Slow Tango With a Prince (Royal Scandals) (37 page)

“I’m taking you to the real view,” he said with a smile, accurately reading her hesitation. “How often do you get to see Central Park from the twenty-first floor of The Plaza?”

She followed him upstairs, through a spacious bedroom boasting every amenity, right down to a fancy upholstered headboard, a sparkling crystal chandelier, fresh flowers, and fluffy pillows topped with mints. Vittorio opened the doors at the far side of the room to reveal a long, narrow terrace. Though it was the middle of the night, the air was light and warm and the city pulsed with life, beckoning her outside.

“Oh wow,” she couldn’t help but exclaim. The breeze carried the smell of the trees from Central Park. Far above them, stars littered the night sky.

“It’s as clear as I’ve ever seen the stars here,” he said, following her gaze.
 

“It’s like a scene from a movie.” She moved to the wrought iron railing and took in the view. The contrast between the ribbon of streetlights surrounding the park and the darkness of the treetops filled her with awe. “Thank you. I can’t imagine anything more heavenly.”

For several minutes, they stood side-by-side, alternately watching the activity below and the show of stars overhead, until the wind kicked up and sent an involuntary shiver through her.

“Cold?”

She shook her head, but his arms came around her anyway. It was all she could do not to lean back into him, to allow his warmth and the magic of the location to envelop her. Softly, he said, “There’s a road that runs north from Cateri along the Saraccian coastline. My sister once showed me a hidden beach below the roadway that offers views across the Mediterranean. I suspect the stars are even brighter there. I know it’s warmer. I’d love to take you there.”

“For the show?” She knew it wasn’t what he meant, but needed to hear him state his intentions aloud.

“No. It’s not a place I’d ever reveal to the public.” With one hand, he smoothed the hair back from her neck and dropped a gentle, lingering kiss there before turning her to face him. The breeze caught a chunk of her hair and blew it across her face, but he captured it and smoothed it back again, then spread his fingers into her hair. “I want you in Sarcaccia. Show or no show. I missed you.”

She closed her eyes, needing to think. His mouth was on hers before she could utter a syllable, warm and daring and oh-so-knowing. There was a familiarity to the way he kissed her, but his need seemed to run even deeper than when they’d been in Argentina, as if he’d been holding his breath underwater and finally came up for air. Much as she wanted to resist, she felt the same. A moan surfaced from deep inside her as she opened to him and wound her arms around his lean waist to the tight muscles of his back. He tasted of whiskey and mint, and she found herself craving more, ever more of him, as if she’d never have her fill.
 

With a rough groan, he deepened the kiss. A wash of heat settled low in her belly at the same time he pressed his body against hers, allowing her to feel his arousal. She knew she should stop, for both their sakes, but he felt too perfect. As he shifted to kiss the delicate spot in front of her ear, she hissed out a satisfied breath at the feel of his smooth cheek brushing hers, so different than when he’d sported the beard in Argentina.
 

“Admit it. You missed me.”

“I missed you.” The words were out before she could consider them.

His smiling mouth danced over her jawline, then moved to her throat. She let her head fall back and he took advantage of the access, dragging one hand from her hair to trace the hollow in her neck, then to cup her breast through the fabric of her dress. The sensation made her wobble on her heels, drawing a low laugh from him as he stepped backward, pulling her along with him. “This is not for the outdoors.”

The lack of a breeze and the click of the terrace doors snapped her to reality. “This would be a mistake,” she managed, even as his mouth found hers again.
 

He eased back enough to look her in the eyes, but didn’t loosen his hold. “Emily, I want to be with you. Not just for a second one-night stand. For the long haul. I know your job requires travel, but you’ll be in Sarcaccia for several months. After that, we can work out any obstacles with distance and your shooting schedule. Just be with me.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. He was such a good man, everything she could ever want. If only she had the ability to give him what he needed. But she didn’t, and she never would. “Vittorio, I’m not the—”

“Shh.” His finger came over her lips. His gaze followed, and she ached at the desire she saw there. “I know you’re used to being in control and that I make that difficult. It’s the nature of being in a relationship with a royal. But I know it can work. Even my parents have made it work. They’re opinionated individuals with their own interests. Despite being in the public eye every day, they have a strong marriage.”

Marriage
. Her heart swelled even as she was certain it would break.

She drew a deep breath, dreading what she had to say. Reluctantly, she reached for his hand and eased it away from where he was tracing her mouth. “Vittorio, that means more to me than you can ever know.”
 

“So be with me.”

“I can’t. Even if we could make the day to day work between us, I can never give you what you need.” Her gut twisted as she finished, “Vittorio, I can’t have children.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The statement couldn’t have stunned him any more than if she’d given him a sucker punch to the kidneys. Vittorio stepped back. “You don’t want children, or you can’t have them?”

“Can’t.” A wan smile etched her face as she pulled away from him and dropped into the Victorian-style chair in the corner of his master bedroom. “When I told you I wouldn’t get pregnant back in Buenos Aires, it wasn’t because I was using birth control. I had cancer when I was twenty-three. Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

The shock of her pronouncement must’ve shown on his face because she held up a hand and said, “Cancer’s gone,” then knocked on the wooden arm of the chair. “I’m healthy as the proverbial horse. But when I was diagnosed, I had a choice to make. The most successful chemotherapy regimen at the time for my particular type and stage of cancer can cause ovarian failure. There were others I could try, but I worried that if I pursued those avenues first, the cancer might advance to the point that it’d be tough to treat. I decided to go with what was most likely to work and risk it.”

“That must have been traumatic for you and your family. I’m sorry you had to endure it.”
 

