Scandal With a Prince (18 page)

She double-checked the coverage on her robe before opening the door.
 
The head chef stood behind a rolling cart laden with covered platters, a basket of fresh bread, and two sets of silverware wrapped in perfectly rolled cloth napkins.
 
But it was the sight of two wine glasses that put her on alert.

 
“Santi?
 
What brings you here?”

“Your dinner, of course.
 
I wished to tell Anna how much I liked her thank you note for the mandarin cake—she included a drawing of herself and your parents enjoying it—so I decided to make this particular delivery myself.”

She pulled at the top of her robe, subtly making it clear she wasn’t in a state to receive guests.
 
“That’s so kind of you.
 
I’ll let her know.”

“She is not here?”
 
His voice was so low she barely made out the words.
 
“I saw her leave for the beach with a friend, but I thought she might have returned.
 
This order, it is not for her, is it?”

Damn.
 
“No.”

“I should have known.
 
She despises asparagus, even mine.
 
This is for an adult, yes?”
 
His dark eyebrows lifted.
 
“Could it be a man?”
 

She shook her head at him.
 
Santi hadn’t raised six children without forming definite opinions on their love lives, and more than once he’d told her he considered her his seventh child.
 
In a gentle, chastising tone, she whispered, “I say this with love…you’re being nosy.”

“Perhaps.”
 
His face softened as he rolled the cart into her entry hall, then lingered at her side.
 
“Or perhaps it is simply worry.”

“No need.
 
I’m perfectly fine.”

His dark gaze flicked toward her living area, then back to her, taking in her robe, wet hair, and makeup-free face.
 
“I make note of what our guests order for room service, especially in the suites.
 
For instance, I know who ordered this same zinfandel last night.
 
And who did not place any food orders today, despite extending his stay.
 
That same man could not tear his eyes from you the entire night of the fireworks celebration.”

Against her will, her lower lip twitched.
 
Santi noticed and placed a reassuring hand on her forearm.
 
“Only I know, and I will say nothing.
 
You deserve happiness in your life and I do not mean the kind one derives from a career or children.
 
You deserve a grand romance.”
 
He whirled his hands in the air as if tossing a pizza and drew out the last two words.
 
“But this man, he is a Casanova.
 
You know?
 
He plays with women.
 
Be careful.”

What would he think if she told him that Casanova wasn’t so playful as to pack condoms?
 
Instead, she leaned forward to give the burly man a kiss on the cheek.
 
“You, Santi, are a dear.
 
I promise, I’ll be careful.
 
Not that I’m confirming a single one of your crazy assumptions.”

He let out a heavy sigh, as if resigned to watching a headstrong child learn a lesson the hard way.
 
“In that case, I will say no more.
 
Enjoy your meal and your evening.”

She peeked under one of the lids.
 
“If this tastes half as good as it smells, I’m in for a treat.
 
Wait…is this other plate chocolate cake?
 
You know I didn’t order that.”

“Occasional treats are good for the spirit,” he said as he let himself out, “as long as you remember that long-term nourishment is more important.”

So much for Santi’s pledge to say no more.
 

Stefano joined her at the table a few minutes later.
 
He’d replaced his towel with the hotel robe that she’d left hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
 
The bright white of the robe contrasted sharply with his smooth olive skin and damp hair, making her desire his touch all over again.

Still, the atmosphere in the room seemed different than only moments before, when they’d shared an intimate shower.
 
The spell was broken.
 
Megan’s trepidation about having Stefano in her and Anna’s lives returned.

Damned Santi and his parental warnings.

Stefano must have sensed the change in her, because his mouth formed a grim line as he uncorked the wine, took the seat beside hers, then poured a half-glass for each of them.
 

After a few moments of silence, he said, “The call I received earlier was about an appointment I have tomorrow at noon in Sarcaccia.
 
I’m scheduled to meet with the head of our country’s transportation department to discuss progress on system upgrades.”

A nice dry topic for dinner conversation.
 
“Sounds important.
 
Does this mean you’re flying back tonight?”

He swirled the wine in his glass before taking a sip.
 
“I had a voice mail from my pilot asking the same question.
 
It’s a quick flight, so I told him we’ll go in the morning.”

She wanted to know when he’d return to Barcelona, but knew better than to ask.
 
Instead, she teased, “As long as you’re not exhausted from your busy weekend.”

“No.
 
If anything, I feel rejuvenated.”
 
He scooted his chair closer to hers, handing her one of the silverware bundles before removing the domed covers from their dinner plates.
 
He let out a low growl of approval as the scent of freshly-roasted chicken and steamed asparagus filled the room.
 

“Our head chef, Santi,” she explained.
 
“It’s one of his specialties.
 
I have no idea what he does to make it smell so divine.
 
Something with lemon and his home-grown basil.”

Stefano tapped his chicken once with the tines of his fork as he swallowed his first bite.
 
“This is decadent.
 
Did he also design the menu for the grand reopening celebration?
 
The halibut that night was the best I’ve eaten.
 
It’s not an easy dish to pull off for such a large group.”

“He did.
 
Santi’s a gem.”
 
An inquisitive one, but still a gem.

They spent the rest of the meal discussing Stefano’s travels, both personal and professional, and the range of hotels and restaurants he’d had the opportunity to visit.
 
