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The Royal HOUSE OF NIROLI

Secret Heirs

Bride by Royal Appointment

RAYE MORGAN

A Royal Bride at the Sheikh’s Command

PENNY JORDAN

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Bride by Royal Appointment

RAYE MORGAN

The Royal House of Niroli

SEMPRE APPASSIONATO,

SEMPRE FIERO

Always passionate, always proud

The richest royal family in the world— united by blood and passion, torn apart by deceit and desire

Complete your collection with all four books!

The Royal House of Niroli: Scandalous Seductions

The Royal House of Niroli: Billion Dollar Bargains

The Royal House of Niroli: Innocent Mistresses

The Royal House of Niroli: Secret Heirs

WELCOME TO NIROLI!

Nestled in the azure blue of the Mediterranean, the majestic island of Niroli has prospered for centuries. The Fierezza men have worn the crown with passion and pride since the Middle Ages. But now, as the King’s health declines, and his two sons have been tragically killed, the crown is in jeopardy.

The clock is ticking—a new heir must be found before the King is forced to abdicate. By royal decree the internationally scattered members of the Fierezza family are summoned to claim their destiny. But any person who takes the throne must do so according to ‘The Rules of the Royal House of Niroli’. Soon secrets and rivalries emerge as the descendants of this ancient royal line vie for position and power. Only a true Fierezza can become ruler—a person dedicated to their country, their people … and their eternal love!

To CB, for friendship and sweet reason.

Thanks for being there!

CHAPTER ONE

THE kid was going to fall right over the edge.

Adam Ryder’s anger at his son was barely leashed and he was fighting to hold it back. They’d come here for sightseeing, like all the other tourists strolling around them, but Adam wasn’t thinking much about history as he climbed into the ruins of an ancient Roman villa on a site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The island of Niroli seemed to be crammed with castles and old crumbling walls and all sorts of antique relics but that wasn’t what he’d come for.

Actually, he’d come to this particular location because it wasn’t too far from the hotel and looked to be a good place to let his six-year old son, Jeremy, loose to run off some of the excess energy that was making him such a pain to be around.

But his reason for being on Niroli, a destination he’d avoided all his life? Ah, that was harder to explain.

Still, even he had to admit the island had a magic quality. He’d felt it right away as they’d stepped off the flight from NewYork. The air seemed softer. The sunlight seemed to make things sparkle with possibilities. All of which immediately made him wary. He couldn’t let things like that seduce him away from his goal.

After all, to put it plainly, he’d come to Niroli to do a little fund-raising. He needed money to save his company—big money—and he was willing to do almost anything to get it, including accepting an unusual offer that had been made to him—the crown of this little island country. And there was nothing magical about that.

Meanwhile, he had to deal with Jeremy. He’d brought the boy along hoping to create a few bonding opportunities, but his interest in that project was waning fast. The thing was, the nanny he’d hired to come along and take care of his son had quit right there in the airport, loudly declaring she couldn’t stand the boy just moments before boarding the plane.

Adam kept remembering the odd, slightly triumphant smile on Jeremy’s face as she had stormed away. He’d faced off grown men in bar fights in his younger days with hardly a quiver of fear, but the look on his son’s face, just before departing all known civilization with only him in tow, still sent shivers down his spine. He knew how to handle adults, both male and female. But what was he going to do with this kid?

“Take him out and let him run,” the woman at the concierge desk at the hotel had suggested.

So here he was, letting Jeremy run. And the boy certainly ran. Up and down and all over the ruins, his blond hair flying in the breeze. At least he seemed interested in the ruins. That was something. He’d spent the entire plane ride asking, “Are we there yet?” until Adam had had to bite down on his own hand to keep from yelling at him.

Now Jeremy was balancing on the viaduct that had once brought water to the villa, a portion of which came perilously close to the edge of the cliff. Adam frowned. He supposed he should do the parental thing and warn him about falling.

“Jeremy, don’t go out on the edge like that,” he called out. “It’s dangerous.”

The boy looked back at him and laughed. Adam shook his head. What six-year-old boy laughed like that, with that wicked tone, as though he relished torturing adults? The only thing he could think was that he’d better hire another, tougher nanny, and do it fast.

“Stay away from the edge.”

Jeremy turned from the viaduct, but he began to climb the crumbling exterior wall of the old villa instead. Adam started toward him. This was getting ridiculous. The kid was going to kill himself.

“Jeremy! Damn it, get down from there right now!”

Jeremy turned to climb higher—and fell right over the edge.

The shout that came from Adam seemed to rip through the walls of his chest. Shock and then sharp fear jolted through him and he began to run, cursing and praying at the same time. Oh, God! What if …?

He threw himself into the ruin and began to scramble up the steep wall, heading for the spot where Jeremy had gone over the edge. The Roman bricks crumbled under his feet, making for impossible climbing, but then he gained the harder ledge and vaulted up into position. Looking down, he braced himself for the sight of his son’s shattered body lying on the rocks, thirty feet below.

Instead, he saw Jeremy kneeling at the feet of a slender woman, petting what looked like a golden retriever, and from his new vantage point he could see that there was a shelf, a sort of patio area, that jutted out over the sea, not far beneath him.

