He had them circumventing the pool before taking one of the passageways that ran parallel to the groves and ended up at the edge of the beach. He suddenly stopped.

She rocked on her heels as he dropped to his haunches. Before she could process his action, he took her hands, placed them on his shoulders. She gaped as he lifted her right foot off the ground. Breath deserted her as he so slowly, so gently slid off her high-heeled sandal strap. The sandal fell off her suddenly stinging foot into his hand. Her toes curled, a gasp tearing from her. He looked up, noted her distress. Then he closed his hand over her foot, raised it, his lips parting, filling with sensuality.

He was going to…to…She couldn’t let him or she’d…she’d…

She lost her balance, forced him to let her regain her footing. She leaned heavily on his shoulders so she wouldn’t keel over him, electricity roaring from where her fingertips clutched their daunting power to zap incapacitation throughout her nervous system. He pressed her hands harder to his shoulders before repeating the de-sandaling ritual on her other foot.

When she was sure she would faint, he let her foot down, rose, bent and took his own sneakers off, placed them at the sand’s edge with her sandals and spread his arm, inviting her to walk on.

She stumbled forward a few steps before she gasped, stopped.

The feeling of the powdered gold beneath her feet, its warmth and complex texture, its gritty softness, its resilient malleability heightened her sensory tumult.

He turned her toward him, his gaze solicitous. “Did you step on something? Are you hurt?”

Before she could answer he swooped down again, inspected one foot then the other, feeling for injuries or foreign bodies.

An uproar swept through her at his action, at the sight of his eyebrows drawn and his head bent in such concentration, the severely trimmed raven luxury of his mane gleaming copper in the sun as his perfectly formed fingers traced over her soles.

She was about to cry out that she was fine, when he heaved up to his feet, and in the same movement swept her up in his arms.

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She went limp with shock.

He’d never touched her before. She hadn’t even let him shake her hand. She thought she knew how dangerous it would be to have any physical contact with him. She’d known nothing. Feeling his flesh pressed on hers, his heat and scent invading her senses…it was too much.

She choked out, “Put me down—I’m OK.”

He frowned. “Then why did you jerk to a stop like that? Why did you look so…distressed?”

“I was just…surprised. I—I’ve never felt anything like this.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’ve never felt sand beneath your feet?”

She gulped, shook her head. “I…no.”

“You’ve lived most of your life on a Mediterranean island legendary for its sea and shores. How is it possible you never ran barefoot on the beach? Never swam in the sea?”

“I…uh…just didn’t. The sea hasn’t been part of my life.”

“How was it even avoidable? Going to the beach is part of most people’s childhoods, especially in seaside countries.”

Her discomfort rose with every word. She wanted this conversation, and what it made her think of, what it could reveal, to be over. “I’m not ‘most people.’”

“You mean because you’re royal? That doesn’t make sense. Durante and Paolo have both told me they spent much of their childhoods soaking in the sea and baking in the sun. And on Castaldini, royals aren’t pursued and encroached on as they are in other countries. Even if you had been, your father could have provided a private beach for your use.”

“I—I sunburn easily. I spent most of my childhood inside the palace. I’m almost always indoors, even now.”

His gaze sluiced over her like silky, warm water, lingering on each inch of visible skin, making her want to moan with the pleasure of his visual caress. “Your skin is the finest and softest that I’ve ever seen. Or touched.” His lids grew heavier as he smoothed the expanse of skin where her jacket and the formfitting top beneath it had ridden up at her back. She stiffened with the blow of sensation. He gathered her more securely to him. “But it isn’t the type prone to sunburning. In fact, I think you’d tan spectacularly.”

His compliment went straight to her every hunger and vulnerability. Confusion over his motivation gave way to intense pleasure and self-consciousness. “I probably got badly burned once, when I was too young to remember. That and an overprotective mother kept me indoors from then on.”

He gave her a long look, eloquent with disbelief. Out loud he said, “And you just agreed? You didn’t want to rebel, seek all the freedoms and pleasures the sea has to offer? Doesn’t sound like the Clarissa D’Agostino I know.”

“Uh…you have a very rosy picture of the life of a princess.”

“You mean I can’t appreciate the impositions you had, and still have to put up with, as part and parcel of your status?” She braced herself for the frustration his next words would provoke. Everyone, especially men, had always said they understood how it had been for her, had tried to…console her for being such a poor, oppressed royal girl. His next words sent her preconceptions scattering. “No, I can’t. I can only imagine some of them. But, since I never thought running on the beach and swimming in the sea were among the things you had to forgo, I must have imagined quite wrong. Even if I didn’t, only you can speak of your experience.”

She blinked back hot tears. He had understood. Something she’d never thought she’d ever feel toward him spread its balmy coolness inside her chest: thankfulness.

She bit her lip, nodded. “Whatever the reason, I never developed any fascination for the sea.”

“You’re fascinated now.”

She tore her gaze away from his all-knowing one, cast it wide.

He was right. She’d never felt this thrill at witnessing what had always been there since she’d been born. She felt she was experiencing it all with new senses. With a few word of soul-searing insight, he’d made her realize the deprivation she’d suffered, of something so rich with pleasures, so available to anyone. Just being so close to him, his hands hugging her behind her knees and back, her palm still resting over his heart feeling it pumping steadily, as if he hadn’t covered half a mile of beach with her in his arms, had made her…Dio, she was still in his arms!




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