The Italian's Runaway Princess by Andrea Bolter

Author:Andrea Bolter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mills & Boon Forever Romance
Published: 2018-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

ALL GIO COULD concentrate on was the two kinds of comfort invading his senses. One was the calm presence of the morning sun through the bedroom windows, letting him know that he’d slept later than usual.

The other lay next to him in his king-size bed. Her Royal Highness Princess Luciana de la Isla de Izerote slept facing him, her exquisite features in repose without flaw. The blond hair she favored bathed her face in gold. If only he was an artist so he could capture her beauty this morning and preserve it for all eternity. Or if Michelangelo was still alive, Gio would commission him to carve Luciana’s likeness into marble.

Actually, he might not need anything to help him remember this morning, as the recesses of his mind had already snapped pictures he’d treasure forever.

Gently, Gio brushed away a strand of hair that fell from Luciana’s forehead across her eye. She stirred the tiniest bit from his touch. The ever-so-small curl of her lips affected every inch of Gio’s body, forcing his loins into an involuntary stretch.

With the mild temperature, he didn’t perceive the need to pull the blanket over Luciana’s alabaster shoulders. Instead, his eyes traced slowly downward to appreciate the curve of her breasts. He’d luxuriated for as long as he’d wanted to last night with the perfection of them in his hands, in his mouth. With his lips, his tongue, his teeth, he’d taken her entire body...

He’d done what?

Gio scratched his beard stubble as reality blew in the window. Late last night, after the disastrous attempt at cooking pasta and after they’d settled for tomato on toast and a humble table wine, the evening ended here. In his bedroom.

Where he took the virginity of a princess.

One who was engaged to be married.

Who was leaving Florence in a few weeks.

And whom he’d never see again.

It was hard to decide which of those truths was more disturbing.

Last night. With their laughter over their culinary foibles and her bargaining during their shopping expedition. Her cute yawn and outstretched arms as the evening got later. Finally her, no doubt, impulsive move to lean in and kiss him. He was unable to deny her. The faint voices in the back of his mind that had told him to be careful, to keep his distance, to remember that Luciana was to be a fleeting memory, had no strength last night. They went down without a fight.

All Gio had been able to hear was his own heart hammering in his chest and his gut stoking a fervor that couldn’t be contained. It was the savage need that had been unshackled at the gelateria and never restrained, waiting, waiting, growing more powerful every hour. With every indication that it was what she wanted, too, taboos were cast aside as he carried her up the steps to his bedroom.

Her Royal Highness arched her back in her sleep and Gio’s body firmed in response. Gazing at her, forgetting was easy. That she wouldn’t be his. And how that was what he wanted.

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