He took a deep breath and let his shoulders sag, but relief was followed quickly by raw anger. Now he realized that Jeremy hadn’t fallen. He’d jumped. Adam let out an angry shout, then turned and made his way to the stone steps he noticed along the side. By the time he reached where the young woman was sitting on an old stone wall, Jeremy and the dog had gone on down to the rocky shore beneath and were now frolicking at the water’s edge.

His anger at his son was only made worse by his sense of frustration, and he swore, then turned grudgingly toward the woman.

“Sorry,” he muttered, just in case she was the type to take offense.

And then he stopped and looked again. She was quite striking. Her body was slim and graceful, her dark brown hair sleek and shining in the sunlight and braided with a silk scarf the color of spring leaves. Her neck seemed unusually long and slender, making him think of ballet dancers. He couldn’t see her eyes as she wore a pair of very dark and stylish Gucci sunglasses, but the features he could see could have been classically cut in fine porcelain. In direct contrast, her mouth was full and lush and sensual, and her chin tilted impudently.

“I hope my son didn’t bother you,” he said, his gaze sliding over the creamy skin of her bare arms.

Her blouse was lacy, her skirt a wide swath of emerald-green gauze. Her feet looked delicate in leather sandals, the toenails painted a pearly pink. There was an elf-like air of the forest sprite about her, though she was too tall and well rounded to be a fairy. Altogether, she was very much the most enchanting creature he’d seen in a long time. He turned toward her the way plants responded to sunlight—as though he had to have her in his life.

“Oh, no,” she responded pleasantly. “I enjoyed meeting him. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

“Wonderful? Hah.” That almost startled a laugh from him, but he liked her musical speaking voice with its faint accent adding a certain lilting charm. “I guess you didn’t really have time to get to know him,” he noted dryly.

A frown appeared between her neat eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” she asked bluntly. “Why would you say such a thing about your own son?”

He hesitated. It probably did sound cold to someone who hadn’t been thoroughly annoyed by Jeremy yet. He had a pang of remorse. Maybe she was right and he was getting too cynical about the boy.

“Frustration, I guess,” he said, rubbing a hand through his sand-colored hair and giving her the up-from-under-his-eyebrows look that had been known to make grown women swoon like teenagers. “It’s been a long, wearing day.”

She didn’t swoon. In fact, her mouth thinned a bit. “Oh?” she said in a tone that bespoke impending boredom. It was obvious she hadn’t been charmed.

“We just flew in from New York,” he explained.

“I see.”

She turned her face and looked out over the ocean. He was feeling dismissed. That surprised him. In his Hollywood milieu he was considered a very attractive, not to mention very powerful, man. The production company he’d founded and ran to this day was one of the most important in the business, despite the takeover nightmare it was going through right now.

And beside that, he didn’t suffer dismissal lightly. If there was any dismissing to be done, he liked to be the one doing it. An impulse to confront her reaction rose in him right away.

But he fought it. For once he wasn’t getting the admiring female response he was used to taking as his due. So what? He had more important things to take care of.

Looking down at the shoreline, he saw that Jeremy was still playing with the dog. He supposed he should go down and join them. But at that moment, the dog shook water from his wet fur all over Jeremy, and Adam grimaced.

Between rolling in the wet sand with a boy and a dog and hanging around on the ledge trying to get a beautiful woman to admit he was worth getting to know, the choice was an easy one. It was the challenge, he told himself. He glanced at the stone wall she was sitting on.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, moving to do just that without waiting for her answer.

She hesitated just long enough to let him know this wasn’t her preference, but she was polite.

“Please do,” she said coolly, but she was gracious, shifting a little to be sure there was room for him and moving a huge canvas bag that looked big enough to contain all her earthly possessions.

He sat close enough to get a hint of her scent. It was fresh and spicy and not very sweet. For some reason, that gave him a frisson of excitement for just a moment, and immediately he was flooded with an urge to kiss those full lips.

He drew himself up, startled. He hadn’t reacted so viscerally to a woman in years—and he was used to being around a lot of beautiful women. Maybe it was the magic of the place, the soft, seductive breeze, the sound of the gentle waves on the beach below. He turned quickly, looking out at the ocean, thrown off a bit and not sure whether he wanted her to see how he was responding to her or not. If there was one thing he hated it was revealing any sort of vulnerability.

And that was a reaction he was noticing in himself more and more lately. He didn’t trust anyone much, but experience had taught him that beautiful women were the most likely to betray you in a purely personal way.

What was the expression? Once bitten, twice shy? He’d been bitten all right. He’d practically had his arm chewed off a few times. And, yeah, he was shy. Damn shy. He was going to require big-time proof before he could be convinced trust was worth the cost.

Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the game. He just didn’t expect to win any prizes or take home the game pieces when he won.

“Nice view,” he said gruffly, looking out over the huge expanse of sparkling Mediterranean water. “Do you come here often?”

“All the time. It’s my favorite place to come when I have big decisions to make,” she told him candidly. “Or when I feel the need to get away from it all.”

Turning toward him, she smiled and her small white teeth gleamed in the golden sunlight. “Or when I just want to commune with my ancient ancestors.”

“Ancestors, huh?”

