Summer Fling with a Prince

by Katrina Cudmore

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I didn’t see the point at the time, reckoning that he obviously had his reasons. With hindsight perhaps it was because I kept myself apart from the team to a certain extent. Perhaps he wanted me to prove just how committed I was to the team.’ Rolling his shoulders, trying to ease a kink of tension at the base of his neck, he added, ‘Once I was back on the starting eight he started calling me the Machine, and it stuck from there.’

  ‘And did you mind being called that?’

  He shook his head. It could have been so easy to have fallen into the trap of giving way to the bitter disappointment of being dropped by a coach he had idolised, but the experience had been a valuable lesson in digging deep and staying focused and determined. ‘It was a useful reputation for intimidating the opposition...and for my own mind-set. Rowing is as much psychological tactics as it is physical.’

  ‘And now in business?’

  ‘Clients like it—they want an investment manager who runs on logic and not emotion.’

  ‘How about your team at Pacolore?’

  He gave a wry smile. She saw straight through to where his style came undone. ‘Let’s say that it’s a work in progress... I try to remind myself to take time out to be supportive.’

  ‘From what I saw on Friday, your staff hold you in very high regard.’ She paused, frowning before she continued. ‘Honesty and openness are the lifelines of any relationship—whether it’s personal or professional. Maybe if Dan and I had been more honest with each other, the same with my dad, then I could have avoided so much upset. I used to pretend to everyone, including myself, that I was okay with my dad coming and going from my life. But maybe if I had been honest and said how much it hurt me, demanded more of him, then we could have had a better relationship.’ Meeting his gaze, she added in a low voice, ‘Sometimes the easiest option is to say nothing...but that doesn’t make it right.’

  After his mother’s death he had tried to talk to his father but his father hadn’t wanted to listen and had shut him down immediately. What would have happened if he had insisted on being heard and had spoken about the awfulness, the guilt of it all?

  And perhaps the same could be said for all of his relationships in the world of rowing. He had kept a deliberate distance from everyone, only trusting in himself, uncomfortable with the idea of asking for even a semblance of help and support. Would he have felt less isolated, less apart from his teammates if he had had the courage to openly talk about his race-day nerves and how they had sometimes paralysed him? Or spoken about his frustrations and fears with the shoulder injuries that had been a feature of his entire career. It might be too late to amend the past but he could be honest with Toni. ‘When you’re unsure you talk. I go silent instead.’

  Her head tilted to the side, her eyes silently asking him to explain what he meant. He swallowed, the irony of the situation not lost on him. He fought against his natural inclination to clam up, doubts as to what he was admitting holding him hostage. He went to speak, stopped, tried again. ‘At Luis’s wedding...you completely stole my voice. I’m not usually that silent.’

  She blinked, those huge, soulful brown eyes sucking him in. ‘I did?’

  ‘You looked incredible.’

  ‘I was a red-eyed emotional mess.’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He grinned at her surprise, her slow smile freeing what felt like years of silence and caution and wariness of others. ‘I thought you should know.’

  ‘Well, thank you for your honesty.’

  He laughed at her teasing gravity. Lifting the olive oil bottle, he asked in a low voice, ‘So, do you want me to show you some other ways this can be used?’

  * * *

  For crying out loud, it was hard enough to resist him when he was all serious and cranky, but his sexy grin and the memories of all his touches and kisses and whispers last night were playing havoc with her self-control.

  What would Kara and Alice say about it all? Would they worry for her? Perhaps, but somehow she reckoned that they would both be delighted that she was enjoying life again. And what was the harm? Both she and Ivo knew this was a fleeting moment in both of their lives. Nothing more than chemistry and opportunity playing out.

  Yes, she had felt a pang of disappointment when she had woken earlier to find him gone, but she refused to dwell on the significance of it. They didn’t owe each other explanations and she wasn’t going to over-analyse his every move. Wasn’t this the new type of person she wanted to be—laid back, carefree, not given to overthinking life?

