Page 34 of Royally Roma
Via text message.
Perfect. Just perfect.
“What?Why?” She’d been doing everything she could to avoid eye contact with Mano. Being fired was mortifying enough, without the added humiliation of having him bear witness to it. But for a fleeting moment, her gaze fixed on his.
And she knew.
Somehow, some way, he was to blame for this fiasco. There was no mistaking the veil of remorse that had befallen his features. This was his doing.
He mouthed the words “I’m sorry,” and she wasn’t sure she’d ever hated a man so much in her life.
“Julia, Giuseppe spent the entire day facilitating Mr. Romano’s tour. I told him about your earlier call and your insistence that the client was with you. But that’s just not possible. Mr. Romano was with Giuseppe today. All day, in fact.”
Julia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Mano Romano was standing right there in front of her. He’d kissed her. He’d touched her. He’d made her feel special. He’d made herfeel...when she’d been numb for such a very long time.
But it simply wasn’t possible for a man to be two places at once.
“I don’t know who you’ve spent the day with.” Paola sighed. “But it was most definitelynotMr. Romano.”
NICCOLO CAUGHT JULIA’S PHONEin midair a millisecond after she hurled it at his head. Which was a damn good thing. Her aim was deadly accurate. Coupled with the force with which she’d flung it, he’d narrowly missed a black eye. Not a good look for a royal prince.
“Who are you?” Her petite form shook with barely contained fury. Niccolo did his level best to keep his gaze from straying to her blouse and those shivering, wet polka dots.“Who are you?Tell me right now. You owe me that much.”
Maybe it was the way her damp clothes clung to her delicious curves. Maybe it was the fact that his momentary lapse in judgment had obviously gotten her in trouble at work. Or maybe it was something more, something deeper, something to do with the difficulty he seemed to be having in tearing himself away from her. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he had the sudden, irrational urge to be honest with her, to tell her exactly who he was.
My name is Niccolo La Torre, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince of Lazaretto.
He couldn’t, of course. If ever there had been a moment to reveal his true identity, it had been the instant that they’d met. He still didn’t know why he hadn’t told her the truth at once. At the time he’d blamed it on the booze. And the simple fact that he enjoyed talking to a pretty woman who was unaware of his identity. But deep down, he suspected the reasons were more profound than that. He’d realized as much even then.
He couldn’t tell her now. Things had progressed much too far. A line had been crossed. A line that a prince had no business crossing. Especially a prince who was desperately trying to save his family’s reputation and secure the future of the crown.
She stood glaring at him. Her wide doe eyes shot fire. He’d never seen a woman so furious, wet, and wanton. And by God if he didn’t want to cross that line again. Here. Now. Over and over, until the line was as distant a memory as Caesar himself.
It would be a miracle if she ever let him touch her again.Ifhe had any intention of staying in Rome, which he did not.
“Call me Nico.”
“Nico?” she said, as though it were a curse word. “And your last name?”
He shook his head. “I’d rather not say.”
Revealing his last name was wholly and completely out of the question.
“Seriously?” She waited a beat until it became clear he intended to remain mum on the subject. “I don’t know why I’m even asking. It’s not as if you’d tell me the truth.”
“Nico is, in fact, my real name. I assure you.” His mother had called him Nico. No one else. And for that reason alone, it had always felt more real, more genuine than Niccolo.
He had no idea why he’d just exposed that part of himself to Julia. He hadn’t even realized what he was going to say until the words had left his mouth. Thoughts of his mother had been haunting him since he’d stood at the foot of Caesar’s tomb.
All those flowers...petals upon petals of painful memories.
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” she spat. “Mano...Nico...whoever you are. Thanks to your little stunt today, I’ve been fired.”
“You’ve been sacked?” That seemed extreme, even under the circumstances.
Who would let someone like her go? She was a brilliant tour guide. Her vast knowledge of art and architecture was staggering. He’d never met anyone who had such a passion for history, who could bring the past alive the way that Julia did. It went beyond education. It was the way she looked at the world. Her vision. Such knowledge couldn’t be taught. It was felt.
Whoever made the decision to terminate her needed to have his head examined.
