His Royal Pleasure (6 page)

Katherine shifted and stretched, reaching for his shoulders.

“What's wrong?”

Frustration warred with fear. She wanted this to be over. “You're too tall.”

He groaned but bent slightly to accommodate her, and she hitched herself up. She pressed her face into his neck for just a moment, relishing the security.

Al felt her breath against his skin. Her breasts plastered to his back, and her thighs molded to his hard hips. It was as close as she'd ever been to him, and it was all wrong. They shouldn't be up here. They should be in bed. On a table. On the floor. Hell, he wasn't picky. He'd even risk the discomfort of sand for her.

He sensed her fear. “You don't have to finish this if you don't want to.”

“Yes, I do,” she said through gritted teeth, slowly moving her feet to either side of his hips. “It's just that the ground is farther away than I planned.”

Al licked his lips to keep from grinning. He bit his tongue. He would not say “I told you so.”

“And don't you dare say I told you so!”

A chuckle escaped. “It's difficult to say anything with the death grip you have on my throat.”

“Hey, are y'all having a tea party up there, or what?” called one of the foundation men.

More grumbles and groans followed.

“Okay, okay,” Katherine whispered. She was wet with perspiration. The afternoon sun beat down so mercilessly, she was sure she had freckles forming on the inside of her eyelids. She lost her footing and let out a panicky whimper. Al's hand latched on to her wrist.

“Whatever you do,” he said, “lean forward. I won't let you fall.”

Somewhere inside her she must have believed him, because her heart stopped pounding, and she felt calmed, almost safe. She scrambled up until she was sitting on his shoulders, then standing. Whoever had coated the pole with Crisco had done his job well. She hugged the warm, slippery metal and saw the ferry in the far distance. She had an odd sensation, looking down at the tops of trees.

Her foundation shifted, and Katherine was jerked back to reality. She stretched her fingers up to the can and slipped it off. “I got it!”

The onlookers whistled and cheered. The other team booed.

Katherine sat down hard on Al's shoulders.

“Take your time,” he said, holding her thigh.

For a half-second she thought about how right his hands felt on her.

Then she shook her head. High altitude, she told herself. She scooted down, hopped off and the pyramid collapsed.

Her feet barely touched the ground before Rich hauled her up in his arms.

“What in—”

He smiled. “Rules of the game. Winners get dunked in the harbor.”

Katherine glared at him, struggling against his hold. “Then why did I try so hard?” she muttered.

Rich just laughed and tightened his grip. “So you wouldn't have to carry all the other team's men to the water!”

Then Katherine was sailing through the air and into the water. When she surfaced, she heard more splashes, hoots and hollers, and a loud argument between Rich and Al. Blinking the cool water from her eyes, she spotted them. Al had Rich by the collar and looked ready to jerk a knot in the dockmaster.

“It's just part of the game!” Rich said.

Katherine groaned and kicked her way closer to shore. “Al, they're throwing all the winners in,” she yelled. She pointed at Chad getting his due. “Look at Chad.”

Al paused but didn't let go of Rich. He looked at Chad first, then at Katherine in complete confusion. “It's part of the game?”

She gave a big nod and smiled. “Now, it's your turn.”

He abruptly noticed the three men standing expectantly by his side. “Me?”

They nodded.

Al gave Rich a hard glare, released his shirt, then sighed and nodded to the waiting culprits. They picked Al up and threw him in the water.

Trying to conceal her laughter, Katherine swam to Al's side when he surfaced.

“You think this is funny,” he growled.

The giggle bubbled out. “Very.” She laughed again helplessly. “You look so stern.”

He fought a grin. “Then why are you laughing?”

“You look so stern.” Another giggle. She took in a mouthful of water that time. “And so wet.”

“Come here,” he said around his own chuckle.

He dragged her close, so that her slick body rubbed against his. Her breath caught. “Stop,” she protested. “I feel like a greased pig.”

He shook his head, his hair blacker than ever. She was close enough to see the way the water made his eyelashes spiky. “Not a pig.”

He wrapped one hand on her back, and Katherine's hands automatically went to his chest. The water lost its cooling effect.

His thin wet cotton shirt revealed more than concealed the contours beneath, the hard muscles, swirls of dark hair and male nipples puckered against the cold. She felt the strongest urge to rip the shirt off and bury her face there, to inhale his scent, feel his skin against her cheek, to taste him. A quiver rippled through her.

