CHAPTER FIFTEEN

JULIUSSATIN a lounge chair by the window, the curved back cradling him as he watched the storm stir the sea into crashing waves, the peaks made jagged by wind that ripped across the ocean.

It was glorious in its fury. Lightning forked across the sky. For a moment, the Atlantic was lit by a brilliant white light that would have delighted even the most curmudgeonly of individuals.

Julius noted the beauty. The uniqueness of the landscape.

And found it wanting compared to Esmerelda.

She slept a few feet away on her stomach with the sheet pulled just up to her waist. His eyes slid over her bare back, the toss of curls that partially obscured her face, her arms clutched around a pillow.

He raised his glass to his lips, sipped the rich whiskey and savored the slight burn down his throat. She had asked for nothing more than tonight. How many men in his position would have been thrilled at a night of pleasure with no strings attached?

Yet a hard stone had settled in his stomach at the thought of only one evening, perhaps a few if he took her up on her offer of continuing their affair until he left Grenada. He didn't want this to be the end. There had been something there between them from the beginning of this whole adventure. Something that had made her, and only her, stay in his memory. The more he talked to her, spent time with her, the more he couldn't begin to fathom how his former self had let her walk out of his life.

His eyes drifted toward the wall safe hidden behind a painting of one of Grenada's waterfalls. Every time he thought of the ring, he thought of Esmerelda. He'd bought it for her.

But had he? What if he had wanted to, was experiencing the desires he'd silenced in order to fulfill his duty to his people?

He sighed and let his head drop back onto the chair. He'd reviewed the laws of Rodina, along with the marriages of the past five generations of royals dating back to the mid-eighteen-hundreds. The heir apparent had always been bound by expectations and the best interests of the country.

All his speculation brought him, repeatedly, back to the one truth he didn't want to face. He had not found a way to strike a balance between his duty to his country and his feelings for Esmerelda.

Another bolt of lightning dove down toward the churning sea. Thunder followed less than a second later, roaring as if to let the whole world know of its immense power. It rumbled across Julius's skin, a not unpleasant feeling, and slowly he let his eyes drift shut.

The dream came to him, vivid and detailed.

Esmerelda naked beneath him, her body dotted with freckles. He kissed them, each one that he could, thrilling at the throaty sound of her laugh.

"There's too many for you to kiss them all."

"I don't mind trying." He kissed one on the curve of her hip, savored the hitch in her breath as his lips trailed to the fiery red curls between her legs. "Besides, we have all night. And as you like to point out, I'm very thorough."

Her laugh turned to a moan, her fingers threading through his hair as he made love to her with his lips.

"Julius..."

His heart twisted in his chest. He'd been denying it for months, telling himself he was mistaking appreciation for something more.

But as he moved up her body and covered her with his own, he knew it wasn't indebtedness or gratitude. No, he—

"Julius?"

She sat on the ottoman opposite him. Possessiveness gripped him at the sight of her in his dress shirt, her long legs shown off to perfection. The glimpse of freckled thigh that nearly made him groan out loud.

"I'm sorry to wake you."

"It's all right." He held up his glass. "Care to join me?"

Her eyes flickered to the whiskey.

"Yes."

Surprised, he tilted his head to one side. When he reached out for her hand, she placed her fingers in his grasp without hesitation.

"Is everything all right?"

The storm nearly drowned out the sound of her soft sigh.

"Yes. Just...restless."

He held out his own glass. She took a sip, her eyes drifting shut as she made a noise of appreciation he felt all the way to his groin.

"What's wrong?"

Thunder clapped once more. She stood, rubbing her hands on her bare thighs as she moved over to the decanter.

"Do you mind?"

He stood and crossed to her.

"No. But seeing as you're my guest," he said with a soft kiss on her lips, "I'll get it."

He poured her a glass, watched her fingers tighten as she accepted it and took a healthy sip before moving back to the ottoman.

"Is it the storm?"

