshow freak, despite how exaggerating the term may be.
Coming here was a bad idea.
“She’s been unsettled since she heard your voice.” The sadness wasn’t hard to miss. “Luc, I think she...” He glanced behind him and Luciano closed his eyes, not needing to look to know that Chloe had entered the room. His eyes opened and he slammed back the scotch before he turned.
She was beautiful. The pictures hadn’t even come close to capturing her beauty. The navy blue dress held a shimmer and clung to every curve perfectly. Her eyes darted around the room and a long slender hand swiped a champagne flute off a tray.
“She’s still shy in crowds.” Her father informed him.
Shy or not, to Luciano, she was the most breathtaking creature he’d ever seen. He glanced at Albert and his smile broadened as he set his drink down. “I’ll be back.”
His friend nodded and Luciano walked through the room toward where the woman he longed to hold stood. She was stunning. Georgina approached her and turned her so he had the perfect view of her backside. She was tall, slender with curves in all the right spots. His heart raced, his palms sweat and his groin stirred from the thought of her body against his. He was thankful his suit coat covered the ache as he approached her.
“So help me, Georgina,
Dad has given you enough money. No, I refuse to give you more.”
“
Chloe don’t be the bitch, I’m leaving Donald.”
“
Lord, I paid for the last divorce if I recall.” Chloe shook her head. “I hate the fact you’re my sister.”
Georgina’s eyes darted to him and she grinned. “I’m sorry have we met?”
He opened his mouth to speak when Stella’s squeal echoed through the room and in a swoop of red stood next to her sisters. “I am so glad to be here.” She eyed him up and down. “You’re not half bad.” Her gaze moved to the scar and her lips pursed.
Chloe spun around and her big brown eyes looked at him through long thick lashes. His eyes locked with hers and a smile came to her mouth. His heart raced faster and his libido kick started. “Hello.” The familiar shyness from her youth dusted across her pretty features.
“
Hello.” Luciano’s gaze darted to her lips, so pink and full, he longed to kiss them. Meeting her eyes again, he smiled.
A thoughtful expression crossed her face. “Have we met?”
His mouth opened to speak.
“What, Chloe, possessed you to wear this dress; navy is not a good color for you.”
“
I always like her in blue.” The words fell off his tongue before thinking. All three sisters turned and stared at him. Chloe’s eyes widened then blinked and her eyes met his before noticing the scar. Pain washed over her features, her lashes slammed shut and the champagne flute slid from her fingers shattering to the floor.
“
Excuse me.” she turned on her heel, hurried to the entrance and slipped through the heavy doors and into the night.
Her reaction to him was worse than he had counted on. Struggling with the war of emotions in him, he stared at the threshold she had disappeared through.
“So are you an ex-boyfriend?” Georgina asked.
A strong hand touched his shoulder and he turned to the contact. He looked at his father, shook his head, and couldn’t speak
. What was there to say? His gaze flickered to Albert and his friend smiled.
“Go talk to her.” His dad encouraged and nodded in the direction Chloe had escaped.
“
So you are an ex-boyfriend?” Stella repeated her sister’s earlier question.
“
She doesn’t want to believe.” Albert whispered. “Go, she needs to know the truth. You might be surprised by her response.”
Luciano grinned at the blondes. “No ladies not her ex-boyfriend, but with any luck her future.”
Georgina gasped. “I know you now. You’re the prince.”
And the lady finally remembers, introduced twice in the past and I lived with her as a frog.
“Yes, I am.”
Both women dropped their jaws in shock as he turned to his father and Albert. “Wish me luck.”
Albert shook his head. “You won’t need it.”
He nodded and turned away.
“
Why does Chloe get the prince when I’m the oldest?” Stella’s spoiled plea reminded him of days gone by and he bit his tongue. Chances were high Chloe was in the garden, which meant she would have had to walk around the house. He sidestepped both men and headed to the hub of people toward the patio door. Nearing the doors, he glanced to where his stepmother stood and met her icy blue gaze. Her stare penetrated him and for whatever reason, she wasn’t happy.
He honestly didn’t like her and right now there was another lady, who he liked an
d somewhere inside―still loved. He needed to talk to Chloe, she deserved the truth. He hoped she would listen, more so, he wished that she remembered a frog.
