Men In Uniform: Captivated By The Prince. Lynn Raye Harris

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘Are you sure there’s time for this?’ she murmured with concern as she joined him.

      ‘Why not?’ he demanded, looking at her in amusement. ‘How much of a hurry are you in, Principessa?’

      As she went after him Emily’s face was bright red, provoking delighted smiles and knowing looks from those women close enough to observe the exchange.

      If their marriage had been consummated, Emily reckoned, a little embarrassment would have been a small price to pay. But as it was it seemed particularly unjust—especially as the women were still nudging each other and winking at her.

      The news that Alessandro was to take part in the competition had spread like wildfire, and it seemed as if the entire population of the village had managed to crowd themselves into the small paved area around the café. Silence fell as he crossed the square to greet the opposing team. It was obvious that his side was at a considerable disadvantage, as most were older than their rowdy young opponents from the neighbouring village.

      ‘Do you think you can redress the balance?’ Emily asked anxiously, as she watched him strip to the waist. His naked torso was all the answer she needed, and a murmur of approval rose around them as he handed her the black top.

      ‘Take up the slack,’ the man from the café ordered, pointing to the thick rope lying on the ground.’ Principessa,’ he added, ‘when you drop the flag, the men must put their weight and their strength behind that rope. The first team to haul the others across that white line wins the Palio.’

      Emily tried to concentrate—but was there anything more delicious than seeing Alessandro put his weight and his strength behind that rope? she wondered, watching the flex of muscles on his sun-bronzed body. If there was, she could only imagine it would be Alessandro completely stripped of his clothes.

      His glance flashed across at precisely that moment, filling Emily with a very different kind of excitement from the rest of the spectators. And as she dropped the flag he gave a slight smile that seemed to promise her a contest no less involving than the one he was embarking upon.

      Emily watched the denim mould around his impressive thighs as he dug his heels into the ground, gravel spitting up either side of his feet as he heaved. Each muscle and sinew was clearly defined as he threw every bit of his strength behind the rope, working to drag the other side closer to the line.

      It was all over very suddenly. A groan from the losing side and a triumphant shout from Alessandro’s who, brandishing the rope, punched the air with their fists. Then there was a noisy round of back-slapping and congratulations, as well as good-natured banter before Alessandro came back to reclaim his top.

      ‘I’ll just take a shower, then I’ll be right with you,’ he promised, wheeling away to accompany Federico. ‘Then we’ll go,’ he called back to her over his shoulder. ‘Be ready.’

      The villagers wanted Alessandro to share in their celebrations, and were disappointed when he told them he had to leave. But, having exacted a promise from him to return the following year, they accepted his decision and fell back.

      ‘If we are to reach Monte Volere before bedtime, I must go now,’ he explained, provoking another round of nudges and tempting Emily to disillusion everyone on the spot. Her husband’s hair might have been still wet from the shower, and his top clinging damply to the water droplets around his neck—giving the impression that he was in such a hurry to get back to her he hadn’t troubled to dry himself properly—but she knew he only wanted to get to his country estate before dark.

      Beyond the narrow streets and close-clustered village houses the countryside opened into a vast, sprawling plain. As the tawny volcanic soil paled to blonde they sped on through the pale, freshly tilled earth on an arrow-straight road, until another range of hills, even higher than those they had left behind, loomed in front of them.

      ‘Not long now,’ Alessandro promised as he began to negotiate a series of tortuous hairpin bends. ‘I’m going to stop when we get to the top,’ he informed her. ‘Then you’ll see one of the most spectacular vistas in all of Ferara.’

      Emily formed a sound of appreciation in her throat. But the last thing on her mind after the events in the village was a sightseeing trip. And even if Alessandro’s suggestion of an affair between them had been his idea of a joke, she had believed this trip to his country estate signalled his intention to bring them closer—if only for the sake of appearances. Now she knew the visit was nothing more than proof he intended to keep his word and show her around. And, keen as she was to learn more about Ferara, she was keener still to learn more about her husband.

      ‘Save it,’ she muttered ungraciously.

      As Alessandro shot her a curious glance Emily regretted the outburst. He was only doing what he thought was right—what he thought she would enjoy.

      ‘No. I insist,’ he said firmly.

      She had to admit he was right about the view. As she climbed out of the car Emily felt like an eagle staring down at the lake, tiny below them, shimmering in the heat haze like a panel of jewel-encrusted silk.

      ‘It’s absolutely stunning,’ she murmured, fighting off the insane urge to move close enough to slip her arm through his.

      ‘This region of Ferara has many similarities to the fiords of Norway,’ Alessandro said. ‘Don’t stand too close to the edge,’ he warned, coming to stand between Emily and the sheer drop only a metre or so in front of her feet.

      Emily smiled, then felt unaccountably bleak when he started back to the car as if there was some other fabulous camera opportunity waiting just around the next bend for them.

      ‘You will find there is a lot of variety in Ferara,’ Alessandro remarked as he turned the car back onto what was now little more than a steep mountain track. ‘I hope you will eventually come to love it as much as I do.’

      And the point would be…? Emily thought his remark strange, bearing in mind the peculiar circumstances of their marriage. ‘Mmm,’ she managed non-committally.

      But if the view he had shown her had been the eagle’s perch, then his estate at Monte Volere was the eagle’s eyrie, she discovered as Alessandro turned in beneath a narrow stone archway. Set on the highest point of a hill cloaked with vineyards, the pink and cream stone of the old manor house glowed rose-red where shadows were painted by the failing light.

      ‘Why have you brought me here?’ she said curiously.

      Alessandro turned to stare at her, an amused expression tugging at his mouth. ‘Rest and recreation—’

      ‘No. Really,’ Emily insisted.

      ‘Really,’ Alessandro replied steadily as he drew to a halt in front of the old building. ‘I thought you needed to get away from everything…everyone…for a few days.’

      ‘To be alone?’

      But Alessandro had already climbed out of the car.

      ‘I’ll show you to your room,’ he called over his shoulder as she followed him up the steps. He opened an oak door and beckoned her inside.

      My room? Emily thought, banishing the sense of disappointment. She stared across the stone-flagged hall as Alessandro sprinted up the stairs.

      ‘Well?’ he said, leaning over the carved wooden banister. СКАЧАТЬ