  Standing, she lowered the umbrella and, tossing a bottle of sun cream to him, she asked, ‘Can you rub this into my back?’

  She pulled off her top and then her shorts. Her heart hammered in her chest as his heated silver gaze moved down over her body. She lay down on her front on the sunbed, twisting her head to watch him.

  Above her the hot morning sun beat down on her exposed skin, but it was nothing in comparison to the heat licking her insides as he moved to kneel beside her sunbed.

  She jerked when he flipped open the top with his thumb, a devilish gleam in his eye. He squeezed a long trail of the white cream into his palm. Her eyelids closed involuntarily, a long, slow sigh moving through her body as the warm weight of his hand touched her collarbone, making circular movements down over her shoulder blades. She arched her back instinctively, pushing her groin into the thick cushion beneath her as his hand drifted down her spine, his other hand lifting up her bikini top to allow him to apply the cream there too.

  She screwed her eyes shut even tighter, wishing he would say something to break the intense and ever-growing tension between them...wishing she could find something to say herself but knowing that if she opened her mouth a deep sexual purr would escape.

  She pushed her hips even further into the bed when his hand moved down to the base of her spine, stifling a groan when he reached the scalloped edge of her bikini bottoms.

  ‘Toni.’

  Her whole body arched at his deep whisper and she opened her eyes, her heart fluttering at the playful desire in his eyes. His fingers danced over her lower back, skimming her bikini bottoms. And then a finger ran down over her thigh. ‘I’ll do your legs too...just to be safe.’

  ‘It’s okay, I can do it...’ She trailed off, giving up any pretence that she’d rather do it herself. Who was she trying to kid?

  His smile grew even darker, more devilish. He started at her ankles, his huge hands capturing both at the same time, performing some magical pressure. She bit down on her lip, thrown by how malleable she was in his hands, every inch of her self-restraint dissolving rapidly. Instead she felt an unburdened, delicious, innate hunger that made her body feel weightless except for the heavy pulse of desire in her very centre.

  His hands worked their way up past the backs of her knees, over her thighs, and then his fingers moved to graze over the intimate space between her legs.

  Unable to take much more, she flipped over, her cheeks blazing.

  He blinked for a moment, their gazes clashing, hunger and desire obvious, neither of them trying to deny it.

  He yanked off his polo shirt. She breathed in deeply, the glory of his broad, rock-hard chest and moulded abs setting off tiny firecrackers of lust in her stomach. She grinned in approval, arching her back a fraction. She was rewarded with his gaze darkening even further.

  He placed a finger at the base of her throat and very slowly and deliberately ran it down over her breastbone, into the valley between her breasts, her already hardened nipples bunching even tighter.

  Down, down, down his finger travelled, skimming over her belly button until it reached the edge of her bikini.

  He raised an eyebrow in question.

  And her heart exploded in gratitude that once again he wanted to make sure that she was okay w
ith every step of this. This wasn’t dangerous...this was safe. Her throat tightened with emotion. And she nodded yes.

  But his finger didn’t move. Instead he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her tenderly, his lips brushing over hers. The emotion in her throat tightened.

  He pulled away, but his eyes remained glued to hers as his hand moved down over the fabric of the bikini and her hips rose automatically, her legs shifting ever so slightly apart.

  She closed her eyes as his feather-light touch left her light-headed and disorientated. She groaned when his lips moved to her throat, her hands threading through his hair, curling down to caress the warm, broad stretch of his seemingly never-ending shoulders.

  ‘Your body is incredible...so soft, so sensual.’

  She tried to respond to him but she was incapable of anything other than nodding. In those moments she believed that her body was incredible, given the conviction of his voice. He did this to her all the time—looked at her with such regard and tenderness that it emboldened her, made her feel seen and treasured.

