‘Ruby Wetherspoon, you listen to me. This isn’t about his expectations. This is about yours. You don’t need to be a princess or a supermodel. You’re better than both. He is lucky to have met you. He’s lucky you agreed to go and help with his daughter. This isn’t about you being good enough for him. The question is: is Prince Perfect good enough for you?’
Trust Polly. She could always boost her confidence and make her feel better. It was like having her own professional cheerleader and piranha all in one. But whilst she loved what Polly was saying, she just wasn’t sure she believed it.
Polly hadn’t finished talking. ‘And as for the forks—just start on the outside and work your way in. Never fails.’
Ruby was shaking her head. ‘I like him, Polly. I really like him. But this is a whole other country. There’s so many people watching me. So many people watching him.’
‘He’s a prince, Ruby. What do you want?’
She sighed. ‘I want to do normal things. I want to get to know him better. I want the chance to go out and have a glass of wine with him. I want to go to the cinema and fight about who is the best action hero or the best Star Trek captain—’
‘Picard.’ Polly cut her off quickly. ‘It’s always Picard.’
Ruby heard the squeak of furniture as Polly obviously sat down.
‘I hate to break it to you, honey, but going for a glass of wine and heading to the multiplex is probably a no-no. Anyway—doesn’t Alex have a whole cinema in the palace?’
‘Probably. I don’t know. I just can’t think straight around him, Pol. He walks in a room and my whole body—it just tingles.’ She gave a little shake as she said the words.
‘Oh, no. No tingling. Definitely no tingling.’
‘People here—they’re different. The way they treat Alex. The way they treat me when I’m with Alex...’
Her voice drifted off as her train of thought started to take her down the railway line to mild panic.
‘His mother spoke four languages. I can’t do that. I know nothing about politics. Or history. Or modern studies. I only got a passing grade in geography because I memorised stuff about eroding coastlines.’
‘What exactly do you think you’re auditioning for here, Rubes? You’re a speech and language therapist—an expert in your field. You’ve published professional papers. You work at one of the finest hospitals in London. Why do you think you’re not good enough for him?’
She started shaking her head. ‘It’s not that I think I’m not good enough. I’m just worried. Alex wants to give us a chance—I want to give us a chance—but what about the rest of the world?’
‘Hang the rest of the world, Ruby. This is your life. Not theirs.’ Polly groaned. ‘You know I want you back here with me. But ten years, Ruby. Ten years you waited for this guy to come back into your life. You can’t let what anyone else thinks matter.’
Ruby straightened up. Polly was right. Alex was right. He was just trying to prepare her. Trying to let her understand that things might be difficult.
But Alex de Castellane wanted her—Ruby Wetherspoon. It had to mean something.
She walked over to the other side of the cabin. ‘Oh, Pol. He’s bought me clothes.’
‘Again? What is he—a personal shopper or a prince?’
She lifted up a scrap of material from the bed and squinted at it—trying to imagine what it covered. ‘Well, they’re not clothes, exactly. More like tiny bits of cloth. I think they’re supposed to be for swimming.’ She started to laugh and shake her head as she moved her phone to snap a picture and send it to Polly. ‘What on earth is that supposed to cover?’
There were five different styles of swimming costume on the bed, along with a whole host of scraps doing their best impression of itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikinis. She picked up the first and checked the label. At least they were her size—but there was no way she was wearing one in front of Alex. Not right now anyway.
There was a screech at the other end of the phone as Polly got the photo. She started howling with laughter. ‘Gotta go, honey—the baby’s crying. But, please—if you wear that you’ve got to send me a photo!’
Ruby smiled as the call was disconnected. She always felt better after talking to Polly. But Polly’s life had moved on. They were still best friends. But Polly had a husband and a baby. She’d found her happy-ever-after. What about Ruby’s?
She picked up a red swimsuit, slightly padded with a ruched front. Perfect. Something that actually covered the parts it should. It only took two minutes to put it on, and she grabbed a sheer black sarong to knot around her waist.
It was time to get out there.
Let’s find out.
* * *
Alex was doing his best impression of a male model in white trunks. She gulped. She was going to have to avert her eyes. Either that or put a sign on her head saying that if she looked at that area it would make her knees go weak.
He was waiting for her out on deck and he led her around to the back of the yacht this time. Again there were some seats, but Alex had also laid down towels on a flat area overhanging the edge. There was no ladder down the side. This flat part seemed to have been designed purely for getting in and out of the sea.
She sat down on a white towel and blushed as she noticed his appreciative gaze. ‘What do you normally use this for?’
‘Diving. I used to do a lot of diving with friends. Nothing too spectacular. Just for fun. So when I commissioned the yacht I knew I wanted a diving platform attached.’
‘You commissioned the yacht? You didn’t just buy it from a catalogue? Just how rich are you, Alex?’
She was laughing as she said the words and turned to dip her toes in the water. Even though the sun was blistering hot the sea was cold.