“
I’m crazy.” Chloe whispered the words into the night then inhaled deep. Pricks pierced behind her eyes and a watery assault was imminent. She had to be insane and tomorrow morning she needed to see a shrink―everything still hurt so much. “I’m too old,” she breathed into the night as tears clung to her lashes and her heart refused to beat. She closed her eyes as the liquid heartache slipped onto her cheek.
Chloe was losing her mind. Usually, the insanity was never this bad. First the phone call yesterday morning, then tonight when she stared into a stranger’s eyes
. He’d reminded her of the man from her dreams. Her shoulders lifted then fell as she sobbed quietly. She clutched the railing in the garden and lowered her head. How could things get so out of control again? How could she be so illogical to think that somewhere her friend―a mere frog still lived and as a man no less?
Only the stranger held such a strong resemblance to the man in her dreams, the similarities were almost uncanny. Uncanny and painful. She continued to cry and didn’t even care about the footsteps onto the terrace. It didn’t matter she was crying. “I’m delusional.”
Large strong hands grabbed the railing on either side of hers. A strong chest grazed her back and hot breath teased her ear. “Don’t fret
Il mio cuore.”
The rich baritone worked over her body and down her spine, so familiar and so sexy her lungs ceased to function.
Her hands gripped the rail tight turning her knuckles almost white. “Go away.” Her heart ached to the core of her soul. She hurt and knew sanity was gone; she would have to double her medication tonight before bed.
The nightmares will be worse.
“Maybe
you need a story.” His voice was a low whisper and identical to every recollection.
Hot tracks seared her cheeks and she struggled to suppress a sob. This had to be her mind playing tricks or a sick joke by her siste
rs to wear her down and make her give them money.
“Once upon a time in Beverly Hills, California, a young, handsome man―“
A sob cracked through the air―it had left her mouth as her body trembled. The large hands moved off the rail and strong arms wrapped around her pulling her flat against his chest. She turned in the embrace and, with tears in her eyes, blinked. A strange man held her, but the voice, the words and even the features of the stranger were identical to her favorite memories and some of her scariest dreams.
She scanned his face and beneath the moonlight and dim terrace lights glanced to the scar running above his brow down to his temple. Her gaze met his of sapphire blue and she feared to believe. Despite the scar that ran thick and deep to his temple, he was still gorgeous
with dark blue eyes, long black lashes, strong square jaw and a large solid body. He had at least four inches on her five foot ten frame and she was in heels that gave her another inch.
He released his hold on her, he didn’t speak, but neither did she. His hands raised and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She should flinch and be scared over this bizarre moment, yet she wasn’t. His touch was gentle and his smile made him even better looking. “I remember a young lady crying over
wanting to be as pretty as her sisters, I couldn’t wipe her tears then, and tonight she out shined them both, yet again tears fall.”
Oh God, no―this isn’t real.
His handsome face broke into a weak smile, making him even better looking. “Only, I wasn’t about to let the opportunity to wipe them away this time escape.”
“Oh, God! Luc.” Her voice was just above a whisper and more tears started to pierce her eyes.
“No,” he grinned. “I’m not God, but I’m Luke with a C, not K-E.”
“This is crazy, I’m crazy.” She stepped back, but his hand caught her wrist and pulled her against him.
“You aren’t crazy Chloe. You befriended a frog and loved him unconditionally. In a rush to impress some boy, you kissed that frog on the way out the door, and turned him back into a prince.”
His hold stayed on her wrist and her hand lifted to her necklace. Her mind reeled and everything started to make sense. “I’m not crazy?”
“No and contrary to what Stella says you look good in blue, but then I’ve told you that several times.” She recognized his sometimes snobby tone and wasn’t sure if the urge to laugh or cry was more overwhelming.
Her wrist slipped from his touch and her hand covered her mouth. She removed the fingers from her other hand off the chain with the pendant and pressed her palm against his cheek. He turned his face and kissed her skin. Heat radiated through her palm and spread through her body. She lifted toward his scar. “You’re Prince Luciano Mercury.” Things started to fall together in her mind.