Page 48 of The Wanted Prince
I stood and watched their limo pull off, and in that moment, I felt like it might be.
CHAPTER 18
LAURA
Alessandro crashed hard after meeting his brothers. He face-planted, clothed, flat on the bed, and didn’t stir till I woke him for dinner.
“Uh?” He rolled over, bleary and mussed. I smiled. He was cute like that, all rosy from sleep.
“Dinner,” I said. “You need to eat.”
He sat up, still yawning, and rubbed his eyes, then cocked his head slightly and sniffed the air.
“What smells good?” His eyes went wide, panicked. “You didn’t order in, did you? Did you use a card?”
“No, I used cash, and I called in the order. No name, no apps, nothing to trace us.”
Alessandro’s shoulders went loose and he slumped forward. “Sorry to snap. I guess I’m on edge.”
I sat beside him and smoothed out his hair. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Nobody saw me. I waited till the driver left to bring in our food, then I checked to make sure no neighbors were out there.”
“Smart woman.” He turned and kissed me, a brush of his lips. I pulled him to me, to lean on my shoulder. He sighed low and quiet, his breath through my hair. “My brothers were the last two names on my list. If it wasn’t them or any of the others…”
“Leave it for tonight,” I said, and got to my feet. “We have paella. I know you love that. And I found wine, a pretty nice white.”
“I am pretty hungry.”
“Of course you are.” I held out my hand, and he took it and stood. He brightened at the sight of the table all set, plates of paella and fresh green salad.
“Mm, you got real food.” He made a sound like a moan. “I didn’t realize till I smelled it, but I’ve missed food so much. Food that’s not from a vending machine or a spray can. You know, if I were king, that’s the first thing I’d do: outlaw all foods you can spray on a cracker. And anything involving cheese spelled with a Z.”
“Aw, I’d miss cheez.” I took my place at the table. Alessandro sat, too, and uncorked the wine. He poured mine first, and I took a long sip. It tasted delicious, and I half-moaned myself. We ate for a while in ecstatic silence, our tastebuds recalling what food should be like. I tried my paella, then a fresh plum tomato, then another long sip of the fruity white wine. Even the bread was warm and fluffy, rich and salty with fresh melted butter.
“Thank you,” said Alessandro, when our plates were clean. “I needed this so much, you can’t even imagine. Not just the food, but quiet to eat it. A moment of peace after… you know.”
I smiled. I knew. Our time on the road had had its highlights — our night swim in Spain, our impromptu beach day. Our night at the fair, when we’d danced in cat’s-eye masks. But for the most part, it had been exhausting, cramped rooms and driving, bad food. More driving. Ghosts from Alessandro’s past, then back to the driving.
“I heard about a woman who didn’t leave her house for nine years. She had her food delivered, her laundry sent out. Her doctor and dentist both saw her at home. We could do that, if my brothers don’t find anything. Stay here forever, eating paella.”
I slid my hand over his. “They’ll find something, or we will. Or even Ramirez.”
Alessandro frowned. “We haven’t so far.”
“The truth has a way of coming to light.”
“Does it? I wonder…” He reached for his glass, found it empty, and pulled a sour face. I jumped to my feet.
“Oh! There’s dessert!”
Alessandro perked up at that, to my relief. He brightened even further when he saw what it was: chocolate-sprinkled slices of tiramisu.
“My favorite,” he sighed. “How did you know?”
“Because you’ve told me a million times. Because I know you.”
We both laughed at that, and a bit at ourselves, at how much on edge we’d been since we’d got back.
“The last of the wine,” said Alessandro, and poured us each half a glass. He drained half of his, then tried his dessert. The bliss that came over him was almost comic, how he sagged in his chair and his features went slack. “Oh… oh, that’s good.”