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

into the heavy dining table, causing the thick, centuries-old top to shudder as if rocked by an earthquake.
    Alessandro turned toward the carnage, ignoring his brother as he ran a finger down the wall, then inspected the battered vegetables on the floor at his feet. “Shall I order another? Perhaps one without onion?”
    Vittorio quaked with a mix of anger and bone-deep grief, but the urge to smash the rest of the apartment’s contents was diffused by Alessandro’s attitude.
    “I believe I’ve had my fill.”  
    “Just as well,” Alessandro flicked a stubborn piece of arugula from the wall. “Most of the staff have left for the evening. You won’t mind if I give this a quick wipe? Save having to call housekeeping?”
    Vittorio balled his fists, took a deep breath, then strode to the sofa, settling into it with an uncharacteristic oomph. He stared at his brother and the stained wallpaper without seeing, lost in the haze of his wretched emotions.
    “May I?” Alessandro asked some time later.
    The quiet words snapped through Vittorio like an electric shock. He blinked, realizing that the wall was now clean—though damp—and that Alessandro held Carmella’s letter aloft. Knowing the contents would go no further, he nodded.  
    A tremor went through Alessandro’s jaw as he read, but he said nothing. When he finished, he set the letter on the coffee table and took the seat opposite Vittorio.
    “What will you do?”
    “Nothing.” Vittorio answered. He rested his elbows on his knees and tented his fingers to his forehead. There was nothing to do. Carmella’s decision rendered him powerless. “And yes, I truly mean nothing . Attend the funeral. Pay my respects. But I can’t change what happened.”
    “I’ll go with you.”
    “It will likely take place in Madrid. There will be cameras. And Carmella’s family.”
    “I’ll go with you.”
    He nodded, grateful for his brother’s rare show of support. “I shouldn’t have thrown the salad at you. I apologize.”
    “You threw it at the wall. If you’d have really wanted to hit me, you would’ve.”  
    “Nevertheless, it was wrong of me.”
    “Always so formal. Fine. You’re forgiven.” He expected Alessandro to say more about the letter’s contents, or to simply leave and give Vittorio time alone with his thoughts. Instead, the younger twin said, “When it’s over, go away. Get out of here.”
    “Of course. That was my first thought.”  
    “Vittorio.” Alessandro leaned over the coffee table and grabbed Vittorio’s forearm, forcing Vittorio to meet his gaze. “I mean it. Go laze on a beach or climb a mountain. Get out of your own head. Stop being so damned responsible.”
    The idea was ludicrous enough to bring a smile to Vittorio’s face, despite the ache in his chest. “Easy for you to say. I’m responsible because it’s my duty to be responsible, but everyone expects you to disappear for weeks at a time.”
    “Exactly. I can disappear. What good is it for you to have the perfect body double if you can’t take advantage of it now and then? Go be me for awhile.” He released his grip on Vittorio’s arm and grinned. “I’ll cover for you.”  
    “Very funny.”
    “I’m serious.” Alessandro stood, spreading his arms wide. “Let’s do it. Hell, I can fool anyone into thinking I’m you.”
    “Not our parents. Or our siblings.” He shook his head at the impossibility. “Not that I’d even consider—”
    “From now until the funeral, I’ll be you. You be me. See if anyone outside the family notices. If not, then take off. No one should have to endure what’s happening to you, let alone endure it in the public eye.” He shot a pointed glance at the wallpaper. “Even you, dear brother, are not perfect, and the coming days will be harder. The media will pick apart your every utterance and facial expression. They’ll conjure up all kinds of interpretations in terms of your private life and your ability to