LITMIR.BIZ

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think you owe me an explanation first.’

      ‘The particular instrument you refer to is a museum piece almost beyond price. It was being displayed by one of today’s most celebrated instrument makers—’

      ‘Was being displayed?’ Emily asked. ‘Why are you talking about it in the past tense?’

      ‘Because it’s no longer there,’ he said evenly.

      ‘You mean it’s gone back to the museum?’ Relief and regret merged in the question.

      ‘Not exactly.’

      ‘What, then?’ Her look demanded he answer her fully this time.

      But Alessandro still said nothing, and just stared at some point over her left shoulder.

      Slowly Emily turned around, her eyes widening when she saw what he was looking at. A beautifully upholstered taupe suede viewing seat was angled to face a large entertainment system. Nestled in the corner of the unusual triangular-shaped seat rested a violin, propped up between two cream silk cushions. ‘Should it be out of its case?’ she mumbled foolishly, sinking down on the sofa again.

      ‘I imagine that’s the only way it’s ever going to be played,’ Alessandro said, levelling a long, steady gaze at her.

      Emily’s heart was thundering so fast she could hardly breathe. She had to turn round to take another look, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming—to prove to herself that she really was in the same room as the violin Miranda had played in Heidelberg.

      ‘But you told me it was a museum piece—beyond price,’ she said, not caring that her battered emotions were now plainly on show. ‘I don’t understand.’

      ‘Everything has its price Emily,’ Alessandro said with a small shrug as he regarded her coolly.

      He was waiting. For what? For her to say something? But how could she when her brain had stalled with shock and her whole body was quivering from some force beyond her control? To make matters worse, Emily couldn’t rid herself of the idea that she too was a prize exhibit—and with a rather large price tag dangling over her nose.

      ‘You bought it?’ she managed finally.

      ‘I bought it,’ Alessandro confirmed.

      ‘But why on earth—?’

      ‘As a bargaining counter.’

      ‘A bargaining counter?’ Emily spluttered incredulously. ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘Will you allow me to explain?’

      Emily clenched and unclenched her hands. She didn’t like the look on his face one bit. ‘I think you better had,’ she agreed stiffly, feeling as if she was clinging to Miranda’s dream by just her fingertips now.

      ‘It would be far better for your sister if she had enough money to continue her studies without the distraction of working with the band.’

      ‘Well, of course,’ Emily agreed. ‘But—’

      Alessandro’s imperious gesture cut her off. ‘Let me finish, please. It would be better still if she could have the use of that violin behind you—’

      ‘Is this before or after she wins the Lottery?’ Emily demanded, rattled by his composure.

      ‘What if I told you that I am prepared to give the violin to your sister…on permanent loan?’

      A thundering silence took hold of the space between them—until Alessandro’s voice sliced through it like a blade. ‘Well, Emily, what do you say?’

      ‘What would she have to do for that?’ Emily demanded suspiciously.

      ‘Your sister? Nothing at all.’ Alessandro’s mouth firmed as he waited for Emily’s thought processes to crest the shock he had just given her and get back up to speed.

      Emily’s eyes clouded with apprehension as her brain cells jostled back into some semblance of order. ‘What would I have to do?’

      A smile slowly curled around Alessandro’s lips, then died again. She was so bright…so vulnerable. It was as if he had spied some rare flower, moments too late to prevent his foot crushing the life out of it.

      Standing up, he crossed the room. He needed time to think…but there was none. Opening a door, he reached inside the small cloakroom where he had been keeping the flowers. He had ordered the extravagant bouquet to seal their bargain. As he grabbed hold of them he realised that his hand was shaking. He paused a beat to consider what he should do. He could ram them in the wastebin, where they belonged, or he could keep on with the charade…

      Turning to face Emily, he held out the huge exotic floral arrangement. There was real hope in his eyes, and a sudden tenderness to his hard mouth.

      ‘I’m sorry, Emily, I meant to give these to you earlier.’ She looked so wary, and Alessandro knew he was the cause. What had started out as a straightforward business transaction had developed into something so much more. If Emily Weston accepted his proposal he would be the luckiest man in Ferara…No—the world, he thought, trying to second-guess her reaction.

      ‘For what?’ Emily said, glad to have the opportunity to bury her face deep out of sight amongst the vivid blooms as he handed them to her. ‘I’ve never seen such a fabulous display,’ she admitted, forced to pull her face out again when they began to tickle her nose.

      ‘For agreeing to become my wife,’ Alessandro said softly.

      For a full ten seconds neither of them seemed to breathe, and then Emily whispered tensely, ‘Are you mad?’

      Alessandro’s rational self gave a wry smile, and told him she might be right. But thirty generations of accumulated pride in Ferara insisted that no woman in her right mind would refuse the opportunity to become princess of that land.

      ‘Not as far as I am aware,’ he said coolly.

      ‘I think you must be.’

      ‘I said I had a proposition for you. I made no secret of it.’

      ‘Yes, a recording contract…for my sister—from Prince Records,’ Emily said, thrusting the bouquet away from her as if she felt that by accepting it she was in some way endorsing Alessandro’s plunge into the realms of fantasy.

      ‘I have no connection whatever with any company called Prince Records,’ he said, brushing some imagined lint from the lapel of his jacket.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You assumed I was a recording executive,’ he elaborated. ‘I allowed you to go on believing that…while it suited me.’

      ‘I see,’ Emily said, finding it difficult to breathe. ‘And now?’

      ‘The deception is no longer necessary,’ Alessandro admitted. ‘Because I have something you want and you have something I want. It’s time to cut a deal.’

      Emily felt as if her veins had been infused with ice. She might be twenty-eight and unmarried, but when her prince came along she wanted more than a business deal to seal their union…she wanted love, passion, tenderness and a lifetime’s commitment—not a charter of convenience to close a cold and cynical deal. ‘So, who the hell are you?’ she demanded furiously.

      ‘Crown Prince Alessandro Bussoni di Ferara,’ he said. ‘I know it’s rather a mouthful—Emily?’

      Snapping her mouth shut again, Emily whacked the bouquet into his arms. ‘Take your damn flowers back! My sister might be in a vulnerable position right now, but let me assure you, Alessandro, I’m not.’

      ‘Your sister put herself in this position—’

      ‘How dare you judge her?’ Emily flared, springing to her feet to glare up at him. ‘You don’t have the remotest idea how hard she works!’

      Alessandro

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