I told the voice to shut up. None of that mattered. Kat had told me once that she wouldn’t research Nico online because she didn’t want someone else’s opinion to change how she saw him.
Not me. After Kat’s accident, as I sat next to her hospital bed, I looked up every single thing I could about the royals. Especially Nico and Dante. I devoured every story, every article, looked at hundreds of pictures. I wanted to be informed. And it was then and there that I knew nothing could ever happen between Dante and me, given his propensity to flit from one supermodel to the next.
I knew what life would be like with him. So many of my mother’s friends looked the other way while their husbands ran around with women half their age. Everyone felt sorry for the wives, but they wouldn’t leave—either because of the money or the children or the public embarrassment. If I was with Dante, my humiliation would be on an international scale. I’d be a worldwide laughingstock. I couldn’t deal.
He’d already proven himself to be a player the night after the accident. I saw him in the hallway flirting with one of Kat’s nurses. I was worried about my best friend staying alive, and he was trying to get some. I was wildly attracted to him, but I was always wildly attracted to men who seemed intent on ruining my life, and did. Every man I had ever dated had cheated on me. As part of my resolution to treat myself better, I decided to keep him at arm’s length.
And I had to remember that flirting was as natural to him as breathing. He couldn’t help himself. But he was so well practiced that he often seemed sincere, and I had to constantly remind myself that it was all an act.
An act that would be easier to ignore if he didn’t look like a movie star.
When I had showed my sorority sisters pictures from my Christmas vacation in Monterra, most of them had begged for the cell numbers of Dante and his identical twin, Rafe. One of my sisters had dubbed the twins “the faces that launched a thousand sighs.” I couldn’t argue with her over that one. They probably would have begged for Nico’s number too, but I told them all that he was with Kat and I was determined that nothing would change that.
Someone had asked how I could tell the twins apart, to which my friend Jenna had said, “Why would you need to? Who cares? Date both!” After I had glared at Jenna, I explained that beyond the obvious—Rafe wore glasses and Dante didn’t—their personalities were total opposites. Dante was fun and flirtatious, Rafe more serious and reserved. There was a deep sadness behind Rafe’s eyes, even when he laughed and teased. I asked Kat once if she’d ever noticed it and she’d said no—which was probably due to the fact that she spent all her time looking at Nico. Not that I could blame her.
My pulse raced and my heart throbbed from Dante’s nearness, so I reminded myself of the one thing that should make every inner voice go silent and my knees hold still.
I was engaged.
Engaged and getting married in only six short weeks. Sterling and I had agreed to get married the weekend after the show had finished filming.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Dante asked. “And why are you carrying a dress?”
I hated that he could tell right away that something was going on. I didn’t like feeling like he knew me. “There’s a girl in the bathroom who knows you’re a prince, and I had to do something to keep her there until I could tell someone on the production team.”
“So you disrobed her?” This amused him way too much.
“I couldn’t think of another way to keep her away from the other girls,” I said, walking away, determined to find Taylor and leave Dante with whoever was supposed to be babysitting him.
“Don’t be defensive. It was very clever of you.” He paused. Though I was practically running, he had no problem keeping stride with me. “Is this a new rule?”
“Is what a new rule?” I asked over my shoulder. It was easier to control my attraction when I didn’t look directly at him. It didn’t eliminate my symptoms entirely, but it did help.
“Does this mean that anytime you do something I don’t want you to do, I can take your clothes?” I stopped. He’d asked the question so innocently, but my skin immediately flushed in response and I couldn’t look him in the eye.