Playboy's Lesson Read online

  She turned swiftly to continue walking along the pathway. ‘I’m not going to answer that.’

  ‘You just did.’

  Lottie tried to ignore him walking beside her but her body wouldn’t allow it. Her arm tingled every time his shirtsleeve brushed against her and her heart would go off on another excited gallop. His tall warm presence so close to her made her aware of her body in a way she had never been before. She was livid with herself for being so easily unravelled by the first man who had showed an interest in her in years.

  Gullible fool!

  She had always prided herself on her cool inner reserve. She wasn’t called the Ice Princess for nothing. She had taught herself not to wear her emotions on the surface, to let no one see what she was feeling, even though at times it made her appear much more formidable and starchy than she really was.

  But something about this incorrigible rake made every nerve in her body come vibrantly alive. Every feeling she had locked so tightly away kept tapping on the door of its prison to be released.

  Desire—a thing she had forgotten she even had the capacity to feel—was elbowing the other emotions out of the way, hammering with both fists, a hammering so hard it reverberated through her body, echoing the loudest in the secret cave of her femininity. She could feel it now—the slow ache of need beating with a primal pulse she could not ignore even if she tried.

  She sent him a haughty look that belied the sensual tumult that was going on in her body. ‘I don’t mind you calling me Lottie in private but please desist in calling me those ridiculous endearments. I have no time for such falsity.’

  He threw his head back and laughed his deep melodious laugh. ‘You are such a cutie pie. I feel like I’ve time travelled or something. It’s like spending time with a character out of a Jane Austen novel. Did you go to Prim and Proper School or something to learn to talk like that?’

  She gave him a gimlet glare. ‘Must you be so...so annoying?’

  ‘All part of the service, milady.’ He swept her a Regency bow before returning his glinting gaze to hers.

  Lottie felt a reluctant smile twitch at her mouth. ‘You are quite possibly the most immature and shallowest man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. Do you take anything in life seriously?’

  He leapt up and gave a victory punch to the air. ‘Yes! I did it! I made the prickly little princess smile.’ He turned towards the palace, cupping his hands around his mouth as if to make an important announcement. ‘Hey, everybody—’

  ‘Stop it!’ Lottie grabbed at his wrists but somehow he ended up wrapping his fingers around hers. She glanced down at the dark tan of his fingers overlapping one another around her wrists and her insides shifted like books being toppled off a shelf. Heat seared through every layer of her skin like a red-hot brand, igniting those glowing embers deep in her core.

  His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly, as if he was countering any attempt on her part to escape the gentle handcuffing of his fingers. She drew in a scratchy breath as he closed the gap between their bodies without even seeming to take a step.

  His eyes were heavily lidded, sleepy and unbelievably sexy. Bedroom eyes. I-want-to-have-sex-with-you eyes. His mouth came down and, with a whisper-soft press, briefly touched hers. It left her lips aching and tingling for more but he didn’t prolong the contact.

  He pulled back and smiled down at her, his eyes dancing with devilry. ‘If I let go of your hands, are you going to slap me?’

  Her chin went up again. ‘Why don’t you try it and see?’

  His gaze went back to her mouth. ‘If I’m going to get slapped, then I might as well make sure it’s worth it, don’t you think?’

  If he wanted an answer he didn’t give her time to give one. Instead he swooped down and covered her mouth in a kiss that tasted of hot-blooded man and primal want with a generous garnish of ruthlessness.

  The brazen thrust of his tongue as he entered her mouth made her heart rate skyrocket. But while that first thrust had been bold, he followed it up with cajoling sweeps and subtle dives that made her skin tighten and then pull away from her bones as it rose up in goose bumps.

  He explored her mouth as if it were a dish he had never tried before and wanted to savour every moment of the experience. He took a gentle nip of her lower lip, pulling at it with his teeth in a playful tug that melted her resolve like a knob of butter on a barbecue. He stroked his tongue over her top lip, intricately tracing its curve, before entering her mouth again with a spine-tingling stab of purely sexual intent.

