Ways To Ruin A Royal Reputation (Mills & Boon Modern) (Signed, Sealed…Seduced, Book 1) by Dani Collins (best ebook reader ubuntu .txt) 📗

deep concern for his well-being. Admiration for his principles and intelligence and laconic wit. It was a compulsion to trust him with all of her secrets and a depthless yearning for him to return her regard.

The words clogged her throat, but it was too soon. Too public. Too new.

But as they continued dancing, she thought it with each step.

I love you. I love you.

The next days were busy.

Luca was in meetings to redefine his new role and Amy worked remotely, attempting to mitigate the damage her scandal had done to London Connection and her career.

She rarely had Luca to herself, and when she did, it was in bed. There they communicated in ways that were as profound as any conversation she might have wished to have, so she didn’t worry that they weren’t dissecting their relationship. It was growing stronger by the day.

The unrelenting media pressure only pushed them to rely on one another, rather than rending them apart. If an awkward question was directed at her, his hand would come out of nowhere to interlace with hers. When his bearing grew rife with tension over a late-night pundit’s joke at his expense, she would slide her arms around his waist, asking nothing except that he allow her to soothe him. He would sigh and gather her in.

This morning he had commented to someone, “I’m likely to be in London for the next while—”

It had been part of a broader discussion, and she hadn’t had an opportunity to ask if that meant he wanted to continue their relationship. They had agreed on two weeks, but she didn’t need to do any soul-searching. Of course, she wanted to keep seeing him!

They were both in love. She was sure of it. If that put a dreamy, smitten look on her face, she couldn’t help it.

Perhaps that’s why she was garnering so many stares right now.

Or maybe it was because this morning, she and Luca had been granted an exclusive visit to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden to view their cherry blossoms with some Japanese dignitaries. A handful of photographers had followed them, and those shots were likely being published right now.

Either way, her phone, which was facedown on the table and set to silent, was vibrating incessantly.

She ignored it and kept her attention on Luca. He spoke at the podium, switching back and forth between Italian and Japanese so she missed much of what he was saying. She could tell there was praise for collaboration and innovation on some tech solution commissioned for Vallia. He showed a photo of a port in Vallia, then one here in Japan, highlighting some advancement that had made a difference in both countries.

One of Luca’s handlers stood behind him. The young man sent her an urgent glare.

Seriously? He could hear the buzz of her phone all the way over there?

She slid the phone off the table without looking at it and dropped it into her bag.

She had the sense of more glances turning her way, but reminded herself that a few rude stares were a small price to pay for the absolute wonder of being Luca’s... They didn’t need a label, she assured herself. None of the usual ones fit them anyway. “Girlfriend” was too high school. “Lover” was too edgy for a prince, “mistress” too eye-rollingly outdated.

Luca had been footing her bills since she’d met him. Even her charge from the hotel boutique in London had been reversed. Apparently, he’d had the clothes she’d bought that day put onto his own account.

That made her uncomfortable, but she pulled her weight in other ways. She was still managing the pajama campaign and offered constructive ideas to his team on how she and Luca were presenting themselves. They were equals.

Luca came to the good part, announcing a pair of names and the company they represented. Everyone clapped as a husband-wife team rose to collect the statuette Luca held.

The audience took advantage of the applause break to set their heads together and murmur, flicking speculative glances toward her. Luca joined his assistant behind the winners and glanced at the screen his assistant showed him.

He stiffened and his gaze lifted in a flash to hit hers like a punch.

Amy’s stomach clenched. What?

As the couple at the podium finished speaking and left, they seemed disconcerted by the growing undercurrents in the room.

The cameraman who’d been filming the event turned his lens on her. A reporter shoved a microphone in Amy’s face.

“Is it true? Did you cause a teacher to lose his position with Upper Swell School for Girls? Do you have a history of destroying men’s lives?”

CHAPTER TEN

LUCA DISAPPEARED OFF the stage behind the curtain, abandoning her to the reckoning of harsh stares and harsher questions.

As Amy was absorbing the profound pain of his desertion, another reporter joined the first. People stared while she desperately tried to gather her handbag and light jacket, which was being pinned by a reporter. On purpose.

Panic began to compress her lungs. She struggled to maintain her composure. She was hot and cold and scared. As scared as she’d been the day she was told to leave the school and had no idea where she would go.

Do not cry. Do not, she willed herself while her throat closed over a distressed scream.

And these damned buzzards kept asking their cruel questions.

“Did you lure the prince into that nude photograph? Did someone hire you to do it? His sister?”

One of Luca’s bodyguards shoved into the fray and shielded her with his wide body and merciless bulk. He grabbed her things and escorted her out of the nearest exit, but it was still a gauntlet of shouted questions and conjecture.

When he shoved her into an SUV, Luca was already in it. His PA sat facing him; his other bodyguard was in the front. The bodyguard who had rescued her took the seat facing her and pulled the door shut behind them.

“Is it true?” Luca asked stiffly. She hadn’t seen this particular shade of subdued rage under