He smiled back at her, ready to flirt if she was going loosen up a bit. Flirting didn’t cost much. You didn’t have to lay yourself open for it to work, and it could be fun. It could also lead to some quality bed time. You just never did know. And she was the most appealing potential bed partner he’d seen in a long, long time. It might be worth wading through her prickly attitude to get to the good stuff.

“This place is crawling with my ancestors,” she said, waving a hand in the air as though there were groups of them hanging around all up and down the cliffs and caves.

“No kidding?” He looked around at the rock wall behind them, willing to join in her conceit if she would let him play. “Why don’t you introduce me?”

She laughed softly. “What do you care about my musty old Nirolian ancestors?”

“You’d be surprised. I’ve got a few of my own.”

She cocked a sleek eyebrow. “Do you?”

“So they tell me.”

At last there was a spark of interest in her manner. He supposed she’d be even more interested if he told her he was King Giorgio of Niroli’s illegitimate grandson.

But it had never been a point of pride with him. In fact, he’d been raised with the vague feeling that it was really something to be ashamed of. There was no doubt that his maternal grandparents thought it was something his mother should be ashamed of. But then, they had always thought just about everything his mother did should be hushed up. And since they’d pretty much raised him on their Kansas farm, it was an attitude that lingered stubbornly in his psyche, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

“But I thought you just came from New York,” the graceful woman was saying.

“That’s right. I’ve never been here to Niroli before. But my father was … Nirolian.”

“Ah.”

She stretched the syllable out as though that explained everything—and not in a good way. He frowned. Her attitude was beginning to get on his nerves. But before he could probe it further, Jeremy shrieked and the dog barked. He rose, looking down to see what was going on.

“Jeremy, leave that dog alone,” he called down. He didn’t know if his son had actually done anything to the animal, but he thought he might as well cover all bases.

“His name is Fabio,” she said coolly.

“Who? Oh, the dog?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He turned and called down again. “Jeremy, leave Fabio alone.”

“You aren’t very good at it, are you?” she said dryly as he sat down again.

He looked at her, startled. “At what?”

“Parenting. You don’t seem to have the knack for it.”

He stared at her. Now he was sure of it. She hated him. What right did she have to decide to hate him at first sight anyway? He was a decent guy. And she was damn annoying.

“What do you know about my parenting skills?”

“I can hear it in the way you talk to him. You shouldn’t talk to a boy that age the way you do. You can’t order him about as though he were a soldier.”

He couldn’t believe this. She actually thought she could tell him how to raise his kid. “He needs some discipline,” he said, pointing out what was obvious to the rest of the world.

“Why aren’t you disciplining him, then?”

He stared at her. Was she purposefully goading him? “That’s what I’m trying to do!”

She shook her head. “There you go, raising your voice again.”

And he thought he’d been frustrated before? “What do you prefer?” he shot back, making a Herculean effort not to let his voice get harsher. “Do you think I should hit him?”

“Of course not. I think you should give him some structure.” She sighed. “I’ll bet you don’t know him very well, no matter how often you have him around.”

She turned toward him in that odd way she had. He wished she would take off those dark glasses so he could read more in her eyes.

“But it’s not often, is it? And you came to Niroli thinking you could get closer to your son just by being here with him.”

She had certainly hit the nail on the head with that guess. In fact, she seemed almost eerily clairvoyant. But he hated to admit she was right about anything. “What if I did?”

She shrugged her slender shoulders. “Well, I don’t think it’s working. And if you don’t improve your technique, it’s not going to work, no matter how loud you get.” She looked at him with pity. “You need help.”

He stifled the angry answer that sprang to his lips. She was just plain wrong, but arguing about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “Okay,” he said instead, opting with difficulty for sweet reason—giving charm one last chance to make a difference. “Help me, then.”

Her smile was meant as a reaction and not a way to draw him in. “I think not.”

Her superior tone was maddening. She was dismissing him again. Well, if she was such a damn expert …

“So how many children do you have?” he asked pointedly.

She raised her head, amused at how angry he was getting, and at how hard he was trying to hide it.

“Not one.” She said it without a hint of embarrassment. “I don’t even have a husband at this point.”

“Then why the hell should I listen to you?”

She tossed her head. “You’d better listen to someone. Your intuition doesn’t seem to be doing you any good at all.”

There, Elena Valerio thought coolly. That ought to do it. Now he would get up and storm off and she would be rid of him. And that was exactly what she wanted. wasn’t it?

She wished she could see him. That didn’t happen often these days. She’d accepted her blindness years ago and she had worked out so many ways to compensate, she almost felt it an advantage at times. But from the first, his brusque voice and his cocky manner had triggered something in her she couldn’t explain, and she wished she could put a face to the image she was getting.

She heard impatience and a world-weary cynicism that she didn’t like. He was a user—that was what she heard. His arrogance was only exceeded by his need to control those around him. At the same time he seemed to want to charm her, she sensed a strange coldness inside him that chilled her. He was everything she disliked in a man.

But he was still here. What was he waiting for? She sighed.

“Okay, mister. Here’s a free tip. Relax.”

“Relax? Why should I relax?”

“Didn’t you come to Niroli to refresh yourself?”

“No. I came on business.”

“Ah, that explains it. You should let that tension go. It’s tying you in knots. Your son can sense that, so he doesn’t trust you. It’s no wonder he defies you.”

