Page 16 of Incognito (Royally Reckless #1)

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“ I ’ll take the lot.” Dante swept his arms wide, encompassing every toy around them.

Natasha rolled her eyes. Dante looked like a little boy in a toy shop. An apt analogy, considering he was a big boy in a toy shop, and not just any toy shop. The king of toy shops, in Melbourne’s largest department store, a place she never had reason to visit but couldn’t blame him for liking. She’d been smitten too from the moment she set foot inside the massive fake doors guarded by six foot toy soldiers.

“You can’t buy everything,” she said, belatedly realising he could. If he wanted, he could probably afford to buy the entire department store. “I think you should choose between the toddler train set, the building blocks, the farm house, or the tunnel and tent combination.”

He stared at the toys, his brow furrowed, as if she’d asked him to make a choice between which heads of government received access to trade talks with Calida.

“The decision is a difficult one. I cannot choose.”

She loved how he alternated between casual and formal speech patterns. Who said ‘cannot’ rather than can’t these days? But for an accomplished prince, he’d been behaving like a little boy since they’d set foot in the toy department, and she’d use reverse psychology on him as she would with any kid.

Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “Fine. If you want Paolo to be a spoiled rich kid, take the lot. It’ll be good for him to know that when he breaks one toy, he’ll have an endless supply of others from his uncle to choose from.”

Dante’s frown deepened. “I don’t want him to be a spoiled brat.”

He hesitated for a second before pointing to the train set, a colourful conglomeration of multiple trains made from big stacking blocks perfect for little hands, wide wooden tracks, and enough extra blocks for the odd station on two to keep Paolo occupied for the next few months.

“I’ll take the train set.”

“Good choice,” she said, hiding her triumphant grin behind a smothered cough when he glanced her way. “And if that offer for coffee still stands, I vote we grab one ASAP. I’m all shopped out.”

And drained more than anticipated. She’d had a fun evening, but having fun with Dante exhausted her. Trying not to preen under his appreciative stare, trying not to melt in a heap at his feet every time he shot her one of his trademark sexy smiles, resisting his flirtatious glances, was hard work.

It wasn’t fair. The guy shouldn’t have so much natural sex appeal.

As for the loaded moment back at the jumping castle, she wished it had never happened. Being held in his arms, having him stare at her like he desired her, had almost been too much to bear.

She’d barely stopped herself from swaying forward and kissing him. It had been touch and go. He’d touched her, she hadn’t wanted to go, but the longer he’d stared at her and the longer she’d enjoyed it, the more frightened she’d become.

Having fun with Dante was one thing, falling for him another, and she had no intention of going down a one way street to heartache again.

“Thanks for your help tonight. I could not have done any of this without you.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, a friendly, impersonal touch that meant nothing, yet her skin tingled, her pulse raced, and she knew that having fun stuff with a man like Dante could be dangerous. Very dangerous.

“No problem.”

She wished.

From where she stood, Dante Andretti was one big problem. To her overactive imagination and underachieve hormones, that is.

“I’ll pay for the purchase, organise delivery, and we’ll have that long awaited coffee. Does that suit?”

She nodded, hating the way her heart lurched at his fancy words uttered in that deliciously deep voice.

Spending an entire evening with Dante had played havoc with her long dormant hormones. Once he left the country, maybe it was time to try a casual date with one of Ella’s fix-ups?

If this was how she reacted to a guy simply talking to her, she really needed to get out more. Putting business first had left her gauche and awkward around men, overthinking her reactions to Dante. Though she didn’t begrudge making Telford Towers flourish. It had been her main priority for as long as she could remember and she loved her job.

But what if she lost it?

What if the one thing that had kept her focussed through losing her mother, discovering Clay’s scam, and coping with the aftermath of both, was taken from her? And from her dad?

It would devastate them and she’d be responsible.

Again.

No, she didn’t have time to date. She’d be better off sticking to the plan of getting rid of Clay once and for all and trying to save Telford Towers in the process.

“Everything is organised. The store will gift wrap and deliver Paolo’s present.” Dante appeared before her, rubbing his hands together like he’d successfully conducted state business rather than negotiating a simple toy purchase. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm, marvelling at how easy it felt to be in his company.