Megan commented on the different management styles of the hotels with which she was familiar, noting when she’d visited some of the same locations.
 
When they finished their meal, she rolled the cart to the outside hallway and rang for pickup while Stefano carried the wine bottle to the coffee table.
 
He made space for her beside him on the sofa.
 
Once she was settled, he said, “The Grandspire is well-run, top to bottom.
 
I haven’t seen a single misstep during my entire stay.
 
You must be proud of what you’ve accomplished here.”

“I am.
 
Though I can’t take credit for the food.”

He smiled at that, then his expression turned serious.
 
“You mentioned at breakfast yesterday that your work here is nearly complete.
 
When will you start looking for your next position?”

“Soon.”
 
She adjusted her robe so she could put her feet on the coffee table.
 
“I haven’t had much time to myself the last few weeks with the grand reopening, but I’ve put out a few feelers.
 
Mostly in the United States, so Anna can see more of my parents.
 
But I’m open to Europe, if the right school is available and the city has frequent flights to the U.S.”
 
Of course, with Stefano in Anna’s life—for however long—staying in Europe would make visitation easier for him.

If
Stefano stayed in her life.
 
True, he’d appeared touched while looking at Anna’s pictures on her phone and he’d seemed enchanted by Anna today.
 
He’d said all the right things and acted as if he genuinely wanted to see his daughter again and get to know her better.
 
But how would he feel in a week?
 
In a year?
 
Once he returned to his life in Sarcaccia and reality set in, would he be so anxious to do the hard work of building and maintaining a relationship?
 
It wouldn’t be easy to find gaps in his schedule that would allow for discreet visits.
 
Even if he did, would he lose his fascination with his daughter?
 
Children Anna’s age could be trying at times, even in the best of circumstances, and who knew what Anna might be like as a teenager?
 

Of course…all that left aside whatever was happening between the two of them.
 

Stefano shifted on the sofa so he could pull Megan’s legs across his lap.
 
He smelled of her soap, her shampoo.
 
Yet on his skin, the familiar formulas took on a different quality.
 
More robust.
 
Definitely more sexy.
 
He rested one arm across the back of the sofa while his other hand settled high on her leg.
 
She expected him to flirt, maybe suggest they return to the bedroom in what little time they had left.
 
Instead, his demeanor remained serious.

“Do you mind if I see Anna again?
 
I know I told her I’d visit, but I want you to be comfortable with it.”
 

“No, I don’t mind.
 
In fact, I’d like it very much.”
 
She put her hand on his arm, keeping the touch firm rather than seductive.
 
“But we’ll have to be careful.”

“I told you, I won’t do anything to hurt her.
 
I keep my commitments.”

Like his broken engagement?
 
She exhaled, wondering how that thought popped into her head.
 
It was one more complication in what was already a complicated situation.

“I understand if you’re worried I’ll make promises to her I can’t keep.”
 
His fingers flexed against her thigh.
 
“I imagine every parent disappoints their children from time to time, but I’ll endeavor not to disappoint mine.
 
If I tell her I’m coming to visit, I’ll find a way.”

Megan had no doubt he believed every word he said.
 
“I know that’s what you want, but my concerns are broader than simply having you show up when you say you will.
 
What happens when friends or relatives learn you’re visiting her?
 
Take tonight:
 
If the reception desk sent Julia and Marta up rather than buzzing me first, there would have been some explaining to do.
 
I don’t think either of us are prepared for that.
 
Anna definitely isn’t.”
 

Santi would raise questions, too, if Stefano appeared in Barcelona again.
 
Worse, if Santi connected the dots and guessed that Stefano fathered Anna, she doubted the chef would be able to keep it to himself.
 
He’d tell his wife, at the very least.
 
From there, who knew where the information might go.
 

“Still,” Megan continued, “if you want to visit her, I’m sure we can find a way to make it work.”

“And you?”
 
His voice was low, both sensuous and cautious.
 
“I want to see you again.”

She tried for a lighthearted answer.
 
“Tough to see Anna without seeing me.
 
The suite’s not that big.”

“You know what I mean.”

She let her gaze fall to his long fingers, still splayed across the top of her leg.
 
Anyone looking at the two of them sitting on the sofa would think she and Stefano were a passionate newlywed couple, unable to keep their hands off each other for the duration of a conversation; she knew better.
 
“I don’t know if that’s wise.”

Today had been a gift.
 
A memory she’d cherish the rest of her life, just as she did the memory of their first encounter.
 
But they both knew there was no future in it, not for the two of them.
 
His life could never be hers.
 
Even if she wanted to give up her freedom for a royal life—assuming the Barrali family would accept an American nobody from Minnesota as a romantic partner for their son—she couldn’t force that life upon Anna.
 
She wouldn’t.

Stefano would soon realize the futility of it, too.
 
While they’d be forever bound by Anna, eventually the romantic aspect of their relationship would end, and Megan’s heart would break.
 
She couldn’t stare that heartbreak in the face every time Stefano wanted to spend time with their daughter.
 
She definitely couldn’t stand it if—when—the press discovered Anna’s parentage, they also discovered that the fling hadn’t ended at Anna’s conception.
 
The longer she let this go on, the greater the chance that could happen.