Adam bit his tongue to keep from giving back to her as good as he was getting. He was sure there were a few home truths he could aim in her direction if he gave it some thought. But that would get them nowhere. He decided to take a new tack instead.

“You have beautiful hair,” he said, looking at how it gleamed in the sunlight and resisting the urge to reach out and touch it.

“Do I?” She seemed surprised. “I must say I like the way it feels on my back.” She swished it against the skin exposed by the low-cut blouse.

“You have a beautiful back, too,” he added for good measure.

She stiffened. “That’s getting a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Sorry,” he said unconvincingly.

“No, you’re not.”

He’d just about had it with her. “Would you explain why you took an instant dislike to me?” he asked.

“Does it come through that clearly?” She pressed her lips together, then smiled. “Good.”

He stared at her. He knew he should get up and leave. She didn’t want him here. And yet, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away. He wanted her to like him. Or maybe he just wanted her to admit he wasn’t that bad so he could be the one to dismiss her. He wasn’t sure which it was.

“Maybe I can explain my … less-than-friendly reaction to you this way. You think women should fall for you like … like apples in a tree, right into your arms. Don’t you?”

“So what are you saying?” he quipped back. “That you’re not ripe yet?”

She gave him a baleful look from behind the glasses.

“Or maybe, it’s this. That you’re forbidden fruit?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that one. “Bingo,” she said, then sobered. “Now if you don’t mind …”

“But I do mind.” He breathed in her scent again and knew that was part of the reason he didn’t want to leave her. She smelled like exotic fruit—forbidden or not. And he was rapidly developing a taste for it. He stayed right where he was and began to talk about simple, banal things around them, just to try to lower the unease between them.

Listening to him, Elena began to tap her foot nervously. He put her on edge and she didn’t like that. She came to this place for peace and resuscitation, not to be the object of a verbal joust.

She wondered for a moment if she should call Fabio back. She’d been told when he first came to work for her that she wasn’t to let him play with children. He was a professional with tasks to perform and it would confuse him to treat him like a house pet. At first she’d been very rigid about it, making sure he toed the line in all aspects of their relationship. But the more she’d grown to depend upon him, the more she’d relaxed. He was enjoying the boy. She could hear them both. That told her he was still close enough so that she didn’t need to worry. And they were having such a good time. She smiled. She would let him play awhile longer.

The man’s arm brushed hers and she almost gasped. Luckily, she controlled the impulse, but she bit into her lower lip to do it. He didn’t seem to notice. He was talking about the sunlight on the ocean and the quality of the water below them. Ordinary things. Things anyone might talk about. And though he hadn’t left, he wasn’t being so obnoxious anymore. She sighed. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. She shouldn’t be so judgmental. He was probably a decent enough fellow.

And yet.

There was something there that bothered her, something she could hear in his voice. An underlying unhappiness, perhaps—an old wound that still festered. Something that ate at him deep inside.

But she had no intention of trying to help this man. He wasn’t a friend and he was never going to be. She moved impatiently, about to call Fabio back to her side, but her foot struck the side of her canvas bag and she felt it overturn and spill its contents onto the ground.

“Oh, bother,” she muttered, leaning down to collect her belongings.

But he did it for her. “Here you go,” he said, but then he hesitated and she waited, wondering what he’d found that interested him among her things.

“So you’re an artist,” he said at last.

She frowned, surprised. “Of sorts,” she replied, thinking of her musicianship. She’d been extremely musical from the beginning, and once she’d lost her sight, at age four, she’d plunged into music as a way of communicating with a world that didn’t know what to do with people like her. “How did you know?”

“I can see you’ve been sketching.”

She went very still. What on earth was the man talking about? “Have I?” she said carefully.

“Yes. Here’s your sketchbook. It fell out of your bag.”

My sketchbook? What sketchbook?

Then her mind cleared. Ah, Gino. Her very gay, very artistic friend who often came along when she climbed out here in the ruins. He’d come along today, but had gone back to the house to make a phone call. The sketchbook had to be his.

“Mind if I look at these?” the man was asking.

“Oh, why not?” She laughed softly, wondering what else Gino had left in her bag.

She heard pages rustling, but there was dead silence from her companion.

“Wow,” he said at last, his voice somewhat strangled. “Michelangelo’s got nothing on you.”

She frowned, wondering what on earth that meant. “It’s nice to have one’s work appreciated,” she said ambiguously.

“You do have a way with …” he cleared his throat “ … uh, the nude male form.”

She choked back a laugh. Oh, Gino, what have you been up to? From the nuances she sensed in this man’s voice, whatever he’d found on the pages was pretty darn provocative. She could just imagine—Gino unleashed!

Good heavens. And just how did he suppose that a blind woman managed that sort of thing? But he still didn’t realize she was blind. People often didn’t catch on at first. She’d trained herself to move and express herself just as a sighted person would. Fate had played a very large, serious joke on her and she enjoyed playing her little joke on the world in return. Still, most people got clued in relatively quickly. Usually seeing her with Fabio and putting two and two together was what did it. But then, he hadn’t really seen her with her dog, had he? He’d seen his son with Fabio, not her, and the connection hadn’t been made. Interesting.

“So you like the style?” she asked, having a hard time holding back a chuckle. “Tell me. Which is your favorite?”

