The Royal Marriage Arrangement

“I’ll deal with it.” As he left the room with Carlo, he nodded to his other bodyguard standing outside the door. The three of them walked down the hall to Defore’s office.

“Wait for me and don’t let anyone else in,” he told them both before opening the door. Once inside, he told the wide-eyed secretary she could take a long lunch, then he entered Defore’s office.

The jeweler took one look at Lucca and was so shocked to see him rather than one of the security guards, he was struck dumb. Lucca had never had reason to interfere with Defore while he was working with a client, but then, he’d never been this intrigued before.

“I’ll take over,” he murmured, freeing a worried-looking Defore so he could leave. Lucca gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, warning the jeweler not to give him away.

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

Lucca shut the door behind him before turning to face the flushed woman whose tall, willowy figure hadn’t been noticeable from watching the screen. “Signorina Grigory?” He extended his hand.

After a slight hesitation she held on in a firm grip before releasing it. “I’m embarrassed Mr. Defore had to call in security, but all I wanted was to speak to Mr. Hudson for a minute,” sounded a tearful voice she didn’t try to hide.

He in turn didn’t bother to correct her faulty assumption that he was part of the security team. In fact, he was glad of it, since it didn’t happen very often that he wasn’t recognized. The photos and lies perpetuated in the tabloids about Castelmare’s playboy prince made anonymity virtually impossible no matter the continent where he traveled to do business for the crown.

Right now he was fascinated by her slightly windblown, dark blond hair and her lack of self-awareness. To his surprise there was nothing fake about her. Somehow he hadn’t expected Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter to be her total opposite in every way.

She was dressed in a draped, smoky-blue blouse tucked into pleated beige pants, putting him in mind of a 1940s style. Only a woman of grace with long elegant legs, soft curves and square shoulders could get away with it.

This close he could see shadows beneath her pewter-gray eyes with their sweeping dark lashes. Lines caused by suffering bracketed her wide, voluptuous mouth, one of the few physical traits she’d inherited from her infamous mother.

The other familiar trait was less definable. She had a certain breathlessness bequeathed to her by her mother who’d exhibited that same quality on the screen. In person it created an air of urgency Lucca found exceptionally distracting.

“You said this was a matter of life and death?”

She tossed her head back nervously. “Yes,” she blurted, “b-but I didn’t realize our whole conversation had been captured on camera,” she stammered. “Evidently you heard every word of it.”

He shrugged. “A necessary precaution in this business.” She eventually nodded. “Why don’t we both sit down.”

“Thank you.” She returned to the chair opposite the desk. “I didn’t mean to take you away from your duties when you have the responsibility of helping keep an eye on the Ligurian diamond display.”

Lucca hadn’t expected her to be this polite. Now that she was in control he found her low, husky voice incredibly attractive.

“It’s under heavy guard. I’m not worried.” He noticed she was still torturing the bracelet in her hand. “May I see it, please? Everyone hired by the House of Savoy is trained to recognize a mined diamond from a fake.” Which was true.

As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed. Strange that he would be so aware of her he could still feel the sensation while he examined the stones beneath the loupe.

After a moment he said, “I’m afraid Mr. Defore was right. This bracelet is pure imitation. Dare I say not even a good one?”

The second he saw her face lose color, he moved to the corner of the room where he switched off the camera and the audio so they would have complete privacy.

“But my fath—”

“Your father did purchase a bracelet exactly like this years ago. I checked the records. It was valued at $500,000.00 back then and would probably be worth several million today.”

Her expressive face crumpled. Alex knew that her mother had always kept certain secrets from her daughter. Yet this one had been quite a secret, since the whole collection would have brought her a nice sum of money if the stones had been genuine diamonds.

“I’m sorry, signorina.” After the sensational headlines built up in the tabloids concerning her mother’s lifestyle, he suspected the star hadn’t been in control of her spending and had been forced to sell off her diamonds upon running into dire straits. It was a story that came out of Hollywood and circulated throughout Europe all too often.

