Scandal With a Prince (17 page)

* * *

A second ring, then a third.
 
“I need to look.
 
It could be Anna.”

Reluctantly, he released Megan, scooting to give her access to the small cordless phone perched on her nightstand.
 
She peeked at the caller ID, blew out an exasperated breath, then picked up.
 
In a surprisingly buoyant tone, she said, “Hi, honey.
 
What’s up?”

Stefano stretched to retrieve his own phone from the pocket of his slacks and listen to his voicemail.
 
A call about tomorrow’s meeting.
 
He could return that later.
 
An inquiry from his pilot about the flight schedule.
 
A run-through of his week’s schedule from his secretary.
 
He shoved the phone back into the pocket as Megan wrapped up with Anna.

“She’s leaving the beach in an hour to go to dinner,” Megan said as she clicked off the phone and flipped over to face him.
 
“Won’t be back until after eight.
 
She’ll call when they leave the restaurant.”

“Perfect.”
 
He punctuated the word by pulling her body back on top of his.
 
He groaned with satisfaction as the curves of her breasts pressed against his chest, then swooped her hair out of the way so he could see her smile.
 
“Because I desperately want to make love to you again.”

“Already?”

“I did promise hours.”
 

“You did.”
 
An enticing blush crept across her cheeks.
 
“And I don’t plan on answering the phone again.”

“Then it’s a promise I intend to keep.”
 
Hours wouldn’t be enough.
 
He had zero desire to untangle himself from her sheets, let alone from her, for days, weeks, months.
 
He shifted so she could feel his cock against her thigh, watching her eyes as he did so, then raised his head and paused a breath’s distance from her full, luscious lips.
 

“With your kind permission, of course,” he ground out, eliciting a low moan of anticipation from Megan.
 
Her eyes drifted closed as he completed the journey to meet her mouth with his own.

He took his time, deliberately, passionately, exploring every inch of her lavish body, memorizing each curve as he reveled in the silken texture of her skin.
 
Finally, when he could take no more, he lifted her by the waist and seated her inch by inch, nearly coming undone as he watched the smoky desire filling her eyes transform to an all-out inferno.
 
He made love to her again, guiding her movements as she rode him cautiously at first, as if testing his reaction, then with increasing abandon.
 
The euphoria on her face as she spasmed around him, her head falling back as she cried out his name, brought him to the most explosive release of his life.
 
Her fingers dug into his hypersensitized thighs.
 
He covered her hands with his own to hold her in place, then closed his eyes as shudders wracked his body and his heart pounded in his ears.

This was the sin the biblical scholars wrote about, the tsunami of emotion and physical ecstasy they claimed could down a man.
 
Well, he could be taken down.
 
Blissfully.
 
Everything in his being told him this was his destiny.

He could kick himself for letting Megan go the first time, for allowing himself to believe a life with Ariana was the proper course of action.
 
How stupid he’d been.
 
How
malleable.
 
His parents had known exactly what he’d do when they’d set him up with her.
 

At least the experience taught him to rely on his own gut instinct rather than bow to pressure from others, people who believed there was a right and a wrong choice for a prince in everything, even in the most personal of decisions.

A soft sigh escaped Megan’s lips as she collapsed into him, spent.
 
He savored her pulse pounding against his chest, thick and fast, then gradually slowing as she caught her breath. A few minutes later, he half-lifted, half-rolled her to his side and pulled her to spoon against him, which drew a long, soulful exhalation from her.
 
Nuzzling her shoulder, he said, “That wasn’t the sound of regret, I hope.”

She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed.
 
“No woman in her right mind—or body—would regret that.”
   

“Good.”
 
They lay cocooned in her bed, neither willing to move.
 
He relished the way her body melded to his and the cool glide of the sheets over their heated, intertwined limbs, and daydreamed about staying here forever, listening to her breathe, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.
 
Making love to her over and over, as long as his body could hold out.
 

 
It was vastly different than the last time he’d made love to her, yet in many ways their connection was the same.
 
Improved, perhaps.
 
They’d seen more of life’s ups and downs and become stronger individuals as a result.
 
From what he’d witnessed this weekend, she had more grit than any ten people.
 
Just as adversity taught him to become his own man, it had taught her to become her own woman.
 
What was it he’d thought when he’d first spoken to her in the bar?

Iron core.
 
That was it.
 
Megan possessed an iron core.
 
But it existed in conjunction with a loving heart, the same one he’d seen when she worked with destitute families in Venezuela.
 
It was evident in the way she looked at Anna or talked about the people with whom she lived and worked at the hotel, and even in the personal touches she’d added to her suite.
 
The smart businesswoman who helped transform an outdated Barcelona hotel into a robust, thriving destination for social and business events was no different than the woman he’d seen joking with children as she’d taught them the basics of food and water safety.

A man would be lucky to have a woman like Megan in his life.
 

“I hope you didn’t regret our time in Venezuela,” he whispered, thinking back to their last night together.
 
There’d been no soft sheets, no pillows, no time to luxuriate in their encounter afterward.
 