  Her body was pressed so firmly against his she could feel every powerful throb of his erection against her belly. It seemed to resonate in perfect time with that pulsing ache in her womb. Her senses weren’t just reeling; they were spinning out of control. Desire was a blazing fire inside her flesh, racing through the network of her veins, firing up every nerve and cell with combustible force. Her breasts felt acutely sensitive where they were crushed against the hard wall of his chest, her nipples tightly budded in response to her arousal. Her inner core was already damp and humid with want. She could feel the warm satin silkiness of it when she moved her body against the deliciously tempting friction of his.

  His hands left her wrists and splayed through her hair, which somehow was now tousled about her shoulders instead of restrained behind her head. He captured a thick handful of it as he deepened the kiss. There was something almost primitive about his hold, like an alpha male ruthlessly taking control of the mate he had selected for his pleasure. It unleashed something equally primal in her. She nipped at his lower lip with kittenish bites, sweeping her tongue over it each time she released it.

  He groaned deep in his throat and his hand tightened in her hair almost to the point of pain. He took control of her mouth by covering it again with his, crushing her lips beneath the hot firm pressure of his. His tongue mated with hers in a sexy coupling that made her stomach drop like a desk drawer pulled out too quickly.

  Her hands were around his neck, her fingers delving into the thick pelt of his hair, her mouth held captive by the mesmerising magic of his. I want this. I want you. I want to be wanted. It was like a silent mantra inside her head in perfect time with every thudding heartbeat that was sending her blood through her veins at a dizzying speed.

  He suddenly pulled back and glinted at her with those sinfully dark eyes. ‘Let’s find a room. Your palace or mine?’

  Lottie was jolted out of the sensual spell he had woven around her like a fist thrusting through a cobweb. What was she doing? Where was her poise and self-control? One kiss and she was his for the asking?

  Not going to happen.

  Did he really think she was going to dive headfirst into his bed just like every other woman he made a play for, only to have him dismiss her like a toy that no longer held its initial appeal? He looked so assured, so supremely confident. Arrogant. She would be just another notch on his bedpost; no doubt her royal status would be of particular appeal to such a shallow celebrity trophy hunter. She had learned that lesson before—the hard way.

  She wasn’t naive enough to fall for it again.

  Not any more.

  But rather than give him the satisfaction to know he had got so far under her skin she decided to go along with it...to a point. It would be fun to have the last laugh, to score a few points against him.

  Lottie put on a worldly look, even managing a coquettish smile. ‘Your place. Shall we say in half an hour?’

  ‘Make it an hour.’ His dark eyes glinted again. ‘I want to slip into something more comfortable.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LOTTIE WAS CONGRATULATING herself as she walked on the main beach an hour later. She could picture Lucca Chatsfield in his penthouse with a bottle of the finest French champagne in an ice bucket, the sheets on his king-size bed laid back in preparation, maybe even some rose peta
ls scattered there. Some in-house scented candles burning on the bedside table with their scent of bergamot and sandalwood. His lean and toned body draped in a Chatsfield blue silk bathrobe with its gold embroidered C on the right breast, while he waited for her to knock on the door to attend one of his legendary scenes of seduction.

  She smiled as she thought of the minutes and then the hours ticking by. His frustration building, his sense of humour souring.

  One up to you, my girl.

  She walked the full length of the beach, losing herself in the crowds of bathers and sunbakers who didn’t recognise her in her tracksuit and T-shirt and trainers with her hair stuffed underneath a baseball cap. She looked just like any other sporty girl out for a brisk walk along the seashore. She could have gone to one of the more private beaches on the island but she liked being amongst the people, pretending she was normal, getting a feel for how different her life would have been if she had been born a commoner. No pressure to look perfect. No one commenting on her expression or outfit. No one befriending her just because she was royal and not because of who she was inside.