He heard a despairing cry before a shadow crossed over her features. Then she buried her face in her hands. The sound of it found its way to his gut.

“Do you know if her jewelry was ever insured?”

A minute passed. Eventually she regained her composure and lifted her head. Her creamy complexion had gone splotchy again. “If it was, her attorney didn’t know about it.”

“I realize this news has come as a blow.”

“A blow?” Her cry resonated in the room. “You have no idea—I must find a way to pay off her debts. I’d planned on this money. It was my last resort,” her voice throbbed.

“Do you have a husband who would help out?”

“No.” She looked away. “After my mother’s track record, I have no interest in marriage,” came the bitter response.

“I see.” One could hardly blame her. “What about a lover?”

Her hands gripped the arms of the chair in what looked like a death grip. “Even if I did have one and he had the funds, I would never ask that of him.”

Unaccountably moved by her vehement declaration he said, “Do you have any siblings?”

Her eyes closed for a second. “No. I’m her only child.”

An only child so well hidden Lucca hadn’t known of it. “Did she leave the diamonds to you in her will?” If Signorina Grigory had relied on this jewelry as her only hope of money after her mother’s death, it would explain her shock.

“No,” came the wooden reply. “She didn’t make a will.”

Lucca rubbed the back of his neck absently. Kathryn Carlisle with all her doomed marriages to wealthy men hadn’t had the foresight to provide for her daughter? He wasn’t able to comprehend it. “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated, staring at him through dull eyes. “That’s like asking why she didn’t abort when she found out she was pregnant with me. I came into her world unplanned and unwanted. She never publicly acknowledged me. Most of the time she forgot I was alive. It’s all right. I learned life’s lessons early, but I must admit I’m devastated about this.”

She held up the bracelet he’d given back to her. “The money from her diamonds was supposed to pay what was left owing to salvage her reputation. I wanted the slate wiped clean so the creditors would go away once and for all. It’s bad enough having to live with the terrible things people say about her, however true.

“I guess I hoped that if her bills got paid, it would be the one thing the world couldn’t castigate her for. Her agent has every right to be paid what’s owing him. I’m sick about it, that’s all.”

He inhaled heavily. “How much did she leave owing?”

“Twelve million dollars.”

Not exactly small change. “What about your father? I realize they’ve been divorced for a long time, but would he consider covering part of it, if only for your sake?” The Grigory family would still have hidden resources.

“No,” she answered without hesitation.

“Does he know about your situation?”

One graceful eyebrow lifted sardonically. “If he does, it’s too late. He died before I was a year old. In fact, three of her husbands are dead. I have no idea what’s happened to the other three.”

Hearing the bald facts about the six-times-divorced actress made him wish he hadn’t brought up the subject.

“Have you no extended family? Grandparents on your mother’s side perhaps?” Lucca’s world was filled with both.

“No. Mother was an orphan.”

He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. “Is there no property left to sell?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her expressive eyes. “None. Except for the footage of her films, which I don’t own, there’s nothing left to prove she ever inhabited this world. The police lieutenant who investigated her death still hasn’t ruled out suicide.

“No matter how estranged my mother and I were from day one, I didn’t want to believe she was capable of taking her own life.” After a silence she whispered, “Now I’m certain she did.”

The break in her voice found a spot in Lucca’s psyche that haunted him.

In the next instant she put the bracelet inside the jewelry case and shut it. “Will you please ask Mr. Defore to dispose of this and everything in it? I don’t want to see it again and know I can rely on him for his discretion.”

Before he could countenance it, she shoved it toward him. “Thank you for being so decent about this. You could’ve had me arrested. Please tell Mr. Defore I’m sorry for having a breakdown in front of him. He was very civilized and should be given a raise for his composure.”

“I’ll convey the message.”

“I appreciate it. Though I hate to admit it, the dark side of the Carlisle in me comes out from time to time. The truth is, for good or evil I am part Carlisle. No matter how much I’d like to, I can’t run away from my destiny.”

