CHAPTER ELEVEN

WAVESLAPPEDGENTLY against the beach. Julius's bare feet sank into the wet sand, the ground cushioning his steps as the warm water swirled around his ankles before receding back into the ocean.

He needed this moment of peace before he went back to the villa. Needed the physical distance from the woman within its walls.

The memory of Esmerelda's body beneath his, her strong curves pressed against him, her passionate response as he'd tasted her body, made him hard almost instantly. Yet beneath the pulsing hunger ran a deep thread of guilt. While he couldn't remember his history with Esmerelda, he knew enough to know he'd hurt her deeply. The memory of her looking at him, her face stricken with hurt, as he'd determinedly pushed on with whatever he felt he'd had to say, haunted him. Yet twice yesterday he'd kissed her. Once where anyone passing by could have seen. Once in the privacy of her room where he'd pushed the boundaries even further.

Esmerelda had said they'd never been lovers. But something else had existed between them. An unacted-upon mutual attraction? Perhaps a plan to become something more, but he'd cut it short because of the engagement?

It was past time he and Esmerelda had a talk. He needed to know what had happened between them, needed to apologize for what other transgressions he had committed, before he could hopefully receive her forgiveness. Before they could move forward.

He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out the black box, flipping the lid open as he held it up. The diamond glowed, the freckles inside illuminated by the silver glow of moonlight.

The first time he'd held the ring, he'd thought of her. The idea of putting it on another woman's hand had him snapping the box shut and shoving it back into his pocket. Had he found some way for him and Esmerelda to be together? Was that a scenario she had ever entertained? Everything she'd said so far had suggested she hadn't wanted to be fired. But what about something more?

He followed the winding path back to the villa, his steps lit by sconces casting golden light onto the stepping-stones. The past kept them apart, as did their positions. He was the crown prince. She was his bodyguard. How could they explore their attraction if they never stepped away from their roles?

"Good evening, sir."

Julius looked up to see Aroldo on the terrace.

"Good evening." He nodded at the night sky. "A little late for you, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. Doing my final rounds and then I'll be on my way. I will be gone tomorrow, so Michael will be attending to you and Miss Clark."

"Anything planned for your day off?"

Aroldo chuckled. "Hardly a vacation day. My daughter Hanna owns a rum distillery." Pride rang in his voice as he smiled. "She's hosting a masquerade gala tomorrow night to raise funds for our annual Spicemas carnival."

"A gala?"

"A bit fancier than many are used to. But Hanna is...strategic," Aroldo said. "Those not used to such affairs will enjoy themselves. Those who are will enjoy the food, the festivities, and hopefully donate."

An idea popped into his head.

"Is this gala open to anyone willing to make a donation?"

Aroldo's eyes narrowed. When he saw that Julius was serious, a conspiring twinkle appeared in his eye as he bowed his head.

"But of course, sir."

Satisfaction wound through him. A night to get away from the villa, to shed the titles of prince and bodyguard and simply exist as a man and woman, could only help. Not only could it lower the walls his past behavior and the difference in their stations had erected, but it would give Esmerelda a chance to indulge, to savor the moments she had so often been deprived of.

"Tell me where to send the money and it will be done within twenty-four hours. Esmerelda and I will be attending, although we'll be taking advantage of the masquerade to not reveal our identities to any of the guests."

"Of course, sir." The butler sounded faintly affronted that Julius would even suggest his betraying a guest's confidence. "I won't even tell my daughters." He looked down at Julius's bare feet. "I can procure you a suit and mask. I don't believe Miss Clark brought any evening wear."

Damn.Of course she hadn't. She thought she was going to be spending her days on a beach, not guarding her ex-boss or attending black-tie events.

He glanced down at his watch.

"It should be almost dawn in Paris. I'll have a special order arriving at the airport tomorrow in the early afternoon."

"It will be delivered the moment it arrives." Aroldo paused. "If I might, sir, my other daughter Joana is a seamstress. She has some creations that are suitable for the gala and that I believe would be to Miss Clark's liking."

"Anything you recommend."

Aroldo beamed.

"It will be done, sir."

As the butler hurried off, Julius smiled. He had no doubt that Esmerelda's first answer to his plan would be no, followed by a series of logical reasons as to why it wasn't a good idea. He formulated a list of responses as he entered the villa. The lights had been left on low, creating a golden glow that made the large space feel cozy and comforting. He turned the lights off as he walked down the hall. The moon shone bright through the skylights and lit his way.