  Lottie was walking past the bar area at the main tourist area when she caught sight of a lean and toned male body stretched lazily out on one of the sun lounges. The glisten of sun lotion on his skin made his body look like that of a bronzed god who had just stepped off a plinth at the National Art Gallery. His abdominal muscles were like tightly rolled bands of steel, his long muscled legs with their covering of coarse hair were splayed, showing the proud heft of his masculinity beneath close-fitting black Lycra bathers. There was a colourful drink on a table by his side with one of those little paper umbrellas in it, and on the other side of him was a blonde bikini-clad girl with a tray of nibbles bending down to him with a come-and-get-me smile and a cleavage you could park a pushbike in.

  Lottie blinked a couple of times. It couldn’t be. He was back in his room waiting for her to show up. She was teaching him a much-needed lesson. She was giving him a massive blow to his arrogant confidence. She was—

  She frowned and peered a little more intently. Maybe it was his twin. They were identical so maybe Orsino Chatsfield had come to Preitalle and was sunning himself on the beach with blonde busty beauties waiting on him hand and foot. But then he reached for his phone as the girls screeched with excitement at the prospect of a ‘group photo.’

  She ground her teeth to talcum powder.

  It wasn’t his twin.

  As if Lucca had sensed her looking at him he turned his dark head and smiled that gleamingly white smile. He even had the audacity to lift up his hand and give her a friendly come-and-join-me wave.

  Maybe he didn’t recognise her, Lottie thought as she spun around and strode back the way she had come. Maybe he thought she was just another girl he could reel into his harem with the crook of his little finger. No one else had recognised her in this casual get-up. Why should he?

  Her feet pounded the sand, faster and faster until she wasn’t walking any more but running, her breath tearing at her throat like fingernails.

  She stopped at the lighthouse to check to see if he had followed her but there was no sign of him.

  He was probably getting that stunning blonde to peel his grapes for him, while taking pictures of her doing so, which would no doubt end up on his Twitter feed.

  Argh!

  * * *

  ‘What have you got planned for my bachelorette party?’ Madeleine asked at breakfast the following morning.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got it in hand.’

  ‘Have you consulted Lucca about it? I’m sure he’ll have some fun suggestions to make it an event to remember.’

  Lottie scowled at her sister. ‘It’s my job as maid of honour to organise your hen party. I don’t need the input from some unscrupulous playboy whose idea of entertainment would no doubt include a male stripper jumping out of a cake or something.’

  ‘Sounds like fun.’ Madeleine grinned as she reached for the orange juice jug.

  ‘You can’t be serious!’ Lottie put down her cup of tea with a clatter against the saucer.

  Her sister took the seat opposite and cradled her glass of juice in both of her perfectly manicured hands. ‘You’re always so serious about everything, Lottie. What harm would there be in having a little fun for a change?’

  ‘So...are you saying you want male strippers?’

  ‘No, I guess we can’t go that far, but neither do I want a sedate tea party with boring old cucumber sandwiches and scones. I want to have fun. I want it to be truly memorable. I’m not going to get married again so this is my last chance to kick my heels up as a single girl.’

  Lottie chewed at the left side of her lower lip. She had a brunch party planned...strictly speaking she couldn’t even call it a party. She hadn’t planned on copious amounts of alcohol. She wasn’t sure if she could cope with a bunch of out-of-control girlfriends of her sister’s running amok so she’d kept things...well, sedate.

  Madeleine reached for a fat buttery croissant and then pulled her hand back and sighed. ‘How do you keep your figure so trim? I’ve put on five pounds since I got engaged. At this rate I’m going to need a shoehorn to get into my wedding dress.’

  ‘At least you’ve got boobs,’ Lottie said with a despairing look at her own flat chest.

  ‘You just need a decent push-up bra. Speaking of lingerie...would you be a honey and choose my wedding night finery for me?’

  Lottie frowned. ‘Why would you want me to do that for you? Isn’t that something you should be doing?’

