had their chance together—as brief as it might have been. There was no way of recapturing it. He refused to even consider it. Okay, maybe he had considered it, but he wouldn’t act upon his desires.
Even if their lovemaking hadn’t made her cry, they didn’t belong together. He couldn’t make her the promises she deserved. And he wouldn’t have any woman waiting around for him when he had absolutely no intention of making a commitment.
Therefore, it was best that he shove aside those tempting images of her in his arms with that wanton desire reflected in her eyes. He swallowed hard. Could they ever be friends like before? He was feeling less assured about that with each passing moment.
The butler stood aside. “Welcome, Miss Ricci. It’s good to have you back.”
“Hello, Alfred. It’s good to be back.”
Luca held out his arm to Elena. She paused and looked at it as if she wasn’t sure what to do. Boy, he really had messed things up between them.
“Go ahead,” he encouraged. “I promise not to bite.”
A small smile lifted the corners of her very desirable lips. She tentatively slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. When an unfamiliar sensation pulsed up his arm and settled in his chest, he stilled his body. He refused to give any indication that her touch affected him. Because it hadn’t. Not really. It was just nerves. He was just worried about doing something to drive his best friend even further from him.
“Are you ready?”
Elena nodded.
Her face was void of emotion. He knew that look. It was her working face—the look she wore when she was strutting down the catwalk in some amazing outfit. He couldn’t rightly describe any of the fashions she wore, because when he googled her, he was always caught up by the beauty of her face. It didn’t matter what hair color or stylish cut she was sporting—ever since their night together, he’d been captivated by her.
He took sure strides up the steps to the open palace door. Inside, there was a host of palace staff to greet them and escort them to the dining room. It was odd, considering Luca had been running through this palace with his host of cousins since he was in diapers. That seemed so long ago now.
A flash went off, momentarily blinding Luca.
Elena came to a standstill. She released his arm. “The press is here?”
“Not that I know of.”
Elena took a step back. “I should have expected this. Coming here was a mistake.”
Luca glanced around. The photographer moved out of the dining room. “It’s not the press. It’s a private photographer. My sister is sentimental and wants to have pictures to remember these events.”
Elena’s worried gaze met his. “You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Since when did you become so shy? I thought the camera was your friend.”
“You thought wrong.” And with that Elena brushed past him and headed into the dining room.
What had just happened? His radar was going off. Something was definitely amiss. And it frustrated the heck out of him that he’d wrecked their relationship to the point where she wouldn’t even open up to him.
He rushed to catch up to her. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, why won’t you even face me?”
She didn’t stop. “It’s nothing,” she called over her shoulder. “Just drop it.”
“Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it if I can.”
She stopped and turned to him. Wearing an indifferent expression like a mask, she said, “I don’t know why you think I need help.”
Luca reached out and grasped her arm before she could wander off. “I know things aren’t right between us, but I also know you really well, and no matter what you say, I know there’s something wrong—something big.”
Elena yanked her arm from him. “You should concentrate on your sister. This is her big night.”
As though his sister had heard her name mentioned, she rushed over to them. Annabelle’s face was aglow with happiness. “Elena, I was so excited when I heard you were back on the island.” She reached out and they quickly hugged. “Thank you so much for coming.”
A strange sensation coiled through Luca as he watched the easy smile light up Elena’s face. Elena certainly hadn’t done that when she’d spotted him at her mother’s house. In fact, her reaction had been quite the opposite.
He didn’t know why he let it bother him. There were plenty of other women out there who would be happy to have his company. If only he had the slightest bit of interest in those other women.
He inwardly groaned with frustration. He turned away and went in search of something to drink. He wasn’t really thirsty, but it was certainly better than watching Elena make nice with everyone—everyone but him.
He had to quit letting her get to him. He needed to withdraw. Wasn’t that what he’d promised himself after his mother’s murder? To keep people at a safe distance?
That was why he’d packed up and moved away from Halencia and Mirraccino. It hurt too much when people he cared about were torn from his life—whether by murder, grief or something else. He just couldn’t go through that again.
And though he’d missed his sister and Elena while he’d been traveling, he’d been able to distract himself. He was always on the go. A new adventure. A new challenge. That was exactly what he should do now—set off on a new expedition. But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Until the week was over, he had to make the best of this situation. And then he would be gone. He would return to Milan. He would make plans for some daring feat and forget all about these unwanted emotions.
AT LAST SHE was an invited guest.
Elena had never thought the day would come when she would be invited to the palace. It was the final confirmation that she’d gone from being a nobody to a somebody. She was no longer the shy child who was left out of all the elaborate royal birthday parties and the other celebrations Luca and his sister attended.
After waiting a lifetime for this moment, she was surprised to find it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she’d imagined. Truthfully, she wasn’t enjoying herself. She was in no frame of mind to take part in such a celebration. Her life was a mess, and she had a feeling the worst was yet to come.
At dinner, Luca had been seated at the other end of the extremely long table. There was no chance of him probing her with his eyes—searching for answers to his unspoken questions. The problem with hanging out with her former best friend was that he could still read her like a book. And she just wasn’t ready to open up to him.
During the dinner, she’d witnessed
