Page 50 of Royally Roma
Niccolo wasn’t so sure. “Then what are they doing here? And where on earth did they come from, because those men aren’t part of the security detail that accompanied me to Rome.”
“Your grandfather sent them.”
The king. Of course.
Piero leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I followed your instructions and assured him you were in no danger whatsoever, but when you refused to return to your duties last night, he insisted. A plane arrived from Lazaretto early this morning.”
“A plane?” Niccolo’s head began to throb. He’d made an even greater mess than he’d anticipated. How had he failed to see this coming?
“Yes, sir.” Piero’s voice dropped to a near whisper this time. “Transporting twenty security officers from the king’s personal staff.”
“Twenty?” His comment about being physically dragged back to Lazaretto had been facetious. Mostly. But perhaps that was the actual plan.
The entire time he’d been strolling through the market with Julia, had they been followed by palace security? Had those men in the dark glasses watched while Niccolo bit into the plump tomato and let the juice run down his chin? While Julia tipped her head back and laughed?
Had he really been so foolish as to believe he’d been experiencing a moment of privacy?
Maybe he deserved this. Maybe he deserved to be watched every waking moment of his life simply by virtue of the name on his birth certificate. Maybe it was the trade-off for being royal. Maybe he had no right to expect a day, a weekend to himself. Ever.
Perhaps he deserved to be spied on until the day he died with a crown on his head, but Julia sure as hell didn’t.
Rage like none he’d ever experienced before blossomed inside his chest. Piero had lured him here. He was being hunted like an animal. “Where are the others?”
Piero’s gaze dropped to the table. He could no longer seem to look Niccolo in the eye. “There are two here at the café, four at the Spanish Steps, and two more at the intersection of Via del Babuino and the Piazza del Popolo. Three are waiting back at the hotel, and the rest are spread throughout Rome.”
Niccolo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Such measures were excessive, even for his grandfather.
Things had gone too far. He should put a stop to this whole mess before someone got hurt.
Someone already has.
“I don’t give a damn about the security team. I still need the money. I’m not going back until I have it.” He’d made her a promise. He’d given her his word, and he intended to keep it.
Perspiration was practically dripping from Piero’s brow. “I don’t see how that’s possible, sir. Not at this point.”
“I’ll make it possible. You don’t need to concern yourself with how. Or why. Your only concern is getting me the money. I’m not asking you to do it. I’m telling.”
His secretary dabbed at his face with a napkin. “I could write a check on the royal account right now.”
Then he’d have to explain to Julia why he was handing her a check with the king’s seal on it. “No. Absolutely not. I said cash, and I meant it.”
“The earliest I can procure such a large amount is first thing tomorrow morning when the banks reopen.”
Tomorrow morning.
He couldn’t keep up his charade for another twenty-four hours. His travel diary was in complete and total disarray. Half of Rome, not to mention his grandfather, was furious at him. It was a miracle no one had recognized him yet, although the trip to the barbershop had helped tremendously.
To top things off, twenty trained bodyguards had been tasked with tracking him down and forcing him back in line. And two of those men were sitting less than twenty feet away.
It was time to give up...
If only giving up didn’t mean disappointing the first person he’d felt a genuine connection with in a long time. Too long.
Which was the only explanation for why he was about to do something as insane as Cassian’s little skinny dipping incident.
He stood and buttoned his suit jacket as if he were about to stroll into an ordinary business meeting rather than attempt to outrun nearly two dozen members of his country’s own security team. “Then I suppose we’ll see one another tomorrow morning.”
“Wait. You’re leaving again?” Piero rose from his chair. “Your Highness, I strongly advise you to reconsider.”