No pressure, no expectations, just a laid-back vibe she’d never experienced with a guy before. Her time with Clay had been fraught with tension once the initial starstruck stage wore off; he’d seemed so polished, she’d always been afraid of making a faux pas. She’d aimed to please; he’d always find fault no matter how small or insignificant.

Yet with Dante, she felt more relaxed than she had in ages. Strange, considering her problems hadn’t eased. If anything, with every day that passed, the screws on Telford Towers tightened.

Determined not to ruin the evening they’d had, Natasha banished her morbid thoughts and turned to Dante. “Are you hungry? Perhaps we could grab dinner along with that coffee?”

He grinned, his face lighting up. “I didn’t want to push my luck.”

“Push away,” she said, actually winking at a guy for the first time in her life—while inwardly cringing at how pathetic she must look.

“Dinner it is.”

They rode the escalator down one floor, before leaving the department store and heading for a quaint trattoria, complete with old wooden tables, red and white checked tablecloths, and candles stuck into empty Chianti bottles, across the road.

“You do like Italian food?” She managed to keep a straight face at his surprised look.

“Of course. I’m Italian—” He broke off as she laughed and he shook his head. “You are teasing me. Or as I’ve heard people in your country say, you are ‘pulling my leg?’ My sister has gained this same strange sense of Australian humour. It confuses me.”

“No worries, mate.”

Natasha’s exaggerated Aussie drawl seemed to confuse Dante further as his brow crinkled in consternation, so she led the way into the restaurant and chose a table near the front window, determinedly ignoring the cosier, romantic options tucked away at the back.

“What’s your sister like? You haven’t said much about her.” She slid into the chair Dante held out for her, silently thrilled by his old-fashioned manners. “I have to admit, I’m surprised she’s giving you total control over her son’s birthday party. And even more surprised you’re staying at a hotel for your week of anonymity instead of with her.”

Dante’s frown deepened. “Our relationship is complicated.”

Intrigued, Natasha leaned forward. “Okay, now you have to tell me about her.”

He sighed, worry tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Gina is a wonderful woman, but a little self-absorbed. She loves to be spoiled and expects everyone around her to lavish her with attention, including me, who’s been aware of her games since childhood.”

That explained why he’d reacted to her barb at the toy shop about him spoiling Paolo. He didn’t want his nephew to end up like his sister.

And despite Dante saying his sister was wonderful, Natasha already had an impression of a selfish rich princess who was so self-absorbed she couldn’t be bothered organising her son’s birthday party.

For someone who had worked in the family business forever, she didn’t abide laziness or ego, and it sounded like Gina had both in spades.

“Gina has had my mother twisted around her little finger since birth, but being a female and not in direct succession to the throne, she hasn’t had the same responsibilities in Calida that I have.”

The tensions bracketing his mouth deepened. “Once Gina became of age, no-one could control her. I think Mother was relieved to have her meet an Australian cattle baron after she travelled the world, get married so quickly, and settle here.”

A rebel princess. Looked like that particular trait ran in the family.

“And she’s lived here ever since?”

Dante nodded, his brooding expression darkening his eyes to midnight. She’d never seen him so serious and she bet there had to be more to this story than he’d revealed.

“Gina is a single mother now. I don’t blame her husband for leaving.” He shrugged. “Not many men could live with someone as pushy and opinionated as her. Hence, why I chose to stay in a hotel during my time in your country. I love my sister, but living with her, even for a week after all this time apart, would drive me insane.”

Natasha didn’t know whether to feel sorry for Gina or judge her more harshly. Could she be as bad as Dante said, to the point she’d driven away her husband?

“Is she that bad, or is this a case of sibling rivalry? The poor prince gets saddled with all the tough responsibilities because he’s the heir, while his little sister gets to run wild?”

His look could’ve frozen Hades. “I don’t blame her for wanting freedom, but I do blame her for bringing a helpless child into this world and making him suffer for his mother’s mistakes.”

He tut-tutted in disapproval. “We all have choices to make, and when thoughtless people make stupid choices that affect their family, it’s unforgivable.”

Icy tentacles of dread seeped through her veins.

What would Dante think of her choices?

The stupid choices she’d made and how they’d adversely affected her family?

