Becoming the Prince's Wife (Princes of Europe) Read online

  She gripped the phone tighter. “I have an idea that won’t waste Valentino’s time. Would it be possible if you three came to the office this afternoon?” Neutral ground rather than the palace was the only way for her to stay out of temptation’s way.

  “I’m afraid not. It would require too much security for the two of them to meet anywhere else. The security risk is higher than usual with Valentino’s coronation coming up soon. How would it be if you cleared your slate for this afternoon and came to the palace? Say two o’clock?”

  By now Carolena was trembling.

  “We’ll talk and eat out by the pool. If you leave the palace by six-thirty, you’ll be in time for your date.”

  Carolena panicked. “I’d have to juggle some appointments.” That was another lie. “I don’t know if Signor Faustino will let me. I’m working on a big case.”

  “Bigger than the one for the princes of two countries?” Abby teased.

  Her friend had put her on the royal spot. The writing was on the wall. “I—I’ll arrange it.” Her voice faltered.

  “Perfect. The limo will pick you up at the office at one forty-five. Come right out to the terrace by the pool after you arrive.”

  “All right,” she whispered before hanging up.

  In an hour and a half Carolena would be seeing Valentino again. Already she had this suffocating feeling in her chest. It was a good thing she had another client to take up her time before the limo came for her. When she left the office she’d tell Tomaso she was going out for a business lunch with a client, which was only the truth.

  Luckily she’d worn her sleeveless black designer shift dress with the crew neck and black belt to work. She’d matched the outfit with black heels. There was no need to do anything about her hair. All she had to do was touch up her makeup. When she showed up at the palace, it would carry out the lie that she’d be going to the symphony later.

  * * *

  Valentino had just finished some laps in the pool when he saw Carolena walk past the garden toward them in a stunning, formfitting black dress. Only a woman with her figure could wear it. Abby had told him she was going to the symphony later with a man.

  She’d parted her hair in the middle above her forehead and had swept a small braid from each side around to the back, leaving her dark hair long. Two-tiered silvery earrings dangled between the strands. He did a somersault off the wall of the pool to smother his gasp.

  If he’d hoped that she wouldn’t look as good to him after four days, he could forget that! The trick would be to keep his eyes off her while they tried to do business. While Abby laid out their lunch beneath the overhang, Vincenzo sat at one of the tables working on his laptop. Both of them wore beach robes over their swimsuits. Max was down for a nap in the nursery.

  She headed for Abby. A low whistle came out of Vincenzo and he got up to greet her. “I’ve never seen you looking lovelier, Carolena.”

  “Thank you,” she said as the two women hugged.

  Valentino climbed out of the shallow end of the pool and threw on a beach cover-up. “We’re grateful you could come this afternoon.”

  Carolena shot him a brief glance. “It’s very nice to see you again, Val. Signor Faustino was thrilled when he found out where I was going. Needless to say, he considers it the coup of the century that I’ve been summoned to help the princes of Gemelli and Arancia with a legal problem.”

  Abby was all smiles. “Knowing him, he’ll probably make you senior partner at their next meeting.”

  “Don’t wish that on me!” That sounded final.

  Valentino moved closer. “You mean, it isn’t your dream?”

  “Definitely not.” She seemed so composed, but it was deceiving, because he saw a nerve throbbing frantically at the base of her throat where he longed to kiss her.

  He smiled. “Our conversation on the deck of the yacht was cut short and didn’t give us time to cover your dreams before I had to leave.”

  Being out of the sun, she couldn’t blame it for the rose blush that crept into her face. “As I recall, we were discussing your dreams for Gemelli, Val.”

  Touché. But his unrealized personal dream that had lain dormant deep in his soul since his cognizance of life was another matter altogether.

  “In truth, I hope to make enough money from the law practice that one day in the future I can buy back my grandparents’ small farm and work it.” Her green eyes clouded for a moment. “I’m a farmer’s daughter at heart.”

  “I understand your parents are not alive.”

  “No, nor are my grandparents. Their farm was sold. There have been Barettis in Arancia for almost a hundred years. I’m the only Baretti left and want to keep up the tradition by buying the place back.”

  Had her fiancé been a farmer, too? Valentino knew a moment of jealousy that she’d loved someone else enough to create such a powerful emotion in her.

  “I had no idea,” he murmured, “but since it’s in your blood, that makes you doubly valuable for the task at hand.” His mind was teeming with new ideas to keep her close to him.

  “Abby said you and Vincenzo were planning something monumental for both your countries. I confess I’m intrigued.”

  “Hey, you two,” Abby called to them. “Come and help yourselves to lunch first, then we’ll get down to business.”

  He followed Carolena to the serving table. After they’d filled their plates, they sat down at one of the round tables where the maid poured them iced tea. Once they’d started eating, he said, “Vincenzo? Why don’t you lay the groundwork for the women and we’ll go from there.”

  “Our two countries have a growing problem because of the way they are situated on coastal waters. We all know the land around the Mediterranean is one of the most coveted terrains on earth. Over the years, our prime properties of orange and lemon groves that have sustained our economies for centuries have been shrinking due to man’s progress. Our farmers are being inundated with huge sums of money to sell their land so it can be developed for commercial tourism.”

