Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) by Natasha Moore Read Free Book Online Page A

outside her window had been a rude awakening. She couldn’t resist closing her eyes again and remembering the caress of the warm Mediterranean air kissing her skin.
    Oh, who was she kidding? She was remembering the caress of Vittorio’s lips kissing her skin. The brush of his fingers tracing lazy circles along her body. She’d never forget the intensity of his gaze or dynamic force of his desire.
    She sighed as she remembered the way her name sounded coming from his lips, cara mia , even though he hadn’t realized he’d been saying her name at all.
    Mia slammed down her coffee cup, sloshing some of the hot liquid onto the table. How could she have been so stupid? How could her heart clench from the thought of a man she’d only known a few hours? A man with whom she had no future.
    So the regret came after all.
    It had only been a couple days since she’d seen him and her body still remembered all too well the amazing way he’d made her feel. The incredible sensations he’d conjured up with his mouth and fingers. She longed for him to fill her again, to make her feel complete. She had never felt so desirable. So wanted. Even reminding herself that he thought she was someone else, didn’t stop the wanting. The grieving.
    She had to stop thinking about him. Had to stop remembering the sound of his laughter.
    The taste of his kiss. She could tell herself that he was arrogant. That he was selfish and demanding. And he was all those things. But then she remembered his concern for his father, his obvious love for his brother, his sister, his country. And she couldn’t deny the thrill that hit all the right places when he’d pushed her up against the palace wall and said he had to have her.
    Stop thinking about him! Mia grabbed a rag to wipe the spilled coffee from the table.
    At least she would be going back to work today. Her young students would keep her busy. Their energy and love of learning would help distract her. She desperately needed something to help keep her mind off deep brown eyes, thick wavy hair and talented fingers lowering the zipper of her gown.
    Mia blinked away the tears before they could fall. There would be no tears. She burned off her frustration on the table that had long since been wiped clean. She’d known what she was getting into when she’d agreed to the charade. She’d never been one to waste time worrying about what might have been. It was her own fault that she let the charming prince seduce her into his bed.
    She could understand now the worry Vittorio’s sister, Angelina, had voiced when she said that she feared falling for a man with whom she’d have no future if she dated local young men. Mia liked the young princess, and she wouldn’t wish this hollow ache on her worst enemy, much less on the sweet Angelina.
    It was time to call on that cold-blooded, practical nature her people were famous for. It was only lust she felt for Vittorio. He’d given her the best sex of her life, there was no doubt about that. It was her body that craved him. There had been sexual chemistry between them, yes, but that was all it was.
    Her mind knew that she couldn’t feel anything emotional for Vittorio. It was not possible in those few hours. If he’d made her feel special, it was only because he thought she was Birgitte. He didn’t even know who Mia Holmberg was. He didn’t care. He would be on to his next princess and forget all about their night together.
    But as Mia pulled on her heavy sweater and stepped into her warm boots, she knew she’d forever hear, “ Cara mia ,” being whispered in her ear.
     
     
    “Miss Holmberg,” young Eric said as Mia led her students down the snowy lane from the schoolhouse, “is it true your grandfather is the man who makes all the bread and cookies and cakes?”
    “He is a baker,” Mia said with a smile. “That’s the word for someone who makes bread and cookies and cakes.” Eric nodded and stuck out his tongue to catch the falling