Kitabı oku: «Diamonds are Forever», sayfa 2

“No. Mother was an orphan.”

He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. “Is there no property left to sell?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her expressive eyes. “None. Except for the footage of her films, which I don’t own, there’s nothing left to prove she ever inhabited this world. The police lieutenant who investigated her death still hasn’t ruled out suicide.

“No matter how estranged my mother and I were from day one, I didn’t want to believe she was capable of taking her own life.” After a silence she whispered, “Now I’m certain she did.”

The break in her voice found a spot in Lucca’s psyche that haunted him.

In the next instant she put the bracelet inside the jewelry case and shut it. “Will you please ask Mr. Defore to dispose of this and everything in it? I don’t want to see it again and know I can rely on him for his discretion.”

Before he could countenance it, she shoved it toward him. “Thank you for being so decent about this. You could’ve had me arrested. Please tell Mr. Defore I’m sorry for having a breakdown in front of him. He was very civilized and should be given a raise for his composure.”

“I’ll convey the message.”

“I appreciate it. Though I hate to admit it, the dark side of the Carlisle in me comes out from time to time. The truth is, for good or evil I am part Carlisle. No matter how much I’d like to, I can’t run away from my destiny.”

Her words shook Lucca to the foundations. He felt like someone had just walked over his grave.

Tears dripped down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to be aware of it. “Do you know I’ve been sitting here calculating how long it will take me to pay back her debt so that I can restore some good to the Carlisle name?” She made a little sound of despair. “I don’t know what the House of Savoy pays its security guards, but if I can eke out $500.00 a month—which is all I can afford on my present salary, it will only take me 2,000 years to wipe out the debt.”

Her pain-filled laugh bordered on hysteria, but considering her fierce disappointment, he could well understand the display of raw emotion.

She jumped up from the chair and closed her overnight bag. “I’m the world’s biggest fool not to know these jewels were as fake as the life she led. Forgive me for venting in front of you like this—I’ve probably said too much already.” Before he could countenance it, her regal-like strides had taken her halfway across the room, leaving a trail of peach scent behind.

“Come back and sit down, Signorina Grigory. I’m not through with you.” He knew his voice had sounded peremptory just now, but it was an acquired trait he couldn’t seem to help any more than he could stop breathing.

She whirled around white-faced. “So, you are going to have me charged with unruly conduct. My mistake.”

Lucca stared at her for a long moment. “Nothing could be further from the truth,” his voice grated. The sadness she’d encountered in her life made him want to shield her from any more. “You haven’t done anything wrong. What I would like to do is talk to you further about your situation.”

Even from the distance separating them he could see her body tauten. “Why? It’s no one else’s business but mine. If you were hoping for an autographed photo of my mother, I’m afraid I don’t have one and never did.”

How tragic her first assumption was all tangled up with Kathryn Carlisle’s effect on men. He got to his feet. “What I have on my mind has nothing to do with your mother. Since I was willing to listen to you, I would hope you would grant me the same courtesy.”

There was a fight going on inside of her. He’d appealed to her sense of fair play while he waited for her capitulation. “I have a solution to your problem,” he said to add weight.

She let out an incredulous laugh. “You have a solution. Does that mean you can arrange for me to win the lottery?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he came back. His response managed to erase the mocking expression from her features. “However, I’d prefer it if we were seated to discuss it. Shall we start over again?”

Caught on the horns of a dilemma, she didn’t advance or retreat. She needed help. He intended to give it to her.

“Before we go any further, let me introduce myself. My name is Lucca Umberto Schiaparelli Vittorio V.”

CHAPTER TWO

ALEX studied the black-haired male who’d been interrogating her all this time. The second he’d walked in to Mr. Defore’s office wearing a light gray, hand-tailored silk suit that molded his powerful frame to perfection, he’d no more looked, talked or acted like a security guard than fly!

He was too well bred, too sophisticated. His faintly accented English had polish. Combined with his aristocratic bearing, she hadn’t been able to put him in any kind of a slot. There was much more to him than the fact that he was a tall, darkly handsome, olive-skinned Italian—in truth, the most attractive man she’d ever met in her life.