He choked for just a moment, and his voice was a bit ragged when he responded. “Why don’t you tell me which is yours?”

“Hmm.” She put her head to the side. “I think I love them all.”

“Right.” He drew in a sharp breath and didn’t seem to have a good response to that one.

He didn’t know what to make of her. It was obvious. Finding nude sketches in her bag presented a whole new side of her from his point of view. He was probably trying to decide whether to take it as an earthy invitation to intimacy—or to run for cover. The laughter bubble was coming up her throat and she didn’t know how long she would be able to hold it back.

“So. Do you hire models for this kind of thing?” he asked carefully.

She shook her head. She knew it was time to stop this. She could hear the intensity building in his voice. The thought of her sketching these nude male images was turning him on in a big way. And an aroused, aggressive man whom she didn’t really know was something she didn’t want to deal with. But she couldn’t resist one last needling.

“Why? Are you offering your services?” She raised an eyebrow and waited to see what he would say.

“That would depend on the compensation,” he said, moving closer, his voice deepening.

She moved a little away, but still asked, “What would you consider a fair price?”

He paused, and for some reason her pulse began to quicken.

“I always say the kindness of a beautiful woman is worth more than gold.”

His voice was low and seductive now and he was moving even closer to her. If his son hadn’t been romping nearby, she was sure he would have made some sort of move by now. Surprisingly, she felt a quick shiver of apprehension. The joke was played out. She had let this go on too long as it was. Once again, as her friends always warned her, she was playing with fire and she was going to get burned if she didn’t put out the flames right away.

CHAPTER TWO

“I’VE never been one to trust much in “the kindness of strangers”,” Elena said quickly, lifting her chin and making sure any hint of teasing was erased from her tone. Instead, she was back to being brisk and dismissive. “And I’m not hiring right now. In fact, if you don’t mind …”

Her words stopped in her throat. He’d leaned very close to her, so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“But I do mind, beautiful lady,” he said, his voice very quiet, but hard as steel. “And I don’t like being played with.”

He didn’t touch her, but she felt as though he had. Suddenly she was breathless and her heart was hammering in her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. Either way, it was something she wasn’t used to. And she wanted it to stop. Had she gone too far this time? Had she walked too close to the edge?

But in the next second, all was confusion as a crowd of tourists appeared on the ruin above the terrace, and Fabio was back, panting happily and pushing his head against her knee, and she sensed the man drawing away. And then he was calling his son and she heard the crunch of crumbled stone in his departure.

On pure reflex, her hand rose and covered the area of her face where his warm breath had seared it. His voice and the sense of his presence had disturbed something in her in a way she’d never felt before. She shivered and hoped fervently she would never come across the man again.

“Hey, are you all right?”

Gino was back. She sighed and smiled at him in relief.

“I’m fine,” she lied, then shivered one last time. “But I think one of my ancestors just walked across my grave.”

“Elena Valerio, you are in big trouble.”

She moaned softly and made a face as she settled back into her chair at the trendy sidewalk café she frequented every morning. She was talking to herself in public again. She had to nip this new bad habit in the bud. People would think she was going mad. Even Fabio had lifted his head questioningly. She could sense it.

“You know you’re in trouble when even your dog turns on you,” she murmured, scratching him behind the ears.

And so she was, though it had nothing to do with Fabio at all. Her trouble was all about a restlessness that had come over her since meeting the child Jeremy and his disturbing father the day before. She felt as though she’d been sleepwalking, living life in a daze, and now, suddenly, the man she’d met had shaken her awake. Awakening was painful. She had to face the fact that she’d been letting herself drift. If she didn’t pull herself together and begin to take charge of her life, she was going to hit the rocks.

Elena had lived in Niroli all her life, and that life had been pleasant and peaceful despite her disability. She’d been raised by her grandmother in a small cottage here in the sleepy town of Monte Speziare, where the old ways were treasured and the new tourist hotels and other developments to the south were looked upon with horror. Her grandmother had recently died, leaving nothing but the little cottage they lived in, and Elena was supporting herself by giving piano lessons and hoping to scrape together enough money to attend a special music therapy training program in New York.

At least, that was what she told herself. And yet, she’d just found out that morning that one of her best students was leaving for Italy. That left her with hardly enough daily fees coming in to feed herself, much less prepare for any sort of future. It was definitely time to start getting serious about things. She needed new revenue.

And she needed to stop thinking about men. Well, not men, actually. One man. One man who had shaken up her emotions at the same time he’d shaken her assumptions. It was strange the way he’d tangled himself into her thoughts. She didn’t like him and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Suddenly, she felt prickles on the back of her neck. “Oh, no,” she whispered. She didn’t need to see him. She could feel him. He was coming toward her and there was nothing she could do to avoid him.

Well, at least this was a completely public place. Maybe things would go better here. He couldn’t try to intimidate her.

Better yet, maybe they would pass without seeing her. She tried to make herself small in her chair, turned her face toward the stucco wall of the café, held her breath.

And then she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey! Look! It’s Fabio. Come on!”

“Jeremy!”

She slumped in her chair. It would seem that things were just going to get more and more complicated. There was no way out.