“It worked.” She waved a hand. “I’m here. I have nothing to complain about.”

He took a seat on the ottoman that footed her chair and wrapped one of her small hands in his. She’d been so young, starting her career, with her whole life ahead of her. To be faced with such a diagnosis and decision must have been life-altering. “You look at the world with such optimism.”

Her shoulders lifted for a moment, then she grinned and said, “I’m fortunate. I really am. In the long run, it made me appreciate my health and my friends. Rita was there when I was diagnosed and offered her support without being smothering or patronizing. She hosted my parents when they came from Oregon to see me and kept them updated when they were home. I’ll love her forever for it.”

So much made sense, as if he finally saw the pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Emily’s relationship fears. Her deep friendship with Rita. Her drive to build
At Home Abroad
. The way she nurtured the staff and considered them family. Once again, he was in awe of her inner strength. He ran his thumb over hers. Would he ever learn all there was to know about her?
 

Her voice turning serious again, she continued, “Even so, the odds of me having a natural pregnancy are zero. I went through menopause at the ripe old age of twenty-four. I did have eggs harvested first, but it’s much tougher to have a successful pregnancy from a frozen egg than an embryo. It’s not likely to happen.”
 

She squeezed his hand briefly and then stood, as if needing to put distance between them. “I know that’s a terrible information dump, but it needed to be said. I found peace with it long ago, but I’d never expect any man I date to settle for that, let alone a man whose position requires an heir. The minute you mentioned the long haul….” She shrugged. “I’m not right for you. No matter what we might feel for each other, a relationship would end in heartbreak for one or both of us. I can’t go down that road.”

“And here I was worried that the biggest barrier to a relationship would be public opinion, that I’d moved on too quickly after Carmella. That it might hurt your career to be seen dating a prince who’d appeared on your show…though you took care of that issue.” Taking a risk, he asked her what he most needed to know. “So tell me…what is it you feel for me?”
 

“That’s not a fair question.” Her voice was steady, but her jaw trembled as she said it.

“It’s entirely fair.” It was all he could do not to launch from the chair and take her in his arms. “Because I know what I feel. I’m in love with you, Emily. Crazy in love.”

“You can’t be,” she protested, an ache in her tone. “Not when I’m—”

“When you’re what?” He couldn’t resist. He was beside her in two steps, framing her shoulders with his hands. “Intelligent? Beautiful? Creative? Resilient? I could go on forever. I
want
to go on forever. Unless you were planning to end that statement by saying, ‘Not when I’m not in love with you,’ but I don’t think that’s true.”

The pain in her gaze reminded him of something she’d told him when they were on the sofa in his Buenos Aires hotel room, and she’d been wearing his shirt while he kneaded the arch of her foot. “Emily, I’m not your ex-boyfriend. That’s why he ended your relationship, isn’t it? Why you said it was complicated, but that you couldn’t give him what he needed and you understood?”

“He wanted a family. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, there’s not. But I want you more.”
 

“For now.” She exhaled and said, “Look, when I was with Paul, I put a lot of pressure on myself. I felt like I had to be everything to him—I had to make up for the family he’d probably never have if he stayed with me—and I couldn’t do it. I can’t do that for anyone.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face and smiled. “Do you know that when I went back to Sarcaccia, I watched every single episode of
At Home Abroad
? Not just this season. All of them. You were all I could think about. I’ve never felt this way about a woman. In fact” —he angled his head so he could search her eyes— “I’ve never told a woman I love her, because I never have. But I love you. You see me for who I am and encourage me to be the best version of myself. You make me laugh. You make me happy whenever you enter a room. And you don’t have to do anything or make up for anything in order for that to happen. You only need to be who you are for me to love you.”

Emotion flickered in her eyes at his words. He knew then that she loved him, too, and it gave him hope.

“Emily, I know in my heart that this is a love that can overcome anything.”

“You can’t overcome the law. One thing I learned at
Today’s Royals
is that your country signed a very specific treaty with Italy to obtain its independence. When the Barrali line ends, the island returns to Italian control. You’re responsible for those people. You can’t risk their futures for me.”

“You risked the futures of the people who work for you when you edited me out of the episode.”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” she huffed. “Besides, how do you know you won’t change your mind? A month or a year from now, you might see things differently.”

“I won’t. Besides, I have an heir.”

She leaned back from his grasp, confusion clouding her face. “You…wait, you do?”

“Not a direct heir, but there
is
another heir to the throne. Several. My time in Argentina proved that Alessandro has what it takes to rule. I’d never admit it to him, but if you and I were to marry and not have children, I’m confident Sarcaccia would survive as an independent nation long after I’m gone. And if not Alessandro, there’s Stefano. Then Massimo and Bruno and Sophia, though God knows what Sophia would do to the country.”
 

His heart threatened to explode from his chest as he memorized the shape of Emily’s eyes, the flush of her cheeks, the plush contours of her mouth. “All I need to know is whether you could love me. If you feel even half of what I feel for you, I’d be happy for the rest of my life.”

“You can’t possibly know that. The rest of your life is a long time.”

His thumbs skimmed her face. “The world thinks I’ve come clean about a huge scandal, but you and I both know that what aired tonight isn’t the whole story. No one aside from the two of us—and Alessandro—knows Carmella sent me a suicide note or what was in it. If I can trust you with that, perhaps you can trust me to know my own heart.”
 

He couldn’t mistake the fear in her expression, but there was desire, too.
 

“I’m not your ex, Emily. I can’t promise never to hurt you, but I will never change my mind about how much I want you, and that takes priority over having children.”

Her voice was near a whisper as she asked, “Do you not want children?”