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PR doesn’t take steps without my input.”

Guillermo’s mouth tightened, but he moved to the door to relay that instruction.

Luca drummed his fingers on his desk. This was far messier and more degrading than he’d wanted it to be, but he would owe London Connection an efficiency bonus if it worked.

It had to work. He would make it work.

“Has my sister been informed?”

“A secure line has been established.” Guillermo nodded at the landline on Luca’s desk. “The Privy Council is divided on how to react.” He looked like he’d swallowed a fish hook. “Some are alarmed and suggesting a review of the line of succession. I did try to warn you, signor. I strongly suggest Ms. Miller be returned to London—”

“I’ll speak to my sister.” With a jerk of his head, Luca dismissed him.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Sofia said. There was no ring of outrage or remnants of the secondhand embarrassment they’d both suffered after their father’s various exploits. No, there was a far deeper note of stunned comprehension in her tone.

Luca bit back trying to explain it wasn’t how he’d meant for this to happen. It was worse and he was genuinely embarrassed, but this was their chance. They had to run with it.

Also, focusing on his goal allowed him to sidestep dealing with the fact he was now the poster boy of depravity.

“You have no choice but to take this to the nanny panel,” he said gravely, using their childhood reference to the ring of advisers, now the Privy Council, which kept such a tight leash on both of them. The same ones who had insisted Luca take the throne despite Sofia being entitled to it by birth.

“My travel is already being arranged. I’ll meet with them the minute I’m home. I’ve drafted a statement that I’ll release the minute we hang up.” She paused, then asked with soft urgency, “Are you sure, Luca? Because I’m taking a very assertive stance on this. I don’t want to undermine you.”

“Sofia. Be the ruler you are. It’s what is best for Vallia. Don’t worry about me.”

“Impossible. You’re my one and only brother.” She took a steadying breath. He thought she might be choking up with emotion, but she was well practiced in keeping a cool head. She cleared her throat. Her voice was level as she continued. “I have questions that can wait, but I plan to make the case for you to stay on as my heir provided you’re willing to express your sincere regret and assurance that nothing like this will ever happen again?”

Which part? Being caught naked with a woman? Trysting with an employee? Or making love to Amy in particular?

Some nascent emotion, a grasping sense of opportunity, rose in him, but he firmly quashed it before it could become a clear desire. An intention.

Their “just once” might have turned into three times, but their connection was exposed to the entire world, and it was completely inappropriate. He didn’t want to be labeled the sort of man who took advantage of women in his employ.

“You have my word,” he said, feeling a tear inside him as he made the vow.

“Grazie. I’ll see you soon. Ti amo,” Sofia said.

“I love you, too.” Luca hung up and a cool chill washed over him, like damp air exhaled from a dark cave. It was done.

Amy hadn’t stopped shaking, even after a hot shower and too many cups of scalding coffee. The fact that she couldn’t seem to leave this room, let alone this palace or this country, didn’t help at all.

“I’ll pay for the taxi myself,” she beseeched the maid, Fabiana.

“It’s not my place to call one, signorina.” Fabiana set out ravioli tossed with gleaming cherry tomatoes and pesto. It looked as scrumptious as the fluffy omelet Amy had ignored midmorning, the focaccia she’d snubbed at lunch and the afternoon tea of crustless sandwiches and pastries she’d disregarded a few hours ago.

There was only room in her stomach for nausea. Her whole world was imploding, and she couldn’t even reach out to the best friends who had got her through a similar crisis in the past. Her Wi-Fi connection had been cut off while she’d still been reeling in shock.

Then an ultra-calm middle-aged woman had appeared and identified herself as the senior Human Resources manager for the palace. She was genuinely concerned and had urged Amy to “be honest” if her night with Luca had been coerced in any way.

Amy had insisted it was consensual, but she now wondered if she’d strengthened Luca’s position and hindered her own.

She was cold all over, sickened that she’d let this happen and angry with herself because she knew better. She had been fully aware of the potential dangers in sleeping with him, and she had gone ahead and put herself in this awful position anyway.

“My instructions are to ensure you’re as comfortable as possible,” Fabiana was saying. “Is there anything else I can bring you?”

“Hiking boots,” Amy muttered peevishly. She had already asked a million times to speak to Luca. She’d been assured he would see her as soon as he was available.

Fabiana dropped her gaze to the bedroom slippers Amy was wearing with yellow pajama pants and a silk T-shirt. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to leave on foot. Paparazzi are stalking the perimeter. Security is very tight at the moment.”

Amy hugged the raw silk shawl she’d found in the closet and wrapped around her shoulders. “Restore my Wi-Fi.” It wasn’t the first time she’d asked for that, either.

“I’ve passed along your request. I’ll mention it again.” Fabiana gave her yet another pained smile and hurried out.

Amy was so frustrated, she stomped out the doors of her lounge to the garden patio.

A security guard materialized from the shrubbery. He’d been there all day and once again held up a staying hand. “I’m sorry—”

She whirled back inside.

She needed to get back to London. She needed to know exactly how bad this was. How could she control the damage to London Connection

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