He paused in front of Esmerelda's door. Temptation took hold of him, urged his steps closer. The memory of her—the taste of her skin, the music of her sharp cry as he'd kissed her breasts, the heat of her touch—filled him. He raised a hand to knock.

And stopped. If he knocked, if they picked up where they had left off, his physical desires would be satisfied. He had no doubt they would spend all night, if not most of the morning, enjoying each other's bodies. Exploring, savoring, delighting.

But the deeper yearning would still be there, the void in his memories rivaling the emptiness in his heart. He didn't just want Esmerelda in his bed.

He wanted her, all of her.

Slowly, he lowered his hand. Then he turned and walked down the hall, the thud of his footsteps mirroring the heavy beat of his heart.

Tomorrow.

He opened the door to his own room. A soft click sounded behind him. He looked over his shoulder.

All that greeted him was an empty hallway and Esmerelda's closed door glowing silver in the moonlight.

Esme sat at the kitchen island, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Every sound, from the creak of a floorboard to the caw of a seagull, made her glance over her shoulder.

Where is he?

She'd laid on her bed for what felt like hours after Julius had left. One minute she'd decided to race after him, only to talk herself down the next. When she'd finally decided to find him, to tell him everything and lay bare not only their history but her desires, his room had been empty.

Both frustrated and relieved, she'd gone back to her room and sank into a hot tub. Not half an hour later she'd heard Julius and Aroldo on the terrace. She'd gone to fetch her robe, had been pulling it on when she'd heard his footsteps in the hall. Heard the pause outside her door.

Coward.

Her moment of bravery had evaporated beneath the twin weights of exhaustion and fear. She'd wanted him to knock, to open the door, to make the first move. To give her proof that she wasn't imagining things. To give her a much-needed dose of bravery to voice her wants.

And then he'd moved on. She'd opened her door just a crack, watched him move down the hall, before softly closing her door and sinking onto her bed once more.

Yet sleep had evaded her.

I want him.

So simple, yet so complicated. This time there was no underlying need for validation, none of the sycophancy that had overshadowed their first encounter. Then, there had been a sense of gratitude, that a man like him would deign to kiss a woman like her.

Unattractive. Unwanted. Unlovable.

Funny how one moment could wake someone up. Wake them up to the cold, hard truth that sometimes other people weren't right, they were simply awful. People like her parents, who had been so caught up in themselves and their own wants and desires that they hadn't bothered with their own child. People like the man Julius had been before, who had dismissed her so cruelly.

The seconds after she'd walked out of Julius's office had yanked her from that dark place where she thought she had to work more, do more, be more to be enough for others, and thrust her into the reality that whether she knew herself or not, she was enough.

A realization she had worked to accept over the past few weeks, along with exploring what she wanted instead of living her life for someone else.

And what she wanted, right now, was Julius.

In the span of a heartbeat, it had all fallen into place. She wanted Julius, wanted this complex man who had flown halfway around the world to seek her out. The desire she felt now didn't hinge on a need to be loved by someone else. It existed simply because she wanted it.

It was thrilling. Terrifying. It was still fated to end the way it had the first time; with them parting ways. But this time, it was on her terms.

As the shadows from the moonlight had shifted across the silk covers, she planned. She would tell him everything. She would lay bare their past, tell him her wishes now and place the choice at his feet. To have one last affair before he returned to Rodina and she continued on with her new life. Or to part ways now with the memories, both good and bad, of who they had been and what they had shared.

After I give him a piece of my mind about wandering off.

She'd slept until nearly ten in the morning and awoken to an empty villa. Panic had sent her running from room to room. The housecleaning crew had already been through, leaving behind fresh vases of flowers and polished floors in their wake.

But still no Julius.

What kind of bodyguard overslept and let her charge wander out of her sight?

She'd called Julius. He'd sent her to voicemail. She'd texted him. He'd told her Aroldo's son-in-law, a police officer, had a day off and was accompanying him on an errand in town.

It hadn't been until Aroldo had arrived to prepare lunch and confirmed not only that his son-in-law was with Julius but also a well-trained officer who was being generously compensated for his time that she had managed to let herself breathe.

Julius had texted around noon, telling her that was she was off-duty and the best thing she could do was relax.

