‘I deserved it.’ His gaze went to her mouth, his smile fading as his frown returned. ‘How’s your lip?’
She touched the tiny spot with the tip of her tongue. ‘It’s fine. I should use lip balm more often. Madeleine is always nagging me about taking better care of myself.’
His eyes meshed with hers, searchingly, as if he was trying to solve a mystery inside her gaze. ‘I like that pink outfit you’re wearing.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Why do you dress in such drab gear all the time?’
Lottie looked down at her hands, rubbing her finger over her bitten-down thumbnail in a circular pattern. ‘It’s a habit I got into. A way of giving everyone the finger about their criticisms of me.’
‘The press?’
‘Yes. And the public.’ She met his dark gaze again. ‘I’ve never been the picture-perfect princess like Madeleine. I don’t think anyone’s ever taken a bad photo of her. Every time there’s a camera around I freeze. I feel awkward. I stiffen up. I can’t act natural when I know someone’s looking at me. And of course the press love those caught-off-guard shots without make-up or sweaty from the gym … or stumbling out of a helicopter looking green.’
‘So you don’t play ball rather than try hard and then get criticised for it.’
She saw something in his gaze she had never seen there before. Kindness. Understanding. She let out a slow breath and another notch of tightness in her chest loosened. ‘That boyfriend I told you about? It kind of started with that.’
His frown shadowed his eyes. ‘He criticised you?’
‘Not like that as such.’ She picked at a rough edge on what was left of her fingernail. ‘He took photos of me. Of us … when we were … you know …’
‘And you didn’t know about it?’
She looked at him again. ‘Not until I saw them on his phone. He’d set it up on remote control. I was horrified. It was like a nightmare I’d stumbled into. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. He’d shared the photos with some of his friends. Luckily my father was able to pull some strings to stop the images going viral. You can imagine the scandal it would have caused.’
His frown was so deep it made him look ten years older. ‘So you’ve pushed everyone away ever since?’
Lottie got to her feet and smoothed her skirt down over her thighs. She never talked about this stuff. To anyone. Ever. Why was she spilling all to Lucca Chatsfield, of all people? He’d had his latest bedroom antics splashed over the London tabloids the week before. He probably had an archive full of juicy boudoir shots. ‘I should let you rest. I’ve cancelled our flight back. I think we should wait and see how you’re feeling in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?’
‘No, it’s just a virus. Hope you don’t catch it.’ He lay back with a weary sigh. ‘I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.’
There was another silence.
‘I saw the picture you drew of me.’
He didn’t open his eyes but she thought she saw his body tense momentarily. ‘It’s just a doodle.’
‘I didn’t know you could draw like that.’
He made a dismissive sound.
‘You’re really talented, Lucca. Really talented.’
He opened that one dark satirical eye again. ‘So if I asked you to come and see my etchings you’d come in a flash?’
Lottie gave him a prim look to disguise the track her mind was taking at his double entendre. ‘I might appear naive but even I wouldn’t fall for that hackneyed line.’
He gave her a rueful smile that had a tilt of sadness to it. ‘You’re a nice kid, little princess. You should stay away from bad boys like me.’
She put on a confident smile that took far more effort than it should. ‘I intend to.’
LUCCA WOKE TO a raging thirst. He reached for the lamp switch, grimacing as the sweat-soaked sheets clung to his body like plastic wrap. He raked a hand through the stickiness of his hair and gingerly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His stomach gave a gurgle like a drain but that was as far as it went. Thank God and all his minions.
After a shower and a shave he felt marginally better. Not well enough to face food but a glass of water went down and stayed down, which was saying something.
He picked up his phone and checked out the newsfeed. It was laughably ironic that every paper was carrying the story of him holed up in the Chatsfield Monte Carlo with Princess Charlotte in a love-in.
Seasoned Playboy Spends Second Night with Prim and Proper Princess.
Is This the End of the King of One-Night Stands?
Could Wedding Bells Ring Twice for Preitalle Royals?
He switched off the screen in irritation. What was it with these people? Who made this stuff up? Did they seriously collect a wage for such drivel? He hadn’t even slept with Lottie.
She was not the sort of girl to have a casual fling. She’d already been exploited in the most appalling way. His insides twisted to think of how she must have felt to have her most private intimate moments exposed in such a sleazy way. He was pretty laid-back when it came to issues of modesty, but even so, any photos taken were with the consent of his partner at the time. He might be a little promiscuous but he still had some standards.
He picked up the drawing he’d started of her. He had to admit it was a good likeness. He’d captured that otherworldly look she had about her. It would look even better once he put some colour to it. That was the part he enjoyed the most, the detail going into a subject, the layers of meaning that each tiny brushstroke laid down.
There was a light rap on the connecting door. ‘Lucca? Are you decent?’
Good question, he thought. He hadn’t felt decent in a very long time. Maybe never. He opened the door to find Lottie looking up at him with those clear big green eyes sans glasses. Was she wearing contacts? Her eyes looked particularly bright. In fact, all of her looked particularly bright. She was dressed in a sundress with bright yellow daisies on it, a wide white patent-leather belt cinched around her waist. Her hair was loosely tied behind her head with a matching yellow silk bow. She looked fresh and young and … decent. He felt like someone had sucked the air out of his lungs. He couldn’t find his voice for a moment. ‘Wow.’
Her eyes sparkled. ‘Do you like it?’ She turned in a full circle and the skirt of the dress lifted just enough to give him a tantalising glimpse of her pretty knees and slim thighs. ‘I went shopping yesterday. There was this really helpful stylist at a boutique who showed me how to put stuff together. I maxed out my credit card. Actually, it was the paintings that did