‘Youch!’
She pulled her feet back in as Alex laughed. ‘Here.’ He tossed her some sunscreen. ‘Put some of this on or you’ll burn your nose.’
It was easy to forget how hot the sun was with the sea breezes around them. She smeared some sunscreen on her face, arms and legs, then stood behind him, poised to put some cream on his back.
But he grabbed her arm and pulled her into his lap. ‘I’ve already got some. You, however, need some on your back. Give me that.’
He squirted some cream on his hands and started to rub it over her back. She was almost scared to move. Her position was precarious. They were right at the edge of the moored boat and she was balancing on his knees. Right now there were only two very thin pieces of fabric separating them. Her right arm was pressing against his bare chest, the dark curling hairs tickling her skin.
His hand movements slowed, going from initially brisk and efficient to sensual, circling her back, slipping under the straps on her shoulders and smearing cream across every part of her skin. She breathed in sharply and his hand circled lower, fingertips sweeping below her swimsuit.
His voice was husky, his accent thicker. ‘You didn’t like the bikinis?’
‘I didn’t like me in the bikinis.’
‘Why ever not?’ His fingers slowed and stopped, staying just underneath the back of her costume. ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Ruby.’
She felt her cheeks flush, instantly embarrassed by his words—which was ironic, really, since she was sitting half clothed in his lap. Could anyone see them, sitting here on the back of his yacht? In front of her all she could see was the Mediterranean Sea. There wasn’t even another boat in sight.
His hand moved gently around her waist, touching the fabric of her costume and resting next to the knot of her sarong. ‘This is definitely your colour. You suit red, Ruby. It seems as though your mother named you well.’
‘My mother named me after the ruby slippers in The Wizard of Oz. But I’ll tell her you appreciate her choice,’ she teased.
This was too
much. She was sitting here, feeling the rise and fall of his chest next to her arm, the warmth between his skin and hers. Their faces were inches apart. Not touching him properly was torture.
She moved that little inch, putting her hand at the back of his head and tugging him closer until their lips touched. His fingers started tugging at the knot on her sarong. It fell apart easily.
The kiss quickly intensified. She could easily tell the effect their close contact was having on his body—just as it was having an effect on hers. Kissing him was too easy.
They weren’t in Paris any more. It wasn’t New Year’s Eve. But she could almost hear the fireworks going off in her head.
The sun wasn’t heating her skin any more—Alex was. Every nibble, every tiny touch of his tongue electrified her. She let out a little moan as their kiss deepened, his hands running up and down the bare skin on her back.
‘Ruby...’ he muttered.
‘What?’ She didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want this moment to end.
‘We’re out in the open. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but...’ His voice tailed off.
She was still kissing him, never wanting it to end.
A few minutes ago the sea had seemed deserted. But other boats had passed them on their journey around the coastline. And the crew might not come down here, but if she didn’t stop this now...she might live to regret it.
She broke the kiss. ‘Alex?’
‘What?’ He looked up, those gorgeous blue eyes connecting with hers.
She smiled. ‘You’re right. It’s time to cool off.’
Her arms were still wrapped around him and she just leaned backwards, pulling them both into the cold blue sea.
The plunge was a little further than she’d expected, and the shock of the cold water on her skin pushed the air from her lungs as it closed around her. It only took a few seconds to push to the surface and break out into the warm sun. She was laughing and coughing and spluttering all at once.
She slicked her wet hair back from her face as Alex surfaced next to her, shaking his head and showering her with droplets of water.
‘This is getting to be a habit,’ he said as he swam next to her and put his hands around her waist underwater.
The cold water was doing nothing to dampen their desire and she wound her hands around his neck again as they trod water.
‘It is, isn’t it? Maybe you and I shouldn’t be around water.’ She laughed.
‘What should we be around?’ he asked as the waves buoyed them up.
‘I don’t know. Pink palaces, Eiffel Towers, fireworks and yellow dresses.’ She could see the twinkle in his eye as she said those last words.
‘Come on,’ he gestured towards her. ‘Let’s swim around the boat. It might be best if we have some water between us.’
Her hand touched his arm as they separated in the water.
They laughed and swam around the boat, occasionally stopping next to each other as Alex told her a little more about his country.
‘The caves down there were traditionally used by pirates.’
There were two dark caves carved into the bottom of the cliffs on the rocky shoreline. Her body had grown accustomed to the temperature of the water but she still gave a shudder.
‘No way. Fairytales. Made-up stories.’
He lifted his hand out of the water. ‘You forget—this is a land with a pink palace. You think we didn’t have pirates?’
‘When you put it like that it doesn’t seem quite so crazy.’
‘I’ll show you some of the things in the castle vaults. I think my ancestors might have been in league with the pirates. Either that or they just kept everything once they’d captured the pirates.’
‘Are you allowed to do that?’