She hated it. But unless she could somehow trace his phone and call for a ride, she wouldn't be able to track him down.

So she'd had lunch on the terrace, explored the villa's library. She'd even spent an hour lying by the pool with a book, forcing herself to try and relax as she waited for him.

It hadn't worked.

Now, with four o'clock fast approaching, she hadn't seen him all day.

Frustrated, she blew on her mug, watched steam curl up from the pink-tinted rose tea. Then stiffened as she heard footsteps coming down the hall. Her heart careened into her throat, butterflies flapping madly inside her chest as she sucked in a calming breath.

You can do this.

She turned just as Julius walked into the kitchen.

"Hello."

She bit back a flash of irritation at his casual greeting, strove for the same level of calm he exuded.

"Next time, I need to know where you're going and who you'll be with."

He stayed by the door, hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes moving up and down her body. Heat seared her fingertips as her hand tightened around the mug.

"Yes, Mom."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Your safety is not a joke."

His expression sobered.

"That was thoughtless. I'm sorry. I'm not used to the security and protocol. But Aroldo's son-in-law was both an excellent guard and guide."

"And generously compensated," she added dryly.

"That, too," he added with a grin that made her heart clench.

Now. Tell him now.

"I—"

"Would you like to go to a masquerade with me tonight?"

Her lips parted. Of all the things she'd anticipated him saying, an invitation to a masquerade hadn't even made the list. "What?"

"A masquerade."

"But...where?"

"Aroldo's daughter Hanna operates a rum distillery near Grand Anse Beach. She's hosting a gala to raise funds for the island's annual Spicemas carnival in August. Aroldo compared it to the carnivals celebrated in late winter in countries like Brazil and the States."

"Oh." Mentally she started running through her checklist. "It's a little soon, but if I could get a copy of the floor plan, I could evaluate—"

He stepped closer, a slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Not as my bodyguard, Esmerelda. As my date."

Her mind slammed to a halt.

"Your date?"

Strange that the thought of going on a date frightened her more than going to bed with him. A date demanded more than a joining of bodies, more than a simple affair. It involved emotions and expectations. Was she prepared for something like this? Or would it cause old wounds to open, to lose the grip she had on her newfound confidence?

Before she could grasp onto a rational thought and think things through, he closed the distance between them, stopping inches away from her chair. His hand came up, his fingers gliding over her cheek, smoothing back a stray curl.

"We've been at odds since we met. Or at least since I first met you," he said with a small smirk. "Neither of us are denying the attraction between us. An attraction I suspect has been there for a long time."

She didn't deny, didn't look away. Not this time.

"But there's always something in the way. The past. Our roles." He leaned down, his eyes heating as his hand slid into her hair. "Tonight, we're just going to be us."

Her chest rose and fell as she breathed deeply, tried to force herself to think past the desire humming inside her.

"And after tonight?"

God, she sounded wanton. Breathless. Husky.

"After tonight, the choice is yours."

She hesitated. "I believe that tonight it will actually become your choice."

A frown furrowed his brow. "Oh?"

"I want to talk...to tell you what happened between us. Before I left."

His face cleared. "I would like that, too."

"We could talk now—"

"One night, Esmerelda." He moved, brushed his lips across hers in a kiss so light it might have been the graze of butterfly wings. "One night of enjoyment, of just being two people on a date. Just us." Another kiss had her rising up to deepen the kiss, only to be thwarted when he released her and stepped back. "Then we'll talk."

"Okay." She released a pent-up breath and nodded. "Okay. I'd like that." She glanced down at her T-shirt and shorts. "I've got a sundress or two that might work. Maybe Aroldo could recommend a store that has a shawl..." Her voice trailed off as she looked up to see Julius's smug expression. "What?"

"I got you something."

She followed him down the hall to her room, anticipation building despite her best efforts to keep calm. It had been ages since she'd received anything more than a card wishing her a happy birthday.

He opened the door and stepped back. With a curious glance at him, she crossed the threshold.

And stepped into a dream.

Beautiful dresses were draped over the bed, hanging from the chandelier, laid out over a chair. Dresses in colors her mother had always warned her off from because it would be "too much" with her hair, her freckles. Gowns bedecked with jewels, garments fashioned from silk, dresses with yards of tulle that made her think of a princess from her favorite childhood fairy tale.

