Italian Groom, Princess Bride

“She could never marry you, let alone acknowledge you or your love-child in public either! How does that sit with you?”

“I’m going to get word to her I’m here in the greenhouse, waiting to talk to her.”

Dizo’s father patted his arm. “Corragio, figlio mio.”

This went beyond courage. Dizo didn’t have a choice but to face the situation head on. A scandal like this would rock the royal palace. It would undermine the honor of both his family and Gina’s.

He thought of other royal families who’d been caught up in similar situations. Once the press got wind of what was going on in Castelmare their lives would never be the same. They’d all be labeled and crucified. The torment would never end.

For himself, it didn’t matter. For Gina, he would do whatever it took to protect her.

Rebecca Winters, whose family of four children has now swelled to include three beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high Alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her Mills & Boon® Romance novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and her church. Rebecca loves to hear from her readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website at: www.cleanromances.com

ITALIAN GROOM, PRINCESS BRIDE

BY

REBECCA WINTERS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

“GUIDO?”

The wiry head gardener of the palace grounds turned around. He’d just lowered a bag of peat moss onto the pile inside the nursery shed behind the greenhouse. When he saw who it was, he made a slight bow.

“Buona sera, Principessa. I’m very sorry about your father.” Though he was civil to her, she’d always felt his reticence around her. Of late she’d sensed his antipathy.

No matter how many times she’d asked him to call her Regina, he’d always called her Princess and insisted his sons did, too. The rigid, class-conscious father of three would maintain his distance to the grave.

“Thank you, Guido. I am, too,” Regina murmured.

No one could have had a more wonderful parent than the man who’d reigned over the European Principality of Castelmare since before she’d been born. Lung cancer had finally taken her father and although it had been a blessed release, Rudolfo Vittorio IV had died too young.

Her mother was handling it exceptionally well, probably because his long suffering was over and she had a new three-month-old granddaughter to dote on. Regina’s older brother, Lucca, now king, and his wife, Alexandra, had each other and their darling Catarina. Everyone had someone. Now more than ever before Regina needed the one man she’d always loved, the man who’d been her closest friend and confidante from the age of ten.

“What can I do for you?”

“Is Dinozzo still on the grounds?”

“No,” was all he said before he went out of the doors to pull another bag off the bed of his truck. She flinched because Guido’s behavior bordered on open hostility.

Her watch said it was after 6:00 p.m. She’d planned to come this late so Dizo, her special nickname for him, would be through with any jobs his father had saved for him after leaving the university’s animal hospital. Filled with a fierce disappointment that she’d missed him, she followed Guido.

“If you should talk to him tonight, will you please tell him I’d like a word with him in the morning about some plantings we discussed earlier?”

He went back out to the truck to pick up another bag. “I would, but he left for Sardinia.”

She almost doubled over in shock.

Sardinia—

Without any other explanation, Guido returned to the shed to deposit the bag.

“W-when did he leave?” her voice faltered. She’d been counting on him being here so they could talk. In her loneliest hours she could always turn to him. He’d been there for her at every crossroad. When she’d been betrothed to Crown Prince Nicolas of Pedrosa at the age of twenty-one, she’d run to Dizo in turmoil. Somehow he had always made her feel better.

“Early this morning.”

Early meant even before the funeral. While Guido sounded exceptionally happy about it, pain seared her so deeply she couldn’t breathe.

While she and her family had been burying their father and husband in the plot that held all the past Castelmare rulers of the House of Savoy, Dizo had just left without letting her know why? He hadn’t even watched the burial from a distance when he knew how much her father had respected Dizo for putting himself through college and medical school.

“I see.” She fought to maintain her composure so Guido couldn’t take satisfaction in her devastation. Today was a national day of mourning in honor of her father. Now that Nic had become king and was pushing for her to marry him right away, this had turned out to be the blackest day of her life. “How soon do you expect him back?”

“I don’t.”

She swallowed hard. “Is someone ill?” The Fornese family had been born in Sardinia. They had extended family in Sassari. Dizo was particularly fond of his aging grandmother who lived with Guido’s brother.

Dizo visited them when he could, but between his studies at the University of Castelmare and helping his father in his spare time, there weren’t as many visits anymore.

Even so, Regina hated it whenever he had to be gone for a day or two at a time. She found herself counting the seconds until he returned.

“No. He will be getting married soon.”

That was a lie. Though Guido could have wished his eldest son had settled down with a wife years ago, it hadn’t happened. What he’d just said were the words of a wishful thinking father. If it were the truth, Dizo would have told her himself. Guido valued family over education, not wanting to admit his hardworking son could have both in time.

Choose the battle you’re sure of, Regina’s father used to tell her. This was one she would let pass. “I had no idea. Thank you for the information, Guido.”

“Prego, Principessa.” When he went back for the next bag, she realized she’d been dismissed.

