Offended by her attempt to compensate, Roberto informed her, “Signorina Easton, your generosity isn’t necessary. No gratuities at the palace. We are salaried royal employees to the House of Tittoni.”
“Oh.” Well, excuuuse me, I didn’t get the House of Tittoni memo.
He glanced at his wristwatch. “The prince dines at eight. Stay in your quarters until sunset. Take a siesta, rest or sunbathe, but please be ready when I come for you at a quarter to.”
Frustrated that he still expected her to wait for the prince, Lex didn’t have any intentions to dine with the royal. “I told you, the last boat circles back in less than two hours.” Glancing at her father’s scratched Rolex hanging loose from her wrist, she croaked, “Correction, ninety minutes.” What was she thinking? She’d never make it. “I’ll meet with the prince now. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have no choice.”
“Hmm…” Motionless and nonresponsive, Roberto stood still.
“If you can’t show me where he swims, I’ll find my own way.”
There was a long pause as the butler deciphered how to respond to her demands. Then he put out, “Signorina Easton, I don’t think you’re being wise. Let me see if I can get His Majesty’s attention and have him come here. Per favore wait inside, I’ll ring your room in a few minutes with an update. If you need anything, press the zero on the bedroom phone. Good luck, Signorina Easton.”
“Thank you.” She settled as he closed her door.
After fourteen hours flying, boating and walking, she stood by herself. She put her luggage on the oversized bed, causing the plush satin cover to crinkle beneath its weight. Walking over to the sink, she splashed cold water on her face and checked her iPhone for messages.
Vive ranted on and on via a borderline soliloquy style text message, livid she didn’t receive an invite to go to Italy with Lex.
Lex figured her mother must’ve told Vive. Uhhh, everyone in Manhattan will know where I am by today’s end. She texted, “call U LTR xo.”
Five minutes turned to fifteen and then to thirty. With less than an hour to get to the boat she grew panicked. Lex reached for the phone and rang for Roberto. No answer. She’d have to take fate into her own hands and go find the prince. The go out and get ’em approach worked for her life’s mantra. She hoped this wouldn’t be a fashion battle and asked herself if she was ready? Absofrickinlutely. Lex pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and opened the door. It’s time to get my fashion designer phalanges on what I came for.
* * * * *
“Heehee, Luigi, ohhha, Luigi!!!”
Lex followed the laughter and water sounds growing louder as she rounded the manor. She noticed a wrought iron gate with a plaque, Giardinopiscina. “Garden pool,” it read if she remembered her Italian. She inhaled again, enjoying the blossoms’ smell, hoping the ambrosial scent would calm her nerves.
She pushed the gate open and froze at what stared at her. Fuck me in Fendi.
Three young women—with “just what the doctor ordered” breasts and oversized pouting lips—floated in the water. Striking. They were playing with a man Lex heard them call Luigi, who smiled ear to ear.
One woman ran her red manicured fingernails up and down his chest, kissing him. Another was behind him, massaging his shoulders, and the third—she kept going underwater, and with each dive his smile grew wide.
Lex recalled the brazen woman getting her rocks off on the yacht and wondered if lasciviousness floated in the air. For a moment, she allowed herself to wish she could be as free spirited as these ladies, who knew how to enjoy themselves. But then, as usual, her priorities took over. Lex would do what she’d come for and then head to Milan, leaving this wantonness behind.
On the pool’s side lay a shirtless hunk, each massive pectoral dusted in a black hair brush stroke glistening in the sunlight. His privates were sorta covered by a towel.
Bored and perhaps annoyed at the sexual activities on display, he didn’t pay attention.
Along with Luigi, the women paused their sexscapade and stood in the water staring at Lex. Their tits saluted her at twelve o’clock, poised in wetness resembling crème dollops topping calorie rich pudding.
Happy with her own cleavage, she noted the gifts floating in the water were not from Mother Nature. Mine are natural, girls. Enjoy.
The women whispered to each other, then glanced at Luigi who shouted, “Principe.”
Distracted by a strawberry he brought to his mouth, the prince didn’t notice her. But she saw him, those perfect, sensual, full lips and the way his tongue slid out to catch the berry. He popped it in his mouth. Incredible.
Holding her breath, Lex stepped closer, right up to the hedonistic hearth. Why did the sunshine spotlight on her center stage? No monologue prepared, she didn’t think about what she’d say in a situation such as this one. Lex felt sensory overload. It would take every ounce left in her to stay focused on the Easton business at hand, not the Tittoni pleasure around her. Calm your kitty.
At last, the Adonis glanced up and dropped another ruby fruit’s helping into his mouth. He stood, wrapping a Turkish towel around his narrow hips. The white cotton stretched similar to canvas, ready for a Grecian painter to color something fantastic. “Sì è persa?” he asked as he approached her.
Holy Coco Chanel! Okay, hotter in person than she’d seen in the tabloid photos or blogs—her dildo fantasies couldn’t have imagined—and she’d tried her best. But she’d come here to get her fabrics. She didn’t have time for Mediterranean sunbathing. Her boat would be on the dock in less than an hour and she needed her textiles.
“You must be Prince Massimo Tittoni,” she responded in English. She felt her cheeks tingle with a spark. Excitement waved as heat ran down her breasts, stopping at her pussy. A fierce siren intensified, one which made her want to reach down and touch her clit. She crossed her legs while standing, hoping, praying he’d be clueless as to why.
“Sì. And you’re the fashion designer—” His attempt to tuck in the towel failed and it became loose, revealing his massive cock’s shape. It was decorated with a mighty helmet head for the tip—confirmation the blog’s photos, indeed, were real.
Moist legs clenching tighter, she rolled her shoulders back, raw arousal soaking her panties. Not wishing to make her admiration obvious, Lex focused on his black eyes. She inhaled a shallow breath and walked forward.