She waited a moment, then slowly nodded. "I used to be scared of them. Now they don't bother me if I'm awake. But if they wake me up, it takes a while to get back to sleep."

"What did you do to get over your fear?"

She stared down into her glass. "I just...did."

He frowned. "What about your parents?"

"My mother was usually out at some function or another. My father told me to be brave."

Anger surged through him.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

He set his glass down on the table next to his chair and held out his hand.

"Come here."

She stared at his hand. For once her emotions were transparent and vivid. Fatigue, weariness, embarrassment.

But what made his pulse pound and his heartbeat quicken was the naked longing in her eyes.

Slowly, she set her own glass down and stood. He held his breath, waited until she was right in front of him, before he clasped her hand in his and gently tugged her down onto his lap. She curled into him, her face falling against his neck as he wrapped his arms around her and let his breath rush out as his body shuddered.

Home.

The thought appeared unbidden. The word inspired no memories, no recollections of a house or a castle or some other place. But he knew its meaning, knew in that moment that home would be wherever this woman was, so long as she was by his side.

"You're safe."

She leaned back slightly, her lips just a breath away from his.

"I know. I'm with you."

The trust she placed in him, her surrender, rendered him speechless. He cupped the back of her head, kissed her with a gentleness that seemed to surprise both of them. His other hand drifted down, tugging at the buttons of the shirt she wore. Revealing her freckled beauty inch by inch until the shirt whispered to the floor.

Before he could move, she stood. Pushed him back into his chair and knelt before him.

"Esmerelda—"

She placed a finger over his lips. "I want this, Julius."

His protests died as her fingers slid beneath the waistband of his silk pants. She unveiled his hard length, her hands teasing, her smile confident and glorious as she lowered her head and took him in her mouth. He groaned, his hands sliding into her hair as she ran her tongue over him, kissed him, brought him to the edge of control.

Her throaty chuckle nearly undid him. She moved, rising above him like a flame-haired siren as she straddled his lap and guided him inside her wet heat. Her body closed around him as she placed her hands on his chest and started to move. His hands closed over her waist, guided her as she rode him.

Lightning flashed. Thunder crashed. They both soared over the peak, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groan as she collapsed against him.

Julius awoke to sun streaming in through the windows and an empty bed. Unease sent a jolt of energy through him. He'd fallen asleep with Esmerelda in his arms, her face relaxed and content. Had she awoken and, satisfied with their one night, left? Or had she had second thoughts?

One way to find out.

He tossed back the covers and stood. He was in the process of pulling on a pair of shorts when the door to his room opened.

"Good morning."

Esmerelda walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee. With another sundress on, this one the color of bright lemons, her hair falling wild and untamed about her face, she looked relaxed. More herself, he realized with a satisfied smile as his apprehension slipped away. He accepted a mug and took a deep sip.

"I wondered where you were," he said. He leaned down and kissed her, satisfaction curling through him when she didn't pull away.

"I'm used to rising early," she said with a small smile. "Back in Rodina I had to get up at five a.m. in order to be ready for the day."

"Was that the time I set?"

"It was."

He grimaced. "Bastard."

She reached over and laid a hand on top of his.

"You owe it to your past self to give him a break. No, he wasn't the warmest and fuzziest of princes," she said with a small smile, "but he ruled and did very well for the people of Rodina."

"So you've said."

She stared down into her coffee mug, her sudden silence cluing him in that something was on her mind.

"What are you thinking?"

"One of the times I prompted you to take a break, you told me you couldn't. That there was work to be done. I said the work would still be there in five minutes." She looked at him then, sadness making the green of her eyes all the more vivid. "You said it would, but you might not be. That life was short and you had a duty to do your job while you could."

"My mother."

Just thinking of Elizabeth made his pulse pound in his throat.

"I believe so." Her hand settled on his once more.

They sat. Sadness permeated the air, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was healing, revisiting the memories he had reclaimed, finally allowing himself the chance to grieve as he suspected he never had.