  “I know that’s true,” Carolena commented. “My grandfather was approached many times to sell, but he wouldn’t do it.”

  Vincenzo nodded. “He’s the type of traditional farmer fighting a battle to hold on to his heritage. Farmers are losing their workers, who want to go to the city. In the process, we’re losing a vital and precious resource that has caused Valentino and me to lose sleep. Something has to be done to stop the trend and rebuild the greatness of what we’ve always stood for. We’ve come up with an idea to help our farmers by giving them a new incentive. You tell them, Valentino.”

  Carolena’s gaze swerved to him. He could tell Vincenzo had grabbed the women’s attention.

  “We need to compete with other countries to increase our exports to fill the needs of a growing world market and build our economies here at home. The lemons of Arancia are highly valued because of their low acidity and delicate flavor.

  “Likewise the blood oranges of Gemelli are sought after for their red flesh and deep red juice. The juice is exceptionally healthy, being rich in antioxidants. What we’re proposing is to patent our fruit in a joint venture so we can grow an enviable exporting business.

  “With a unique logo and marketing strategy, we can put our citrus fruits front and center in the world market. When the buyer sees it, they’ll know they’re getting authentic fruit from our regions alone and clamor for it.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Carolena exclaimed. “You would need to be filed as a Consortium for the Promotion of the Arancian Lemon and the Gemellian Blood Orange. The IGP logo will be the official acknowledgment that the lemons and oranges were grown in your territories according to the traditional rules.”

  Vincenzo leaned forward. “That’s exactly what we’re striving for. With the right marketing techniques, the citr
us business should start to flourish again. We’ll come up with a name for the logo.”

  “That’s easy,” Abby volunteered. “AG. Two tiny letters stamped on each fruit. You’ll have to make a video that could be distributed to every country where you want to introduce your brand.”

  Bless you, Abby. She was reading Valentino’s mind. He needed more time alone with Carolena to talk about their lives. Abby had just given him the perfect excuse. He exchanged glances with Vincenzo before he looked at Carolena.

  “The right video would sell the idea quickly, but we need a spokesperson doing the video to put it across. You’d be the perfect person for several reasons, Carolena.”

  “Oh, no.” He saw the fear in her eyes and knew exactly what put it there, but he couldn’t help himself. What he felt for Carolena was stronger than anything he’d ever known.

  “You have the looks and education to sell our idea,” Valentino persisted. “We’ll start in Gemelli with you traveling around to some of the orange groves. With a farming background that dates back close to a century, you’ll be the perfect person to talk to the owners.”

  Valentino could tell by the way Vincenzo smiled at Carolena that he loved the idea. His friend said, “After you’ve finished there, we’ll have you do the same thing here in Arancia with our lemon farmers. We’ll put the video on television in both countries. People will say, ‘That’s the beautiful Signorina Baretti advertising the AG logo.’ You’ll be famous.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to be famous.”

  “You get used to it,” Valentino quipped. “While you’re in Gemelli, you’ll stay at the palace and have full security when you travel around with the film crew. I’ll clear my calendar while you’re there so I can be on hand. The sooner we get started, the better. How long will it take you to put your affairs in order and fly down?”

  “But—”

  “It’ll be fun,” Abby spoke up with enthusiasm. “I can’t think of another person who could do this.”

  “Naturally you’ll be compensated, Carolena,” Vincenzo added. “After coming to the aid of our two countries, you’ll make enough money to buy back your grandparents’ farm, if that’s what you want.”

  She got up from the chair on the pretense of getting herself another helping of food. “You’re all very flattering and generous, but I need time to think about it.”

  Valentino stared up at her. “Do that while you’re at the symphony tonight with your date, and we’ll contact you in the morning for your answer.” He could swear she didn’t really have plans. She proved it when she looked away from him.

  Forcing himself to calm down, he checked his watch. “Since we have several hours before you have to leave in the limo, I suggest we get to work on a script. Perhaps the video could start with you showing us your old farm. It will capture everyone’s interest immediately. We’ll shoot that segment later.”

  “It’s a beautiful place!” Abby cried. “You’ll do it, right?” she pleaded with her friend. “You’ve worked nonstop since law school. It’s time you had some fun along with your work. Your boss, Signor Faustino, will get down on his knees to you.”

  Vincenzo joined in. “I’ll have you flown down on the jet.”

  Valentino found himself holding his breath.

  * * *

  You go where angels fear to tread, Carolena.

  The words pummeled her as the royal jet started its descent to Gemelli’s airport. As she saw the smoke of Etna out of the window, memories of that glorious day and evening with Valentino clutched at her heart.

  She’d be seeing him in a few minutes. If this offer to do the video had been Valentino’s wish alone, she would have turned him down. But the excitement and pleading coming from both Abby and Vincenzo two days ago had caused her to cave. Deep down she knew a great deal was riding on this project for their two countries.

