CHAPTER NINE

THEYPILEDFOOD on their plates and moved to the stern of the boat. Julius sat on one of the leather lounges while she stretched out on a towel, one leg dangling over the side.

"What do you like to do in your spare time?"

She paused in the middle of popping a piece of rosemary-and-ginger chocolate into her mouth.

"Do?"

"You're obviously adept at handling a boat. And swimming. Do you spend all your time on the water?"

The chocolate turned bitter in her mouth. She tried to cover up her unease by taking a long drink of champagne.

"A decent bit," she finally said. "That and reading. Although I didn't get much time to myself when I worked for the palace."

"For me."

He lounged on the leather seat, his sunglasses back on, his body relaxed. Yet she knew better, knew what lurked beneath the surface. Not a relaxed wealthy vacationer, but a predator, a lion waiting to pounce.

"Yes."

"I find it curious that the woman I just spent the past two hours with has completely disappeared." He leaned forward. "As soon as I ask about you, you become tense."

"I don't like talking about myself."

"Why not?"

Whether it was the champagne or the sun or just the sudden fatigue of presenting a face to the world, she opted for the truth.

"Because I don't know that much about myself."

She could feel his surprise.

"How so?"

"I've always done what was expected. What others wanted." She pushed a strawberry around her plate, the fruit leaving a red smear of juice in its wake. "When I was five, that was wearing clothes I didn't like to please my mother. When I was thirteen, it was crying alone in my room when my mother moved away because my father didn't like tears."

"And when you joined the academy?"

She looked up then, faced him head-on.

"I wanted my father to be proud of me. I wanted...something. Any kind of connection." Her whole body grew tight, confusion spiraling through as questions she'd asked herself over and over again the past few weeks rose to the surface. "I went after a career I doubt I would have pursued had it not been for a childish wish."

"I imagine many others do the same."

Disappointment sliced through her. He didn't understand. She got up and set her plate on the counter, pulled on her dress as she walked back to the terrace and dropped onto her towel. She turned her gaze to the ocean, to the islands covered in lush green and sweeping mountains that dotted the blue waves.

"I'm sure they do," she finally said. "I love Rodina. I told myself when I first registered that loving my country would make up for picking a career that was my father's dream and not mine."

"Was it?"

"I don't know." She pulled her legs to her chest, rested her chin on her knees. "Even though I was good at it, I was never sure if it was something I wanted for myself or just because I was finally..."

She grasped for a word, a phrase, something that would give voice to the tumultuous storm that had been raging inside her for years, only recently brought to the surface when the one thing she'd been good at, the one thing she'd been recognized for, had been taken away.

All because she'd dared to grasp the one thing she had wanted, truly wanted just for herself, in her whole life.

The boat rocked beneath her. Shyness and embarrassment overtook her. She kept her eyes trained resolutely on the horizon, refusing to look at him. She'd been humiliated enough already.

The heat from his body as he sat next to her seeped through the thin material of her dress.

"I finally felt seen," she whispered.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened, then surrendered to temptation and let her head relax against him.

"When I played upon your sense of duty and loyalty back in the cottage, you agreed almost immediately."

"You always were good at using people's emotions."

She said it without malice, but could still feel his body tense.

"I sound like a bastard."

"You could be." A sigh escaped her as she leaned deeper into his warmth. Utterly shameless.

Just one minute. One more minute and then I'll move.

"Then why did you keep working for me?"

"Because there was more to you than that. I didn't always agree with your methods, but I never doubted your intentions. You fought for the people. For the country."

Oh, how that had mesmerized her. To see someone who others viewed as cold, intractable, and yet come to see how deeply they cared. Unlike her mother, a vapid creature with no interests other than herself, and her father, addicted to his role but not the people he served, Julius's convictions had ensnared her, deepened her commitment to her role, to her country, to him.

"Wasn't there an abbot or some other religious figure who said the road to hell was paved with good intentions?"

His voice rumbled against her cheek.

"You are a good ruler, Julius. You and your father made me proud to be Rodinian."

He froze. Then his arm tightened and pulled her closer, enveloping her in that intoxicating cedar against the backdrop of sea air.

"How did I ever deserve you as my protector, Esmerelda?"

She lifted her head, turned to look at him. Her breath caught in her chest as she realized just how close their lips were. Her eyes moved from his mouth to his gaze. Need burned hot, making deep brown flare into amber. One hand came up, fingers grazing her jaw before they tangled in her hair and pulled her closer, stopping just shy of her mouth.

His lips parted. A whimper escaped, almost pleading, as need built in her, coiling her body tighter and tighter until she could barely resist it.

But she wouldn't be the first to yield. Not this time.

He murmured her name once more.

And then he kissed her.

Oh, dear heaven.