"A conclusion I came to myself a couple days ago. I chose duty over grief. Logic over emotion."

"Understandable."

"For a time. But then it became comfortable. Easy." He squeezed her fingers. "I retreated into my indifference. It was cowardly."

"Cowardly." She echoed his word with a slight smile. "I was cowardly, too."

"How so?"

"I was very good at being a bodyguard. I'm active, I kept in good shape. I genuinely love Rodina, so serving in a role that helped me serve my country was appealing. But it also allowed me to put off examining my life. Figuring out what I wanted to do for me." She scoffed. "Isn't it awful that sometimes staying in the rhythm of past mistakes is easier than trying something new that could make you happier?"

"I did the same."

She looked at him then, her gaze thoughtful.

"Yes, you did."

A different type of intimacy settled between them. For the first time since he'd arrived, he felt as though they were seeing each other, truly, in all their beauty and faults. And still they sat side by side, content.

"Join me on the balcony."

She smiled and accepted his hand up. He kept his fingers wrapped around hers as they walked onto the terrace and settled at a bistro table by the edge. Aside from the glistening drops still clinging to the trees, there was no evidence of the storm that had battered the island the night before.

"What would you like for breakfast?" he asked.

"I've already had some fruit."

"Fruit is not breakfast," he replied. "You're on an island where you can have anything you want."

She glanced down, her cheeks turning red.

"That's one of the things I love."

Her head shot up, her eyes widening.

"What?"

"I can always tell your emotions by the color of your skin. For example, right now with that beautiful bright red and your cheeks like apples, I know you're embarrassed."

"Stuff it," she replied, her cheeks growing even redder.

"I also know," he added, his voice deepening, "that whenever you look like a rose, you're thinking about everything that we did last night."

A smile tugged at her lips.

"It is one of the curses of being a redhead."

"Not a curse." He paused. "It was one of the ways that I knew that there was more to our past relationship than what you were telling me."

He had mostly reconciled what had happened, the way she had manipulated the truth. But it lingered in the back of his mind. A conversation unfinished.

She glanced out over the ocean.

"I am sorry for that," she said softly. "It was never my intention to lie to you. It just..."

Her voice trailed off. Regret hit him as he remembered the pain in her voice when he'd first arrived. Her shock and pain.

"I'm sorry, Esmerelda. Unfortunately, that's all I know how to say now. I wish I could remember why. Could remember what I said."

Esme sighed.

"It was painful yes. But it was more how you did it, which we've already been over." She looked back down at her coffee. "I was embarrassed, too. I thought we had a little more time together. I thought that our affair was more than just a one-night stand. Not that I expected anything to come of it," she added quickly. "I always accepted that we were from different worlds. That you would have to eventually move on as I would. I just didn't expect for that to happen less than a week after we..." The rosiness returned to her cheeks. "After Paris."

"Why do you think it did? Truly."

"Your father is doing well for his age. But he's nearing seventy. He's been vocal about wanting to step down before he's seventy-five, perhaps sooner, and pass you the crown."

Julius's hand tightened around his cup. He could barely wrap his head around being a prince. Now he might be a king in less than five years?

"Hence his encouraging me to get engaged."

"I believe so." She sighed. "I wouldn't want my husband's former lover still around. It was an understandable move."

Jealousy seized him at the mention of her phantom spouse. The thought of any other man touching her the way he had, saying vows to cherish and protect, having a family with her, made him want to hurl his mug at the wall.

"No, it wasn't."

"But—"

"No buts, Esmerelda. I treated you horribly after everything you did for me. Not just saving my life, but serving me selflessly for over a year." She opened her mouth, probably to utter another protest. "Don't let my slightly better treatment of you than how your parents treated you eclipse the fact that I handled things the wrong way."

Her lips parted as her eyes widened. She sat back in her chair, eyes blinking rapidly.