Adam saw her at the same time Jeremy did, and he tried, too late, to steer his son toward the other side of the road. Jeremy ran straight for the little street-side café where she was sipping a drink and he followed, reluctantly. The last thing in the world he needed was another run-in with the aggravating lady in the Gucci shades.

He had enough on his mind. He’d barely been in Niroli twenty-four hours and already he was itching to leave. Jeremy was driving him crazy and his first meeting with the counselors at the palace had been less than reassuring. He’d expected to show up, meet his grandfather, King Giorgio, maybe have a lot of people make a big fuss over how glad they were to see him, and then come away with a contract to look over, options to weigh. That was the way things were done in the real world, weren’t they? It should have been cut and dried.

Instead, he’d been received as though no one was quite sure who he was or why he was there wasting their time. He’d been shuffled from one room to another until he’d finally ended up talking to a dour man named Tours who had claimed they’d thought he wasn’t coming until the next week. The truth had finally come out—the royal counselors in charge of this thing were off on holiday and now they expected him to cool his heels until they came back.

He didn’t have time for that. His company was undergoing a hostile takeover back in California. He needed resolution and he needed money and he needed both fast. Strong words had ensued. Thinking back, he realized that hadn’t helped matters. He was going to have to work on controlling his temper. They didn’t seem to know how to react to it.

Tours had then insisted he transfer from his hotel to rooms in the palace, all the better, no doubt, to keep tabs on him. Adam had insisted he would do no such thing. If he had to wait around for a week, at least he was going to do it on his own terms.

And when he had asked to see his grandfather, Tours had acted as though he had to prove himself worthy first. But why should that surprise him? Had he really imagined they were going to welcome him with open arms, his illegitimacy forgiven? More fool he. It was more than evident that the situation of his birth was a big issue, and that there were factions who were opposed to him being offered the job in the first place. This had certainly turned out to be more complicated than he had been led to believe.

What was the big deal, anyway? All they wanted was to hire a king for their little island country. He’d put together multimillion-dollar international projects with fewer hassles than this looked as if it was going to take.

In the meantime, he couldn’t get hold of anyone back in Hollywood and he needed to make sure some dotting of i’s and crossing of t’s was going on in his absence. He was also going to have to warn Zeb Vargas, his number two at Ryder Productions, that this was going to take more time than he’d thought it would. Deals were hanging in the balance. Banks were waiting for authorizations. Writers and actors he wanted under contract were being enticed away by other producers with more ready cash. Profits were melting away in the sun. He needed to get things settled.

And so he approached the beautiful lady without a smile, nodding shortly and grunting a greeting, while Jeremy wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck and murmured unintelligible love to the animal, who accepted it all with happy panting.

“Hello,” she said, turning slightly toward him and then away again. “What a surprise. I didn’t think we’d ever meet up again.” She frowned slightly. “This is a bit off the beaten tourist path. Are you staying nearby?”

That was another problem. The press had already sniffed out his hotel accommodations and for that reason—and other, having to do with Jeremy—he was in the market for a new place to stay. Nothing seemed as simple as it should be in this little country.

“Not for long,” he said gruffly, wondering why she didn’t look at him. Memories of their last meeting came back to him and he felt a vague sense of irritation. She could at least pretend not to hate him.

“Can I take Fabio for a walk?” Jeremy interrupted eagerly.

Elena hesitated, obviously reluctant to extend the meeting. Adam picked up on that and shared her impulse.

“Uh, I think we have to get going,” he began, but his son’s intensity drowned out his words.

“Oh, please, please!” Jeremy cried, with Fabio happily licking his face. “He’s my best friend now.”

Adam looked at his son in astonishment. He’d never heard that childlike pleading tone from him before. Usually it was all demands and whining. There seemed to be something special in Jeremy’s relationship to this pair. Odd.

“Well, just for a moment,” Elena was saying, and he knew it was reluctantly. “I’ll tell you what you can do. Do you see a butcher’s shop down the street a bit?”

“Yes. The one with the hanging sign?”

“That’s the one. If you take Fabio to the back door of that shop, I think the butcher will give him a bone. He often does. Just knock on the door.”

“Great,” Jeremy said, jumping up and brimming with joy.

“Wait a minute,” she added. “He has his harness on today. You must hold it from the top, like this.” She demonstrated and Jeremy took over, racing off with his new best friend.

Adam watched them go, dodging the few people who strolled up and down the charming street, window-shopping in the tiny shops along the way. He was still impressed by how different Jeremy could be when he wanted to.

“That’s quite a rig you have on the dog,” he noted in passing. “It looks almost like …”

He stopped dead, looking at her quickly. Almost like the kind the blind use, he’d been about to say. And suddenly it hit him. The moment he realized the truth, he felt as though he’d been smacked in the solar plexus with a football.

“Yes, he is a guide dog,” she said calmly. “And, yes, I am. Blind, that is.”

He was still too stunned to speak, not to mention the accompanying humiliation of being such a fool as not to have noticed before.

“Oh, pick your jaw up off the ground,” she said briskly.

“I … I’m so sorry, I …”

“No need to be sorry. It’s been quite amusing. I threw all kinds of hints out there that you didn’t pick up on.” She smiled serenely. “I think you hold the record. You’re the most clueless man I’ve ever met.”