  Opening her eyes, her heart flipped at the intensity of his gaze, deeply moved by how utterly seriously he wanted to give her pleasure. She shifted upwards, found his mouth, dragging him down with her, her entire body igniting at the firm heat of his lips.

  She may have initiated the kiss but he soon took over the lead, his lips parting hers, his tongue exploring her mouth. It was a deep, lusty kiss that had her body arch, her nipples tighten, her breasts feel heavy and generous.

  She gasped into the kiss when his hand skimmed over her stomach and up over her breasts, his hand cupping the tight swell, her nipple pressing hard into the softness of his palm.

  She arched once again, her hands running over the bunched muscles of his back, his biceps, and the powerful and tight muscles of his waist, her hunger for him even more intense now that she knew what was to come, thanks to last night.

  Crying out when his thumb flicked against her nipple, he somehow flipped them over in one smooth movement so that he was lying on the sunbed and she was on top.

  For a moment she grew still, dazed by the shift, dazed at the freedom of lying on top of him but not sure that she actually wanted the vulnerability that came with lying half-naked on top of him. But there was something deeply sensual about the way the breeze was kissing her skin and she shifted her legs to either side of his wide thighs, anchoring her knees into the mattress. She gazed down at him, her mouth involuntary opening when his hands moved from her waist down over her bottom. Her head reared back, her nipples scraping over the solidity of his chest.

  She kissed him again, deep and unapologetic, the movement of his hips under hers telling her that he liked what she was doing.

  Long shivers ran through her as his fingers trailed over her spine. He was finding sensitive spots in her body she’d never known even existed—the indents at the bottom of her spine, the point where her neck ran into her collarbone.

  He pulled the string of her bikini top, whispering for her to sit up. And when she did, he eased himself up too. Inch by inch he lifted her bikini up, his eyes drinking in the shape of her breasts. He pulled her closer, his hands resting on her bottom, his mouth closing over her nipple. She shuddered long and hard, the sensation exquisite.

  He pulled away, desire tightening his expression. And she saw it in him too—bewilderment mixed in with demanding need. How could this be so powerful? What were they unleashing?

  He eased down her top, reaching behind her to retie the strings.

  Unable to move, she stared at him in shock. Was that it?

  But, taking hold of her hips, he guided her until she lay beside him, pulling her into his arms so that her ear was pressed against his chest, his pounding heart pulsing against her skin. He stroked her hair and whispered gently, ‘Later.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE DRINKS RECEPTION for the small group who had attended Gabriela’s christening took place in the palace’s garden room. Clusters of white roses, named in honour of her birth, adorned the room that overlooked Monrosa harbour.

  Seated with his uncle Johan, Ivo tried to concentrate on his uncle’s concerns over recent financial investments he had made, but his attention kept being drawn back to Toni, who was standing at the opposite side of the room, moving amongst the guests, introducing herself with ease, her cheerful demeanour, her natural enthusiasm, breaking down any resistance the other guests might have to a newcomer in their circle. Now that she was wearing a knee-length fitted pale pink dress, her hair held back with a tortoiseshell comb, it was hard to compute her elegance with the tousle-haired, sensual woman who had gazed down at him with such open hunger only a few hours ago. He didn’t want this elegance, he wanted her raw and sensual. He wanted her naked and a bundle of sexual tension.

  It had taken every ounce of his self-will to pull away from her on the beach. He had wanted to tear away those scant pieces of cloth and worship again her body that was so incredibly responsive. Her skin, her scent, the way her body uncoiled, her gasps, turned him on in a way he had never experienced before. She slotted against his body seamlessly, her femininity a perfect embodiment of everything that was amazing about life.

  And that, right there, was exactly the reason why he had pulled away. He wasn’t making sense any more...even to himself.

  Moving to talk to Edwin and Kara, she glanced in his direction and frowned as though trying to figure something out. He looked away when she smiled at him, hating how much he wanted to be at her side. This was alien territory to him, to actively not want to be alone.

