The Prodigal Prince's Seduction / The Heir's Scandalous Affair: The Prodigal Prince's Seduction

“That you were onto something great when you approached me without revealing your identity and purpose. The labels might have interfered with our impact on each other. I don’t think your name or your business will shed any light on who you really are. I want to know you. What you are, what makes you tick, what shaped you, what you want and why and how you want it. I want to revel in what we have blazing between us, to enjoy us, man to woman. For tonight.”

Another breaker of reaction shuddered through her. “Are you for real, or am I dreaming you up?”

The heat of his smile became almost unbearable. “I take it you agree to participate in my experiment.”

She shook her head. “That experiment is skewed and the results are bound to be unreliable. I know exactly who you are.”

“You only think you do. But what do you know? My statistics? My reputation, status and estimated fortune? Sterile facts mixed with conjectures and financial data. Did knowing any of the above prepare you for the effect I have on you in the flesh?”

She raised her hands begging for respite. “Okay. I admit the ‘labels’ conjured up a man who, while impressive, has nothing to do with the flesh-and-blood reality of you. In fact, I’m having a tough time connecting you at all to that man.”

“You see? If you can’t access your preconceived ideas about me, we’re on a level playing field. Say yes, bellissima.”

“Now I know why you’ve soared so high. You’re relentless.”

“That’s your expert opinion as a fellow unstoppable force?”

“Hah, I wish. Or again, not really. Okay. On one condition.”

“Anything.”

She exhaled a tremulous chuckle. “Not very businessman-like of you, all these carte-blanche concessions.”

“I’m not a businessman now. I’m just a man who knows you’re the woman to whom only carte-blanche concessions will do justice.”

“God, stop with the impossible-to-live-up-to stuff.”

“You’ve already lived up to all of it by making me feel this way, think this way. So, what’s your condition?”

“That you give me back my check.”

He didn’t hesitate, not in expression, not in action. He produced her check as the words left her lips. Delight fizzed in her blood. He hadn’t paused to ponder her intention, trusted that whatever it was, there was nothing underhanded about it.

Her hand trembled as she extended his back to him. “Here’s yours. Now I don’t owe you untold millions.”

He didn’t reach for it. “Keep it, bellissima. You wouldn’t owe me a cent. That’s for the causes of your choice.”

“Oh, I would owe you. I wanted to make a donation through you, while gaining something for myself. But if I take your check, I would be ‘donating’ your money. So, you donate what you wish and I’ll do the same and let’s take money out of the equation, start this on a real equal footing.”

He took the check. “I’ll just keep it until you wish to donate something you can’t afford. Now, shall we?”

Her heart began to race her. “Shall we…what exactly?”

“Spend the rest of the evening together. As for the night…I won’t push for anything you can’t wait to…donate.”

Three

Durante leaned back against the railing of his yacht, almost tasting the beauty of his bellissima an arm’s reach away.

She stood on the first rung, holding on to the railing, arching into the wind, framed against the lit-up Manhattan skyline they were sailing parallel to.

They’d just left port. There was no moon, but stars hung like tiny beacons above her, and beams of light from the yacht’s interior stroked her back in gold, flaring fire through the tresses that billowed behind her as if they were powered by her vitality.

Up until a moment ago, he’d kept catching himself bating his breath. He realized why.

Subconsciously, he’d been waiting for something to kick in, that cynicism that had always been an integral part of him. On some level, he expected to be slammed back to a reality that had nothing to do with this state of affinity. Experience—his and others’—kept trying to intrude with warnings that interaction always doused the testosterone-generated spark.

But then, his pleasure in being near her wasn’t just about anticipating the pleasures of bedding her, being inside her. He thrilled to her every gesture and glance. Her every word engaged his demanding sense of the absurd, fueled his eagerness for repartee. He’d wondered if the uncontainable drive to possess her painted his reactions to the rest of her in such intensity, or if it was the other way around.

Now he knew. The amalgam that was her was inextricable to his senses, his mind. Physically and mentally, she was a woman the likes of which he’d never dreamed of encountering.

The thrill of their encounter had been escalating, and he’d gladly succumbed to that unprecedented rapport, reveled in the overpowering attraction. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“This is magic.”

He hardened more at her huskily voiced wonder just as he softened, too, inside. “Si, ciò è magica, bellissima. You are.”

She swung toward him, a smile frolicking across her lips, her eyes glittering with awareness and delight. There was also a touch of mischief. But the emotion that made him struggle not to crush her in his arms was the hint of hesitation—trepidation, even.

Could it be she was wary of him?

No. He knew she trusted him just as instinctively as he did her. So why was she uneasy? Did she suspect that this couldn’t be real? That it would end? He didn’t share that worry. Not anymore. He couldn’t tell her not to worry, but he would show her she had no need to.

She took one hand off the rail, swept her arm in a graceful arc, eloquently encompassing their surroundings. “I meant this. This perfect night, on this enchanting yacht as it sails through the placid ink of the river.”

“But take your magic—ours—out of the equation and it would be just another yacht cruise on another pleasant evening.”

She sighed, a sound of contentment. “You must be right. I’ve been on night cruises before, in great weather. Felt nothing like this.”

Before he could revel in her admission, Giancarlo, his allaround right-hand man, caught his eye in the distance.

Durante inclined his head at her. “Are you ready to eat?”

She jumped down from the railing. “I’m ready to dive into the river and catch fish in my teeth.”

“Why didn’t you say you were hungry?”

She seemed taken aback. “I didn’t realize I was.”

“I didn’t, either. Other hungers overshadowed it.”

Delight swelled in his chest at the guilelessness, the unhesitating consent of her gaze and nod.

He wanted to forget his resolve to delay their gratification, knew she wouldn’t stop him if he did. But holding back, while chafing, was more gratifying than anything he’d ever done. He gestured for her to precede him, exhilaration shooting through him. She gave a choked laugh and almost skipped ahead.

As they traversed the massive deck to the dining hall, she exclaimed, “Is that another swimming pool, under that plexi roof? There was a huge one on the second-level deck.”

“Yes, that’s the covered one. I’ll take you around after I’ve fed you. You can take a dip in either. I can’t offer you something to wear, but you’ll be draped in night and wrapped in water, their silk caressing yours unhindered by barriers.”