Free Beauty and the Reclusive Prince by Raye Morgan Page B

probably had in her huge blue eyes and it killed him. But he couldn’t weaken.
    “Please hear me out—”
    “No, I won’t allow it. It’s too dangerous.”
    It was her turn to make that sound of exasperation. “Dangerous? What’s dangerous about it?”
    “You fell into the river, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, but that was because it was the middle of the night and you scared me.”
    He nodded. “Exactly. These things are always…accidents.” He should just hang up and he knew it. He tried. But somehow, it just seemed too cruel.
    “Why?” Her voice sharpened, as though she’d suddenly found the hint of a chink in his argument. “Why are you so sure I’ll get hurt? Has anyone actually been hurt in that river?”
    His throat choked shut for a moment. This was something he couldn’t talk about. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to steady his resolve. The consequences were too risky to gamble with.
    There was a part of him, in a deep, secret place, that halfway believed there was an evil force lurking by the river, waiting to trap another woman—especially one that he had some affection for—and pull her under the water as well. There was another, more rational part of him that contended the evil force was his own sense of guilt. Which side was right? It wasn’t worth putting it to the test.
    “Isabella, I forbid you to go anywhere near that hillside. And the river. Stay away.”
    “But—”
    “Promise me.” His voice was harsh and stern. He had to make sure she didn’t feel she could come on her own.
    She swallowed hard. He could hear the effort she was making but that didn’t matter. He steeled himself. It had to be done.
    “All right,” she said at last in a very small voice. “I’ll stay away. At least I’ll stay away until I can find a way to convince you—”
    “You’re not going to convince me. I’m changing this number, remember?”
    “But, Max…”
    He winced. Hearing his name in her voice sent a quiver through him, a sense of something edgy that he didn’t like at all. Given a little time, it would chip away at his resolve, bit by bit.
    “Goodbye, Isabella,” he said firmly.
    She sighed. “Goodbye.”
    Her voice had a plaintive quaver that touched his heart, but he hung up anyway. He had to. Another moment or two and he’d have been giving in to her, and that was something that couldn’t happen.
    This entire connection had to end. He couldn’t afford the time and emotional effort involved in maintaining a relationship, even on the phone. He had work to do.
    But returning to his research was hopeless at this point. Instead, he rose, grabbed his towel and headed for the fully equipped gym he’d had built into half of the whole ground level of the building. It was obvious he was going to have to fight harder to push Isabella Casali out of his system.

CHAPTER FIVE
    I SABELLA fought back tears of frustration as she clicked off her phone connection to the palazzo.
    “There go any hopes of a career in negotiations,” she muttered to herself. “Turns out I’m not any better at that than I am at breaking and entering.”
    Hardly a surprise, but disappointing anyway. What now? Giving up wasn’t an option. One look at her half-empty restaurant told her that. She was going to have to find another way. But how? She’d promised him she wouldn’t go near the hillside or the river and she was going to keep that promise, much as it hurt.
    But there had to be a way to breach those high walls in a more effective manner. Someone in the village had to have dealings with the palazzo. It didn’t make sense that they would import everything from Rome. Slowly, carefully, she began to ask around. At first all she got were blank stares.
    And then, finally, she hit pay dirt of a sort. Much to her surprise, the man who delivered seafood to her restaurant every morning also made a stop at the Rossi palazzo once or twice a week.
    “Only on Tuesdays and Fridays,” he told her