His Royal Love-Child. Lynn Harris RayeЧитать онлайн книгу.

      CHAPTER TWO

      HE WAS A devil. A devil that mesmerized her with his honeyed words and seriously fine form. Charlotte shook her head as her heart kicked up another level.

      “Forget it. Been there, done that.” Got the broken heart. Not that she was mentioning that part.

      “At least let me buy you a drink.”

      His voice was so smooth, so cultured. He made her feel awkward and out of her league. She was just Charlotte Bailey, a girl who designed themes for parties and events, and he was Prince Luca De Santis. Heir to the throne of Iria. He had not been the Crown Prince ten years ago, but she’d read that his uncle had recently made him heir after his own son had died due to a long illness.

      “I-I have to go.”

      He stepped forward, into her space, and she drew in a deep breath filled with the scent of him. Expensive, exquisite, refined. Money and heritage and luxury.

      He took her hand and she felt the zing of that touch all the way to her toes.

      “You don’t want to go, Charlotte. You want to have a drink with me.”

      “I—” Words failed her as she gazed up into brilliant green eyes.

      He tucked her hand into his arm. “Come.”

      She found herself hustled into a private lounge where a waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and two expensive crystal glasses. He popped the cork and poured and then they were alone. Luca put a glass in her hand and then he lifted his own.

      “To old friends.”

      “We are not friends.”

      “We were. We could be again.”

      Her heart thrummed. “My mother cried for a very long time, you know. It took her years to get over your father. She is married now, and happy.”

      His eyes glittered in the dimly lit room. “I am sorry, Charlotte. I had nothing to do with my father’s decision.”

      She looked down at the wine. “I know that. But you didn’t call me. Not once.”

      He set his glass down and rubbed his temple. “I should have. But you were gone and there seemed to be no point in it. My duties in Iria took up all my time.”

      Shame throbbed within her. No point in it? She’d loved him, and she’d thought he loved her. But, yes, she’d known it had been time for his compulsory military service. Even then, he could have called her when the two years were up. He had not.

      “It was quite a sobering moment in my life.”

      He leaned toward her, slid the tips of his fingers over her face while she trembled. She should push him away. But she couldn’t quite manage it, not when her entire body bent toward his touch.

      “I am grateful for the gift you gave me, bella mia. Your trust, your heart, your innocence. I have never forgotten it.”

      Charlotte’s lip trembled and she cursed herself for the weakness. She was not about to cry over a ten-year-old affair. Getting your heart broken at eighteen was melodramatic at best. She was a woman now, and she had no room for melodrama.

      She set the wine down and slid out of his reach. That part of her life was over. “Thank you for the wine, but I really should go now.”

      This time when she stood and walked away, he did not stop her.

      * * *

      Charlotte called in sick the next morning. Heather was sympathetic, which made Charlotte feel guilty. But Heather had plenty of people on staff, and she wouldn’t miss Charlotte for a day. Or maybe it would turn into two considering how rattled she still felt about seeing Luca so unexpectedly.

      Charlotte made coffee and took the newspaper into her tiny living room to read. There was a story on page four about the conference and Prince Luca. He was here to finalize a deal that would create more jobs in Iria’s tech sector. Thankfully, the conference was over tomorrow and he would be on his way home again. Safely out of her city and her orbit.

      The doorbell rang as she was pouring her second cup of coffee. When she peered through the peephole, the man on the other side was wearing a dark suit and holding a bouquet of flowers. Charlotte sighed. No doubt a suitor for her beautiful neighbor across the hall. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. She opened the door, prepared to tell him he’d made a mistake—but the man stepped aside. Luca stood there, resplendent in a dove gray suit that surely cost more than the rent on her apartment.

      “Buongiorno, Charlotte.” He took the flowers from the man and held them out. “These are for you.”

      Charlotte could only stare. Across the hall, a door opened. Charlotte’s gaze clashed with her neighbor’s. The woman eyed Luca and his bodyguard. She was wearing a pair of short shorts and a shirt with no bra. Her blond hair was artfully messy. And even without a stitch of makeup, she was beautiful.