The Playboy Prince (Piacere Princes, Book One) Read online

  “Yes, and is it any wonder why?” Luca murmured, his gaze dropping again to her chest.

  Magdalena fought the urge to cover herself, but made a mental note to run home later and pack a few things that made her more comfortable facing Luca.

  And maybe Salvy, too. He looked at her like he could see her naked, but maybe even a Hazmat suit couldn’t change that.

  She glared at Luca. She didn’t need Salvy here to fight her battles, even if it had warmed her all the way to her toes to hear him stand up for her in front of his gross cousin.

  “I resent your suggestion. My father has served this crown with loyalty and discretion for longer than I’ve been alive, and I’ve done the same. I’m more than qualified to design a few formal outfits.” She shoved a page of notes into his hand, one that would help his own tailor complete an outfit that would match the theme of the rest of the royal family. “If you want to take this up with the King, I can’t stop you. But I do take issue with you questioning my character.”

  Luca just smiled, the expression on his face one that said he found her anger adorable. In the sort of way that made him want to slap her. “Forgive me. When I walk into a room and find the royal seamstress sucking on my cousin’s fingers, my mind just goes toward the cynical.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “Well, I know you’ll take care to ensure things don’t get out of hand. Even the King would be hard pressed to explain how he could possibly employ one of Salvadore’s many conquests.” He reached out to pat her cheek, a little harder than necessary. “How would that look, after all?”

  Luca left and Maggie blew out the breath she’d been holding. She counted to ten in an attempt to cast off her irritation, but as she summoned the courage to cut herself a slice of that pie, then grabbed a box of crackers for good measure, dread itched at her palms. Luca was a lot of things, but at least about this, he wasn’t wrong.

  She couldn’t ruin her father’s reputation because she lost complete control of her hormones whenever the second prince was in the room. Not only that, but he had done nothing to prove to her that he was different than she believed. That he regretted how he’d treated her all those years ago.

  He had said that he valued her, and Maggie felt in her heart that he didn’t truly see her the way he saw the other women who pranced at the edges of his life, but how could she be sure?

  A frown tugged at her lips as she made her way through the halls and back to her workshop. She needed to get started on the sketches for the royal family, and her encounters with Salvy were making it hard to focus. She didn’t like the man Salvadore had become, or the little regard he paid to the responsibility of his crown. How he behaved. How he treated women across the world like toys he collected and discarded, or at best, set in a trophy case where they would gather dust as spectacles to be viewed.

  For some reason, when he was close enough to touch, she couldn’t remember any of that.

  She would have to find a way to remember that she would cost her father’s business their biggest account if she couldn’t control herself, and probably her own future in Cielo, as well.

  Time flew as she focused on her favorite part of the process—the drawing. Maggie loved creating clothes, and even though it was silly, having free rein to design dresses and suits for an actual royal ball with serious throwback appeal overrode her thoughts about how she felt about having Salvadore Piacere back in her life.

  The dreams of her own clothing line, of elite boutiques around the world, might have been set aside because of her father’s illness, but her passion remained.

  “Magdalena!” Niccolo, the crown prince of Cielo, boomed as he stepped into her workshop.

  A smile found Maggie’s lips as she pulled her concentration from the drawings and spun around. She hadn’t seen Nico since she’d last spent time at the palace, and studying him for a quick moment now, thought he looked tired.

  “Hello, Your Highness. It’s good to see you. Thank you for coming on short notice.”

  “Well, Salvadore left us all little choice in the matter, but the nice part is getting to say hello to you. You remember Elisa?”

  The small girl standing beside him tugged her hand from his grasp and folded her arms over her chest as she studied Magdalena. Her eyes were blue, but a lighter shade, and her honey-gold hair had come straight from her mother. Maggie had met the princess a few times and, like everyone else in Cielo, had fallen in love with the woman. It was a shame, what had happened.

  Elisa, for her part, had a reputation as a troublemaker. The petulant twist of her lips said she’d earned it, and Maggie tried to prepare herself for the fitting. She had little experience with small children.

  “She was a toddler the last time I saw her but yes, of course.” She smiled at the girl, who didn’t return it. “I’m Magdalena. I’ve known your father since we were children.”

  “So?”

  Nico frowned. “Be polite, please.”

  “Really, it’s no bother.” Maggie gave him her best reassuring smile. The little girl might be a holy terror, but she was a princess and, at the moment, the sole second generation inheritor of the crown.

  “It is to me.” He nudged his daughter.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Magdalena.”

  “It’s quite all right. We all get a little cranky after being stuck in school all day, right?”

  “Oh, she wasn’t in school,” Nico said, his frown deepening. Elisa’s cheeks turned pink and she avoided looking at either her father or Maggie. “She was recently suspended—again—for fighting.”

  “Oh?” Maggie raised her eyebrows and turned away to hide her smile. Poor Nico. The girl was a handful. “Did she deserve it?”

  “He,” Elisa said, a little too much pride in her small voice. “And why would I hit someone who didn’t deserve it?”

  “An excellent point.” Nico didn’t seem amused, so Magdalena grabbed the sketches she’d done for the girl’s ball dress and attire as flower girl at Salvadore’s wedding.