  After another sleepless night because of Valentino, she’d phoned Abby the next morning to tell her she’d do it. But her friend had no idea of her fatal attraction to him.

  It was fatal and Valentino knew it. But he was bound by a code of honor and so was she. If she worked hard, the taping could be done in a couple of days and she could go back to Arancia for good.

  One of Valentino’s staff greeted the plane and walked her to her old room, where she was once again installed. He lowered her suitcase to the parquet floor. “In forty-five minutes His Highness will be outside in the limo waiting to take you for a tour of some orange groves. In the meantime, a lunch tray has been provided for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  After quickly getting settled, she ate and changed into jeans and a blouson, the kind of outfit she used to wear on her grandparents’ farm. Earlier that morning she’d put her hair in a braid to keep it out of her way. On her feet she wore sensible walking boots. Inside her tote bag she carried a copy of the script, which she’d read over many times.

  Before walking out the door, she reached for it and for her grandmother’s broad-brimmed straw hat she’d always worn to keep out the sun. Armed with what she’d need, she left the room for the limo waiting out at the side entrance of the palace.

  When she walked through the doors, Valentino broke away from the driver he’d been talking to and helped her into the limo. The sun shone from a blue sky. It was an incredible summer day. Once inside, he shut the door and sat across from her wearing a navy polo shirt and jeans. He looked and smelled too marvelous for words.

  Within a minute they left the palace grounds and headed for the outskirts of the city. “I’ve been living for you to arrive,” he confessed in his deep voice. “How was the symphony?”

  His unexpected question threw her. “Wonderful.”

  “That’s interesting. I found out it wasn’t playing that night, nor did you go to dinner with your boyfriend. In case you were wondering, the limo driver informed Vincenzo you told him to take you back to your apartment. Why manufacture an excuse?”

  Heat rushed to her face. “I’m sure you know the reason.”

  “You mean that you were afraid you might end up alone with me that evening?”

  “I thought it could be a possibility and decided to err on the side of caution.”

  “Once I overheard Vincenzo tell Abby about your fictional evening out, you don’t know how close I came to showing up at your apartment that night.”

  This wasn’t going to work. The longing for him made her physically weak. “Does your mother know you flew me up on Etna?” she blurted.

  “She has her spies. It’s part of the game. That’s why I didn’t attack you on the deck of the yacht.”

  “But we danced for a long time.”

  He leaned forward. “Dancing is one thing, but the steward would have told her I didn’t spend the night with you. In fact, I wasn’t in your room more than a few minutes.”

  “She’s no one’s fool, Val.”

  “What can I say?” He flashed her a brief smile. “She’s my mother. When she thought you’d gone out of my life by flying back to Arancia with Abby and Vincenzo, no doubt she was relieved. But now that you’re here again so soon, she knows my interest in you goes deeper than mere physical attraction.”

  “With your marriage looming on the horizon, she has every right to be upset.”

  “That’s a mother’s prerogative. For that, I apologize.”

  Valentino’s life truly wasn’t his own. Every move he made was monitored. Only now was she beginning to appreciate how difficult it must have been for him growing up, but she couldn’t worry about that right now. She had a job to do. The sooner she got to it, the sooner she could fly back to Arancia. Away from him.

  The surrounding countryside basked under a heavenly sun. They came to the first grove where the trees were planted in rows, making up football-pitch-length orchards. She watched me
n and women in blue overalls go from tree to tree, quickly working their way up and down ladders to fill plastic crates with the brightly colored produce. It brought back memories from her past.

  The limo pulled to a stop. “We’ll get out and walk from here.”

  He opened the door to help her. With a shaky hand she reached for her hat. The moment she climbed out, the citrus smell from the many hectares of orange groves filled her senses.

  Valentino’s dark blue eyes played over her face and figure with a hunger that brought the blood to her cheeks. When she put the hat on her head, he felt the rim of it. “I like that touch of authenticity.”

  “It was my grandmother’s. I thought I’d wear it to bring me luck.” Maybe it would help her to keep her wits. But already she was suffering from euphoria she shouldn’t be feeling. It was because they were together again. For a while, happiness drove away her fears as they began walking toward the masseria, the typical farmhouse in the area.

  “As you can see, the groves here have a unique microclimate provided by the brooding volcano of Etna. Warm days and cool nights allow us to produce what we feel are the best blood oranges in the world.”

  “You ought to be the one on the video, Val. I can hear your love of this island in your voice.”

  “Yet anyone will tell you a beautiful woman is much more exciting to look at.”

  Not from her vantage point. Valentino was drop-dead gorgeous. Abby had said as much about Michelina’s older brother before Carolena had ever even seen a picture of him.

  Several of the security men went on ahead to bring the grove owner to her and Valentino. The man and his son were delighted to be interviewed and would have talked for hours. No problem for them to be part of the video.

  After saying goodbye, they drove on to the next orange grove, then the next, stopping for a midafternoon lunch brought from the palace kitchen. Six stops later they’d reached the eastern end of the island. Already it was evening. They’d been so busy, she hadn’t realized how much time had passed.