He’d probably look at her with the scarcely disguised contempt he felt for his sister’s choices and she would hate that. She didn’t want him to see her as some pathetic loser who’d fallen for a slick charmer determined to get what he wanted right from the start. She didn’t want him to see her as anything other than the woman he’d stared at with desire a scarce hour ago.

Thankfully, he would never know about her past, and with a little luck, he’d play a major role in shaping her future.

The publicity from his stay at the hotel would be a goldmine. It had to be.

“If you’d rather not talk about this, I understand,” she said, determined to change the subject. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

He waved away her apology. “Don’t be. You were simply curious about my family. I should be the one apologising to you for airing my family’s dirty sheets.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Dirty laundry, you mean?”

He snapped his fingers and finally smiled. “Yes, you are correct. My English lapses sometimes.”

“Your English is perfect. In fact, I was surprised you didn’t have an Italian accent when we first met but assumed spending the bulk of your education in the UK took care of that.”

A thoughtful gleam glowed in his eyes. “You know about my background? You studied me?”

“An important part of my job is to know about the VIPs who stay at the hotel. And as you said when we first discussed me helping you to go incognito for a week, anyone would research royalty staying at their establishment.”

It sounded plausible, if she could control the heat seeping into her cheeks.

“Attention to detail is very important and a highly regarded asset in an employee,” he said, his steady gaze flicking over her hair, her face, and settling on her lips, sending her blush out of control.

Thankfully, the long overdue appearance of a waiter saved her from responding, and while they made hasty choices from the menu and placed their order, she deliberately avoided looking at him.

However, once the menus were gone, the pasta ordered, and the wine glasses filled, she had no option but to stare at the man slowly but surely driving her crazy.

“You have done a superb job with every task I have set and been patient with me as I asked a lot of you. I am eternally grateful.”

He raised a glass of Chianti her way, something in his tone alerting her that he wanted to say more .

“And?” She prompted.

He took a sip of wine, placed the glass on the table, and smiled. “And I have one more favour to ask, though after our earlier conversation I won’t be surprised if you say no.”

“Try me.”

For a second, his blue eyes flashed danger, desire, and a host of infinitesimal possibilities, and she quickly rephrased, petrified by the glimpse of ‘what if’ in those aquamarine depths.

“I can’t respond if you don’t ask.”

He clasped his hands, placed them on the table, and leaned forward. She imagined he would look like this when handing down some royal verdict on an indecipherable problem of the world.

“I would like you to be at Paolo’s party. You have made the arrangements seem effortless and I know having your presence there will ensure that nothing goes wrong.”

Uh-oh. Doing a bit of easy legwork was one thing, fronting up to a pushy princess and fending off a dozen two year olds?

No way.

“Please?” His steady gaze implored her and her resolve to refuse wavered. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you are remarkable, Natasha. You have to know that.”

Remarkable? What did he mean by that?

For the last eighteen months, after Clay had battered her self esteem to the point of no return, she’d felt decidedly unremarkable. Foolish, deflated, and stressed, but remarkable? Uh-uh.

So to have Dante label her as such, to have him look at her like he’d never seen anything so wondrous… a woman could have her head turned by a guy like this.

“Please say yes.” His enigmatic smile make her breath hitch.

She opened her mouth to say no. Her lips formed the word, her tongue rolled around it, but somehow, when a word actually came out it sounded suspiciously like a muttered yes.

“Yes?” His eyebrows arched and his smile widened.

Sighing in resignation, she nodded. “Why not? But let me warn you, your publicity duties next week are going to be hell.”

He laughed, its rich warmth rolling over her like the sun’s rays on a perfect summer’s day. “As they say in your country, bring it on?”

“You asked for it,” she said, joining in his laughter, her heart quaking.

This felt too good.

The rich garlic and oregano aromas wafting from the kitchen, the cosy ambience, the muted candlelight, all served to highlight that tonight, she sat opposite one of the nicest, sexiest men she’d ever met.

She liked Dante, genuinely liked him. The kind of ‘like’ that could easily evolve into something more; if she was prone to craziness.

Thankfully, she favoured pragmatism over madness. She’d always been sensible, responsible, dedicated.

Then why the niggling feeling that now could be a good time to take a chance on crazy?