“No vehicles, just a golf cart for the luggage and groceries by boat,” Luca said, pointing into a man-made lagoon surrounded by stone walls as they passed. Two fancy looking speedboats were moored there alongside a utilitarian one that was being unloaded.
They entered through what had once been a scullery room. It was now a very smart if casual entryway with hooks for their jackets and a box bench where they left their shoes.
This was why he called it a cottage, she supposed. It was homey and he exchanged a friendly greeting with the chef as they passed the kitchen, nodding approval for whatever menu was suggested.
“The sun is beginning to set. He asked if we wanted to eat something while we watch it from the terrace or view it from the top of the tower?”
“The tower sounds nice.”
He relayed her preference, and they climbed to the belfry where no bell hung.
“I have no plans to ring it, so why replace it?” he said as he led her up a heart-stoppingly narrow spiral of stairs that took them to the roof. “This has been inspected. We’re safe,” he assured her.
“I forgot my phone,” she said with a pat of her pockets. “I want photos!”
She went to the corners of the roof, more awed by the view each direction she looked. She paused to watch where the sun was sinking behind one peak, leaving a glow of gold across the surrounding mountaintops. The air was clean and cool, the height dizzying enough to make her laugh.
“You must have loved coming here as a child. How long has it been in your family?”
“I bought it for myself when it came on the market a few years ago.”
“Oh. That’s interesting.” She glanced at him. “Why?”
“Because it’s beautiful and private.” His tone said, Obviously.
“You didn’t buy it to hide your women here?”
“Like a dragon with a damsel? Yes, I’ve lured you here and you can’t leave until your hair grows long enough to climb down. No, Amy. What women are you even talking about?”
“I don’t know. The ones you have affairs with. Discreetly. On private islands.” She turned to the view because this was a conversation they had to have, but she didn’t know how.
“Actually, this is where I hide from those legions of women, to rest and regain my virility,” he said dryly. “I’ve allowed my sister to stay here, but you’re the only person I’ve brought as my guest, female or otherwise.”
“Ever?” She moved to another corner.
“Why is that so surprising? Exactly how many lovers do you think I’ve had?”
“Enough to get really good at sex,” she said over her shoulder, as if she didn’t care. She did care. A lot more than she ought to.
“You’re really good at sex.” He came up behind her to trace his fingertips in a line down her back. “Should I ask how many men you’ve been with?”
“How do you know it’s just men?” She swung around and threw back her head in challenge.
He didn’t laugh. Or take her seriously.
“You really do have to work harder to shock me,” he admonished. “I honestly don’t care what you’ve done or with whom so long as it was consensual and safe enough that I don’t have to worry about my own health.”
Her heart faltered. She wondered if she could shock him with the deplorable thing she’d done with her teacher, but he set his hands on the wall on either side of her waist, crowding her into the corner. Now all she could see was his mouth, and her thoughts scattered.
“I’m very interested in what sort of history you’d like to have. With me. What do you want to do, Amy?”
“Nothing kinky,” she warned, reflexively touching his chest. “Just normal things.”
“Normal?” His smile was wide, but bemused. “Like tennis and jigsaw puzzles?”
“Yes,” she said pertly. “And read books to one another. Austen preferably, but I’ll allow some Dickens so long as we have a safe word.”
“Nicholas Nickleby?” The corners of his mouth deepened. “Tease. Will you sleep in my bed and continue to ruin me for every other woman alive?”
It was flirty nonsense. Banter. But she was incredibly sensitive to words like “ruin.”
She swallowed. “I don’t want to be your downfall, Luca. I don’t want...”
He sobered and brushed a wisp of hair away from her cheek. “What?”
She didn’t want to get hurt. Not again.
“I don’t want to get confused about what this is.” She touched a button on his shirt. “It’s just an affair. Right? For a couple of weeks? To, um, take the worst of the poison out of what’s going on out there?” She jerked her chin toward the world at large.
He backed off, equally somber. “We barely know each other,” he reminded her. “I’m not saying I don’t take this seriously, but I can’t promise anything permanent. I’ve never had the luxury of contemplating a future with anyone. Marriage has always been something I would undertake with a woman vetted by a team of palace advisers.” His mouth twisted and he dropped his hands to his sides, fully stepping away. “I still have to think that way until Sofia marries and produces our next ruler.”
“So you’re offering an affair.” She hugged herself. “That’s fine, but I need to be clear on what to expect since we’ll be pretending it’s...more.”
After a long moment, he gave a jerky nod. “Yes,” he agreed. “Just an affair.”
And wasn’t that romantic.
She looked to where the sun had set and the sky was fading. The glow of excitement inside her had dimmed and dulled, too.
“We should go down while we still have light,” she suggested, more to pivot from how bereft she suddenly felt.
He looked as though he wanted to say something, but stifled it and