As she walked away in agony, she saw Dizo’s younger brothers returning in one of the other trucks. Out of desperation she waved them down.

The vehicle slowed. Fonsi tipped his head out the window. “Princess? Is there something wrong?”

Wrong? her heart cried hysterically. Yes, something was wrong. “I came here to discuss the kind of trees I wanted planted at my father’s grave, but I just learned that Dinozzo left for Sardinia.”

Fonsi nodded.

“Your father said he’s going to be married.” They would tell her it wasn’t true.

“At the end of the summer,” Pasquale informed her from the interior of the cab. “He’s found a job there.”

Dizo had never breathed a word of it to her. He’d just passed his medical boards. She’d thought of course he planned to be a vet here in Capriccio where he could stay close to his family. She’d planned on it. Regina couldn’t live without Dizo.

She patently didn’t believe Guido. He’d made it up and his sons were in on the lie.

“Did you ask Papa for help?”

“Not yet, Fonsi,” she said out of wooden lips. “Your brother mentioned he had some ideas, so I wanted to talk to him about them first.”

“We are all very sorry about your father. Papa revered him and will be happy to plant something special,” Pasquale chimed in, but he was a little too eager for them to get off the subject of Dizo. It could only mean their father had coached them in what to say to her. He really disliked the spoiled princess of Castelmare.

Guido Fornese had always been in charge. He saw no reason for his boys to go to college when they all had a fine job on the estate. Fonsi and Pasquale, already married with children, would never usurp his authority by acting on something without his directive first. Dizo was different.

Though he showed his father respect and helped out as much as he could, he’d become a brooding, thirty-two-year-old bachelor who’d wanted more from life and had gone after it even knowing it displeased his parent. Unlike his siblings, Dizo had never lived in fear of Guido or anyone else.

Whatever had caused him to leave the country so abruptly, he’d done it of his own volition. That put the terror in her.

“I’ll talk to your father later in the week when he’s not so busy. Thank you.”

They nodded before driving on.

Regina kept walking until she couldn’t see them anymore, then she broke into a run across the extensive grounds, her pain too deep for tears. When she reached the rear of the eighteenth century palace, she entered through a private door with one of her bodyguards right behind her and raced up the steps. Her suite on the second floor of the east wing overlooked the Mediterranean. Before she shut the doors, she motioned to the closest bodyguard to come inside.

“Rico, as soon as I pack a bag I’m leaving for Nice in the limo. My family knows nothing about my plans.” She didn’t dare take the helicopter or Lucca would hear it leaving and ask questions. “If you and Vito like this job, then keep this information to yourselves, please.”

“Capisco, your highness.”

Once he was out the door she phoned her pilot. “I’m flying to Alghero, Sardinia, tonight.” It was less than an hour’s flight to the northwest part of the island. “I’ll be at the airport in forty minutes. Be ready to take off. I have no idea of my return.”

After buzzing her private secretary who would arrange for a rental car to be waiting at Fertilia airport in Sardinia, Regina threw some clothes in a bag and left the palace the same way she’d slipped in.

The thirty-five-mile drive to the Fornese farm on the outskirts of Sassari wouldn’t take long. Secretly she’d always wanted to visit there with him, but of course that had been out of the question.

Not any longer…

Though she was betrothed to someone else, Regina needed this one night of freedom to love Dizo and no one was going to stop her…

Dinozzo Romali Fornese stood at the bar with his shirtsleeves pushed up to the elbows. He knew he was getting very, very drunk. That was good. His native Vernaccia d’Oristano always did the job. The pain of imagining Gina as Nic’s bride was too staggering to contemplate.

Tonight he needed to be totally blotto if he had a prayer of getting through it. One more drink to make certain, then he tread his way carefully to the entrance of the two hundred year old tavern. “See you later, Dinozzo,” the barman called after him in their native Sassarese.

The night air was soft, but it didn’t drip with the flower-scented sweetness that surrounded the palace, grazie a dio. No reminders here. Dizo climbed in his uncle’s truck and headed through the city’s ancient streets for the farm where he’d grown up as a boy.

Instinct, not faculties, was all he required to get him there. When he flew in for short visits he always slept in the back bedroom of the stone farmhouse, but this time he hadn’t come for a visit. If he was still alive tomorrow, he would have to find work and an apartment.

The last thing he remembered was turning onto the gravel track that led around the rear of the old family home.

“Dizo?”

No. No dreams. Not tonight.

“Dizo, caro—”

That voice. No one called him that except one person. “Leave me alone, Giannina,” he muttered in agony.

“You know you don’t want me to.”

He felt her arms go around him. The curvaceous mold of her figure melted into his hard body, denying him no part of herself. That mouth he’d likened to a wild red rose began devouring him with an insatiable hunger.