Her words shook Lucca to the foundations. He felt like someone had just walked over his grave.

Tears dripped down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to be aware of it. “Do you know I’ve been sitting here calculating how long it will take me to pay back her debt so that I can restore some good to the Carlisle name?” She made a little sound of despair. “I don’t know what the House of Savoy pays its security guards, but if I can eke out $500.00 a month—which is all I can afford on my present salary, it will only take me 2,000 years to wipe out the debt.”

Her pain-filled laugh bordered on hysteria, but considering her fierce disappointment, he could well understand the display of raw emotion.

She jumped up from the chair and closed her overnight bag. “I’m the world’s biggest fool not to know these jewels were as fake as the life she led. Forgive me for venting in front of you like this—I’ve probably said too much already.” Before he could countenance it, her regal-like strides had taken her halfway across the room, leaving a trail of peach scent behind.

“Come back and sit down, Signorina Grigory. I’m not through with you.” He knew his voice had sounded peremptory just now, but it was an acquired trait he couldn’t seem to help any more than he could stop breathing.

She whirled around white-faced. “So, you are going to have me charged with unruly conduct. My mistake.”

Lucca stared at her for a long moment. “Nothing could be further from the truth,” his voice grated. The sadness she’d encountered in her life made him want to shield her from any more. “You haven’t done anything wrong. What I would like to do is talk to you further about your situation.”

Even from the distance separating them he could see her body tauten. “Why? It’s no one else’s business but mine. If you were hoping for an autographed photo of my mother, I’m afraid I don’t have one and never did.”

How tragic her first assumption was all tangled up with Kathryn Carlisle’s effect on men. He got to his feet. “What I have on my mind has nothing to do with your mother. Since I was willing to listen to you, I would hope you would grant me the same courtesy.”

There was a fight going on inside of her. He’d appealed to her sense of fair play while he waited for her capitulation. “I have a solution to your problem,” he said to add weight.

She let out an incredulous laugh. “You have a solution. Does that mean you can arrange for me to win the lottery?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he came back. His response managed to erase the mocking expression from her features. “However, I’d prefer it if we were seated to discuss it. Shall we start over again?”

Caught on the horns of a dilemma, she didn’t advance or retreat. She needed help. He intended to give it to her.

“Before we go any further, let me introduce myself. My name is Lucca Umberto Schiaparelli Vittorio V.”

CHAPTER TWO

ALEX studied the black-haired male who’d been interrogating her all this time. The second he’d walked in to Mr. Defore’s office wearing a light gray, hand-tailored silk suit that molded his powerful frame to perfection, he’d no more looked, talked or acted like a security guard than fly!

He was too well bred, too sophisticated. His faintly accented English had polish. Combined with his aristocratic bearing, she hadn’t been able to put him in any kind of a slot. There was much more to him than the fact that he was a tall, darkly handsome, olive-skinned Italian—in truth, the most attractive man she’d ever met in her life.

Now that she knew who he was, she realized she’d seen pictures of him flashed across the screen. She’d never paid much attention for the very fact that her mother had always gone for the larger-than-life types, just like Lucca. Anyone the media had hyped Alex chose to ignore.

In the flesh, the crown prince of Castelmare defied the normal adjectives one would apply to a good-looking man. There weren’t enough in the English language to do justice to his charisma.

With the Ligurian diamond on display, it was no coincidence he was here in New York. Undoubtedly he’d brought the famous stone to the States via the monarchy’s private plane.

This was her unlucky day. No man or woman had ever seen her this vulnerable before.

“You lied to me,” she accused him hotly.

“If you mean I didn’t correct your assumption that I was a security guard, then I have to plead guilty.”

“Does the royal Riviera playboy make it a regular practice to impersonate the hired help?” His dark eyes with their jet-black lashes suddenly took on a strange glitter that lent heat to her growing anger. “Or was it on a whim you decided to amuse yourself by toying with Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter while she poured out her guts? Either way, congratulations. You’ve made my humiliation doubly complete.”

