href="#u18458f0b-a74e-5be4-aaae-09b441467764"> CHAPTER TWELVE
Susan Stephens
Claiming his one-night baby
Callie Smith gave up everything to care for her alcoholic father. After his death, she’s finally able to follow her own dreams. And what better way to celebrate than by spending an out-of-character—but outrageously sinful—night with gorgeous Italian prince Luca Fabrizio?
To preserve his family dynasty, Luca was planning to marry a convenient bride—until Callie reveals the consequences of their heated encounter! Having just taken back her freedom, Callie refuses to wear his ring. To legitimize his heir, Luca must persuade her that life in his royal bed will be more pleasurable than she can possibly imagine!
For my most excellent editor Megan,
who is a joy to work with.
AS FUNERALS WENT, this was as grand as it got. As tradition demanded Luca, who was now the ruling Prince, arrived last, to take his place of honour in the packed cathedral. He was seated in front of the altar beneath a cupola with images painted by Michelangelo. Towering bronze doors to one side were so stunningly crafted they were known as the ‘gateway to paradise’. Tense with grief, Luca was aware of nothing but concern that he’d pulled out all the stops for a man to whom he owed everything. Flags were flown at half-mast across the principality of Fabrizio. Loyal subjects lined the streets. Flowers had been imported from France. The musicians were from Rome. A procession of priceless horse-drawn carriages drew dignitaries from across the world to the cathedral. Luca’s black stallion, Force, drew his father’s flag-draped coffin on a gun carriage with the Prince’s empty boots reversed in the stirrups. It was a poignant sight, but the proud horse held his head high, as if he knew his precious cargo was a great man on his final journey.
As the new ruler of the small, but fabulously wealthy principality of Fabrizio, Luca, the man the scandal sheets still liked to call ‘the boy from the gutters of Rome’, was shown the greatest respect. He’d moved a long way from those gutters. Innate business acumen had made him a billionaire, while the man he was burying today had made him a prince. This magnificent setting was a long way from the graffiti-daubed alleyways of Luca’s childhood where the stench of rotting rubbish would easily eclipse the perfume of flowers and incense surrounding him today. The peeling plaster and flyposting of those narrow alleyways replaced by exquisite gothic architecture, the finest sculpture, and stained glass. In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined becoming a prince. As a