Page 10 of Incognito

Ella had stuck by her through dating disasters, the Clay fiasco, and her mother’s death. Loyal, fierce, and beautiful inside and out, Ella made her feel like the luckiest girl on the planet despite her constant worries.

“Thanks, but I think the prince has other fish to fry, so to speak. He’s going incognito for a week and asked me to keep his identity a secret. He’s checked in under a false name, is parading around like an unshaven lout, and is determined to keep his true identity under wraps.”

“Wow.” Ella’s eyes widened, digesting the interesting news, before her razor-sharp mind predictably focussed elsewhere. “Unshaven lout? I thought you said he looked uptight?”

“I was wrong.”

Very wrong.

An instant image of dazzling blue eyes, day-old stubble, tousled dark curls, and a sexy smile flashed across her mind.

Uptight didn’t begin to describe what she thought of Dante.

Unfortunately, some of what she was thinking must’ve shown on her face, because Ella leaned closer and patted her forearm. “Okay, spill. You’ve given me the official lips-zipped version. Now tell me more about this prince. Is he hot?”

Natasha smiled at Ella, an expert at picking up on nuances, especially when they had anything to do with the male species. She could’ve avoided the question, danced around it, or made up a heap of boring platitudes.

Instead, Natasha grinned, sat back and fanned her face with a red and white checkered serviette. “He’s hot.”

“Details please.” Ella rubbed her hands together. “How hot?”

Natasha stopped fanning her face, threw the serviette on the table, and tapped her lips as if deep in thought, when in reality, she didn’t need time to ascertain Dante’s heat level.

She’d known the minute he’d strutted into the lobby, all six-foot-plus of testosterone-filled male, with the body of a Greek god and the face of a model.

“Tash, you’re killing me here,” Ella said, her tone implying that if she didn’t spill the gossip soon, she’d drag it out of her.

“Hang onto your latte, I’m trying to get my adjectives right.” Natasha widened her eyes deliberately. “After all, how many ways can you say bad-boy babe with a smile that can make your knees wobble at twenty paces and eyes that could melt a maiden aunt?”

“He’s that good?”

Natasha nodded, heat seeping into her cheeks at the memory of Dante’s eyes staring at her over their espressos, an unfathomable expression in their true-blue depths. “Better.”

Ella squealed and clapped her hands. “This is fabulous.”

“What’s fabulous?”

“This is the first time I’ve heard you notice a guy in over a year, let alone sing his praises,” Ella said, with a genuine smile. “You usually pretend guys don’t exist or criticise my dates to hell and back, which is usually totally accurate by the way. Men can be scum. But this is fabulous because you’re into this guy. Who cares if he’s a prince?” Ella winked “Time for you to have a little fun.”

Dread crept through Natasha. She had reason to be negative about guys. Clay had used her, hurt her, and left a lasting legacy that still threatened those she loved the most. She couldn’t help the protective barriers she’d erected around her heart, but was she as closed off as Ella made her sound?

Usually, she’d laugh it off, but maybe her friend had a point? Perhaps she had sounded like a shrew the last few years? Asfor Ella’s other observation—that she was ‘into’ Dante—nothing could be further from the truth.

“I’m not planning on having fun with the prince,” Natasha said, ignoring her dormant devil that insisted it would be a blast to try. “He asked me for a favour, that’s it. Once this week is over, I’m going to ask him for one, and milk his presence in the hotel for all its worth.”

Ella grinned. “You don’t think you’re protesting a tad too hard?”

“No!” Sounding too defensive, Natasha forced a smile, and said, “Give it a break, will you? I’ve given you your gossip fix for the day so lay off. Can’t a girl enjoy her mocha cappa in peace?”

As if on cue, Luigi bore down on their table bearing a tray filled with steaming mugs. “Ciao, bambina. How are my favourite girls today?”

He grinned and placed the usual skinny latte in front of Ella and Natasha’s mocha cappuccino directly into her outstretched hands. She needed the creamy blend of chocolate and coffee desperately. The earlier espresso with Dante had barely touched the sides. Besides, she’d been too engrossed in listening to his royal sneakiness to savour it.

Ella batted her eyelashes in the usual semi-flirtation she did with most men. “We’re fine, Luigi. And you?”

The Italian, old enough to be her father, kissed his fingertips and threw his hand into the air. “All the better for seeing you,bella. Now, would you girls like anything else? Maybe a serve of my best tiramisu? Or better yet, you stay for dinner?”

“We’re okay for now, thanks,” Ella said, her bold smile sending the old guy into another fit of finger-kissing, hand-throwing, and wistful grinning.

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