She tore her gaze from his chest. “Well,” she said brightly, trying to recapture a lighter mood. “Did you have fun?”

He looked at her oddly, as if he were puzzling over her behavior. “You mean, did I enjoy getting thrown in the water?”

The thud of his heartbeat beneath her palm distracted her. She cleared her throat. “Well, that and the flagpole race. All of it.”

“All of it,” he mused, bringing her tighter against him. His eyelids lowered sensuously. “I don't know about all of it, Katherine. But I believe getting thrown in the water with you definitely has its compensations.” He glanced at her breasts.

Katherine's gaze shot down to what had become a peekaboo shirt and felt her cheeks burn. “Oh, no,” she moaned.

He had the nerve to laugh.

She glared.

“Oh, yes,” he said, and dunked her before she could hit him.

 

The next morning Katherine was up at the ungodly hour of four-thirty. All part of Al's recreational education, she thought with a grimace as they baited their hooks.

“It's quiet,” Al said, and cast his line.

“Yes. I'd counted on Chad to come with us.” As a chaperon, her conscience baited her. She frowned. “He's usually more talkative in the morning than I am.”

“Except when he stays at Chuck's too long and wakes up with a hangover.”

“Right,” she said dryly, and cast her line.

“What made you decide on fishing?”

She yawned. “Well, I've been analyzing your fun…” She thought for a moment and smiled. “Your fun disability.”

He turned his head at that. “Disability!”

Katherine nodded. “Yes, that's exactly what it is. It appears that you always need to have some sort of active goal in order to have fun. And what I've decided is that you need to learn to enjoy the
process
of having fun.”

Leaning closer to her, he whispered, “Isn't the goal of fishing to catch a fish?”

His whisper sent a hot shiver through her. She leaned away and propped her fishing pole in the bracket. “Some people would say that. But I think the goal of fishing is to enjoy the quiet.” She slapped at a mosquito. “In spite of the bugs.”

“All right,” he said, and wondered what was in her head this morning. She'd seemed inordinately upset when Chad couldn't go with them. Al put his fishing pole in a bracket, then eased onto his back.

He watched her hug her knees to her chest, her hair flowing freely over her back. She looked into the dark horizon, humming softly under her breath. He felt a strange protectiveness surge through him.

Fingers burning to touch her long curls, he gave in to the inclination and fondled a strand. The humming stopped. He was oddly disappointed. “What were you singing?”

She paused, then moaned. “Oh, not again.” She sighed and flipped her hand through her hair. “Nothing, really. Just a little tune I learned a long time ago.”

She seemed uncomfortable. It frustrated him. He wanted her free and easy with him. He gave her hair a gentle tug. “Is it the Paganini?”

Slowly she turned. Her wary gaze caught his. “Yes,” she admitted.

He tangled more of her hair in his fingers. “I'd like to see this music box. Will you show me?”

“It's broken.”

“But you still have it.”

She nodded, and he sensed her wariness. The music box represented her most cherished dreams. “Is it in the cottage?”

Hesitantly she nodded again. “In my closet.” She hadn't looked at it in years, but she knew it was still there in a box. She shrugged. “I doubt you'd be impressed with an old broken music box.”

He moved closer. His hand was still on her hair, and his scent seemed to fill her senses. The morning was cool, and she found herself wanting to lean in to his masculine warmth. He reached for her hand, turned it over and drew slow circles on her palm. Her breasts immediately tightened. She was glad it was still dark, and he couldn't see how easily he affected her.

“But will you show me?”

Oh, hell, she thought. It's just a music box. “Okay, okay. Can I have my hand back now?”

“No,” he said simply, and brought her fingers to his lips.

She should have jerked her hand away. But mesmerized by the look in his eyes, she didn't move an inch.

His gaze fastened on her, he gave a quick hard tug that pulled her off balance and onto his chest. “You were too far away.”

Her heart flipped. “I didn't think so.”

“Maybe I can change your mind.”

With no further warning he pressed his mouth against hers. His tongue teased and coaxed, and she couldn't help thinking his kisses were richer than Godiva chocolate and just as forbidden. One just wasn't enough. His passion was a dark, potent liquor that punched through her veins, leaving her intoxicated.

