Princess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Italian Affair Read online

  Princess Curvy: A Curvy Girl’s Italian Affair

  by Kristabel Reed

  Copyright © 2014 by Kristabel Reed

  Smashwords Edition

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  A Wicked ePub® Original Publication

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Formatted by: CyberWitch Press

  Chapter One

  Milan, Italy

  “Vestito sexy o modesto?” Natalia Dolcini wrinkled her nose in distaste and glared at the two dresses in front of her.

  She rarely did modest. What was the point? But this was a stuffy event and most likely mind-numbingly dull, if the name of the dinner was anything to go by. After all, nothing screamed tedious like the European Financier’s Annual Banquet.

  Lips pursed, hands on her hips, she tapped her fingers along her generous curves and tried to decide which to wear. Looking over her shoulder at her housekeeper, Carlotta, Natalia silently asked her opinion.

  Carlotta pointed to the modest dress. “Sarebbe un cambiamento—”

  “Merda!” she cursed. “We must remember to speak in English.”

  Carlotta snorted. “Why must we speak in a foreign language?”

  “I told you, Carlotta,” Natalia said and returned her attention back to the dresses. “I’m making everyone at the shop speak in English. It’s my rule since I have everyone from New York to the moon working with me,” Natalia added with a wild flourish of her hands.

  “The one language they can all speak is English.” She paused and added with another laugh, “Even the green-headed Martians. So I must make sure mine is good and yours, too!”

  Natalia laughed and curled a lock of dark hair around her finger. “And have I told you how amusing it is to see Gina and Violet argue over the Queen’s English versus American English?”

  “Funny, I’m sure.” Carlotta shrugged with a scowl that clearly said it wasn’t funny. “Now, if you had been home when you were supposed to be,” she added with a cluck of her tongue, “you would have time to try them both on. But late as always.”

  “Blame the red cocktail dress at the office.” Natalia rolled her eyes. “Not me.”

  “Or should we blame the red cocktail?” Carlotta asked with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.

  Natalia rolled her shoulders and turned from the dresses hanging on porcelain hooks along the wall. The best decision she’d made in this house was to remove that useless little sitting room and fashion this dressing area. A large floor-length mirror covered one wall, and happy little birds flitted about the wallpaper that covered the other walls.

  Carlotta continued to frown at her, even as Natalia’s mind wandered from her dress choice. She’d never been so happy to hear the house phone ring as right then. Carlotta was a gem, one who often overstepped her bounds, but a gem nonetheless. She’d been with the Dolcini family for ages and considered herself a mother hen—a snarky, overbearing mother hen, in Natalia’s opinion. Despite that, Natalia loved her.

  As Carlotta answered the phone, Natalia turned back to her dresses.

  “Dolcini residenza.” Carlotta paused. “Of course, of course.” Natalia turned to look at her as she held out the phone. “Signora Marquez.”

  Her short silk robe swirling around her thighs, she continued to eye her dresses and took the phone from Carlotta. “Sabrina!” she said in genuine pleasure, then frowned. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No, nothing,” her friend assured her. “But you didn’t reconcile with Roberto, did you?”

  Confused, Natalia shook her head in one sharp movement. What did he have to do with anything?

  “Roberto, that bum!” She waved his name away as easily as she had him. “I wouldn’t allow him near me if he walked through burning glass and brought me éclairs and diamonds. I won’t speak to him!”

  Sabrina laughed, a delighted sound that made Natalia smile despite her annoyance with her ex. The ignorant man had not understood how important the year’s fashion shows were to her and had insisted—insisted!—she pay more attention to him than to her own line. Natalia curled her toes into the plush rug.

  As if that would ever happen. She may have a few more curves than those self-depriving fashionistas who look like young boys to her, but any man would be lucky to enjoy such ample curves. And she knew more than one who enjoyed them very much.

  “Well then,” her friend said with another chuckle. “Then hopefully I’m not overstepping.”

  “Overstepping? How do you mean? You can’t overstep.” Natalia wandered back to her dresses, but didn’t really see either choice. “Whatever you need, whatever you want.”

  “Since we have an extra ticket for the table, Gideon invited a friend of his.” Sabrina paused but Natalia simply waited. “If you think it’s too awkward, I can find him a ticket at another table?” Her voice rose in question.

  “No, of course not,” Natalia insisted, waving Sabrina’s concerns away. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Who is this person?”

  “A friend of Gideon’s who works for the European Union,” Sabrina said, and Natalia heard her shrug.

  Good. Maybe some of her Italian mannerisms had finally rubbed off on her friend.

  “I don’t know, he’s in finance of some kind,” Sabrina added. “It’s all probably very boring.”

  “It’s not a problem. I look forward to seeing you.” Natalia looked back at her dresses. “And please tell me you’re going to be a few minutes late because I was late leaving the office.”

  Sabrina laughed again. “I promise not to be on time.”

