Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 Carol Marinelli (ebook reader computer txt) 📖

Guillermo thrust a tablet under his nose.

Luca’s head nearly exploded. The foulest language he’d ever uttered came out of his throat. “Where the hell was security?”

“They went up to the castle as soon as they realized they had a stray hiker, but he had already departed.”

The guards wouldn’t have sensed any urgency. Despite the regulations against visiting the ruins without a guide, the odd tourist still made their way up there, usually photographing the silhouette of the palace against the sunset. Since the lighting was so poor at that time of day, and all the private rooms faced the sea, the chance of compromising a royal family member was low. The paparazzi who’d made the trek had never struck pay dirt because even Luca’s father hadn’t been stupid enough to stand naked on the one visible corner of the terrace.

“We presume it was taken by an amateur,” Guillermo continued stiffly. “Given the photo’s quality and the fact it was initially posted to a private account. The images have since been reposted by the tabloids with... As you can see.”

Unspeakable headlines.

Golden Prince: Feet of Clay, Rod of Steel?

At least they’d blurred his erection, but they’d set his image beside a grainy one of his father in a miniscule swimsuit.

King of Vallia Inherits the Horny Crown

When he saw Another Molesting Monarch, he thought he might throw up.

“The PR team is discussing damage control. I’ve made arrangements for Ms. Miller to return to London.”

Luca barely heard him. For his entire life, he had kept to the straight and narrow and the one time he had stepped out of line, he was caught and being compared to his father in the most abhorrent way—

Wait. His heart clunked its gears, shifting from reflexive shame and fury to a glimmer of possibility. This was bad. But was it bad enough?

This wasn’t the scandal he’d wanted. Amy was being derided as badly as he was, but his heart lurched into a gallop as he suddenly spotted the finish line after a marathon that had gone on for two decades.

“She’ll be mobbed in London,” Luca said, his mind racing. “She doesn’t go anywhere until I’ve spoken to her. PR doesn’t take steps without my input.”

Guillermo’s mouth tightened, but he moved to the door to relay that instruction.

Luca drummed his fingers on his desk. This was far messier and more degrading than he’d wanted it to be, but he would owe London Connection an efficiency bonus if it worked.

It had to work. He would make it work.

“Has my sister been informed?”

“A secure line has been established.” Guillermo nodded at the landline on Luca’s desk. “The Privy Council is divided on how to react.” He looked like he’d swallowed a fish hook. “Some are alarmed and suggesting a review of the line of succession. I did try to warn you, signor. I strongly suggest Ms. Miller be returned to London—”

“I’ll speak to my sister.” With a jerk of his head, Luca dismissed him.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Sofia said. There was no ring of outrage or remnants of the secondhand embarrassment they’d both suffered after their father’s various exploits. No, there was a far deeper note of stunned comprehension in her tone.

Luca bit back trying to explain it wasn’t how he’d meant for this to happen. It was worse and he was genuinely embarrassed, but this was their chance. They had to run with it.

Also, focusing on his goal allowed him to sidestep dealing with the fact he was now the poster boy of depravity.

“You have no choice but to take this to the nanny panel,” he said gravely, using their childhood reference to the ring of advisers, now the Privy Council, which kept such a tight leash on both of them. The same ones who had insisted Luca take the throne despite Sofia being entitled to it by birth.

“My travel is already being arranged. I’ll meet with them the minute I’m home. I’ve drafted a statement that I’ll release the minute we hang up.” She paused, then asked with soft urgency, “Are you sure, Luca? Because I’m taking a very assertive stance on this. I don’t want to undermine you.”

“Sofia. Be the ruler you are. It’s what is best for Vallia. Don’t worry about me.”

“Impossible. You’re my one and only brother.” She took a steadying breath. He thought she might be choking up with emotion, but she was well practiced in keeping a cool head. She cleared her throat. Her voice was level as she continued. “I have questions that can wait, but I plan to make the case for you to stay on as my heir provided you’re willing to express your sincere regret and assurance that nothing like this will ever happen again?”

Which part? Being caught naked with a woman? Trysting with an employee? Or making love to Amy in particular?

Some nascent emotion, a grasping sense of opportunity, rose in him, but he firmly quashed it before it could become a clear desire. An intention.

Their “just once” might have turned into three times, but their connection was exposed to the entire world, and it was completely inappropriate. He didn’t want to be labeled the sort of man who took advantage of women in his employ.

“You have my word,” he said, feeling a tear inside him as he made the vow.

“Grazie. I’ll see you soon. Ti amo,” Sofia said.

“I love you, too.” Luca hung up and a cool chill washed over him, like damp air exhaled from a dark cave. It was done.

Amy hadn’t stopped shaking, even after a hot shower and too many cups of scalding coffee. The fact that she couldn’t seem to leave this room, let alone this palace or this country, didn’t help at all.

“I’ll pay for the taxi myself,” she beseeched the maid, Fabiana.

“It’s not my place to call one, signorina.” Fabiana set out ravioli tossed with gleaming cherry tomatoes and pesto. It looked as scrumptious as the fluffy omelet Amy had