Instantly her body began melting from the inside out, which really pissed her off. How could she still want the man? Did he have to become a serial killer before her hormonal self let go?
"I want to talk about you," she said. "I need the distraction."
"Not exactly the level of interest required to get me to spill my guts," he told her.
She smiled. "You know I'm interested. How are things with Amber?"
When he didn't answer, she glanced at him and was surprised to find him staring off into the distance.
"David?"
He leaned his head back against the tree. "I don't know. The same, I guess. Maybe worse."
"Worse? Worse as in Amber still isn't convinced we're not an item?"
"Something like that. Imagine if she could see us now."
Mia considered their position, sitting close together, David's arm around her. "Okay, it might look bad, but there's nothing between us. You won't even let me fantasize about what could have been."
She'd been hoping for a smile. Instead he shook his head. "What if she doesn't love me?"
There was stark pain in his voice. Mia shifted until she faced him.
"She loves you. She adores you. Women who don't care about guys generally don't marry them."
"What if it isn't enough? She has to get over this, Mia. We can't spend our entire married life fighting about you." He smiled. "You're not all that."
"You've been talking to Grandma Tessa, haven't you?" she muttered as she considered the problem. "How much of this is about me and how much of it is a manifestation of Amber's insecurities?"
"I'm a guy. I haven't a clue."
"Maybe we should ask Francesca."
"Maybe we should keep it between the two of us," he said. "I don't want this being talked about at dinner. That would humiliate Amber."
"Good point." Mia knew her sister would keep a secret, but she didn't want to stress David out any more than he was.
"I have to know if it's just nerves," he said, "or something more serious."
"I agree. So bring her out and we'll prove there's nothing romantic between us."
"How?"
"I'll come up with something. Then, if she still doesn't believe you, there's a bigger problem."
His eyes darkened. "I'm not sure I want to know that. I don't want to lose her."
"She loves you," Mia told him. "I'm sure of it. And she is, too. I don't think her fears about me are all that big. I think I'm just the object of all her prewedding jitters. But we'll find out for sure and then you two can live happily ever after."
"Promise?" he asked.
And because she wanted him to be happy and live a wonderful life, she said, "Yes."
* * *
Rafael drove onto the Marcelli property a little before two. Mia had insisted that they go to Daniel's play together, which was fine with him. He wanted time alone with her so that he could explain… Explain…
He swore, still not sure exactly what he was supposed to say. All she had accused him of was true. He could claim he was the prince and that he had a right to his son, both of which were accurate. Yet neither excused his behavior.
Of all the statements Brenna had thrown at him the other day, one continued to haunt him. "No one who genuinely cares about a child would consider ripping him away from his mother and the only family he has ever known."
Rafael had never viewed the situation from Daniel's point of view. He had not thought how a small child could be scarred by such an upheaval. He had only thought about what he wanted and what was best for Calandria.
He turned onto the Marcelli driveway and found humor in how closely the black sedan followed him. Umberto and Oliver had strongly resisted his decision to drive himself. Although he had assured them he was unlikely to be assassinated between the hotel and Mia's house, they had protested his autonomy. He had agreed to allow them to drive behind him in another vehicle, but had refused to let one of them sit with him.
He wanted to be alone with Mia. He sensed that the fewer reminders of his royalty, the better. She was not the type of woman to be easily won and his position was only a source of contention between them.
He parked next to the house and climbed out. Kelly stood by the fence, a cigarette in her fingers. She glanced at his new ride.
"I didn't know they made them that big."
Rafael nodded proudly at his new SUV. "It is a Hummer. Such things are not practical in Europe, but here, where the roads are wide and gas is plentiful, it is appealing."
"I guess." She inhaled on her cigarette. "The good news is I don't have to worry about you giving me away anymore. No one in the family would bother listening to you. They all hate you. It's kind of cool."
He frowned. "What is cool about it?"
"You were a real dick. I like that Mia is going to make you crawl and then refuse to give in to you."
He did not like her choice of words, nor did he appreciate her assessment of the situation. "Mia and I will reach a point of compromise."
Kelly laughed. "Oh yeah. I want to be there for that meeting. Are you clueless about all women or just Mia?"
"I am very successful with women."
"Right. We're all in awe of how you handled this situation. I mean, come on, Rafael. It was sneaky and really low. You're a prince. Aren't you supposed to be held to a higher standard than the average guy?"
"Why do all the women in your family feel so comfortable pointing out what I did wrong?"
"Because it's fun and we're all highly verbal. Besides, it's not like Mia screwed up. She was honest with you from the beginning. The way I heard it, she didn't even try to keep Danny from you. She told you about him within seconds of finding out you weren't dead. Face it. You're the skanky one here."
