Page 28 of The Prince's Green Card Scheme

“If you like, I could tell you some of our history. Your husband informs me that you’ve never been here before. Is that so?”

“Um, yeah,” I say. “That is true. And some history would be great, actually. I’ve always wanted to come here. It’s been a dream of mine ever since I was young.”

“Then we could not be happier to be making that dream come true for you.”

“Sorry, what was your name?” I say, realizing I didn’t catch it on his ID.

“Cristian,” he replies. “It’s good to meet you.”

“And you.”

“If I may speak freely… we’ve been taking bets for many years on when Prince Paolo was going to get married. You are a brave woman to have tied the knot with him.”

“Ah, well, he didn’t tell me he was a prince when we met.”

Cristian chuckles, and I chuckle awkwardly too. I think it’s probably best not to tell him that this is the first time I’m hearing about all of this royal business.

Fortunately, he decides to move the conversation on after that, and we spend the next forty minutes driving through some of the most scenery I’ve ever seen. In the distance, there’s a mountain range. Out of the window, I can see the sea. Cristian informs me that the landscape looks like this because Bellamare is what’s left of volcanic activity in the sea. That’s why they have such rugged mountains while still being an island.

To be polite, I decide not to tell him that I already knew that.

However, he does then tell me a whole bunch of stuff I didn’t know about the history. About how Bellamare used to be part of Italy, until their independence in 1672. He tells me about themonarchy, how I’ve married into a family that can be traced back as residents of the island for nearly six hundred years and how, all being well, they intend to stick around for another six hundred.

“That’s a long time,” I say. “You never know what’s going to change in six months, let alone six hundred years.”

“True enough,” says Cristian sagely. “But I believe this country is going to last forever.”

As we approach the palace, Cristian tells me this isn’t actually technically a palace, but one of the many stately homes owned by the royal family. This is their summer residence, he explains. It’s further into the mountains so it’s cooler, but close enough to a beach that’s owned by the family, so they can enjoy it whenever they want.

Whenever we want.

This is going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to.

Paul — Paolo is so in for it when I see him again.

We pull up outside the house, and I try not to gawp. It has grand columns, statues, a fountain — everything you could possibly imagine a stately home having. As we get out of the car, I can’t help but stare. Surely this is some kind of joke. If I’m about to be caught on camera for Bellamare’s version of framing stupid tourists for their own amusement, I’m going to burst into tears.

But to my relief and also to my surprise and frustration, Paolo runs out of the front door and sweeps me up in his arms, kissing me on the cheek. “Chloe, you’re here.”

“Yeah. Would you like to tell me where the hell I am?”

“Oh, did Cristian not tell you? This is our family summer home.”

“So it’s true,” I hiss, not wanting anyone to overhear our argument.

Paolo grins without meaning it, his face glowing red as he scratches his neck. His hair is longer now than it was when we met, and his beard has grown like he’s forgotten to go to the barber and get it trimmed.

He puts an arm around my shoulders and says quietly, “I know I owe you a really long apology and a really long explanation. But please can we just get inside first?”

I decide not to argue with him anymore. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s not even that I’m scared of the public scandal.

But the guy is clearly going through a lot lately and I don’t want to embarrass him any more than he already has been.

No matterhowmuch all of this is his own stupid fault.

We head inside, and he drags me upstairs to what I can only presume is his bedroom. I perch on the edge of the bed and then look at him squarely. “Okay, explanation time. Now.”

CHAPTER 14

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