  He breathed in deeply, rattling off some statistics to Johan on world market movements and central bank predictions, while he watched Toni chat to Edwin, who had grown in stature and unadulterated happiness since Gabriela’s arrival.

  Kara, holding Gabriela, was chatting with Luis, who was cooing over his new niece, Kara giggling over whatever Luis was saying, Gabriela staring at her uncle, no doubt as charmed as every other girl who had ever met his brother.

  Edwin and Luis were working closely together now. Edwin’s second in command, Luis was also the chair of Monrosa’s tourism sector, which played a vital role in the country’s economy. He had always felt apart from his brothers, but now more so than ever, not only because of their close working relationship but also their mutual delight in their marriages.

  He stayed where he was seated when Johan excused himself to go in search of his aunt, Princess Maria, his attention once again drawn back to Toni, who was laughing at something Luis was saying to her. He tore his eyes away, fighting the empty sensation opening up in his stomach. And then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Instinctively turning, he saw his father, who was seated by the palace’s permanent elaborate display of orchids that had been his mother’s passion. His father was staring towards him, nodding at what Alice was saying to him, no doubt something to do with the latest of the Monrosian history books they wrote together detailing the trials and tribulations of his ancestors, which were proving to be huge international hits, but Ivo could tell that his father’s concentration was in fact on him.

  What did he want? Why the staring? His father was changing. Retirement and the arrival of his first grandchild were softening him, and Ivo didn’t know how to deal with it. He especially didn’t know how to deal with his father’s awkward enquiries on how Pacolore was doing. Only last month he had unexpectedly arrived at the finca and they had spent an uncomfortable hour in each other’s company, the sovereign investment portfolio the only topic of conversation that they had been able to settle upon. His father had left with the disgruntled expression of someone who had not achieved what he had set out to do. Ivo wasn’t a fool. He knew his father was trying to patch up their relationship. But how do you heal twenty years of silence?

  His father stood and walked towards him. He stood too, darting a glance in Toni’s direction, intending to go and speak
to her as an excuse to avoid his father. But she too was coming towards him, holding Gabriela, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.

  His father was moving closer. Ivo stepped towards Toni. ‘We should be leaving.’

  She shook her head, handing Gabriela to him. ‘This little lady would like some time with you first.’ Then, turning to his father, she smiled in welcome and went and sat on the chair opposite him, a deliberate move in order to let the chair next to him be free.

  * * *

  How did Ivo manage to look so comfortable holding Gabriela? Wasn’t he scared of dropping her the way she was? And God only knew how she would cope if Gabriela started crying. She had zero experience with babies. In truth, they terrified her. During the christening ceremony Ivo had lifted his niece from her father’s arms and had held and cosseted her like a pro, performing a little jiggle to quell her whimpers when she had grown restless. Ivo set himself apart from his family, his silence even more pronounced in their company. But could Gabriela help heal the silent distance between them?

  Now Gabriela’s hand curled around Ivo’s finger and he smiled down at her, truly enchanted with his niece. He looked so gorgeous... The Machine taken down by a cooing baby.

  She caught Ivo’s father’s eye and cringed at his speculative gaze. Oh, great, he had spotted her mooning over Ivo.

  ‘I understand that you are interviewing Ivo.’

  Other than when Ivo had introduced her earlier, when it was obvious that he didn’t remember her from Luis and Alice’s wedding, this was the first time Ivo’s father had spoken to her.

  ‘That’s correct, Your Highness.’

  His father lifted an eyebrow. ‘Are you having much success?’

  Ivo looked sharply at his father and then at her, his expression tensing.

  ‘Yes, it’s...’ She bit back a smile. ‘Ivo is surprising me in many, many ways.’

  She resisted the temptation to laugh at Ivo’s horrified expression and turned her attention back to his father. ‘It’s the most pleasurable and thought-provoking interview I have ever conducted and your son is an amazing man.’