Now that she knew who he was, she realized she’d seen pictures of him flashed across the screen. She’d never paid much attention for the very fact that her mother had always gone for the larger-than-life types, just like Lucca. Anyone the media had hyped Alex chose to ignore.

In the flesh, the crown prince of Castelmare defied the normal adjectives one would apply to a good-looking man. There weren’t enough in the English language to do justice to his charisma.

With the Ligurian diamond on display, it was no coincidence he was here in New York. Undoubtedly he’d brought the famous stone to the States via the monarchy’s private plane.

This was her unlucky day. No man or woman had ever seen her this vulnerable before.

“You lied to me,” she accused him hotly.

“If you mean I didn’t correct your assumption that I was a security guard, then I have to plead guilty.”

“Does the royal Riviera playboy make it a regular practice to impersonate the hired help?” His dark eyes with their jet-black lashes suddenly took on a strange glitter that lent heat to her growing anger. “Or was it on a whim you decided to amuse yourself by toying with Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter while she poured out her guts? Either way, congratulations. You’ve made my humiliation doubly complete.”

Burning with rage, she turned on her heel and fled to the next room, but she was stopped at the outer door by an unsmiling, robust, Italian secret-service type planted there.

Naturally the prince wouldn’t make a move without all his bets being covered. She shut the door in the bodyguard’s face and wheeled around. Her nemesis lounged against the doorjamb of Mr. Defore’s office with his strong arms folded, insolently at ease.

More infuriated than ever, she said, “Am I to assume you’re the lottery, as long as I provide certain services? Would it give you some kind of perverted rush to claim you slept with Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter?” An angry laugh escaped as she shook her head. “You must be hard up for new thrills to consider handing over twelve million dollars to me, but unlike my mother, my body’s not for sale at any price!”

Undaunted he said, “I’m glad to hear it. Lovely as your body is, I’m not asking for it. However, I am in need of something else you could give me that would solve the most serious problem of my life … and yours. Come back in and sit down while we talk about it. This could take a while.”

“I can’t imagine being able to offer anything that would solve your problem … whatever it is.”

“You’d be surprised,” came the cryptic comment. “Give me half an hour of your time.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have to be at the airport later today and don’t have time to spare.”

He gazed at her intently. “Not even if the result of our meeting might mean clearing your mother’s debts once and for all? When I heard you cry out earlier that this was a matter of life and death, it sounded like you meant it.”

Alex studied him without averting her eyes. “I did.”

She heard his deep intake of breath. “What if I told you I have a situation that’s a matter of life and death for me, too. Would that make a difference to you?”

What was she supposed to say to such a question? Something in his tone led her to believe he might be telling the truth. Incredible how he’d turned things around so she felt guilty if she didn’t at least listen to what he had to say.

“I’ll give you five minutes.”

“Thank you. Come back inside the other room.”

Against her better judgment she did his bidding and retraced her steps. As she sat down, he spoke in Italian to someone on the phone before he took his place across from her. Then he typed something on the computer and printed it out.

Handing it to her, he said, “Your mother was married to royalty, did you know that?”

“Mother was married to four men with supposed titles, but in time those claims turned out to be false. Everything about her life was a sham.”

He eyed her narrowly. “Except that your father was the real thing.”

“You mean, a Las Vegas racketeer.”

“Rumors have a lot to answer for, particularly when they’re founded in jealousy and greed. Read what’s on the paper. You should find the information of the greatest interest.”

Alex looked down:

After the October Revolution of 1917 all classes of the Russian nobility were legally abolished. Many members of the Russian nobility who fled Russia after the Bolshevik Revolution played a significant role in the white emigré communities that settled in Europe, in North America and in other parts of the world.

In the 1920s and 1930s, several Russian nobility associations were established outside Russia, including groups in France, Belgium and the United States. By 1938, the Russian Nobility Association in New York was founded. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, there has been a growing interest among Russians in the role the Russian nobility played in their historical and cultural development.

Membership is exclusively reserved to persons who are listed in the nobility archives. Those titled members are recorded below with their former titles, genealogies and photos available.

