Secret Heirs: Royal Appointment. Carol Marinelli

She ripped it open and started reading. There was some confusion about her room at the bed and breakfast. She had intended to move hotels tomorrow, but now it seemed her room at the B & B was no longer available. Crumpling the note in her hand, she frowned as she wondered what to do next. She couldn’t afford to stay on here.

      ‘Signorina Smith?’

      The concierge was hovering anxiously. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Forgive my intrusion, but I can see how concerned you are. Please don’t be worried. The manager at the establishment you had hoped to move to left that note for you. He has informed us of a problem, and so it is arranged that you continue to stay here.’

      Callie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I’m afraid I can’t afford to stay here,’ she admitted frankly. The concierge looked as embarrassed as she felt and this wasn’t his fault. ‘I’d love to stay on,’ she added warmly. ‘Everyone’s been so kind to me, but I need to find somewhere cheaper. Maybe you can help?’

      ‘Please, signorina,’ the concierge implored, shifting uncomfortably from polished shoe to polished shoe. ‘There will be no charge. You have been let down. This is a matter of local pride. The management of this hotel and the staff who care for you will be insulted if you offer payment.’

      ‘And I’ll be insulted if I don’t,’ Callie said bluntly. ‘I really can’t stay on if I don’t pay my way.’

      ‘The cost of your room has been covered.’

      She swung around in surprise. ‘Luca! Are you following me?’

      ‘Yes,’ he admitted.

      ‘What do you know about this?’ she demanded. Luca, tousled and magnificent, couldn’t have looked more incongruous in the sleek, polished surroundings of the five-star hotel. She had to curb a smile as she glanced down at her clothes, and then at his. They both looked exactly what they were, labourers from the fields, which was another reason for decamping to another, much plainer establishment. Not that her body could have cared less what Luca was wearing. As far as her body was concerned, Luca looked better naked, anyway.

      A million and one feelings flooded through her as they stared at each other. ‘Are you responsible for this?’ she asked, holding out the letter. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the concierge, who’d returned to his booth, looking more anxious than ever. Something was definitely going on. Luca knew Marco. Had they pulled strings between them so that she would have to stay with Luca? She refused to be manipulated, especially by Luca.

      ‘I couldn’t help overhearing that you were having difficulties,’ he began.

      She bit her tongue and decided to wait to see what he said next. When he shrugged and smiled, threatening to weaken her resolve, she said, ‘I don’t suppose you know anything about my mysterious benefactor, or the fact that the hotel is refusing to charge me?’

      He raised a brow. ‘Don’t you like it here?’

      ‘That’s not the point,’ she insisted. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Luca was speaking as calmly as if he were a tour operator dealing with a quibbling client, rather than a controlling alpha male who seemed to think that everything and everyone should run to his prescription. He might have quite literally swept her off her feet at the party, but post-party common sense had had time to set in.

      ‘My only concern is that you have somewhere comfortable to stay,’ he insisted.

      She bristled. ‘Well, thank you, but I’m quite capable of making my own arrangements.’

      ‘They had a burst pipe at the small establishment where you booked a room,’ Luca explained while the concierge nodded vehemently. ‘Marco alerted me to this, and the concierge was only trying to help.’

      ‘How did Marco know I was planning to move to the B & B?’ she asked suspiciously.

      ‘I’m sorry, Callie, but you can’t live in a small town like this and not know what’s going on.’

      ‘So Marco told you?’ How could she have been so dim?

      ‘Stay on at the hotel,’ Luca offered, as if he were the owner of the sumptuous building. ‘You’ll be closer to the lemon groves here.’ He shot her a questioning look. ‘That’s if you intend to continue working on the Prince’s estate.’

      ‘Of course I do,’ Callie confirmed. She loved it on the Prince’s estate, and was nowhere near ready to leave yet.

      ‘So, come back with me.’

      Luca was waiting at the lobby door, as if it were all a done deal. Did he mean go back to the party with him? Or did Luca have something different in mind? She had paid for the hotel until tomorrow, and packing could wait until the morning. Meanwhile...adventure beckoned!

      More adventure? Why not? Luca was everything virile and masculine, drawing her deeper into the adventure she’d always dreamed about. ‘Thank you for your concern,’ she said, knowing she needed time to think more than ever now. ‘And, thank you,’ she added to the concierge as she walked away.

      * * *

      Callie avoided him the next day. His pride was piqued. However, everyone broke for lunch in the afternoon and congregated at the cookhouse. She was there, and they nodded to each other as they stood in line.

      ‘Luca.’

      Her greeting was cool. She hadn’t appreciated his interference at the hotel, he gathered. He was hot from the fields, and hot for Callie, who had spent the morning in an air-conditioned facility the size of an aircraft hangar. Small, neat and clean, she slammed into his senses in her prim little buttoned-up blouse. Her denim shorts were short and they displayed her legs to perfection, as well as a suggestion of the curve of the bottom he’d caressed last night. That was all he needed before an afternoon’s work.

      ‘Excuse me, please,’ she said politely, waiting with her loaded tray to move past him.

      The urge to ruffle those smooth feathers and make her wild with passion again was more than a passing thought. Weighing up the bandana he wore tied around his head to keep his crazy hair under control, she moved on to scrutinise the ancient top skimming his waist, though was careful not to look any lower. He took charge of her tray. Her gaze settled on his hands, and then his wrists, which were banded with leather studded with semi-precious stones, collected for him by the children of Fabrizio so he wouldn’t forget them while he was away. ‘I can manage, thank you,’ she said, trying to take the tray off him.

      ‘I’m sure you can,’ he agreed, ‘but sometimes it’s good to let people help you.’

      Her brow pleated in thought as if she’d heard this somewhere before.

      ‘Are you staying on at the hotel, or have you found somewhere else to stay?’ he enquired lightly as he carried her tray to the table where Anita was waiting for Callie to join her.

      ‘Is that why you’re here? To question me?’ Callie probed with a penetrating look.

      For a moment he couldn’t decide whether to shrug off her question or throw her over his shoulder like the caveman she thought him. He did know one thing. The tension between them couldn’t be sustained.

      ‘See you later,’ he said, turning to go.

      ‘Not if I see you first,’ she called teasingly after him.

      A little frustration would do them both good, he decided. Ignoring the buzz of interest that accompanied him to the door, he saluted the chefs and left the cookhouse.

      * * *

      Infuriating man! How was it possible to feel so aroused, and yet control the impulse to jump on Luca and ravish him in front of everyone? Which was probably exactly how he expected her to feel. The tension in the cookhouse had been high, and made worse because people were obviously trying hard not to stare at them. She had tried to start a conversation with Anita, but couldn’t concentrate and kept losing her train of thought.