Were there any names they weren't going to call him? "I will not stand here and be insulted."
She inhaled again. "Then take a seat."
He glared at her. "As if your life is so perfect."
"I'm twenty. I'm allowed to make mistakes. What's your excuse?"
"What was the mistake? Etienne?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
"Have you told him?"
"No, I just broke up with him. No big."
He studied her. "You are not wounded by your parting?"
"Wounded by our parting? You might want to think about communicating in a way slightly more relevant to this century, your highness. As for Etienne, no, I'm not wounded. I wanted him gone and now he is."
Which sounded correct, but in Rafael's experience, young women did not heal so easily from relationships.
"You were sleeping together?"
She frowned. "Get personal much?"
"If you were sleeping with him, then you should miss him."
"Thanks for the news flash."
"Why don't you?"
"I never really liked him."
Kelly immediately looked as if she wanted to call back the words.
"Why would you sleep with someone you don't like?" he asked.
"Don't you have a grovel appointment with Mia?"
"I am early."
"Lucky me."
"You are avoiding the question." He folded his arms across his chest. "Why would you sleep with…" He nodded slowly. "Because your parents wouldn't approve of him."
She took a step back. "Whatever. I have to go."
He didn't take the hint. "So you wanted them to be upset. I have seen you with your parents. You have a good relationship with them, so you are not trying to upset them out of spite."
"I would never do that," she snapped. "Now just shut up."
"I will not and you can't make me."
"That's mature," she muttered as she crushed out her cigarette, then picked up the butt.
"How is your dancing?" he asked.
"What?"
"You are doing well with the company?"
"Of course. They like me. I'm a hard worker. I'm moving forward with my career."
There was something in the way she said the words. Something brittle and filled with pain. He felt he was close to the truth.
"Most girls your age are in college," he said.
"I'm not a girl, you sexist pig, and so what? Why would I want to spend my day studying in some stuffy classroom when I can be on the stage? Do you know what a rush that is? Do you know how many really cute guys send me flowers after every show?"
He could relate to nothing in her conversation and yet he knew exactly what she felt. Perhaps because he had lived his whole life in a state of duty— doing what was expected rather than what he wanted.
"You must have spent a lot of time working at your ballet," he said casually.
"Well, duh. Of course. Hours and hours. Francesca used to joke that we should get some kind of frequent flyer miles for all the times we went back and forth to the studio. She was great, staying with me through class and really encouraging me. My dad was just as proud. He…" She glared at him. "Why are we talking about this?"
"Because you feel guilty." He felt triumphant, knowing he had found the key. "You thought this was what you wanted and your entire family sacrificed to make it happen. Perhaps not with money, but in time and effort. Perhaps the younger children had to give up time with their mother. Now you have what you vowed you always wanted and you hate it. You're acting out in the hopes that you'll so anger your parents that they will insist you quit and come home. You might even want them to punish you by sending you to college."
Her eyes widened in shock. "You're wrong!" she yelled. "You're wrong and you're stupid and you're a liar."
With that she turned and ran away. Rafael watched her go and knew he was right.
"What on earth have you done now?" Mia asked from the entrance to the rear of the house. "Was Kelly crying? Were you mean to her? I swear, Rafael, you're really an amazingly useless human being."
He turned to her. "Kelly is upset because I discovered her secret."
Mia didn't look convinced. "You're not exactly someone any of us want to confide in."
He walked toward her. "You're right. She didn't think she had told me anything significant, but she did. I recognized the symptoms. She is bound by duty."
Mia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."
"She isn't happy dancing. She regrets her career choice, but because of all the sacrifices her family made for her, she feels too guilty to tell them. She's acting out, hoping to shock her parents enough so that they will punish her by bringing her home. She may even want to go to college."
Mia moved back into the house and he followed her. "You know I'm right," he said.
"I do not."
"Think about it. How unusual is her behavior? Hasn't it come on fairly quickly? The drinking, Etienne. She admitted she doesn't even like him. What twenty-year-old sleeps with a man she doesn't like?"
Mia leaned against the kitchen counter. "Maybe," she admitted. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."
"I have solved the problem of your niece, Mia. Admit it. That should be worth something."
She glared at him. "This isn't a barter economy."
He eased toward her, enjoying the fire in her eyes. "Of course it is. You have something I want and I have something you want."
"You have nothing I want."
He touched her arm. She wore a sleeveless summer dress and he brushed his fingers down her bare skin to her elbow. He was close enough to feel her shiver and see the goose bumps that erupted.