  Her stomach twisted at the thought, and Maggie decided then and there—no matter what—she would not go to that stupid wedding and watch Salvy tie himself to some money-hungry tramp. Even if it turned out to be Camilla’s hand he put the ring on.

  Especially then.

  She tried to put it out of her mind as she faced Nico and his daughter. “What did he do?”

  “He was saying mean stuff about my uncle.”

  “All of which was true, I’m sure,” Nico said, his eyes apologizing.

  “It’s not okay,” Elisa argued in a tone too sophisticated for a six-year-old. “Do you think it’s okay for people to say mean things about a prince?”

  She was asking Maggie, who cleared her throat. “Well…no, I guess not. I think that, in general, people should mind their own business.”

  Nico groaned. “Please, don’t encourage her.”

  Magdalena winked at the girl, who came closer to smiling than she had since she’d entered the room. “Do you want to see what I was thinking of making you for the ball?”

  Her little face twisted. “Is it a dress?”

  “Yes. Why, don’t you want to wear a dress?”

  “Not really,” she sighed. “But I’m used to it.”

  “Well, maybe we can do something else.” Magdalena didn’t know what—she couldn’t exactly imagine a princess at a ball who didn’t wear a beautiful gown, but maybe it was time that changed. If that’s what the princess wanted.

  “Really?” Her eyes lit up. “I could wear pants?”

  Maggie looked toward Nico, her eyebrows raised in a silent question.

  He shrugged and nodded. “My brother may be forcing us all to play dress-up for this charade of a marriage proposal, but he can’t force us to be uncomfortable as well, can he?”

  Elisa squealed, truly happy now. Magdalena couldn’t help but wonder how much of her attitude came from people always either telling her what to do or assuming they knew what she wante
d.

  Maggie crouched down and showed her the sketch she’d done of an ethereal blue dress, in the vein of classic Cinderella. “Okay, so what if we keep the idea but change the design? You’ll still look beautiful, but you can wear pants.”

  “Deal.”

  “Okay, now stand up here so I can measure you. You must have grown three feet since the last time we made clothes for you.”

  She giggled, and Nico shot Magdalena a grateful look, followed by a mouthed thank you.

  Maggie smiled and got down to business, making quick work of Elisa’s measurements before turning to raise an eyebrow at Nico. “Now, do you think you’ll be okay with what I’ve come up with for you, or would you prefer a dress?”

  Elisa laughed again and Nico shook his head. “I trust you, Magdalena. How about we double-check my measurements and then I get the kid back to her bedroom, since she’s grounded.”

  “You’ve got it. Although, I’m pretty sure standard prison grub these days contains ice cream.”

  “It’s November, Miss Magdalena,” the girl informed her, one hand on her hip. Sass oozed from her expression, from the sparkle in her eye, and Maggie thought that if Nico ever managed to fall in love again, that person would have a bigger task in getting Elisa to fall for her than the prince himself.

  “Hot cocoa, then?” Maggie murmured, running a tape measure over Nico’s arms, legs, neck, and inseam without the accidental slip she’d had with Salvy. Thank God.

  Her hands were normally steady at her work. She’d never groped a client before, and she sincerely hoped to never do so again.

  Her stomach swirled at the memory, at the feeling of his manhood under her fingers, and for just a moment, she entertained the thought of what it would feel like wrapped in her hand.

  When she brought her brain back around to focus, she looked up to see Nico studying her face. His expression hung somewhere between concern and amusement.

  “What?” Maggie snapped.

  “Nothing, nothing.” He smiled. “Take care of yourself, Magdalena. I’m sure you remember the skills you’ll need to survive living among the wolves for a few weeks.”

  “What does that mean?” Elisa asked, her sky-blue eyes wide.

  “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” her father replied, winking at Maggie like a mischievous older brother before dragging his daughter out of the room.

  Magdalena hadn’t planned on coming home again so soon, but she couldn’t stay in the palace. The confrontation with Luca had rattled her, and the near-miss with Salvadore made her desperate for a shower. She didn’t know if she could wash away the sensual tingles his touch had left all over her body, but she might as well try.

  What she really needed was a few minutes alone with herself, or to find a guy willing to help her release some…she’d call it tension.

  There wasn’t time for the latter, not with everything else going on, and honestly, as Maggie had gotten older, she found that short-term hookups were more trouble than they were worth. Her grandmother used to say that finding a man was a whole lot easier than losing him when you wanted to, and time had proven her nana a wise woman.

  She smiled at the memory of the feisty old lady. Magdalena thought perhaps staying single and able to live on her own terms might be the life for her, too. She had long ago put away her fanciful daydreams of marrying Prince Salvadore one day, of being accepted into the family the way a commoner never could be, but that didn’t change the fact that no one else had ever come close to making her feel the way he did.

  Seeing him again only confirmed that, and her face felt like it was going to melt off at the memory of those exact words, the way she’d written them in the diary he’d read ten years ago. She’d taken a vacation with her girlfriends the day after he’d told her what he thought of her crush by kissing another girl. He’d been gone to boarding school when she returned, but somehow, deep in her heart, she’d thought he might come after her. Tell her he felt the same way, or at least apologize for being a jerk and promise they could still be friends.