“You’re right,” he cried feverishly against those seductive lips. “Dio mio. I want you so much I could bite the heart right out of your beautiful body.”

“Do it, tesoro.”

With skin like velvet and glossy black hair filled with the scent of sweet orange blossoms, he was helpless to do anything but roll her on her back and begin kissing her the way he’d done so many times in his other dreams.

This one was different.

Instead of her suddenly vanishing from sight where he couldn’t find her, she stayed right where she was and kissed him in and out of oblivion. His legs tangled with her silky limbs. After all the years of aching, she was bringing him ecstasy. He wanted it to go on forever.

“Come here to me my precious, adorable Giannina. Closer—” he cried against her tender throat.

“I love you, Dizo. I always will. That’s never going to change.”

“Don’t leave me, amore.”

“Never. Have no fear.”

Once again he was swept away by rapture she brought with every sigh and caress. “I want to feel you just like this until the very second I wake up.”

“Let’s not wake up,” she whispered against his lips.

“You think I want to?”

“Then we won’t. We’ll go on like this into infinity.”

“Into infinity?” he whispered back in a husky voice. “That’s not long enough. If you knew the years I’ve been waiting…aching,” he cried.

His mouth enveloped hers, drinking in her sweetness. He plunged his hands into her hair, loving the way the curls wrapped around his fingers. Still his dream didn’t fade.

“Hey, Dinozzo—” came a discordant note out of the soporific waves. “I want to talk to my nephew. When are you going to get up? Do you know how late it is?”

Dizo realized his fantastic dream had ended. He couldn’t bear it. The alcohol he’d consumed last night was supposed to have wiped everything from his subconscious. Instead a silken pair of arms had transported him to a place where he’d been given a taste of paradise.

On a groan he started to get out of bed, but felt something warm and soft lying next to him, preventing movement. He opened his eyes that were having trouble focusing and discovered a female body lying facedown next to him. The cap of glossy black curls looked shockingly familiar.

His jet-black eyes took in the trail of his clothes and her shoes and jacket starting at the door and ending at the bed. The sheet partially covering both of them revealed that the woman he must have picked up outside the bar last night was wearing a pale yellow and white flowered tank top. With trembling hands he carefully turned her over.

Holy mother of God.

Giannina.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

Slowly her black-fringed lids fluttered open. Those brown eyes so fabulous because of their burgundy hue stared into his.

“Dizo—” came her urgent cry. Like a cat preening in the sun with delight, she stretched without inhibition and wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt her warm, sweet breath on his lips. Then it was the dream all over again as her mouth took him to that place he’d never wanted to leave.

This time there was a loud knock on the door bringing him fully awake. “Dinozzo! I’m getting worried. If you’re not up on the count of three, I’m coming in.”

Diavolo!

None too gently Dizo pushed her against the mattress. The second he threw the sheet over her head his uncle walked in.

“Your papa has already phoned twice. He has a mes—”

That was all that came out of his uncle’s mouth. Scratching his balding head, he took in the scene of what could only be labeled wanton desire with his-and-her clothing and blankets scattered, pillows askew. Their gazes locked in silent communication.

His uncle cleared his throat. “I’ll tell your father you’ll call him later.” He closed the door.

Muttering a curse, Dizo levered his tall, well-honed body off the other side of the bed. By some miracle he was still wearing his pants. While he was still disoriented, Gina peeked out from beneath the sheet covering her head. His heart slammed into his ribs to see her beautiful face framed by her disheveled curls. One dangled in the middle of her forehead. She was a living, breathing miracle.

In a minute he would demand answers, but for the moment all his befuddled brain could do was try to digest the fact that Princess Regina Schiaparelli Vittorio of Castelmare had spent what was left of the rest of the night in bed with him. Damn if he hadn’t been so drunk after leaving the tavern, he hadn’t been able to distinguish fact from fiction or realize that the divine pleasure she’d brought him was no dream.

She started to get up, pushing the sheet completely away. As she slid her shapely legs to the floor and rose to her feet, the yellow skirt that matched her top fell to her knees. She could wear any color and look gorgeous, creating a picture of summery elegance and sophistication only she could carry off.

Everything she bought or had made to wear was exquisitely cut to play down her curves, but he wouldn’t be a man if his senses didn’t quake at the sight of her voluptuous figure.

With unsteady hands he reached in the drawer for a clean T-shirt and pulled it down over his bare chest. “Explanations can come later,” he muttered. “What I have to do right now is get you out of here before my uncle learns who you are.”

“I don’t care if he knows.”

“You don’t mean that,” his voice grated. You can’t.

She was about to be married to the king of Pedrosa. In order to get near her, let alone touch her, you had to be royalty yourself. She was off-limits. Forbidden. That had been drummed into Dizo’s brain from the moment his father had taken the gardener’s job at the palace years ago.