"Well," she finally said, "that was profound."

"And accurate."

"To a point." She held up a hand to silence his own protest. "One bad deed does not deserve another. I could have simply put you off instead of lying." She glanced out toward the sea, her expression turning pensive. "But it did help. I don't think I would have ever left if you hadn't given me a reason to."

"Do you think staying in Rodina would have held you back?"

"I'd like to think not. But I was always living my life for someone else. The love my parents offered me was conditional on doing what they wanted for me. What they thought was best." Her chest rose and fell on a soft sigh. "I didn't realize how much I needed to make a choice for myself until I was on that plane flying away." She turned back, her smile glowing. "I've already grown so much these past few weeks. Imagine what could happen next. I could be anyone I wanted to be. Not something someone else wants for me."

His chest twisted into a hard knot. The right thing to do was be happy for her, be glad that she had found purpose amidst pain. Yet as he looked at her, the confident tilt of her chin, the slight smile on her lips, all he felt was something dark and desolate, a hollowness that rivaled the emptiness in his mind.

He stood, set both their mugs on the table, and pulled her to her feet, indulging in a long kiss that seeped into his veins and banished the heaviness that had settled on his shoulders.

"What were you thinking you wanted for breakfast that made you blush?"

"Oysters."

He arched a brow. "Is that meant to be foreplay?"

She laughed. "No, I've just always associated oysters with vacations and indulgence."

"Did I eat them?"

"I don't know. I was paying more attention to the crowds and possible assassins instead of watching what you had on your plate."

He lightly swatted her on the rear for her impudent answer before swinging her into his arms, enjoying her gasp of surprise before he set her back in her chair.

"Well, I don't know if I enjoy them or not, but I'll try them."

He texted Aroldo. Fifteen minutes the butler brought out a silver tray laden with eggs Benedict, fresh fruit, a variety of cheeses and in the middle of the tray a silver bowl with raw oysters on ice.

Aroldo glanced between the two of them, a small smile on his face as he set the table.

"Enjoy, Your Highness...miss."

He bowed his head and disappeared back into the villa. Esmerelda made a soft noise that sounded like a strangled laugh.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Yes."

"Oh, God." Her hands flew up and covered her face.

"He's seen far worse than some rumpled sheets, believe me."

"I know, but he seems so...fatherly. It's like getting caught naked."

"If you're suggesting we go back in and make love again, I'm all for it."

Her laugh trickled over him. "And ruin all of Aroldo's hard work?"

They dined on the eggs and fruit. Julius nearly choked on the first oyster he tried.

"It's slimy."

Esmerelda dipped hers in the small container filled with cocktail sauce and popped it into her mouth, her eyes drifting shut as she moaned.

"They're delicious."

"Slimy," Julius repeated.

"More for me, then."

He watched, amused and grateful to see her like this. Relaxed, joyful. Even though so much of his identity remained wrapped up tightly in his mind, even though their future together remained up in the air, he felt happy for the first time in his limited memory.

They spent the rest of the morning on the terrace by the pool, alternatively lounging in the chairs and swimming in the warm waters. A shower after lunch led to him wrapping her water-slicked legs around his waist and driving himself into her, her back pressed against the tiles, her mouth fused to his. The afternoon included a ride in a Jeep and a hike to a waterfall, where Esmerelda terrified and aroused him by jumping off a cliff into one of the pools. When he chastised her, she splashed him, resulting in a battle that ended with them laying on a stretch of sand behind the falls, kissing and running their hands over each other until they worked themselves into a frantic frenzy. They'd barely made it back to the villa before he'd carried her to his room and made love to her again.

Dinner was salad and a Grenadian stew, discreetly left under a tray on the terrace table with a note from Aroldo stating that he would return in the morning. They lingered over the wine, talked, savored each other's company and then savored one another's bodies once more as the sky darkened. They fell asleep once again wrapped in each other's arms.

It was around midnight when Julius awoke and remembered.