Alex scanned the list until her gaze fell on the name Grigory. She gasped softly when she saw the last name on the Grigory royal family tree. It read “Prince Oleg Rostokof Grigory, son of Prince Nicholas Grigory and Princess Vladmila Rostokof, born in New York, 1958, now living in Las Vegas, Nevada.”

Her heart clapped like thunder as she looked at a picture of her handsome, dark blond father, who couldn’t be more than eighteen in this picture. The strong physical resemblance between daughter and father at that age was uncanny.

As her head flew back, a security guard entered and brought them two sodas. After he left, the prince pushed one toward her and took a lengthy swallow from the other. When he put it down again, he said, “Where did you get the idea that your father was part of the underworld?”

“One of my nannies mentioned that she’d heard my father was involved with the Russian mafia. As I grew older and realized what that meant, I was ashamed and frightened by the possibility. I hid away in case one of them tried to find me and hurt me. My repulsion over my mother’s ghastly lack of judgment in marrying him was so severe I didn’t want to know anything more about him.

“By the time she’d gone through her sixth divorce, so many preposterous tales were circulating about her and her past husbands, I couldn’t handle it and tried to shut it out. To my horror the police came to my work and told me she’d died of what looked like too much alcohol mixed with drugs. At that point it was too late to ever ask her what the truth was. I’m not sure she would have told me anyway.” Her voice shook.

He finished the rest of his soda. “You’ve been through a great deal of pain in your life. Nothing can wipe that away, but the sooner her bills are paid, the sooner you can start to concentrate on other things.”

A fresh spurt of anger filled her system. She looked back at her father’s picture. “Are you saying I should do something as crass and ignoble as turn to my father’s family for the money? Is that what you’re suggesting? A modern-day Anastasia story with an ugly twist?” she said. Her shrill voice reverberated in the room’s confines.

“Not at all,” came his bland reply, exasperating her even more. “But it might be of some comfort to you to get acquainted with the extended family you’ve never met or known. Your grandparents are no longer alive, but your great-uncle Yuri Grigory, is still living and has an apartment here in New York. I met him a year ago at an embassy function. I can arrange for you two to get acquainted.”

Alex was so stunned by what he’d just told her she didn’t know what to say. Realizing she needed to get hold of herself, she drank half of her soda without taking a breath.

The news about her father’s lineage had come as a total shock. Mafia or not, it appeared he did descend from a royal background, otherwise the crown prince of Castelmare wouldn’t have been able to produce the evidence she held in her hand.

Puzzled and confused by this whole experience, she eyed him warily. “If you hoped this information would help give me a sense of identity, I … I appreciate it.” Her voice faltered. “However, I still fail to understand where this conversation is headed. What does any of this have to do with you?”

He sat forward, impaling her with his midnight-brown eyes. She’d thought at first they were black. “My life has been the opposite of yours. I was raised in a happy home with loving parents, a loving sister, a large extended family on all sides and good friends. Everything has been ideal except for one glaring obstacle that has driven a wedge between my father and me.”

“You mean, he wants you to give up your wicked, worldly bachelor ways and marry the princess he’s had picked out for you from birth.”

After a pause, “I can see you’ve heard this story before.”

“One of my nannies read Cinderella to me. I didn’t like it.”

He cocked his dark head. “Why not?”

“When Cinderella’s mother died, she had to be raised by a cruel stepmother. I thought it was an awful story, probably because I felt like my mother had died. In fact, it was much worse because I knew she was alive, but she never wanted to be with me.”

The glimmer of compassion in his eyes forced her to look away. Once more she was embarrassed to have been caught baring her soul to this man who was a perfect stranger to her. The prince of Castelmare no less. “I always hated fairy tales after that.”

“Then you and I have something in common,” he muttered in his deep-toned voice. “When my mother read Cinderella to my sister and me, I hated it, too, because I wasn’t a normal little boy who could grow up to do what I wanted. I was a prince, and my father was the king. Because I loved him, I knew that one day I’d have to do what he wanted and marry a princess who was ugly and mean and whom I’d despise.”