Before her betrothal, more than one prince Dizo knew of had been after her. His brothers had kept him up on the palace gossip. From rumors they’d learned Gina’s mother had always favored the Spanish speaking Prince Nicolas, now king since his father had stepped down.

Dizo had seen him walking on the grounds with her. Occasionally they’d gone horseback riding. Many was the time Dizo had wished Nic’s mount had thrown him and broken his arrogant Catalan neck.

Gina’s expressive eyes glinted with pain. “You mean you don’t want me to mean it. Is that because you’re getting married at the end of the summer?” She faced him with the same forthrightness that had always been her trademark. Gina was only five feet five, but there were times like now when she took on invisible stature.

A tight band constricted his breathing. “Who told you that?”

“Your father. Who else? Is it true?” Her voice shook.

He grimaced. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Then it is?” she cried. Her face suddenly lost color.

Gina… “It’s no secret you and I have always been attracted to each other, but that was all it ever could be. We both have to get on with our lives and right now it’s first things first.”

In spite of the tears glinting on those long black eyelashes, a daring smile broke the corner of her provocative mouth. “How do you propose I exit the room without your uncle seeing me?”

Dizo picked up her sandals and handed them to her. “Put these on and I’ll help you out through the window. There’s a fruit shed maybe a hundred yards from here. No one will be around at this time of day. Hide in there and wait for me till I come with the truck.”

If anyone knew she’d been here, in his bed, her reputation would be tarnished beyond all recognition. He didn’t even want to think how King Nicolas would react when he found out. Lucca would have every right to fire the entire Fornese family and shuttle them back to Sardinia. All the goodwill Dizo’s father had built up over the years with King Rudolfo and his family would be destroyed.

The media would have a field day with Gina who up until this stunning escapade hadn’t done anything to sully her name. Much to their frustration they’d never caught her in anything salacious. She’d remained as white and pure as the proverbial driven snow.

Until now…

After she’d slipped into her sandals he lifted the short-sleeved jacket to help her finish dressing. It took all his strength of will not to pull her back against him and finish what she’d started while he’d thought he was dreaming.

The untouchable twenty-six-year-old Princess Regina no longer bore that label. Her swollen lips showed signs of being kissed senseless. A faint rash from his five-o’clock shadow covered her high-boned cheeks. His touch was all over her even if he couldn’t remember details. Traces of her fragrance still clung to his skin. How in hell was he going to live with that?

She flashed him that captivating white smile. “Your uncle’s going to know how I disappeared.”

Dizo pulled the shutters back and opened the two panes that swung outward. “It won’t be the first time,” he muttered, “but as he was young once himself, he knows better than to say anything, especially with nonna in the house.”

For reasons he didn’t dare contemplate right now, it was imperative Gina leave Sardinia immediately. He picked her up none too gently and swung her through the opening, then lowered her until her feet touched the ground. When he would have let go of her hands, she held on.

“Last night you told me you desired me. Over and over again in every conceivable way,” she added with those wine dark eyes never wavering from his. “If the woman you’re supposedly going to marry is still unaware of your feelings for me, then it’s time you went to her with the truth.”

While he stood there reeling from the implication that more might have gone on than he could remember, she stole away.

His jaw set, he closed the window and put the shutters back in place. After he’d slipped on his shoes, he left the room and practically ran into his uncle who’d just come out of his grandmother’s room.

“I owe you an apology,” Dizo began in a quiet voice.

To his surprise his uncle broke into a smile. “No apology is necessary.” He patted his shoulder, seemingly more affable than usual. “Your papa has worried. You know. No women for a long time, but I phoned him just now and assured him there’s nothing wrong with his Dinozzo.”

Dio mio.

“Then you’ll understand I need your truck again for a little while?”

His head bobbed. “Si, si. I’ll explain to your nonna you have business in town but will be back soon.”

“I swear I won’t be long. Grazie, zio.”

He took off out the back door for the truck. The keys were in the ignition where he’d left them last night. Gina must have seen him drive away from the house and decided to wait for him to return. When she realized he was on the verge of passing out, she’d helped him in the house and things had gotten out of hand from there. That was the only explanation he could think of that made any sense.

“Princess?” he called to her once he’d reached the entrance to the shed. “Quick—come and get in—”

When she didn’t answer or appear, he frowned. “Princess?”

Nothing.

After climbing down from the driver’s seat, he went inside. A thorough investigation revealed no sign of her.

His mind replayed the moment he’d helped her to escape. Only now did it occur to him that after delivering her last salvo, she’d had no intention of hanging around for him. Too late he remembered she never went anywhere without her network of staff and personal bodyguards.

Now his crime had more witnesses who’d watched him lower her out his bedroom window. It was conceivable the news had already reached her brother’s ears. How long before Nic heard the worst—Dizo suddenly realized he was in the biggest trouble of his life.