“No.
 
Not for a second.”

“Even when you learned you were pregnant?”
 
It was a difficult question, but one he needed to ask.
 

He died a thousand small deaths as she contemplated her answer.

“I won’t lie.”
 
She traced a line along his arm with one finger.
 
“I worried about how I’d handle raising a child, especially since I knew she’d be born during my final semester.
 
I wasn’t about to drop out of school and risk both our futures.
 
But I never once regretted being with you.
 
Never.
 
It was a wonderful, romantic memory to call upon whenever I faced a tough day.”

His chest ached at her words, both with relief that their time together affected her the same way it had him and with the agony of knowing what it must’ve cost her on a day-to-day basis.

“I won’t regret this today,” she added, though her voice was thick with concern.
 
“Not unless it somehow harms Anna.
 
If that happens, I’m…well, I don’t know what I’d do.
 
I can’t—I won’t—do anything that hurts her.
 
Do you understand?”

He buried a kiss in her hair.
 
“I’d be an ass not to.
 
Prioritizing Anna is what makes you such a good mother.”
 
If only his parents had done the same.
 
They’d been overwhelmed with the needs of a country on the cusp of modernization, and in a sense had been parents to the entire population.
 
Their own children had come second.
 
Perhaps because in a way, the Barrali children needed their parents less than the country did.
 

It didn’t make it easier for him.

He swept a stray curl behind Megan’s ear.
 
“I give you my word, here and now, that I will never hurt her.
 
I’ll protect her as if I’d raised her from birth, as if I’d known her name before she was born.
 
No matter the price.”

 
She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed the back of his knuckles.
 
“Thank you for saying I’m a good mother.
 
And thank you for your promise.
 
It means more than you know.”

He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to stay steady in light of what he’d pledged.
 
The price of failure might mean losing Megan—and Anna—forever.
 

A moment later, he said, “You must promise me something in return.”
 

“Oh no.
 
Now I’m in trouble.
 
What promise
must
I make?”
 
He could feel her light laughter as she shifted in the bed.

“If Anna ever decides to pursue culinary school, I’m paying for it.”

She thwapped his leg.
 
“Very funny.”

“I’m serious.”
 
He caught her hand and held it against him while he took a quick nibble at the spot on her neck he knew made her crazy.
 
“Speaking of which, I’m starving.”

“It hasn’t been that long since lunch.”

“Check your bedside clock.
 
Time flies when you’re having fun.
 
And somehow, I’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Somehow.”
 
Amusement filled her voice as she wriggled to face him.
 
Instantly, he missed the sensation of having his chest to her back and his cock nestled against the tight, smooth roundness of her backside.
 
“Want me to order dinner for two?”

He raised an eyebrow.
 
“Won’t that raise questions?
 
Given that you live here, I assume the entire staff knows your habits.”

“As Anna so aptly noted, I have a drawer full of menus from the downstairs restaurants.
 
We order dinner for two more often than I’d like to admit.”

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.
 
“In that case, you likely know what tastes good.
 
Order whatever you think I’d enjoy.”

“Only if you select the wine.”
 

That he could do.
 
“There’s a zinfandel on the first page of the room service menu that happens to be one of my favorites.”
 
When she referred to the wine by vintage, he nodded, then eased from the bed and strolled to the bathroom.
 
He paused in the doorway, taking a moment to drink in the sight of her lying naked amongst the crumpled sheets.
 
“Tell them to deliver in an hour.”
 

At her confused frown, he flashed a smile designed to entice.
 
“Join me in the shower in the meantime.”

Chapter Twelve

Precisely sixty minutes later, as Megan wrapped a towel around Stefano’s waist and pressed a kiss to his torso to capture a particularly delectable-looking rivulet of water, a knock came at the door.
 

“This hotel has fantastic service,” she commented, letting her fingers fall from the fold she’d created near his hipbone.
 
She loved the slight curve of abdominal muscle right above that spot, having made her appreciation clear while they stood under the shower spray.
 
“That’s five-star timing.”

“Want me to get it?”
 
Stefano teased, grabbing at the ties to her robe as if to yank it from her body.

She rolled her eyes, then left him in the master bathroom as she strolled through her suite, fluffing her damp hair as she went.
 
She hummed to herself.
 
For the first time in weeks, she felt completely, totally relaxed.
 

Multiple orgasms did that to a girl.
 
Especially when followed by a long, sultry massage in a steamy shower.
 
The man certainly knew how to make good use of a retractable showerhead.

She sighed, then leaned against the door to ask the server to leave the food cart in the hallway.
 
As she opened her mouth to speak, the knock came again.
 

“Room service,” a familiar, thickly-accented male voice announced.

She backed away in surprise.
 
“Santi?”

“
Si
.”

She crinkled her brow.
 
Why would Santi himself deliver?
 
Was there a staffing issue?
 
A large conference was scheduled to begin in the hotel’s new facilities tomorrow afternoon, with many of the participants arriving tonight; someone should have notified her if they were short waitstaff for room service deliveries.