He shrugged his shoulders as they continued to swim around the boat. ‘We have some old doubloons, some jewellery and some weapons. The assumption is that they are Spanish, but the Spaniards didn’t want them back when they were offered a few hundred years ago. There isn’t enough to be of any real value—we’ve kept them safe because of the historical importance.’
She kept swimming. ‘I’m going to add that to my list of conditions from earlier—a visit to the pirate caves.’ She winked, ‘I might even ask you to dress up.’
As they rounded the hull of the yacht another boat came into view. It was not quite as big as Alex’s, but equally sleek in white and silver.
Alex sighed. ‘Let’s get back on board.’
‘Do you know who owns that boat?’
He stroked out towards the diving platform. ‘It’s Randall Merr and his wife. They can be unbearable. I’ll tell the crew to head back to port.’
Randall Merr. A billionaire with houses all over the world—including in Euronia.
Part of her stomach twisted. Maybe Alex didn’t want to introduce her to his friends? Maybe he was embarrassed by her?
She put her head in the water and struck out towards the platform. Alex reached it first and turned round to help her out of the water, offering her a towel and her sarong.
The electricity between them seemed to have dissipated. All of a sudden she felt very exposed—and it wasn’t because she was wearing only swimwear. The magic bubble that she’d felt earlier around her and Alex had vanished in the blink of an eye.
‘Ruby, what’s wrong?’
He was picking up the other towels and the sunscreen from around them.
She started up the steps. ‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m going to put some clothes on.’ She hated that tiny waver in her voice.
He caught her arm. ‘Ruby, tell me what’s wrong. Are you angry with me?’
The words that were spinning around in her brain tumbled out of her mouth unchecked. Nothing she would ever really want him to hear.
‘Why would I be angry with you, Alex? You tell me it’s up to me to decide how this goes—then as soon as we see someone you know you try and bundle me away. As if I’m some kind of employee you can’t be seen with. Which, when you think about it, I really am—aren’t I?’
His brow crumpled and confusion swept over his face. He shook his head and tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her hard against him. She was above him, on the first step of the stairs. Their faces were perfectly level.
‘You think I want to hide you? After everything I’ve said?’
His nose was almost touching hers and his eyes were blazing. She’d angered him.
But instead of being intimidated she just felt another fire spark within her. ‘Well, that’s what it looks like.’
His lips connected with hers. His hands jerked her hipbones against his. This was no delicate kiss. This was no teasing, no playing with her. This was pure and utter passion.
His hands moved from her hips and his fingers tangled in her hair, tugging her head one way then another. His teeth clashed with hers and his tongue drove its way into her mouth. She could hardly breathe. He was devouring her.
He finally released her just as the white boat passed directly behind the yacht. It was so close the yacht bobbed wildly in its wake.
‘There,’ he growled, without even turning around. ‘Randall Merr and his wife got a prime-time view. If you didn’t want anyone to know about us it’s too late. That woman practically has a satellite connection to the world’s press.’
She gulped. Was that really what she wanted?
Truth was, she hadn’t answered Alex because she was unsure.
She wasn’t unsure about him. Not for a second. But she was definitely unsure about his world.
How could she possibly ever fit in to his lifestyle? She was already sure that some of the staff didn’t like her and suspected something might be in the air between them.
She wanted the Alex she’d met ten years ago in Paris. The gor
geous, slightly mysterious man with a bit of an accent.
But that wasn’t Alex at all. This was Alex. The acting ruler of one country and potentially the temporary head of another. The father of a young daughter. The son of a sick man. A businessman with the financial responsibility for all the inhabitants of his country.
Her Alex had only really ever existed in her head.
And whilst the living, breathing Alex in front of her was sexier than she could ever have dreamed of, she was still wondering if this was all a figment of her imagination.
After ten years he’d come looking for her.
After ten years he’d told her he’d let her decide the pace.
She was finding it hard to believe it. These were the kind of dreams she’d had ten years ago and never told anyone about.
Alex de Castellane had spent his life surrounded by supermodels and movie stars. They all flocked to his country—a tax haven. They all wanted to be seen with him, to be photographed with him.
And Alex, Prince Regent, was charming. He knew how to show interest and talk to people as if they were the only ones in the room. There was something enigmatic about him. And for most people it would be easy to get lost in his world.
But Ruby was different. Ruby wasn’t looking for a fairytale.
Maybe the Alex she’d always imagined was just a figment of her imagination. Maybe he’d never really existed.
The man she’d spent a few hours with that night had been excited about life. Had had plans for the future. He’d offered to show her around Paris and she had gladly accepted.
Accepted the chance to spend a few more hours in his company. Accepted the chance to be the focus of his attention for a few more hours.
Would she have accepted any of it if she’d known his real identity?
Most of the world would have screamed yes. Most of the world would have claimed it was every girl’s dream to be a princess. But most of the world wasn’t Ruby Wetherspoon.
The Prince She Never Forgot (Harlequin Romance) Page 11