No slow, teasing kiss that had brought their bodies together in the Paris suite. This kiss claimed, conquered, branded. His lips moved over hers, confident and yet with a frantic edge that made her heart beat out of control as fire suffused her body.

He crushed her against his body. Delirious desire shot through her veins. She straddled his lap, her fingers sliding into his hair as she returned his kiss, pouring over a month's worth of longing and heartache into their embrace.

His tongue teased the seam of her mouth. Her lips parted and he plundered. With each stroke, energy pulsed through her. One hand stayed on her back and kept her anchored against him. The other quested upward, fingertips leaving a searing trail as they delved into her curls and pulled her head back. She arched against him, a protesting whimper escaping as he moved his mouth from hers. The whimper turned into a moan of satisfaction as he kissed the line of her jaw, down her neck, then lower still until his lips grazed the swells of her breasts.

"Julius..."

His hand moved from her back to her shoulder to the ties of her dress straps. She felt the material give as he pulled—

This is wrong.

The thought slammed into her. She wanted him. Dear God, how she wanted him. But they couldn't do this, couldn't make love, with so much unknown between them. With her lies hanging over them. And for all she knew Julius was engaged to another woman, or soon to be.

She started to say his name again, to tell him to wait while she gathered her thoughts. The sound of a boat horn cut across the water. Julius's head snapped up.

Relief mingled with disappointment as Esme scrambled to her feet and hastily tightened the straps on her dress.

"Looks like a yacht." She moved to the front where leather seats ringed the bow of the boat. "Still a half mile away. But they're heading in our direction. Just trying to give us a heads-up."

She waved in case anyone was watching through the binoculars, then turned.

Julius stood on the stern, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He stared at her with a hunger that made her feel like the most beautiful woman on earth even as it nearly frightened her with its intensity.

Had she wanted to be seen before? Because when he looked at her like this, as if he could see to the very depths of her soul and all the good and bad things inside her mind, it was both wonderful and terrifying.

"Esmerelda..."

She waited, apprehension chasing away the lingering traces of desire.

"I'm sorry."

Of all the things she had expected to hear, an apology was at the bottom of the list.

"Excuse me?"

"What happened here was wrong."

Bile rose in her throat, thick and bitter. She'd thought the same thing, but hearing it come out of Julius's mouth made her sick to her stomach. He didn't want her. He'd taken one taste and wanted no more. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed.

No.She was stronger. She was no longer depending on others for her own salvation. She wouldn't run, wouldn't crumble.

Her chin rose.

"I agree, sir."

He swore and started forward.

"That's not what I meant."

"It never is."

She moved, keeping one of the leather lounges between them. He stopped, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"Damn it, Esmerelda, listen to me—"

"That yacht is approaching quickly." She slipped back into her professional role, her voice void of emotion. "They may or may not have binoculars. They most certainly have phones or other recording devices onboard. If we want to ensure your anonymity, we need to go now."

Within a minute they were back on the water. She urged the boat's speed up as fast as she dared, wanting to get back to the villa, to put as much distance between herself and the island where she'd nearly made the second biggest mistake of her life.

Despite the wind rushing by, her focus shifting between the water and the navigation system, she knew the moment he moved to the seat behind hers.

"You misunderstood me."

"I didn't."

A string of colorful Portuguese curses sounded behind her.

"That's certainly new," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. "I don't recall hearing you swear like a sailor."

"One has a right to swear when someone is refusing to listen."

A quick glance confirmed there were no boats anywhere nearby. She killed the engine, waiting until the boat slowed and began to drift with the current, keeping her gaze forward.

"I told you before when you first came to me that I was done listening to you." To her horror, tears pricked the backs of her eyes. "I gave in once. I'm not doing so again."

"I meant that nearly making love to you on the back of a boat in the middle of the Caribbean was wrong." She felt him just behind her, felt his tension and energy rippling off his body. "That giving in to our physical attraction was wrong when we haven't sorted out everything that happened between us before my accident."

The explanation made sense. Indeed, as her embarrassment cooled, it all sounded terribly rational. Which made her response seem all the more outlandish.

All the more dangerous. She'd submitted again, had allowed herself to be carried away by emotion. But all she was doing was digging her grave deeper. And what about Julius? If she did give in, what would happen when he did remember? Would this softer side of him disappear? Or would he keep aspects of the man she saw now, a man who loathed the thought of being married off to a woman he hadn't chosen for himself? A man who could potentially be hurt by an affair, too?

Suddenly overwhelmed by everything that had happened the past few days—Julius's unexpected arrival, his amnesia, their kiss—all hit at once and stripped away what few tatters remained of her pride.

"It's better to keep things unknown."

"Better for who, Esmerelda?"

She heard the accusation in his voice, the censure. She brushed it all aside as she grabbed the key still in the ignition.

"For both of us, Your Highness."