Once the words sank in, Alex burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. What had started out as a strange, surreal conversation between the two of them had taken on something that went beneath the surface and resonated.

After her amusement faded there was an awkward silence before she said, “I’ve seen some of the princesses you’ve been with in the news and know for a fact they’re beautiful. Whether they’re mean or not, I have no idea, but none of the photos would convince me you despised them. Far from it,” she added pointedly.

He sat back in the swivel chair. “You’re right, of course. Several of my parents’ royal favorites are charming, lovely and I think genuinely kind. However, I have a little problem because I’ve never been attracted to them.”

“Just to the nonroyals.”

For a moment a bleakness entered his eyes tugging at her emotions, then it vanished as if it had never been. “What was it your George Washington said? I cannot tell a lie.” The prince had too much charm for his own good. “Have you ever had that problem with a man?” he asked, studying her features rather intently. “He has all the right qualities, but he doesn’t speak to your soul?”

All the time, Alex muttered inwardly. “Errol Flynn was the only man who became my fantasy. When I saw him in Robinhood, I asked my nanny to take me again and again. We saw it twenty-five times.”

It was his turn to laugh, the full-bodied male kind she felt to her toes. “I understand he still has a habit of speaking to every woman’s soul, even from beyond the grave.”

She nodded. “Some men are like that. Bigger than life.” Alex realized she was looking at one of them.

“Bigger than life,” his voice trailed. “A sort of chemistry of the body and spirit, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes,” she whispered. This was no shallow prince, let alone man.

“That’s what I’d hoped to find before now in the royal pickings, but it hasn’t happened.”

Alex had never given much thought to a problem like his until this minute. She was glad she wasn’t in his royal shoes because she knew herself too well and could never marry anyone for the sake of duty. Perish the thought of being tied to someone you didn’t love with your whole heart and soul.

Obviously, her mother hadn’t had the capacity to truly love anything or anyone except herself. Sometimes it frightened Alex to think that because she was her daughter, she might have inherited that same inability to be devoted to one man.

There’d been boyfriends, but Alex hadn’t yet suffered that grand passion her mother had managed to portray on the screen instead of real life. Maybe Alex never would. Aware something was expected of her, she said, “That could change in time. Some royal princess could come into your life you’ve overlooked. How old are you?”

“Thirty-four.”

Nine years older than herself.

“That’s still relatively young.”

“From my point of view I agree, but my parents had hoped I’d be married by twenty-five and a father by twenty-six. To quote my mother, ‘For you to be thirty-four and still single is positively indecent, Lucca. The whole country is waiting.’”

The way he imitated his parent made Alex chuckle. “At least your mother cares about you and loves you.”

“She does, but there’s more to it than that. My father’s not well and needs to step down. It’s within my power to lengthen his days by becoming king, thus relieving him of all responsibilities, but I can’t become his successor without first taking a wife. Those are the rules.

“As a way of playing on my guilt, my mother and sister continually remind me I’m the only son and the only one who can perform this duty to save the day.”

And Alex had thought she’d lived with a burden all these years.

She smoothed an errant curl away from her forehead. “What’s wrong with your father?”

“He’s had lung cancer.”

“I’m sorry. How cruel to him and hard for all of you.”

“It has been,” the prince conceded, causing her to feel an empathy for him she didn’t want to feel. “Part of his right lung was removed, leaving him in a weakened condition. Though he’s in remission, the doctor says this disease is tenacious and it’s only a matter of time before it comes back. The best medicine for him would be to give up the throne and relax.”

Alex cleared her throat. “Since you love him so much, it seems you don’t have a choice. Is there someone from the royal pickings you believe cares for you enough that you could see yourself married to her?”

“I can’t answer that question since I haven’t given them much of a chance to get to know me. The thought of marriage to any of them is something I can’t abide.”

Well, Alex. Ask a foolish question …

There was one princess Lucca had known for several years. Neither he nor Sofia were romantically involved, but they’d become good friends. Both sets of parents expected them to marry, but she wanted to abdicate her title and serve a humanitarian cause, thus allowing her younger sister to be the next in line. Sofia was waiting for Lucca to marry before she made the secret known to her family.