  “Thank you,” Natalia said. She smirked at Carlotta in triumph for her earlier chastising. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  Tossing the phone onto a chair, Natalia slowly turned back to her dresses and narrowed her eyes. Why was this so difficult? She had no one to impress, not that she ever really worried about impressing people. For reasons that escaped her, she couldn’t seem to choose.

  “Now I have a stranger to deal with,” she muttered to Carlotta, who ignored her.

  One dress was daring and sexy and the other had a more demure cut. The high-collared black silk gown had a lace skirt and a crystal belt. It was beautiful, one of her own designs, and entirely too conservative for how she felt.

  Then again, she needed these financial types at the banquet to take notice of her, and a high collar was not going to attract much in the way of second glances, was it? Not to mention, Sabrina needed to see this ivory gown.

  “But, I should wear this.” Natalia sighed dramatically and fluffed the lace skirt out. “It would be appropriate for the stiff moneyed types that’ll be there tonight.”

  It was the European Financier’s Annual Banquet after all—how daring could those bankers be? Natalia turned to Carlotta, who rolled her eyes and didn’t bother with a comment. What the hell. She’d never been demure in her life.

  “You know me too well.” Natalia stepped back and pointed to the black one. “Put that one away.”

 
; Why did she even own a demure dress?

  The ivory gown had a plunging V-neck with a chiffon overlay skirt; the raised lily pattern over the bodice framed the neckline in the most glorious and enticing manner. And of course her trademark pockets, because women needed pockets, were hidden in the seams.

  “I do like to leave an impression,” she said as she lifted the ivory gown off the hook.

  “You always do.” Carlotta disappeared into the wardrobe with the black one.

  She dressed quickly, adding a double strand of long pearls and pearl earrings and matching ivory heels with a delicate beaded lily pattern. Natalia let her wavy black hair hang freely about her shoulders; it moved in perfect waves around her face. She debated between a dark red lipstick and nude lip gloss when the front doorbell rang.

  “That’ll be Sabrina and Gideon,” she said to Carlotta, who was already on her way to answer the door. “I’ll be right down.”

  Grabbing the champagne lip gloss, Natalia dropped it in her purse, along with the other essentials—business cards, her mobile, a handful of Euros, and a charge card for emergencies. She grabbed a matching ivory wrap in fine wool, for the cool Milanese night, and headed downstairs.

  She heard Sabrina and Gideon in the front parlor, along with a deep English voice she didn’t recognize. Oh, right. Natalia had forgotten to ask who the mysterious fourth of their party was. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and shrugged. It didn’t really matter.

  Carlotta must have offered them drinks; Natalia heard the clang of her crystal as she stepped into the foyer.

  Sabrina walked out of the parlor, a bright smile already on her face. Natalia clasped her friend’s hands and kissed both her cheeks. “I love your gown!” Natalia laughed.

  It was from her Principessa Natalia line, of course, and the thick design at the hem had twining forget-me-nots against an otherwise solid navy blue gown. The color brought out Sabrina’s red hair.

  “One of your best designs,” Sabrina agreed.

  They walked into the parlor and Natalia greeted Gideon with a huge smile, “Gideon, darling, so happy to see you.” They kissed on both cheeks and she embraced him lightly.

  “I heard about your success with the fashion shows.” Gideon glanced at her sideways. “You aren’t going to run off on us, are you?”

  “Never!” Natalia chuckled. “Gideon International will always and forever have a Principessa exclusive line.”

  “Oh.” Gideon grinned and drew Sabrina closer to him. “Such sexy words she speaks.”

  Sabrina laughed up at her husband. “Say them again later, Natalia, so I can have him all hot and bothered.”

  “I’m confident you can take care of that just fine, darling.” Natalia winked at Sabrina.

  She turned away from the couple and noticed the other man in the room stood farther back, not quite in the shadows, but definitely apart from them. He set his drink down on one of the coasters and stepped forward when he noticed her attention had fallen to him.

  Natalia would swear until her last minute on this planet that her breath did not catch, her heart did not skip a beat, her stomach did not swoop, and her mind did not glaze over as she met his eyes.

  In reality, all those things did happen, she was embarrassed to realize. And she wondered, for the barest, tiniest of moments, who the strikingly handsome man was. Then she gathered herself together, put on her brightest, sexiest smile, and extended her hand. Natalia pushed that brief moment of fluster away and buried it.

  The tall man smiled and she noticed the cleft chin. His dark hair contrasted perfectly with his light skin tone. But his eyes, oh those dark eyes, drew her in. Bedroom eyes. He reminded her of Cary Grant, in the sexiest, best way possible, all debonair and polished.

  “And this must be the mysterious financier Sabrina said was going to join us.” Her grin widened as he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Natalia Dolcini.”

  “Principessa Dolcini,” the mystery man offered with a slight bow of his head. His lips widened and his eyes sparkled with humor.

  “An old title I dusted off for my work,” Natalia said. She tried not to let the feel of his lips against her skin be more than that, but couldn’t quite help wondering how his mouth would feel on other parts of her body. “Natalia will do,” she added in a voice that was decidedly not breathless.