He slanted his mouth and shifted so that she lay sprawled on his chest, her legs between his raised knees. His arousal nudged the apex of her thighs, hard and ready. Through their clothing he crushed her breasts to his chest, and his hands urged her bottom in a rocking motion against him. Her heart clenched tight, and she went light-headed. It was just enough to make her wonder if she was going to faint. She made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

He pulled her away. For a moment she resisted.

He swore, then gave her a quick, hard kiss. “We've got to breathe. Help me out, Katherine.”

She slumped to his shoulder and took several minutes to catch her breath. There was no use pretending anymore. “Lord, you can kiss.”

“I want to make love to you.”

Her breath caught. She was still off balance. “Do we have to? Kissing you's much better than sex.”

He looked at her as if she'd lost it. “Don't you like sex?”

She squirmed. “Well, it's not exactly that.”

“Katherine.” He tilted her chin up so she would meet his gaze. “I think you need to explain.”

Her heart sank. She really didn't want to discuss it. She'd revealed far too much already. And this was just too private. He'd never understand, not in a million years.

“I'm not good at it,” Katherine said.

Alex blinked. Unless he'd missed a switch in the conversation, “it” was sex. “But how—”

She stiffened and tried to ease away, but he held fast. “Don't feel sorry for me. We all have our talents. I'm an excellent first-grade teacher. I'm a decent dancer.” She shrugged. “I'm good at a lot of things. I'm just not good at—” she took a deep breath and finished “—sex.”

Though she tried to affect a matter-of-fact tone, Alex could hear the misery in her voice. This was a moment that called for all his tact, diplomacy and understanding. Fury lashed through him, and his voice rose in spite of himself. “What jerk tried to sell you that piece of idiocy?”

Katherine winced and sat up. “Stop yelling! You'll scare away the fish. Nobody had to tell me. I figured it out on my own.” She glared at him. “I don't like discussing it. And if you had an ounce of sensitivity, you'd drop the subject.”

Alex sat up and positioned his face about a millimeter from hers. “You brought up the subject.”

“I did not,” she whispered, her eyes turbulent with emotion. “You did when you said you wanted to make love to me.”

“That hasn't changed.”

She looked down for a long moment, pursing her lips. “Okay, I'll give you the abbreviated version. I was inexperienced when I got married. He'd been involved with some beautiful, worldly women, and I didn't want to disappoint him.”

The rising dawn revealed the tension on her face. Alex wanted to wipe it away, but he sensed she was struggling to retain her composure.

“The honeymoon went okay. Nothing earth-shattering, but I figured if I tried, it could get better.” She looked out onto the water. “It didn't. When I think back—” She broke off and gave a heavy sigh.

Alex narrowed his eyes. He'd like five minutes alone with her ex-husband. This was the kind of chore he delegated to his security force, but this time he'd trade a slew of his titles for the opportunity to get the man who'd done this to her. “How do you know your husband wasn't at fault?”

She met his gaze and shrugged. “Because he was the experienced one.”

“Experienced in what way?” he asked, a hard edge creeping into his voice.

“In the usual way.”

“Katherine, every woman is different. What works with one doesn't necessarily work with another. It's the same way for men. A man must discover the hidden desires in his lover.”

“I tried to do that,” she said earnestly. “I read the
Kama Sutra.
I read
How to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed.
I tried every trick in the book, and it just didn't work.”

Al's patience ran out. “Then you married an idiot. Any man who wouldn't be delighted with you ‘trying every trick' on him would have to be insane.”

“We're not getting anywhere with this discussion.”

“If you would trust me instead of—”

Katherine held up her hand. “Oh, no. You're not pulling that autocratic stuff on me again. I know what I went through, and you don't.”

The idea of Katherine being with another man made him feel murderous, yet he couldn't leave the issue unsettled. The taste of his questions was bitter on his tongue, but he had to ask them. “Did he hurt you physically?”

“No.”

The next question was the toughest. He gritted his teeth, then deliberately relaxed his jaw. “Did you enjoy making love with him?”

“No! How was I supposed to enjoy something that felt so empty and humiliating? I always felt like he was trying to do me a favor.”

He
would
kill the man. “You were married to the wrong man.”

“How do you know that?”

He stifled the impulse to tell her to trust him and tried another tactic. “I could always offer for you to try your tricks on me.”