“I. listen, I just didn’t …”

“It’s been almost a good twenty-four hours, hasn’t it? I once went three hours straight with an elderly man with a hearing problem who didn’t realize I was blind, but he was talking at the top of his lungs the whole time. And at ninety-four you expect a little density. But you!” She grinned, happy to have found a vulnerability in him. “You take the prize.”

He knew he was flushing. Luckily, she couldn’t see that, could she? Now if he could just get a steady tone back in his voice, he might be able to get back in control of this situation. He sank into a chair across from where she was sitting and looked at her, hard.

She was blind. For some reason that tore at him in a way he wasn’t prepared for. What a tragedy. She was so beautiful. His compassion for her hardship actually overwhelmed his resentment for having been fooled— and that wasn’t like him.

A waiter appeared, offered coffee drinks, and retreated again, and Adam nodded his response, but his mind was completely engaged in this lovely woman’s situation.

“My son says your name is Elena,” he managed to say at last, leaning forward and talking very slowly.

“Yes. Elena Valerio.”

“I am Adam Ryder,” he went on gingerly. “And I guess you’ve picked up that my son is Jeremy.”

She groaned, letting her head fall back. “Mr Ryder, I’m blind, not deaf, not hard of hearing, or even somewhat slow. You don’t have to speak carefully to me. Please. Just use your normal voice.”

He flushed again, annoyed at … what? Being caught out trying to be compassionate? That was the problem. It didn’t come naturally to him. No wonder she’d nailed him on it.

“Okay, Elena Valerio,” he said, speaking in a quick staccato. “I’m Adam. And if you skip the jokes about the Garden of Eden, I’ll lay off treating you like you’re in need of a keeper.”

Smiling, she stuck out a slender hand. “You’ve got a deal. It’s nice to meet you, Adam Ryder.”

He took her hand in his and held it a moment too long, studying it, admiring the long, slender fingers, the pink nails, the smooth skin.

“It’s nice of you to say so, Elena Valerio,” he responded as she pulled her hand away again. “I hope nothing happens to make you change your mind.”

She looked startled. “What could happen? Why are you talking in riddles?”

He smiled, glad to be back in control. “Tired of games? You seemed all for them yesterday.”

It was her turn to flush. “Sorry about that,” she said breezily. “But you’ve got to admit, you asked for it.”

He wasn’t prepared to admit anything of the kind, but he didn’t say so. He was still trying to adjust to the fact of her blindness. There were so many angles to it, aspects he’d never considered before. He pushed away the pity factor immediately. His intuition told him she would scorn any sort of sympathy for her condition. And that left him to wonder at her elegance and how gracefully she seemed to deal with the situation. He couldn’t imagine coming to terms with such a thing himself. Anger and bitterness would probably rule his life.

As if they didn’t already, he thought wryly, though he knew he was overstating a bit. Still, no one would call him a happy man these days. A cynical man, yes. A hard man. Life tended to make you that way.

He’d been taken aback recently when he’d overheard a young female employee at his film production company say, “Mr Ryder is so hot. How come he never smiles?”

Smile, he’d thought at the time. What the hell was there to smile about, anyway? Who had time? Smiling was for losers.

And yet he’d made it a point to stop by the men’s room and look into a mirror. She was right. Smiling didn’t seem to come naturally anymore. He finally forced the corners of his mouth up into the proper shape but his silver-blue eyes didn’t join in. They were still as cold as an Arctic winter.

He hadn’t been born angry. In fact, despite having a mother who spent her days dashing about the world with the jet set, his childhood had been relatively calm. But it seemed as if he was angry all the time lately. Maybe that was why Jeremy was so impossible to handle. The sins of the father and all that.

He looked at Elena and wondered if she had a lover.

“I guess you didn’t make those sketches, did you?” he said sadly.

Her laugh sounded like chimes. “No, I did not.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“Such a pity.” She pretended sympathy. “You thought you’d found a woman with a lot of naked male anatomy on her mind.”

She had him there. The idea had been appealing. “I thought I’d found a very interesting woman, that’s for sure.”

“So women aren’t interesting if there is no sex involved?”

There was a pause, and then he said softly, just because he couldn’t resist, “Who says there’s no sex involved?”

“I …”

That stopped her for the moment. She actually blushed. He grinned. The waiter brought a tall coffee drink he didn’t recognize as anything he would have ever ordered, but he accepted it, then waited for the man to leave before he leaned forward and asked, “So if you didn’t draw them, who did?”

“My friend Gino did. He came out on the ruins with me, but he went back before you arrived to make a phone call and left his sketchbook in my bag.”

That made him raise his eyebrows. “So he’s the one interested in male nudes.”

She smiled. “You might say that. He’s a very good artist, isn’t he?”

“I suppose. Though I’d be a better judge of that if the nudes were female.”

Her smile faded. She didn’t need any reminders that he was aggressively heterosexual. His vibes were coming through loud and clear—and making her nervous. She had no intention of getting chummy. As soon as Fabio and the boy came back, she would find an excuse to leave. In the meantime, she didn’t mind sparring with him a bit, as long as he didn’t take it as an invitation toward anything friendlier.

