The Playboy Prince (Piacere Princes, Book One) (26 page)

The last of the sandwich turned to dust in her mouth. Maggie forced herself to swallow instead of spit it out, then turned accusing eyes on Salvadore.
 

“What?” he asked, pulling his focus from the last two loops he was trying to force onto his spoon.

“That!” She pointed, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Oh, that. Calm down, it was nothing. I handled it.”

“What do they know? That’s not a random question, Salvadore!”

“It
was
a random question.” He reached over and took her hands in his, applying pressure until she met his gaze. His blue eyes were calm, and honest. “They’re fishing. Calling Cielo is always making up one story or another to try to trick us into saying something we didn’t mean to. It’s what Julia calls journalism.”

Her heart slowed down, but she still worried. “How can you be sure?”

“There have been rumors for years that I must have a woman or two to keep company with when I’m home in Arcobaleno. She’s insinuating that I’ve already decided who I’ll choose at the ball.”

“Is it true?” she asked, hating that she sounded like a jealous girlfriend.
 

“Do you really want to know, my sweet?” His eyes softened, and so did the way he touched her hands. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles over her knuckles. “I know you have not been alone all of these years, and I would not have wanted to imagine you that way. I do not, however, wish to know details about these other men who have been in your life. Have possessed you.”

“That’s an odd way of putting it.”

He gave her a smile, his eyes a mixture of regret and affection. “It is the way of the world, is it not? For the past week, you have possessed me, Magdalena. You possess me now, and you have given yourself to me in return. The question is, what shall we do with each other in the time we have left?”

Maggie managed to shake off her anxiety over Salvadore’s past, and over whether they would both survive this poor decision unscathed. She smiled at him, letting his beautiful eyes and the soft movements of his fingers thread a sizzling desire through her, instead.
 

“I suppose you have a few ideas,” she teased, leaning in to kiss his neck.

“Mmmm. Yes, but we’ll need to get to my place. Anna is a clean freak. She’d kill us both and happily pay the price if she found out we soiled her pristine workspace.”

Maggie laughed, and swiped the last strawberry off her plate. “Truth. Well, lead the way.”

“You just want to stare at my ass while I walk.”

She shrugged, meeting his gaze with a playful one of her own. “Gotta cash in my perks while I can.”

“Far be it from me to deprive you.”

Salvy put their plates in the sink and then grabbed her hand, leading her out of the kitchen and through the dark, empty hallways that led from the servants’ areas to the door closest to his house.
 

Once on the porch, he stopped. “The grass is pretty wet. Hop on.”

“I thought we decided to wait until we got to your place.”

“On my back, dirty girl. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Maggie hesitated, but then hopped into his waiting hands, slinging her arms around his neck. He used to give her piggyback rides all the time, but obviously, not lately. He felt delicious between her thighs, his strong hands beneath her legs and the sweet smell of him near her nose as she buried it in wisps of his hair.

“I can’t believe Salvadore Piacere just told me to get my mind out of the gutter. Have you been body snatched? Are you an alien?”

“I am able to think of things other than sex,” he complained. “I just choose not to.”

That made her laugh, and he answered with a deep baritone of his own. They giggled together as he bounced her over the wet, cold grass to the house he used when in country—the house that could fit five of her father’s and still have room to spare.

“Good evening, James,” Salvadore greeted his man outside the door, still chuckling.
 

“Sire,” came the reply from the darkness. “Miss.”

They tumbled through the front door and straight to the bedroom, where Salvy turned around and dropped her on the king-sized bed. She bounced once before he landed on top of her, the weight of him delicious as it pushed her into the fluffy blankets.
 

Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue brushing her with unspoken demands. Maggie responded, her hands roaming his hard abs under his sweater. He kissed her as he worked her pants button loose and then tugged them off in one smooth movement, yanking her legs until her ass was on the edge of the bed.
 

When he got on his knees and kissed the inside of her thighs, working inward, the blood rushed from her head. Desire swamped her, and she reached down and curled her fingers in his dark hair as he licked and sucked her into oblivion.
 

“Oh my god. Holy shit,” she moaned, leaning back and letting herself fall open for him. He slipped a finger, then another, inside her. It only made her hungry for the long thickness of his dick and she ground against him, shaking as he nudged her closer and closer to the edge of a cliff.

Maggie shrieked as she tumbled over, clenching around his fingers and rubbing herself against his tongue as the waves of pleasure threatened to drown her. The world was gone for so long she thought she might have passed out.

When she came back to her senses he was hovering over her, a condom already in place and a shit-eating grin on his beautiful face.
 

He was beautiful, too. Not only sexy, not only infuriating or careless, though he was those things, too. Beautiful, all the way through, but complicated.

I love you.

No. Don’t say it, you fool. Don’t ruin it.

A strange expression took the place of his smile and he gazed into her eyes as he used a knee to nudge her legs farther apart and slid inside her one inch at a time. She felt as if they were fused together, from their eyes all the way to their middles.
 

The rhythm was slow, almost maddeningly so, as they watched each other. She saw pleasure, and sadness, and then adoration hang in his eyes as he rocked inside her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, lowering his head to brush a fiery line of kisses down her neck.