She had never cared much for clothes as a child. Barefoot had been her preferred shoe, shirts and pants she could get dirty her favored clothing. Her mother had foisted pretty dresses on her with warnings to sit still. For the longest time, Esme had associated quality clothing with being bored. By the time she had graduated college and started showing an interest in wearing something other than casual wear, she had been entering the academy, where her options had been limited to the three uniforms they wore during training, followed by black suits with white shirts once she'd landed her job.

Right now, though, as her fingers reached out and brushed over satin the color of a spring morning sky, she realized she liked pretty dresses very much.

"Julius...they're lovely."

He moved behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders. Her eyes grew hot as she looked down at her feet.

"But?"

"They're not...me." She swallowed hard and forced out a chuckle. "I can run two miles in just over thirteen minutes and ranked first in marksmanship. Can you really picture me in one of these?"

"In and out."

A shiver danced down her spine at the heated promise in his words.

"Julius..."

"Tonight isn't just about us, Esmerelda." He leaned down, his breath warm on her ear. "It's about you getting a chance to breathe. To enjoy yourself the way you had planned to before I crashed your beach."

"You mean before I trounced you?"

Her words died on a breathy moan as he nipped her earlobe.

"Minx." Before she could respond, he moved to the dresses laid out on the bed. "I had a dozen flown in from Paris this afternoon, although a few were made here on Grenada." He reached for a blue gown. "This one was made by Aroldo's other daughter Joana." He grinned at her. "Are you really prepared to tell Aroldo you didn't even try it on?"

A sense of breathlessness overtook her as Julius held up the gown. The bodice, fashioned from satin, featured a V-neck cut that flirted with the edges of propriety. Pale blue blended into midnight at the waist, a tumble of color that reminded Esme of day turning to night. It swept down into frothy folds of chiffon. Some of the material had been attached to the straps at the back and hung down to form cuffs fashioned out of the same dark blue and threaded with silver.

"It's stunning."

She glanced at herself in the mirror. At her toned arms and smaller bust, her mass of curls and freckles upon freckles.

But then she remembered the swing on the beach. When Julius had looked down at her and smiled and asked if she liked to swing or not.

Find out.

Did she like wearing beautiful dresses? Yes, she still preferred being outside, being in the water or by the ocean. She loved walking in the sand, through the terraced vineyards in the fall and feeling the grass brush against her bare feet like velvet before the weather turned too cold.

Yet a part of her that was slowly coming to life wanted a touch of luxury, to feel confident in something other than her job. To feel beautiful.

She released a pent-up breath.

"I'll try it on." She let out a soft laugh. "I almost feel like Cinderella getting ready for a ball."

"Does that make me the fairy godmother?"

"I'll buy you a magic wand," Esme promised with a smile as she accepted the dress. "But it may not even fit."

"One way to find out." He caught her elbow, kissed her on the forehead so sweetly it made her throat tighten. "I'll leave you to make your selection. Meet me at eight in the main room."

She waited until the door closed behind him before she sagged.

Can I do this?

Yes, she wanted to tell him everything, to have no more secrets between them. Yes, she wanted to be with him again, to make love one last time.

And yes, she wanted tonight.

She shucked off her clothes and pulled the dress on, the luxurious blend of satin and chiffon whispering over her skin. She could feel the pull of temptation. Not just to wear an elegant gown, to play at being a princess for an evening, but to have a night with Julius in public. Yes, they'd be wearing masks. But it would be the first, and last, time she could simply enjoy being with him in front of others, without keeping her face schooled into a polite mask, mentally evaluating her actions and trying to keep her focus on Julius the job, not Julius the man.

She pulled up the zipper, although it only came up to her waist. Aside from the wide straps and the swaths of fabric that billowed beneath her arms, her back was bare.

She turned. And gasped.

The woman staring back at her from the mirror was someone she'd never seen before. The blue brought out the red gold of her hair, enhanced it. Instead of patterns and designs clashing with her freckles, the simple color scheme had her appreciating her speckled skin.

For the second time in her life, she felt beautiful. The first time had been when Julius had laid her back on his bed and gazed at her naked body. He hadn't said a word, but the appreciation blazing in his eyes had spoken volumes.

This time, however, as she grabbed the skirt and swished back and forth like a little girl, she felt beautiful all by herself.

Isn't there something magical in that?