Out of loyalty to her and her wishes, he’d remained silent. Suddenly restless, he got up from the chair. “I need to choose someone who understands the situation for exactly what it is. No lies. No self-deception or pretense.”

“You mean, someone who has no expectation of love. Is there such a woman?”

“Among my parents’ short list? No.” Except for Sofia. Sofia who devoted her life to charity work in Africa and had a missionary zeal to help people.

He came to sit on the corner of the desk so his legs brushed hers. “But an extraordinary thing happened to me today. I’ve met someone who would be the perfect consort to come to my rescue in this emergency situation. At the same time I could help her in ways no one else can. She’s of royal blood yet is under no illusions about life or me. Better yet, she’s single and uninvolved with a man at present.”

As the portent of his words sank in, Alex’s eyes widened in disbelief. What he’d just intimated was so outrageous, an odd sound escaped her lips. She slid out of the chair to put distance between them.

“You are out of your mind and can’t possibly mean what you’re saying.”

He rose to his intimidating height. “I never say what I don’t mean,” came the words of steel. “When you get to know me better, you’ll realize I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

She shook her head. “So you’ll pay my mother’s debts if I agree to marry you. Then you’ll become king and two strangers will live unhappily ever after in a loveless marriage with no hope of producing an heir and both of us sneaking behind the scenes looking for fulfillment elsewhere.”

He gave a careless shrug of his elegant shoulders. “If that’s what you want.”

Alex hugged her arms to her waist. “What I want doesn’t come into it. This conversation is utterly absurd! Don’t you know that old movie script has been done and redone ad nauseum?”

One dark brow quirked. “But not to the tune of twelve million dollars. That will be my wedding present to you. In return, you’ll play the loving wife in front of other people, be it my family or the public.”

“I will not!”

“I’ve spent time with your great-uncle,” he continued talking, unfazed by her outburst. “Do you know you have the same regal bearing? I noticed it immediately. The perfect plum from the royal Grigory tree.”

She let out a strangled cry that was probably heard by everyone inside the House of Savoy.

“I meant that as a compliment, Alexandra.”

The way he said her name just now with his slight Italian accent made her body tremble. That angered her further.

“However tarnished the sordid legacy from my mother, I’m not a piece of fruit to be plucked!”

His expression grew solemn. “No. Like a gift from the gods you’ve fallen into my hands at the providential moment to save us both from a hideous fate.”

Hideous was the word, all right. The thought of going back to Los Angeles to face her mother’s creditors, to face poor Manny, let alone live with the smear tactics the media would always use against her caused bile to rise in her throat.

“I’m not asking that this arrangement last forever,” he added in a velvety tone.

“Of course not. Just a lifetime,” she blurted on a note of sarcasm.

One dark eyebrow dipped. “Who knows? Neither of us can see that far ahead into the future.”

She bit her lip. “How inconvenient for you.”

“You have no idea,” his voice grated, conveying some deep-seated emotion that caught her on the raw.

“When is your wedding supposed to take place?”

“Preferably yesterday.”

“Obviously.” She tried to hide her smile but lost the struggle.

“To answer your question, my parents have planned it for a month from today. The wedding ceremony will follow my coronation in the cathedral.”

Only four weeks? “I’m sure a royal wedding takes a great deal more time than that to organize.”

“You don’t know my parents. Everything’s been arranged. It’s only a matter of adding one detail … the name of the woman I’ve chosen. They’ve been living for this day.”

“That’s nice. I can’t say the same thing about mine. Now I’m afraid I have to go. My job is waiting for me back in Los Angeles and I have a plane to catch.” She started for the outer door once more.

“Is it your chosen career?”

When she reached it, she looked over her shoulder at him. “What? Putting makeup on movie stars? No. The job chose me and has kept me alive.”

He moved closer. Her heart did a funny kick. “What job would you choose if you could?”

That gave her pause. “You mean, in my wildest dreams?”

It was his turn to chuckle. “Is it that out of the ordinary?”

“For me, yes.”

“You want to be an astronaut?”

“No.” Her mouth curved upward once more. “This is something very down-to-earth.”