Maggie tightened her legs around him and lifted her hips off the bed, inviting him deeper. Salvy groaned and moved faster, seeming to lose himself in the moment. She closed her eyes and did the same, trying to memorize the way his hard body felt as it slid against her breasts, the way he felt deep inside her, the smell of aftershave and sweat and sex that swirled around them.

They came together, and her orgasm lasted longer than she’d ever believed possible. After they’d caught their breath, Salvy rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed to take off his condom while she skittered into the bathroom to clean up.
 

“Here.” She tossed him a warm towel when she came back.

“You’re the best,” he told her, though his face held a hesitance that suggested he’d wanted to say something else.
 

“I think you’re up for that title, after that sex. Jesus.”

“We’re pretty good together, Magdalena.”

“That’s true.” She was sated, and loopy enough not to consider every word that came out of her mouth, which made agreeing with him easier.

Salvy lay down on his back, tugging her into his chest, and tangled one hand in her long hair.
 

The silence overwhelmed her. She was too happy, too satisfied. Too unable to remember her troubles, or to see her life when their time together came to the big, looming dead end.
 

Guilt crashed in. She thought of her father, of how she would take care of him when they had no place to go. That he would die unhappy because everything he’d built was stolen in a matter of days.
 

She thought of all of the other people in Arcobaleno, and in Cielo, who were victims of the same asshole. And here she was, naked in bed with a man who had the power to do something about it, and in that moment, she knew that not asking for help would be one of the most selfish things she’d ever done.

But he felt so good. She loved him, for better or worse, and even if it made her a terrible person, she wanted one more night. The real reason she hadn’t asked for his help until now welled up inside her, and she felt the truth of it with every cell in her body.
 

If he refused to help, if he told her that it wasn’t his place or that, like the King, he didn’t feel there was anything he could do to help the common people his family was supposed to protect, Maggie knew she would struggle to see him the way she always had.
 

And that even though it would kill her to walk away from him, it would hurt more to stay and watch him refuse to be the man she knew he could be.
 

Morning came early, as it had every day since she’d come to stay at the palace. It came earlier for her since they woke up hungry for each other two or three times a night, but last night, they had slept pressed against each other for six straight hours.
 

The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when she pulled aside the curtains and peered out into the dawn. Salvy’s bedroom was chilly and she tugged the blanket she’d stolen from the bed tighter around her naked body.
 

He groaned in his sleep and Maggie dropped the curtain, realizing the daylight had streamed across his face. “What time is it?”

“Almost five-thirty,” she told him, feeling guilty. She usually tried to slip out without waking him, but her stomach was tied into knots that wouldn’t be undone until she asked for her favor.
 

The deadline to sign the contract was tomorrow. They were out of time.

“Good Lord. Come here.” He raised a hand to her, raising a brow over a blurry eye when she didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

Her heart ached. “I have to ask you something.”

Salvy sat up and rubbed his eyes, seeming to hear the serious note in her voice. “Should I put pants on for this?”

“You don’t have to get dressed. It’s just something I want you to think about today, that’s all.”

“Out with it, Magdalena. We’ve known each other too long—and lately, too well—to tiptoe around each other, don’t you think?”

It gave her a brief spout of hope to hear him recognize their friendship that way. She straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I want you to take down Matrigna. I can give you names of other people who’ve been blackmailed, but you and I both know you don’t need that. You’re a royal—if you want to shut them down, you can do it without any reason at all. But there are plenty.”

He stared at her, then out the window. The sigh he heaved went straight to her heart, and it sank into her stomach.
 

“I can’t do that, Maggie. My father and brother both say they’re not doing anything illegal, and if I came to them with names now, it would take too long to prove anything. The King has told me, in no uncertain terms.”

Irritation curled her fingers into fists. “And you always do what you’re told?”

When he looked back at her, his frustration was palpable. “No! But my behavior is the whole reason I’m in this mess to begin with—the ball, the marriage—it was all because my father wants me to be more responsible. Do you seriously think going against a family decision is the best way to convince him that I deserve a real place here?”

“People are in trouble. Real trouble. The kind that’s going to leave them homeless, and force them to watch as the things they’ve worked for during their entire lifetimes are stolen by a crook.” She swallowed, willing herself not to cry. “Your place is as their defender, and your father should know that.”

“We’re not despots. We allow people to conduct private business without interference.”

“God, you’re just quoting, like, a Piacere rulebook to me or something. That’s bullshit. You could make a difference. You could show the people that you’re more than a playboy who spends all of your father’s money on drugs and whores, but…what? You’d rather be exactly what you’ve always feared—someone with a crown but no power.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his gorgeous eyes begging her to understand.
 

Magdalena was furious now. The sadness over walking away, over watching him fail to grow into his power again and again, receded in the face of her rage. All she could think about was her father and the others like him, and how no one in the kingdom was going to stand up for them.

She didn’t say another word as she grabbed her clothes off the floor and stalked into the bathroom.

“Maggie. Maggie, wait.” Salvy got out of bed as she slammed the bathroom door, grateful beyond words when she found a lock.
 

She couldn’t face him without clothes on. Couldn’t face him at all.

It took her five minutes to get dressed and run her fingers through her hair. She gripped the edge of the counter, willing herself not to cry as her anger turned to disappointment. A lifetime of caring urged her to feel sorry for Salvadore. He didn’t believe in himself. Thought he could never have a real purpose. That must feel awful, and as long as she’d known him, he’d struggled with the idea of being the worthless prince.