  “Adam Clayworth,” he said, finally releasing her hand. “And I’m afraid I’m not very mysterious.”

  “Oh, but you carry that air.” She grinned. “It must be the financier part. Which is a good thing—we wouldn’t want the entire world to know where we keep our money.”

  “No.” Adam laughed. “No we wouldn’t.”

  “We should get going,” Gideon said in a voice that Natalia didn’t recognize.

  She looked from him to Sabrina, but they seemed wrapped up in their own world. Natalia narrowed her eyes. Sabrina looked entirely too innocent. But then Adam offered his arm and she threaded hers through it.

  The car ride from her townhouse to the banquet wasn’t long. The old stone building was historically a finance center and seemed appropriate for the current gathering. The six hundred or so attendees milled around the renovated interior, with its glasses of champagne and little canapés against the backdrop of paintings from most of the masters and woodwork commissioned by the great families of Northern Italy.

  Natalia smiled at Adam as he held out her chair, and together they suffered through several boring speeches before and during dinner. At first, she kept conversation between them purely business, asking after his role with the EU and commenting on the spring fashion weeks that had just passed.

  Engrossed in each other, they ignored the rest of the gathering. As her conversation with Adam shifted from business to the personal, Natalia realized she’d talked more about her designs than she’d planned to. When Adam talked of his job with the EU, she realized they had more in common than a friendship with Sabrina and Gideon. They had a deep love for their work as well.

  Most people tended to talk about art or movies, books or places they’d traveled. Natalia found it rare to find another who loved his work as much as she loved hers. Fascinated, she leaned in further and thought how sad it was that those other people how hated what they did.

  And how lucky for her that she’d seemingly found a delicious looking man who understood love for their work.

  She cheekily grinned at him and held out her hand. “Dance with me?”

  He led her to the dance floor where the orchestra played the standard romantic waltzes, and gathered her close. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt around Adam, how well they moved together over the dance floor, how easily her curves fit against his body. Natalia struggled to keep some semblance of distance between them.

  They moved easily across the dance floor for several minutes before she asked, “How are you enjoying Milan?”

  “It’s a stunning city,” Adam said in that smooth, deep voice that she’d enjoyed all night. “Rich in beauty and intrigue.

  The way he gazed at her, with those impossibly dark eyes, the way he pulled her closer, Natalia clearly heard the undercurrents in his words. She knew her city, knew Milan was exactly as he described it. And knew, without a doubt, that Adam also spoke of her.

  She couldn’t stop the shiver at his words, his look, and didn’t want to. Natalia offered a slow, seductive smile and moved just that much closer. She brushed against his chest as her tongue traced her bottom lip. Subtly had never been one of her gifts.

  “Yes,” she said softly, making sure to answer both his meanings. “Milan attracts the most interesting sorts. The kind that fly in and take advantage of her secrets.”

  “I’m sure,” he said, and his voice positively rumbled through her, “visitors to this exceptional city have a hard time forgetting her.”

  “We like to think so,” she agreed, her voice even softer.

  She watched his gaze flick from her eyes to her lips, linger there, and move back to her
own gaze. She saw a flare of passion in his look and moved her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

  Scraping her nails through the short hair there, Natalia watched his eyes darken and felt an answering arousal. Who knew financial banquets could be so very interesting?

  He wasn’t unaffected, she saw that clear enough. Adam Clayworth might be interested in Milan, but he was also very interested in her. The song changed but they continued to dance, moving perfectly together along the dance floor and ignoring the outside world.

  Adam led them along the back edges, but apparently it wasn’t far enough. From the corner of her eye, Natalia saw a man who seemed determined to gain Adam’s attention.

  “It seems someone is beckoning you.”

  “What?” he asked in that same low, dark voice. But he looked up and saw the other man. With his lips pressed together in a clear sign of annoyance, Adam reluctantly stepped back. He took her hand, kissed the back of it again, and nodded to her.

  “Forgive me.” His voice was apologetic, but his eyes burned into her. “Allow me to escort you back to the table?”

  “That’s not necessary,” she told him with a slight inclination of her head. “I’m going to go freshen up.”

  Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as Natalia made her way to the ladies’ room. Maybe it was just as well Adam had business to attend to; she’d never reacted to a man the way she did to him.

  And in so short a time, mere moments after lying eyes on him. The spark between them enticed her, made her feel reckless, and yet continued to draw her to him.

  They’d spent the majority of the dinner talking about everything. She’d ignored those backers she’d wanted to lure into investing so she could expand Principessa Natalia. Snapping open her purse, Natalia reapplied her lip gloss, checked her makeup, ran her fingers through her hair, and resolved to forget Adam Clayworth. Or at least ignore him for the rest of the evening so she could get work done.

  As she exited the ladies’ room, she scanned the room for Jean Paul. He was a difficult man to miss, despite being her height and rather plain looking. But he was a savvy investor who enjoyed fine wine and parties, and always had a crowd gathered around him.