Burning with rage, she turned on her heel and fled to the next room, but she was stopped at the outer door by an unsmiling, robust, Italian secret-service type planted there.

Naturally the prince wouldn’t make a move without all his bets being covered. She shut the door in the bodyguard’s face and wheeled around. Her nemesis lounged against the doorjamb of Mr. Defore’s office with his strong arms folded, insolently at ease.

More infuriated than ever, she said, “Am I to assume you’re the lottery, as long as I provide certain services? Would it give you some kind of perverted rush to claim you slept with Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter?” An angry laugh escaped as she shook her head. “You must be hard up for new thrills to consider handing over twelve million dollars to me, but unlike my mother, my body’s not for sale at any price!”

Undaunted he said, “I’m glad to hear it. Lovely as your body is, I’m not asking for it. However, I am in need of something else you could give me that would solve the most serious problem of my life…and yours. Come back in and sit down while we talk about it. This could take a while.”

“I can’t imagine being able to offer anything that would solve your problem…whatever it is.”

“You’d be surprised,” came the cryptic comment. “Give me half an hour of your time.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have to be at the airport later today and don’t have time to spare.”

He gazed at her intently. “Not even if the result of our meeting might mean clearing your mother’s debts once and for all? When I heard you cry out earlier that this was a matter of life and death, it sounded like you meant it.”

Alex studied him without averting her eyes. “I did.”

She heard his deep intake of breath. “What if I told you I have a situation that’s a matter of life and death for me, too. Would that make a difference to you?”

What was she supposed to say to such a question? Something in his tone led her to believe he might be telling the truth. Incredible how he’d turned things around so she felt guilty if she didn’t at least listen to what he had to say.

“I’ll give you five minutes.”

“Thank you. Come back inside the other room.”

Against her better judgment she did his bidding and retraced her steps. As she sat down, he spoke in Italian to someone on the phone before he took his place across from her. Then he typed something on the computer and printed it out.

Handing it to her, he said, “Your mother was married to royalty, did you know that?”

“Mother was married to four men with supposed titles, but in time those claims turned out to be false. Everything about her life was a sham.”

He eyed her narrowly. “Except that your father was the real thing.”

“You mean, a Las Vegas racketeer.”

“Rumors have a lot to answer for, particularly when they’re founded in jealousy and greed. Read what’s on the paper. You should find the information of the greatest interest.”

Alex looked down:

After the October Revolution of 1917 all classes of the Russian nobility were legally abolished. Many members of the Russian nobility who fled Russia after the Bolshevik Revolution played a significant role in the white emigré communities that settled in Europe, in North America and in other parts of the world.

In the 1920s and 1930s, several Russian nobility associations were established outside Russia, including groups in France, Belgium and the United States. By 1938, the Russian Nobility Association in New York was founded. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, there has been a growing interest among Russians in the role the Russian nobility played in their historical and cultural development.

Membership is exclusively reserved to persons who are listed in the nobility archives. Those titled members are recorded below with their former titles, genealogies and photos available.

Alex scanned the list until her gaze fell on the name Grigory. She gasped softly when she saw the last name on the Grigory royal family tree. It read “Prince Oleg Rostokof Grigory, son of Prince Nicholas Grigory and Princess Vladmila Rostokof, born in New York, 1958, now living in Las Vegas, Nevada.”

Her heart clapped like thunder as she looked at a picture of her handsome, dark blond father, who couldn’t be more than eighteen in this picture. The strong physical resemblance between daughter and father at that age was uncanny.

As her head flew back, a security guard entered and brought them two sodas. After he left, the prince pushed one toward her and took a lengthy swallow from the other. When he put it down again, he said, “Where did you get the idea that your father was part of the underworld?”

“One of my nannies mentioned that she’d heard my father was involved with the Russian mafia. As I grew older and realized what that meant, I was ashamed and frightened by the possibility. I hid away in case one of them tried to find me and hurt me. My repulsion over my mother’s ghastly lack of judgment in marrying him was so severe I didn’t want to know anything more about him.