  But he hadn’t. A decade had flown by, and Salvadore had passed it with countless women who he obviously found more attractive choices than her. She’d spent it at school, and becoming exceptionally good at fashion design while finding that men were a waste of time.

  She knew some people thought her lonely. She didn’t go out much, and the friends she had were more acquaintances. They didn’t have much in common, Maggie supposed.

  Regardless, when her phone dinged with a text message from Brigida, Maggie agreed to meet them for a quick drink and an update on the whole Matrigna Holdings debacle. The preparations for the ball were going to take up much of her time, but she couldn’t let this thing slide. Her father’s life might not last forever, but Maggie was determined that he would live out his days in their little cottage nestled at the foot of the mountains. She didn’t care if the King himself was behind the property buyout.

  Once she’d packed all of her more sensible clothes and every pair of underwear she owned, Maggie shouldered the bag and headed to say goodbye to her father. The sound of laughter drew her forward, and she found her dad and his friend Juliet in front of the fire, both of their smiles glowing in the light.

  “Oh, Magdalena. I’m so glad you called me. Your father says he was dangerously close to becoming boring, and that just won’t do.”

  Maggie crossed the room and let the older woman fold her into a hug, her giant boobs crushing the air from Magdalena’s lungs as she squeezed tight.

  “Hi, Juliet,” she wheezed after the woman released her. “Thank you for coming.”

  She waved a hand. “Pish posh. I would have come sooner had you told me the truth.”

  “Don’t scold her, Julie,” her father intervened. “I told her silence was the best way.”

  “From the public maybe. Not from me.”

  “I’m happy you were able to come on such short notice. It’s going to be a busy time at the palace and I’ll have to be there more nights than not.”

  “Just like the old days, huh?”

  “Not quite,” Magdalena murmured, thinking of how Salvadore had only grown more handsome—and infinitely more skilled at being impossible to resist—over the years.

  “Well, I know you’ve got this. I can stay until after the to-do at the end of the month, and then my niece is coming from America to stay with me for a while.”

  “That will be nice.”

  “Yes, she’s one of those lost children that seem to be more and more common these days—like you, dear. She’s in her twenties and works as a glorified babysitter while she goes to school forever.” Juliet rolled her eyes. “In my day, all you needed to figure things out was good friends, a decent-sized penis, and a couple of orgasms a week.”

  Magdalena laughed, despite the fact that she didn’t exactly enjoy discussing such things in front of her father. Juliet did always get right to the point. “I’ll try to remember that. Who needs professional fulfillment and true love?”

  Juliet sobered, looking Maggie straight in the eye. “True love is for fairytales, darling. No matter what Prince Salvadore and the palace are trying to sell with this ball nonsense, that sort of thing doesn’t play out in real life.”

  “I know that.”

  Did she? Magdalena wasn’t sure, but she figured a woman like Juliet, who had been married three times, would know.

  “You going out, bella mia?”

  Maggie went to her father and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to meet some friends for a quick drink and then head back to the palace. I’ll check in every day, though, okay?”

  He patted her hand. “You don’t have to, but I’ll look forward to hearing your voice.”

  Maggie headed for the door, motioning for Juliet to follow her into the hallway as subtly as possible. By the time they were alone, the expression on the older woman’s face made it clear she was looking forward to whatever gossip she was about to get.

  “Could you keep an eye out fo
r any letters or phone calls from someone claiming to represent a Matrigna Holdings?”

  Juliet’s eyebrows went up, her hazel eyes flickering with interest. “Those people buying up all the land in the country? They’re after Gabriel’s little plot?”

  “You’ve heard of them?”

  “Sure. Half the people in my little town have already sold out. They’re spending money like nobody’s business.”

  “Where are they all going?”

  She shrugged. “The buyer is allowing them to remain in their homes and pay rent to him for the time being, but I imagine once he’s got all he wants, there will be some changes to the landscape.” Her lips twisted in disgust. “I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if anything comes in.”

  “Thanks, Juliet. And thanks again for staying. I promise to be home by the time…what was your niece’s name?”

  “Amalia.” She smiled, clearly taken with her niece despite her earlier criticism. “Lia. She’s a good girl.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting her. I hope we can all spend a little time together before you go back home.”

  “I imagine she’ll love that. She’ll much prefer the excitement of Arcobaleno to my little country home.” Juliet smiled and nudged Maggie toward the door. “Don’t worry about your father. Just prove yourself with this job. Once the crown has accepted you as his replacement, the rest of the kingdom will do the same.”

  “Thanks.”

  Time had gotten away from her, and if the buses weren’t running on time she would be late to meet her friends. Not that any of them would care—both Barty and Camilla ran late like they didn’t own watches—but Maggie was anxious to get back to the palace. Her staff would arrive first thing in the morning and she still had to revamp Elisa’s costumes.

  Her worries turned out to be in vain, as the bus dropped her off a block from the bar with two minutes to spare. She blew inside and, as she suspected, found only Brigida and Lorenzo waiting at the table.