Slow Tango With a Prince (Royal Scandals) by Nicole Burnham Read Free Book Online

dead wrong about a woman before and it had almost cost him everything. No reason to think his gut would be right now.  
    The light on the electronic panel froze on the third floor. Vittorio ran a hand through his hair in frustration and willed the elevator to move so Emily wouldn’t have the opportunity to study him again. He’d have been better off if he’d turned and walked out of the apartment the moment he’d seen her in the kitchen. But when he’d rounded the corner from the living room and noticed her standing alone with her eyes closed, a heady mixture of beauty and vulnerability, he couldn’t resist approaching her. It wasn’t until he’d taken those few steps forward that he’d realized her presence couldn’t be coincidence.
    He could kick himself for failing to call Maria Cappalli as soon as he’d left the restaurant this morning. The Royal Police Chief Investigator would have run a quick background check on Emily, and he’d have known in minutes whether his breakfast companion was who and what she claimed.
    He punched the button again a split second before he heard the click of the apartment door. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Emily now stood behind him. A few painful seconds ticked off before she spoke, a slight tremor edging her words. “I wanted to let you go ahead, but I couldn’t stall any longer without looking suspicious. The agent needed to do her final walk-through before locking up.”
    He said nothing, despite the temptation to mock her use of the word “suspicious,” keeping his attention focused on the elevator panel. When the doors finally swished to admit them, he propped open one side with his arm and gestured for Emily to enter.
    “No, I can wait.”
    “Get in,” he ground out, allowing himself a quick look at her. Though she stood tall, shoulders back and proud, pinkish streaks tinged her cheeks and her eyes were bright with restrained tears. She paused, considering, then strode past him into the mirrored, walnut-inlaid carriage.
    He shouldn’t have looked. Her defiant, I-can-handle-anything demeanor reminded him of his sister, Sophia.
    Once inside the elevator, he turned away from her and hit the button for the ground floor. They were nearly to street level when she spoke again, her voice steadier this time. “If it makes any difference, I’m sorry. I thought I was doing what was best for the show and for my employees. I didn’t mean to intrude. The rest of my team doesn't know I’m here. Other than Rita, who was eating breakfast with me this morning, they don’t even know you exist. So I promise, you won’t have to worry about seeing me—or anyone from my show—again.”
    Good to know—assuming she told the truth—but he only tipped his head in response.
    The elevator reached the ground floor with a light bounce, then the doors opened. Once again, Vittorio moved to the side so Emily could exit before him. Much as this woman drove him to distraction, certain acts were ingrained from birth.
    “Thank you,” she said as he moved ahead of her to hold open the glass door leading out to the street. “You're very polite.”
    “And apparently a rotten judge of character,” he muttered as he blinked against the bright sunshine. The walkways of the popular neighborhood had thickened with the noontime crowd while he’d been indoors. Many moved purposefully in the direction of the neighborhood’s shops and restaurants, while others carried bagged sandwiches and drinks in search of an open bench in one of the area’s many parks.
    He was about to turn to walk down the sidewalk, heading whichever way Emily Sinclair was not, when she surprised him with a quick, “You’re right. You are.”
    At what must have been a look of astonishment on his face, she planted a fist against her hip. There was no sign of the threatening tears he’d noticed a few minutes earlier. Much like Sophia, Emily seemed to rally in the face of a challenge. “Look, I was wrong to