“What would that be?”

“It’s as improbable as my meeting a real prince today.”

“Why?”

“In the first place, I have to find a job where I can earn a lot of money in order to pay off mother’s debts before I do anything else.”

“And in the second place?” he queried.

“I don’t know if I could make the grade.”

“Doing what? Humor me,” he prodded.

“Plastic surgery.”

His intelligent gaze grew thoughtful. “Why that particular profession?”

“My mother was labeled the most beautiful woman in the world. Her love affair with herself was obscene. There are people out there born with facial problems who’d give everything they possessed to be able to look in the mirror and not cringe or grieve at the sight.

“If I could change one person’s looks enough to make life more bearable for them, I’d give anything to do it.”

A marked stillness pervaded the atmosphere before he spread his hands in a typical Italian gesture. “A noble aspiration. If that’s your raison d’être, then make it a reality once we’re married.”

Maybe she was hallucinating.

“Why not?” He read her mind. “Castelmare University in Capriccio has a medical school linked with the University of Genoa.”

The man was starting to get to her and that was frightening.

“Look—I was talking about my wildest dreams. The point is, not even I would want to be married to me. And lest you forget, one has to speak Italian to go to your university. For your information, I can only say one word in your language. It’s ciao.”

She opened the door to leave, but it was blocked by the same person as before. Another bodybuilder type was standing behind him. In the next breath she shut it again and turned on the man whose charisma was positively lethal. “Will you please tell Salvatore and his brother out there to let me pass?”

He let out a hearty laugh at her reference to the famous Italian bodyguard Salvatore Bartolotta, who lost his life trying to protect an antimafia prosecutor during the 1930s. While admiring his quick mind, Alex tried hard not to react to his full-bodied response. It made him appear younger and even more appealing. She hadn’t thought it was possible.

“Carlo will be flattered when I tell him. You’re obsessed by the mafia. Why is that, Alexandra? More than likely it was the mob that targeted your father because of his title and financial affluence. When he wouldn’t cooperate, they rubbed him out. I believe that’s the American term.”

The prince knew it was. He was too intelligent by far.

“Wherever the truth lies, anyone linked to the mafia eventually dies like the father I never knew.” She looked down. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. You’ve picked the wrong woman to help you out of your nightmare. I need to go home and face mine.”

“I’m not prepared to let you go yet,” he whispered silkily. “A little while ago you accused me of being hard up. That’s putting it mildly. My back’s up against the proverbial wall and my time has run out. I can’t fly home and face my parents without producing the name of my intended bride. As I’ve told you, I’ve been overdue in that department for the past ten years.”

She couldn’t believe she was still standing here listening to him instead of banging on the door to demand her freedom.

“And you honestly believe they’ll be overjoyed you’ve chosen the most unsuitable female on the planet to parade before your kingdom? Marriage to Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter will make you the laughingstock of the civilized world.”

“Let me worry about it.”

“I’ll do better than that. You won’t have to be concerned about anything because my answer is no! Can you imagine what the media would make of it?

“In a shocking palace exclusive today, the bachelor crown prince of Castelmare has bypassed many a royal swan to choose the ugly duckling of the deceased, washed-up American film goddess Kathryn Carlisle for his bride.

“Rumors at court say the prince hasn’t been himself since a golf ball hit him in the temple in Pebble Beach, California, where he was on hand for the U.S. Open with international supermodel Germaine.”

His grin disarmed her. “You, of all people, should know better than to believe the tabloids. That ball hit one of my bodyguards in the knee. Any photo of a model was superimposed for effect.”

Her jaw hardened. “Where my mother was concerned, I do believe them. Don’t forget they wrote the truth about her. Marrying you will give them enough fodder to start a whole new feeding frenzy.

“The headlines will read, ‘With the promise of a twelve-million-dollar wedding present, it appears the daughter is following in the footsteps of the mother. Time will tell if this is the first of her many marriages destined to fail. Bets in the Las Vegas underworld are already running high that the marriage will fall apart within months.’”

Something flickered in the dark recesses of his eyes. “Then prove them wrong, Alexandra.”