He moved and she tensed, not sure what he was going to do, then felt a bit foolish when it was obvious he was just using his cell phone. She reached for her drink, as if that had been her objective all along, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Damn,” he said after a moment. “Why don’t cell phones work around here? I can’t get through to anyone on this phone.”

“Is it set up for international?” she asked.

“I bought it deliberately for just that reason,” he said. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a magic button or something.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to offer him the use of her landline. Her cottage was just around the corner. But she stopped herself just in time. She really didn’t want this man in her little house. Better not to suggest it. There ought to be a line he could use at whatever hotel he was checked into.

“Where are you staying?” she asked, since the subject had come up, at least in her mind.

“Why do you want to know?” he shot back without missing a beat.

“Oh!” This was surely the most defensive and distrustful man she’d ever met. She made a quick sound of exasperation. “What do you mean, why do I want to know? That is so rude!”

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “But, believe me, I have reason to not want people to know where I’m staying.” He hesitated. “We started out at the Ritz but I’m afraid we’ve got to move to another place. They’ve likely put our possessions in the street by now.”

She shook her head, uncomprehending. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

He sighed heavily. “My adorable son Jeremy happened. As usual.”

She frowned. The man was impossible. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about him that way.”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” He saw the look on her face and backed down a bit. “Okay, I’ll try to hold back on the sarcasm. But, believe me, you’ll be saying mean things about him too when you hear what he did.”

She made a disbelieving face. “Tell me.”

He took a sip of his unfamiliar coffee drink and had to admit it was pretty good. Settling back, he began his story.

“Here’s how it all went down. I was up half the night trying to make business calls to the States, so Jeremy woke up before I did this morning and headed out to see whose life he could ruin.”

“Adam!”

He grinned, then, realizing she couldn’t see a grin, shrugged and went on. “When I woke up and saw he was gone, I knew right away we were in trouble. I searched all over for him, looking for evidence of recent disasters. It took awhile, but I finally went to the hotel kitchen. And there he was.”

“And? What did he do there—sneak a cookie?”

“Oh, no.” He issued a short laugh. “Jeremy never does small things like that. I’ll tell you what he did.” He grimaced, remembering the sight he was about to recount to her. “You see, the kitchen staff were preparing for a wedding, and in a sweetly fashioned little portico they had placed a beautifully decorated wedding cake, all ready to go. It was about five layers tall. And I’m sure it was a work of art … before Jeremy got to it and licked off most of the frosting.”

She gasped. “Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes.” He groaned, stretching out in his chair and shaking his head as he remembered the horrible scene. “The funny thing was, he liked the yellow roses and gobbled them right down, but the red roses didn’t taste right to him, so as he pulled them off he merely squished them on the table. They looked like sad little soldiers lying there, abused and unwanted. It was heartbreaking. Really.”

Elena was trying not to laugh but it wasn’t easy holding it back.

“In the meantime, he dipped his finger into the white foundation coat, making swirly pictures as he scooped off hunks of white frosting and gorged himself with it. And no one caught him in time, so he just kept eating. He was looking a bit green around the gills by the time I found him—and still trying to stuff more frosting down his greedy gullet.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Poor Jeremy.”

“Poor Jeremy?” He was slightly outraged by her misdirected sympathy. “How about poor Jeremy’s father? Or the poor pastry chef? Or the poor bride, for God’s sake. You should have heard the screaming once everyone realized what had happened.”

She held back a chuckle. “What did you do?”

He shrugged. “I threw some money at them and grabbed the kid and got out of there. Believe me, I don’t think we should go back. We’ve been wandering the streets ever since.” He sighed. “So now we have to find a new place to stay. Then I’ll send for our clothes.”

He threw some money at them. She nodded silently, thinking that was probably what he did with a lot of things. Got a problem? No big deal. Here’s some money so I don’t have to think about it anymore. Heaven help any woman who got involved with a man like this.

Not that she was in any danger of that. She was pretty sure she’d made it clear that she wasn’t responsive to him. He must have picked up on things she’d said and the way she’d said them. He couldn’t be so dense—or so egotistical—that he thought she would be interested.

He was trying to make a call again, then muttered something and swore softly. “So where the hell did they disappear to, anyway?” he said.

She frowned, then realized with a start that he was talking about Jeremy and Fabio. She hadn’t given them a thought for some time now. Silently, she scolded herself. Here she’d just been thinking about how dangerous it would be to care about a man like Adam, and the next thing she knew, he gave her raw evidence that she was letting his presence turn her head as it was.

“I’d better go take a look and see if I can find them,” he said, rising. “Be right back.”

She nodded but didn’t speak, glad for a moment to steady herself. But she only had seconds to do that, because her friend Gino arrived just as Adam left.

“Hey, Elena,” he said, slumping down into a chair beside her. “Isn’t that Adam Ryder?”

Elena’s head rose in surprise. “Yes. Do you know him?”

“No. But you seem to.” Gino didn’t sound pleased. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“I met him yesterday at the ruins.”

“Did you?” Gino cleared his throat thoughtfully. “You don’t realize who he is, do you?”

She went very still. “No. Tell me.”

He patted her hand as though she needed consoling.

“You’re not keeping up with the local news, my sweet. He’s the latest candidate they’ve brought in to audition for the job of King of Niroli. He’s the illegitimate son of the late crown prince, Antonio.”