“By the time she’d gone through her sixth divorce, so many preposterous tales were circulating about her and her past husbands, I couldn’t handle it and tried to shut it out. To my horror the police came to my work and told me she’d died of what looked like too much alcohol mixed with drugs. At that point it was too late to ever ask her what the truth was. I’m not sure she would have told me anyway.” Her voice shook.

He finished the rest of his soda. “You’ve been through a great deal of pain in your life. Nothing can wipe that away, but the sooner her bills are paid, the sooner you can start to concentrate on other things.”

A fresh spurt of anger filled her system. She looked back at her father’s picture. “Are you saying I should do something as crass and ignoble as turn to my father’s family for the money? Is that what you’re suggesting? A modern-day Anastasia story with an ugly twist?” she said. Her shrill voice reverberated in the room’s confines.

“Not at all,” came his bland reply, exasperating her even more. “But it might be of some comfort to you to get acquainted with the extended family you’ve never met or known. Your grandparents are no longer alive, but your great-uncle Yuri Grigory, is still living and has an apartment here in New York. I met him a year ago at an embassy function. I can arrange for you two to get acquainted.”

Alex was so stunned by what he’d just told her she didn’t know what to say. Realizing she needed to get hold of herself, she drank half of her soda without taking a breath.

The news about her father’s lineage had come as a total shock. Mafia or not, it appeared he did descend from a royal background, otherwise the crown prince of Castelmare wouldn’t have been able to produce the evidence she held in her hand.

Puzzled and confused by this whole experience, she eyed him warily. “If you hoped this information would help give me a sense of identity, I…I appreciate it.” Her voice faltered. “However, I still fail to understand where this conversation is headed. What does any of this have to do with you?”

He sat forward, impaling her with his midnight-brown eyes. She’d thought at first they were black. “My life has been the opposite of yours. I was raised in a happy home with loving parents, a loving sister, a large extended family on all sides and good friends. Everything has been ideal except for one glaring obstacle that has driven a wedge between my father and me.”

“You mean, he wants you to give up your wicked, worldly bachelor ways and marry the princess he’s had picked out for you from birth.”

After a pause, “I can see you’ve heard this story before.”

“One of my nannies read Cinderella to me. I didn’t like it.”

He cocked his dark head. “Why not?”

“When Cinderella’s mother died, she had to be raised by a cruel stepmother. I thought it was an awful story, probably because I felt like my mother had died. In fact, it was much worse because I knew she was alive, but she never wanted to be with me.”

The glimmer of compassion in his eyes forced her to look away. Once more she was embarrassed to have been caught baring her soul to this man who was a perfect stranger to her. The prince of Castelmare no less. “I always hated fairy tales after that.”

“Then you and I have something in common,” he muttered in his deep-toned voice. “When my mother read Cinderella to my sister and me, I hated it, too, because I wasn’t a normal little boy who could grow up to do what I wanted. I was a prince, and my father was the king. Because I loved him, I knew that one day I’d have to do what he wanted and marry a princess who was ugly and mean and whom I’d despise.”

Once the words sank in, Alex burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. What had started out as a strange, surreal conversation between the two of them had taken on something that went beneath the surface and resonated.

After her amusement faded there was an awkward silence before she said, “I’ve seen some of the princesses you’ve been with in the news and know for a fact they’re beautiful. Whether they’re mean or not, I have no idea, but none of the photos would convince me you despised them. Far from it,” she added pointedly.

He sat back in the swivel chair. “You’re right, of course. Several of my parents’ royal favorites are charming, lovely and I think genuinely kind. However, I have a little problem because I’ve never been attracted to them.”

“Just to the nonroyals.”

For a moment a bleakness entered his eyes tugging at her emotions, then it vanished as if it had never been. “What was it your George Washington said? I cannot tell a lie.” The prince had too much charm for his own good. “Have you ever had that problem with a man?” he asked, studying her features rather intently. “He has all the right qualities, but he doesn’t speak to your soul?”