“How generous of you,” she retorted. “I think I'll pass.”

“It's a fair trade. You're teaching me to have fun. I could teach you…”

She rolled her eyes. “Teach me the wonders of sex.”

Disliking her flip tone, he caught her chin. “No. You know about sex. What you need is to learn how to enjoy making love.” He raised an eyebrow. “The
process
of making love.”

He caught her attention with that. Katherine could appreciate the idea of enjoying the process. After all, those had been her exact words to Al.

She looked at his face and tried to see into his mind. The hard sculpted lines told the truth of his will and personality. His hair, longer than when he'd first arrived on Pirate Island, invited a women to look past his dark countenance, to weave her fingers, to hold on. His unflinching gaze could burn steel with its intensity. And Lord knows, she wasn't made of steel.

He was too arrogant and too proud. She could have hated him for that arrogance and kept her distance, but he'd shown her the secret of his vulnerability. He was so male, so sexy, and he said he wanted her. It made her heart stop to think of it.

It wouldn't take much for her to give in. But for some reason she couldn't explain even to herself, the stakes were higher this time. Part of it was that she'd lost a piece of herself in her marriage. Part of it was something else, something deeper.

Katherine gave a quick shake of her head, pulling away. She tried for a lighter note. “Your offer's very generous, but I think I'll have to pass.”

His gaze narrowed. He didn't like being refused. She'd wager he didn't deal with refusals too often.

His intensity made her nervous. She made a show of reaching for her fishing pole and fussing with it.

“It's going to happen between us.”

She shivered at his tone. “It doesn't have to.”

“It
will
happen, Katherine. And when it does, you'll beg me to love you again.”

She shook her head. “No. I'll be embarrassed and humiliated.”

“You'll burn when I come inside you.”

Katherine suppressed a shudder and swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I'll find your soft, secret places with my hands, my mouth, with all of me.”

Lord help me.
Katherine covered her eyes with one hand. He couldn't see the rage going on inside her, the way her breasts drew taut at his words, the way she ached between her thighs. For some men this would be bragging. But with Al she sensed it was an oath. She suspected he was capable of all he promised. But was she?

She pushed back her bangs. “You know, Al, I'm only saving you frustration and disappointment.”

His lips played with a grin, but his eyes remained serious. “Then say yes.”

She scowled. He'd deliberately misinterpreted her. “No. Besides, we'll both be too busy for—” she waved her hand “—that kind of stuff. You've got the drama tomorrow night, and I just found out the press is coming.”

His voice dropped an octave. “The press?”

She was puzzled by his grim expression. “Yes, I thought it might draw in some new prospects.”

He looked away, saying nothing. The distance between them had suddenly grown exponentially. A moment later he caught a fish, and she exclaimed over it. “It's huge, and I didn't even catch a minnow. I'll have to hang my head in shame.”

Silence followed as he deftly unhooked it. Then he looked at her. “It's time to go back.”

Her stomach clenched. She nodded. The warmth in his eyes had turned cool, his manner remote. The easy moments were passed. To her dismay her sense of loss was staggering.

 

By the following evening she was ready to wring his neck. Swollen with humidity and expectation, the starless cloudy night reflected her edgy mood. “He's around here somewhere,” she muttered, looking at the crowd filling the beach in anticipation of the pirate drama. “I don't know where, but I know he's still here.”

Chad came up behind her. “How do you know he didn't take a ferry?”

Because the back of my neck tingles as if he's watching me. Because I still hear that blasted music. Because I don't want him gone.
Katherine shook her head. “I don't know. I just think he is.”

Chad looked at her skeptically. “We're supposed to start in ten minutes, Katie. We've got two reporters, a crowd and no Raven.”

“I know that, Chad,” she said, irritation seeping through. “Have you got any brilliant suggestions?”

Chad jammed his hands in his pockets. “No. It's like he disappeared after you two went fishing yesterday.” He gave her a curious glance. “What'd you do to the poor guy, anyway?”

Poor guy!
Chad's question hit a nerve. Katherine had worried that she'd offended Al yesterday. On top of that, dealing with the reporters all day had made her nervous and edgy. “I didn't do anything to him. How am I supposed to know what's wrong? He's not exactly forthcoming.”

“I thought maybe he was more open with you.”

