Scandal With a Prince (5 page)

Oh, most definitely intentional.

She paused, fumbling for the perfect response.
 
For months she’d worked to eliminate anything that might throw a monkey wrench into tonight’s event.
 
Week after week had been spent poring over lists, holding staff meetings, making phone calls, and inspecting every inch of the hotel property to ensure that everything would go as planned.
 
In the end, even those aspects of the evening Megan couldn’t control, such as the pleasantly warm Mediterranean breeze and clear night sky, fell exactly into place.
 
She’d been overwhelmed by the enthusiasm guests showed for the refurbished hotel and its conference facilities, and she knew Ramon would be thrilled with the resulting increase in business.

Then there’d been Stefano.
 

Despite her best efforts, Megan’s attention had remained fixed on the prince the entire night.
 
While engaging in witty banter with the crème de la crème of European society, she’d privately simmered over the fact he’d spent the evening at one end of the rooftop deck in what appeared to be a rather intimate conversation with the dark-haired woman from the lounge, the one with the model-perfect body clad in a skin-tight, plunging red designer gown.
 

She’d told herself to consider his behavior one more checkmark on the list of things that were going according to plan, as Stefano’s preoccupation with the woman kept him from seeking her out, but Megan’s heart didn’t want to follow her brain.
 
She might not have seen Stefano in the flesh in a decade, but for the first time in her life she found herself jealous of another woman.
 
Her heart took her right back to Venezuela, to the feeling of his strong, capable hands pulling her to him on that beach, holding her as if he never wanted to touch another woman in his life.

Which is why she couldn’t bring herself to step away from Stefano’s possessive arm now, even as the last of the guests wished each other good night and entered the elevator.
 
Only a few waiters and the manager remained on the roof, clearing up the last of the glassware and double-checking the padded benches for forgotten items.

“As I recall, you made the same promise, Your Highness,” Megan finally replied.
 
“Yet you were also quite busy.
 
I imagine there were many guests who wanted to meet you tonight.”
 

In a voice low enough only she could hear, he said, “I realize it has been a long time, but you can call me Stefano, as you once did.
 
‘Your Highness’ feels rather formal, don’t you think?”

“Prince Stefano!”
 
A male voice boomed behind them.
 
“I apologize for not welcoming you to the Grandspire before now, Your Highness, but I see that you are in good hands.”
 

At the greeting, Megan shifted to see Ramon approaching.
 
Stefano’s hand dropped from her back as he turned to exchange the necessary pleasantries with the hotel manager, commenting on the building’s modern decor and welcoming atmosphere.
 
Behind them, two waiters quietly rolled a cart with used linens and glassware toward service elevator.

Megan kept her expression as professional as possible while the men spoke, in spite of her inner tumult.
 
As much as she missed Stefano’s warm touch at her back—craved it, even—she took the manager’s timing as a sign.
 
If she wanted to protect her daughter, let alone her own heart, she needed to keep her distance from Stefano.
 
She might spend much of her day catering to the elite, but she wasn’t one of them and didn’t care to be.
 
Her life with Anna was idyllic in every way that counted.

She’d be an idiot to linger alone under the stars with him, pretending to be something she wasn’t, simply to satisfy a passing desire.

“Mahmoud Said assures me that your conference facilities are as well-designed as the Gaudi Ballroom,” the prince said.
 
“If that is the case, I imagine he and my father will be your guests again very soon.”

“I’d be pleased to give you a private tour,” Ramon said.
 
“I realize it’s late, so if you’d prefer another time, let me know what fits your schedule and I shall be at your disposal.
 
I can provide you with an information package outlining our standard rates and array of services, but of course we’re always happy to accommodate special requests.”

Stefano shifted, his arm brushing against Megan’s to send a jolt of awareness through her.
 
“That’s very kind of you.
 
However, Ms. Hallberg—Megan—here is so efficient she’s already made the same offer.
 
We were just about to get started with the walk-through.”
 
His tone was relaxed as he added, “I know you must be anxious to get back to your family after such a long evening.
 
Perhaps you’d be available tomorrow morning?
 
I’m not due to fly home until noon.
 
I’d be happy to pick up the information and pass it along to my father and his staff.”

It was a polite response on the surface, but there was no mistaking the royal dismissal.
 
Megan assumed Stefano and the rest of his family were skilled at such social maneuvering.
 
It was the attitude of a man used to getting his way.
 
Ramon’s quick nod of acceptance only reinforced it.
 
“I’m afraid I am already engaged through the lunch hour, but if you’re agreeable, Megan could meet with you.”
 

“A breakfast meeting would be perfect.”
 
Stefano glanced at Megan.
 
“Could you make it at nine?”

“I’ll hold a window table for you at the Jardín Alba,” Ramon replied before Megan could respond.
 
“It’s on the mezzanine level and very quiet at that hour, so you won’t be interrupted.”

Megan scrambled for a means to protest, but the manager had already extended his business card.
 
“Here’s my contact information.
 
If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to call me day or night.
 
The Grandspire would be honored to host the Barrali family.”

Stefano slid the card into the inside pocket of his dinner jacket.
 
“I’m sure my breakfast meeting with Megan will be quite informative.
 
