Page 75

She was too timid, of course. Domenico never would have needed to. As irritating as her compliance was, it was how Alex had known she was safe. Plus Erik had been there—also always safe. Alex would never have left at all if he’d thought his brother was ever at risk. He swore beneath his breath. His relief lasted less than a second before his anger roiled again. Her eyes sharpened. He watched her brain whirring in a direction he didn’t want it to go.

‘I know he can be demanding but I’ve never seen him look like that before,’ she mumbled. ‘Not so…’

Unhinged. Right. No one but Alex saw that side of Domenico. For everyone else, as long as his father got what he wanted, the brute didn’t emerge.

‘Unfettered-rage mode.’ He tried to deflect with a damned joke. ‘Gets out of control when he doesn’t get his way.’

He even winked, but his flippancy didn’t redirect her. She searched his eyes with her wide, emotion-drenched ones. Appalled. Concerned. Had he shocked sheltered, perfect Princess Tilly? He tore away and fixed the sit of his watch, willing the flight to go faster so he could get away from her. He’d taken the thorn he’d seen in his brother’s side and stabbed it in his own.

‘Did he ever hit you?’

The soft query came through clear as a bell in the headset. Of course this would be the one time Tilly didn’t stay silent. He didn’t answer, but then he realised that no answer was an answer. She would think the worst and he couldn’t stand for anyone to know the depths of that truth. His father had said it was about the lineage—arrogance had to be beaten out of the heir and obedience and humility whipped in. Together with toughness. A king needed to be strong. But it had been more than that. It had felt personal. There had been times when he’d thought his father would actually kill him. While it had been years since it happened, he hated him for separating him from his mother and brother, for making the palace feel like a prison and forcing him to make his own space in the country he would always love because its people had given him shelter.

‘As I’m sure you can imagine,’ he absently fingered the watch-strap, ‘when I was a kid there were several times I deserved to have my ass kicked.’

Sometimes being hit had been better than being abandoned in the terrifying bowels of that building.

Tilly didn’t respond. Was she back to the mute and dutiful pretty princess, desperately trying not to offend anyone? His irritation snarled back. He wasn’t cut out to be a good guy—what the hell was he doing?

Helping Erik.

Right. This was for his brother because Erik was a good man who couldn’t fail to help anyone vulnerable—especially a wounded princess. That had been the burden pressed on Erik—to be the caretaker, to embrace the duty of doing something for someone else.

Alex was the selfish one, but this time he was ensuring his brother got what he wanted. The second the helicopter landed he jumped out and snatched a lungful of sobering, clear air. Home safe. His turf. No place better. He glanced around and realised a crowd had gathered to greet them. Hell. The show wasn’t over—he had to pull out another performance. He offered his hand as she emerged.

‘Good news travels fast,’ he growled in a low warning when she hesitated.

Nostrils thinning, she took his fingers and almost allowed him to assist her. Her white blouse and long skirt were still pristine, but more hair had escaped the severe bun—softening into loose, drifting curls that fluttered about her face. The red was vibrant and bold—ironically everything she tried not to be. He couldn’t resist brushing one burnished strand back behind her ear. As he turned his discomfort flared. In front of these people—his people—he did not like lying.

‘Tilly, meet Bianca. She’s my head of house and can take care of everything you need. Bianca, this is Tilly.’

‘It’s wonderful to meet you, Princess.’ Bianca curtseyed. ‘We’ll do everything we can to welcome you here.’

More than him. He couldn’t feel less welcoming. And now he felt like a self-conscious gangly youth. ‘I’m sure you’ve already heard that Tilly and I were married this morning.’

His manager schooled her stunned expression like the discreet professional she was.

Alex braced. He needed to reorganise his schedule and set out a plan for the next few weeks. What had seemed like an entertaining notion was now a problematic reality. No way could he maintain the adoring act in front of his team for long.

‘Bianca, please show Tilly the house. I need to direct the team.’ He turned to Tilly. ‘Sorry to abandon you so soon, darling. I’ll be quick and then our honeymoon can properly begin.’

Tilly completely failed to school her stunned expression. Smothering a bitter laugh, he pressed close to murmur in her ear. ‘Keep up the façade until we’re alone.’

He braced against her sweet, tart scent. Stepping back, he saw she’d blushed further. Which was actually perfect. He winked at Bianca and strode towards the line-up of analysts and assistants.

‘Yes, it’s true.’ He plastered a smile on his face and walked straight into their embraces. ‘And no, you can’t meet her yet…it’s been a big day and she’s overwhelmed.’

He wasn’t parading Tilly past his astute analysts. She was still shaken from the run-in with Domenico. Plus there was no doubting that they’d all seen that feral video and he wasn’t subjecting her to their stares even if they appeared supportive. She’d been through enough.

‘Come on.’ He urged his team towards the company headquarters in the old fortress. ‘I want to get rid of you all asap.’

Clearing them out was easily achieved via a few jokes and a teasing competition. Having listed off the instructions, Alex went up the tower and stood at one of the arrow slits that afforded him a bird’s eye view of the central square and the jetty. In minutes the ferry filled up with staff carrying overnight bags until it was only Bianca, Chef Carlos, some security and a skeleton staff in the stables who remained.

He checked his phone and saw he had twenty-three missed calls and a million messages. He flipped through, stopping when he saw one of the messages was a link to a report of his father’s response to the fake Tilly video. Domenico expressed his disappointment, his sense of betrayal. Alex tensed. The video wasn’t even real, so why had Domenico allowed this reaction into the media? It only damaged Tilly by putting the blame on her and amplified the circulation of the video. Ignoring it—publicly at least—would have been the usual, dignified response and not fanned the damned online flames.

Domenico’s actions towards Tilly’s predicament justified the insane step Alex had just taken. It was as if his father had been waiting to use the first problem she’d encountered to push her towards Francesco. His gut twisted. The jerk had wanted to manipulate her. She’d been too good to be browbeaten into unwanted action until now. Like Erik. They were the saintly ones who deserved none of the filth that clung to him and his father. But Tilly was unsafe for as long as she felt emotionally beholden to Domenico. Alex had done the right thing. As he grimaced, his screen flashed with an incoming call. Erik. He stiffened, then swiped.

‘Glad you finally picked up,’ his brother said drily. ‘There’s outrageous gossip circulating and I’ve been asked to confirm the wild rumour I know nothing about.’