“Well, he's not,” she said, reminded afresh of how much she didn't know about Al and how much more he knew about her. “Maybe he's not as reliable as we thought.”

Chad checked his watch. “Five minutes. I gotta go backstage. I'll try to come up with something.”

Katherine forced a smile. “Break a leg.”

“Gonna break his neck,” he muttered as he hurried away.

Fifteen minutes later the drama was under way, and Katherine wasn't sure if Al had shown up yet. She sent up a hundred prayers.

She inhaled the metallic scent of impending rain. The wind lifting her skirts and her hair echoed a wordless warning. Every muscle in her body was tense. Every nerve was rattled, and her stomach churned. She told herself it was because of the reporters, but part of her knew she wasn't ready for Al to leave. The knowledge unsettled her more.

There was a long pause when Raven was due to make his entrance.

Katherine held her breath.

Then the spotlight caught Raven with his tight black pants, billowy white shirt, gleaming sword and something new—a black mask. Relief gushed through Katherine. She let out the breath she'd been holding, and the drama continued with near-perfect timing.

This time Katherine looked away when it came time for Al to kiss Suzanne. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she didn't want to see that again.

Afterward, the performers took their bow. Al seemed to be searching the crowd for someone.

Was it for her? Her heart quickened to an embarrassingly fast rate. Digging her toes into the sand, she brushed the thought aside. He was probably looking for those reporters. So much for her ardent lover.

Fat drops of the promised rain began to fall. The crowd broke apart, with everyone headed for their tents or the nearest shelter.

Dawdling under a floodlight, Katherine couldn't resist a last glance at him. For one long moment she'd swear he was looking at her.
What do you want from me?
she wondered. Tension and restraint vibrated from him. Something inside was tearing at him, making him miserable. Couldn't everyone else see it? Why did she? Why did she care? Why did she want to be the one to soothe him?

Whatever he wanted, she couldn't give it. The price was too high.

 

He came to her in the night and woke her with a gentle kiss. Soon he joined her on her bed with the moonlight streaming through the window. Her clothes dissolved beneath his hands, and he caressed her until she was breathless.

Giving in to her wordless need, he entered her, stretching and filling her. Tears came to her eyes. They were one at last, she thought. Now, she knew him intimately. Then Katherine saw that he was wearing a mask on his face. He was a stranger after all. She lifted her hands and tugged, but the mask wouldn't come off…

Katherine sat straight up in bed. Gasping and disoriented, she looked on either side of her rumpled bed for Al. He wasn't there.

She rumbled, then clicked on her bedside light. Her window was cracked, just as she'd left it. Her door was closed. For a moment she just sat there, breathing hard, trapped in that window between reality and fantasy. It had been so real. She'd heard his voice, felt his lips.

He had been there.
In her arms, against her breasts.
Inside her.
Between her legs she felt swollen and stretched, as if…

“Oh, no,” she moaned. It couldn't be.

Another dream. She must be going crazy. She rubbed her arms, her heart hammering against her chest. Her white cotton gown clung to her damp skin, and her hair stuck to the back of her neck. She lifted it away and shivered.

His scent clung to the air, and the music still played in her head. Her breasts tingled with arousal. Her lips burned.

Desperation bubbled to the surface, and a sob escaped. With shaking hands she covered her mouth. She had to get out of here. It didn't matter that her clock read 2:00 a.m. or that the rain still fell outside her window. She felt trapped, and she had to get out.

Jerking off her gown and pulling on her dress from the night before, Katherine left her bedroom and ran to the beach.

 

Alex hadn't gone to sleep, hadn't even tried. Distracted, he still wore Raven's shirt and pants. He walked the width of his small bedroom, debating whether he should go ahead and return to Moreno. He'd counted on eluding the press, and it had been a shock to learn they were on Pirate Island by invitation. So, there was the press, his responsibilities to his country, his false identity.

And there was Katherine.

He stiffened, bracing himself against untried emotions rushing through him, threatening to erupt. She made him feel powerful, yet human. How, he wondered, frowning, did she manage it? How could anyone so small affect him so much? Why had such an unworldly woman turned his head? He could never marry her. She was totally unsuitable. Yet he had to possess her. It was becoming an obsession.

The silk mask dangled from the bedpost, mocking him. He swore at it, then crushed it in his hand and threw it out of sight. He was so frustrated, he could have roared.