Thank you.”

Stefano turned, but instead of brushing against Megan as he had before, he placed his hand on her lower back, then gestured toward the elevator with a flourish.
 
“After you.
 
I’m very much looking forward to the tour.”

Megan nodded politely, more for the sake of her boss than for Stefano, then crossed the roof deck with Stefano’s hand warming her skin through her thin dress.
 
He didn’t break contact until he punched the button to call the elevator.

“How kind of you to offer the tour, Megan,” he said as they stood in front of the doors.
 

Megan glanced over her shoulder, only then realizing that Ramon wasn’t with them, but had moved across the deck to rescue a forgotten wineglass from a planter ledge adjacent to the service elevator.
 
She was about to suggest they invite Ramon to join them when the elevator doors opened.
 
Stefano put one arm against the door to hold it while waving her inside with the other.
 

“I realize it’s poor etiquette to contradict royalty, but I made no such offer,” Megan said after the elevator doors closed.
 
He stood within arm’s reach of her in the enclosed space.
 
The breadth of his shoulders and the way he held himself reminded her of a large, well-muscled cat waiting to pounce upon a mouse that’d mistakenly wandered into its lair.
 
Instinct told her to keep to the far side of the elevator so she wouldn’t fall prey to him, but would he read that retreat as fear?

And if he did, given that they’d parted in Venezuela on such casual terms, would he ask what caused her trepidation now?

She thought better of taking him to the now-empty business center with its rabbit warren of computer stations and instead punched the button for the floor just below the roof deck.
 
It contained most of the hotel’s larger conference rooms, including one with huge windows that faced both the beachfront and an adjacent high-rise condominium complex.
 
If she took him there for his tour, Stefano might think twice before doing anything he wouldn’t want to be seen in public.
 
With the lights on in the conference rooms, anyone awake in the condominiums could see them.

“It is your job, isn’t it?” he asked, making no effort to hide the desire lacing his tone.
 
“To entice guests into staying?”

“For business, Your Highness.”

He raised an eyebrow at her use of his title and took a step toward her.
 
Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest, but instead of touching her, he reached past her hip to tap a small sign beside the elevator buttons.
 
“But the hotel is also geared toward pleasure travelers, is it not?
 
This, for instance, says there is a pool, spa, and outdoor patio.”

“Yes, of course.”
 
No matter what, she would not take him there.
 
Not if there was a wisp of a chance her parents could still be on that level with Anna.
 
“Most luxury hotels do have those types of facilities.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to an empty hallway.
 
Megan stepped out ahead of Stefano, quickly making a left turn to lead him to the largest of the conference rooms.
 
“All of our meeting rooms are on this floor.
 
I’m taking you to the one we use for groups of a hundred or more, since it offers both a lovely view of the sea and all the latest audio visual—”

“I don’t know what to make of you, Megan Hallberg.”

Stefano stopped walking and leaned against the wall.
 
When Megan stopped walking as well, he made a show of looking her up and down.
 
The slow smile that spread across his face sent a wave of fire through her abdomen.
 
And lower.
 

He was making this very, very difficult.
 
“What do you mean?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did we or did we not make wild, passionate love to each other once upon a time?”

The words were so unexpected she couldn’t form a response.
 
He reached out and grabbed her left wrist, pulling her toward him in the quiet hall.
 
“I know you remember.
 
I could see it in your eyes when you shook my hand in the lobby.
 
You remember it all, don’t you?
 
How close we became that summer?”

Unable to trust her voice, she gave him a small nod.
 
Wow, but the man was direct.
 
More so at thirty-two than he’d been at twenty-two.

His tone softened.
 
“Then why so formal?
 
I meant it earlier when I said I wanted to catch up.
 
Last I knew, you were going back to Minnesota to finish your graduate degree.
 
I assumed you’d be happily married and settled in a nine-to-five job, living a busy life with a slew of children running through your kitchen on a daily basis.
 
Never in a million years did I expect to see you here.”

“Nor I you.”

His fingers eased from her wrist to her hand, which he raised between them, near his heart.
 
His index finger slid up her bare ring finger.
 
“I want to know everything about you.
 
What’s happened to you since Venezuela.
 
How you came to Barcelona.
 
Everything.”
 
His fingers tightened around hers while his green eyes, so much like Anna’s, searched her face.
 
“I’ve thought of you often.”

 
The words warmed her cheeks, but how could she believe him?
 
To him, their encounter had been only that—a brief encounter—carrying none of the emotion it had for her.
 
Though she’d been on the same page as Stefano when they left Venezuela, knowing they each had their own lives and that it was best they go their separate ways, she’d been young and naive to think he’d felt the same depth of passion she had during those heady days.

If he had, he wouldn’t have ignored her attempts to contact him, let alone asked another woman to marry him less than a month later.

In one smooth motion, he pulled Megan into his arms, spinning her so her back was against the wall.
 

“Your Highness—”

“Stefano, please.”
 
His face was only inches from hers.
 
He smelled of warm skin and masculine cologne mixed with a hint of
cava
.
 
She closed her eyes against the rising wave of her own desire.
 
Mustering what little remained of her willpower, she placed both palms against his chest to give herself space.