Diamonds are Forever. Кэрол Мортимер

she reached it, she looked over her shoulder at him. “What? Putting makeup on movie stars? No. The job chose me and has kept me alive.”

      He moved closer. Her heart did a funny kick. “What job would you choose if you could?”

      That gave her pause. “You mean, in my wildest dreams?”

      It was his turn to chuckle. “Is it that out of the ordinary?”

      “For me, yes.”

      “You want to be an astronaut?”

      “No.” Her mouth curved upward once more. “This is something very down-to-earth.”

      “What would that be?”

      “It’s as improbable as my meeting a real prince today.”

      “Why?”

      “In the first place, I have to find a job where I can earn a lot of money in order to pay off mother’s debts before I do anything else.”

      “And in the second place?” he queried.

      “I don’t know if I could make the grade.”

      “Doing what? Humor me,” he prodded.

      “Plastic surgery.”

      His intelligent gaze grew thoughtful. “Why that particular profession?”

      “My mother was labeled the most beautiful woman in the world. Her love affair with herself was obscene. There are people out there born with facial problems who’d give everything they possessed to be able to look in the mirror and not cringe or grieve at the sight.

      “If I could change one person’s looks enough to make life more bearable for them, I’d give anything to do it.”

      A marked stillness pervaded the atmosphere before he spread his hands in a typical Italian gesture. “A noble aspiration. If that’s your raison d’être, then make it a reality once we’re married.”

      Maybe she was hallucinating.

      “Why not?” He read her mind. “Castelmare University in Capriccio has a medical school linked with the University of Genoa.”

      The man was starting to get to her and that was frightening.

      “Look—I was talking about my wildest dreams. The point is, not even I would want to be married to me. And lest you forget, one has to speak Italian to go to your university. For your information, I can only say one word in your language. It’s ciao.”

      She opened the door to leave, but it was blocked by the same person as before. Another bodybuilder type was standing behind him. In the next breath she shut it again and turned on the man whose charisma was positively lethal. “Will you please tell Salvatore and his brother out there to let me pass?”

      He let out a hearty laugh at her reference to the famous Italian bodyguard Salvatore Bartolotta, who lost his life trying to protect an antimafia prosecutor during the 1930s. While admiring his quick mind, Alex tried hard not to react to his full-bodied response. It made him appear younger and even more appealing. She hadn’t thought it was possible.

      “Carlo will be flattered when I tell him. You’re obsessed by the mafia. Why is that, Alexandra? More than likely it was the mob that targeted your father because of his title and financial affluence. When he wouldn’t cooperate, they rubbed him out. I believe that’s the American term.”

      The prince knew it was. He was too intelligent by far.

      “Wherever the truth lies, anyone linked to the mafia eventually dies like the father I never knew.” She looked down. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. You’ve picked the wrong woman to help you out of your nightmare. I need to go home and face mine.”

      “I’m not prepared to let you go yet,” he whispered silkily. “A little while ago you accused me of being hard up. That’s putting it mildly. My back’s up against the proverbial wall and my time has run out. I can’t fly home and face my parents without producing the name of my intended bride. As I’ve told you, I’ve been overdue in that department for the past ten years.”

      She couldn’t believe she was still standing here listening to him instead of banging on the door to demand her freedom.

      “And you honestly believe they’ll be overjoyed you’ve chosen the most unsuitable female on the planet to parade before your kingdom? Marriage to Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter will make you the laughingstock of the civilized world.”

      “Let me worry about it.”

      “I’ll do better than that. You won’t have to be concerned about anything because my answer is no! Can you imagine what the media would make of it?

      “In a shocking palace exclusive today, the bachelor crown prince of Castelmare has bypassed many a royal swan to choose the ugly duckling of the deceased, washed-up American film goddess Kathryn Carlisle for his bride.

      “Rumors at court say the prince hasn’t been himself since a golf ball hit him in the temple in Pebble Beach, California, where he was on hand for the U.S. Open with international supermodel Germaine.”

      His grin disarmed her. “You, of all people, should know better than to believe the tabloids. That ball hit one of my bodyguards in the knee. Any photo of a model was superimposed for effect.”

      Her jaw hardened. “Where my mother was concerned, I do believe them. Don’t forget they wrote the truth about her. Marrying you will give them enough fodder to start a whole new feeding frenzy.

      “The headlines will read, ‘With the promise of a twelve-million-dollar wedding present, it appears the daughter is following in the footsteps of the mother. Time will tell if this is the first of her many marriages destined to fail. Bets in the Las Vegas underworld are already running high that the marriage will fall apart within months.’”

      Something flickered in the dark recesses of his eyes. “Then prove them wrong, Alexandra.”

      There he went again saying her name in that unusual way, making her nerve endings tingle. While blood surged into her cheeks, her hands formed fists. “Enough is enough! I could never take your money.”

      Lucca liked tangling with her. He’d finally met a woman who set off exhilarating sparks when they were together. He couldn’t remember the last time this had happened.

      “Fine. Then become a surgeon and pay back the debt with your hard-earned money. A few operations for those who can afford it and you’ll have wiped your mother’s slate clean as you indicated earlier.”

      Her chin lifted. “Even if by some miracle I did get in medical school, I wouldn’t be able to start practicing for another eight years!”

      “I’ll pay for your medical school for as long as it takes. Once you do your residency, you’ll receive a salary and can start paying me back like you would a school loan. It’s a good bargain. I guarantee you couldn’t do better with anyone else.”

      She stared at him through glazed eyes. “Attending medical school isn’t one of the duties of a king’s consort.”

      “My consort will do what she wants because I won’t be a normal sort of king.” He flashed her a self-satisfied smile. “Your only royal duties will be to accompany me on certain occasions that will come up from time to time.”

      “I see.”

      “I’ll arrange for you to start Italian lessons tomorrow after we arrive at the palace. By the time we’ve returned from our honeymoon six weeks from now, the fall semester will be starting. With the help of a tutor, you’ll be able to keep up with your fellow medical students.”

      “Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I’m terrible at languages and I’m not going anywhere with you.” Least of all on a honeymoon.

      “When I explain your predicament with the