  Her sister smiled a twinkling smile. ‘I thought it would be good for you to do it. With help, of course.’

  Help?

  Help!

  Lottie’s gaze went to paper-thin slits. ‘Whose help?’

  Madeleine reached out again and this time took the croissant from the basket and tore it into bite-size pieces. ‘I’ve asked Lucca to help you. He wants to go to Monte Carlo on Wednesday on some private errand of his. I didn’t ask him the details. I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it. He’s a bit of a dark horse, don’t you think?’ She didn’t wait for a reply but continued. ‘I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to go with him. You haven’t been off the island in ages and with him as an escort you won’t have to bother with having your own security guard.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with him!’

  Madeleine finished chewing her mouthful of croissant before asking, ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘How can you ask that? I hate him! He’s a disreputable rake.’

  ‘What? Are you frightened he might make a move on you or something?’ She picked up another morsel of croissant and popped it into her mouth and chewed. Swallowed. ‘You should be so lucky.’

  Lottie pushed her chin up in a gesture of female pride. ‘As it happens he did make a move on me.’

  Madeleine’s eyes rounded with interest. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘He kissed me.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He propositioned me.’

  Madeleine dropped the piece of croissant she was holding, her eyes as big as the plate she was using. ‘What did you do?’

  Lottie gave a little toss of her head. ‘I arranged to meet him and then I stood him up.’

  Her sister sat back in her chair with a musing smile. ‘Well, well, well.’

  ‘Don’t get any funny ideas. He’s the last man on earth I’d ever consider having a fling with. He’s got no morals. He’s a man slut, that’s what he is. He doesn’t stay with women long enough to remember their names. You should have seen the girl he had waiting on him down on the beach. She was fawning all over him as if he was some sort of sex god. It was nauseating.’

  ‘Listen to you.’ Madeleine laughed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with having a little fling if someone takes your fan
cy. It’s about time you put yourself out there again. Lucca Chatsfield would be quite a fabulous scalp to hang on your belt. I bet there are things he could show you in the bedroom that would make your hair stand up on end.’

  Lottie glowered. ‘That man is nothing but a thorough nuisance. I can’t think why you agreed to such a harebrained scheme to bring him here to meddle with my plans. He’s going to ruin everything, I just know it.’

  Madeleine gave her a teasing smile as she reached for another croissant. ‘I think you like him.’

  Lottie sprang up from the table. ‘I hate him! I detest him! I swear to God if he was here now I would say it to his face.’

  ‘Save it, ma chérie.’ Madeleine wiped her fingers on a starched napkin. ‘You can tell him at dinner.’

  ‘Dinner?’ Her heart gave a sudden lurch. ‘Don’t tell him me you’ve invited him to dine with us. That’s taking things way too far.’

  ‘Not with us.’ Madeleine said. ‘You and him. Alone.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You can consult him about the hens’ night. I’ve planned a private dinner for you both in the Green Room.’

  Lottie gaped at her sister. ‘Why are you doing this? Have you gone completely mad?’

  ‘He’s fun loving and dashing.’

  ‘He’s an outrageous flirt and an arrogant devil!’

  ‘I know.’ Madeleine smiled again. ‘Don’t you just love that about him?’

  * * *

  A palace official led Lucca to a private room in the west wing of the palace. It was decorated in various shades of green with a background of cream with trimmings of gold. A small antique dining table had been set up in front of the large bay of windows that overlooked the palace gardens, and a bowl of full-headed creamy roses was on a brass-inlaid cabinet nearby, their peppery, clove-like scent filling the room. There were two deeply cushioned sofas facing each other in the middle of the room in a cream brocade fabric with an array of scatter cushions. A cherry-wood glass-fronted bookcase was against one wall with a small writing desk and chair set in front of it with a quaint lamp that was casting an incandescent glow over the room. It was a comfortable room rather than a formal one. It reminded him of a sitting room/library in a stately manor in the English countryside, not unlike his family home, Chatsfield House, in Buckinghamshire.