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

govern.”
    “I’ve always acted professionally, and I’ll do so now.”
    “Until life hands you a bowl of onions at the wrong time.” Alessandro barreled on, despite the threatening glare Vittorio gave him. “I’ve never seen you lose your temper, even when we were little. Go. Live my life for a few weeks. Trust me, it’ll help you refocus. It’ll make you a better…well, you . And it’ll be better for the country in the long run if you get all that angst out of your system.”
    “First, I don’t have angst —”  
    “Or a complete set of china.”
    “—and second, it’s impossible.” He flattened his hands on the coffee table and took a deep breath. “Even if I wanted to do it, you couldn’t be me for the funeral.”
    Alessandro’s eyes glittered with the realization Vittorio was considering the possibility. Vittorio didn’t deny it. Despite its ridiculousness, the idea held its allure. Vittorio wasn’t one to lose his temper. His control was a point of pride, and the tidal wave of emotion that caused the breach in his control…he had to stem it. Somehow. Because Alessandro was right. If Vittorio stayed, he couldn’t simply lie low, not without raising questions, which meant he’d be faced with Carmella’s betrayal over and over again for the next few weeks. A betrayal so deep and personal only he and Alessandro—and God forbid, possibly a coroner in Madrid—knew of it.  
    How would he react when faced with endless inquiries from reporters, reporters who didn’t—and couldn’t—know the full extent of Vittorio’s anguish?
    For the next few hours, they talked about the logistics. About the insanity of it. About the strain on Vittorio and ramifications for the country if they didn’t. How they’d convince their parents to go along with the plan. Then for two weeks before Carmella’s funeral, during the investigation into her suicide and the resulting media attention, Vittorio stayed out of sight as Alessandro took his place, acting the role of the polished crown prince. A minor snag occurred when Alessandro stood a hair too close to a French pop singer and shot her a flirtatious smile during a palace garden party, but thankfully Sophia noticed and interrupted before Alessandro’s slip was caught by a photographer.
    Much as Vittorio loved women, he didn’t flirt with the devilish flair of his brother. Vittorio considered his approach to be more straightforward and refined. Appreciative of a woman, her intelligence, and her unique personality traits…not merely her figure or the ease with which he might get her into bed, which seemed to be Alessandro’s priorities.
    But Alessandro handled the funeral itself with aplomb. No one knew that the brothers, sitting side by side in the rain, had switched places. That it was Alessandro, rather than Vittorio, who went to the podium and spoke the heartfelt words Vittorio had prepared for the emotional event.
    Two days after the service, Vittorio left, a thick scarf over his face and wool cap covering his head as he took a late evening ferry to Italy, then an overnight train to Vienna where he boarded a flight to Montreal. No one was the wiser. After a few days in Montreal, he made his way to Buenos Aires, simply because it was the most interesting city he spotted on the airport’s departure list and there were seats available.
    All thanks to onions.
    During the first two weeks he considered going home more than once, certain he and Alessandro would be found out. He changed his accommodations nightly, keeping to less popular hotels and apartment rentals so he wouldn’t be noticed. Used different names, kept a disposable cell phone, and only answered calls from Alessandro. Grew out his facial hair and chose clothing that wouldn’t give away his wealth or status, ensuring he could blend into any crowd. Avoided restaurants and museums frequented by the glitterati or recommended by Italian-language travel guides, given that tourists of Italian and