To Kiss a King

by Maureen Child

  She wondered how many of the people laughing, talking, planning a lazy day at the beach were like her—on holiday and already dreading the return to their real world.

  “Alex?”

  She turned her head to look at him and found his gaze locked on her. “Sorry. Must have been daydreaming.”

  “Didn’t look like much of a daydream. What’s got you frowning?”

  He was far too perceptive, she thought and warned herself to guard her emotions more closely. “Just thinking that I don’t want my holiday to end.”

  “Everything ends,” he said quietly. “The trick is not to worry about the ending so much that you don’t enjoy what you’ve got while you’ve got it.”

  Nodding, she said, “You’re absolutely right.”

  “I usually am,” he teased. “Ask anybody.”

  “You’re insufferable, aren’t you?”

  “Among many other things,” he told her, and she felt a tug of something inside her when his mouth curved just the slightest bit.

  Then he turned his back on the busy street and looked out at the water. She followed his gaze, and nearly sighed at the perfection of the view. Tiny, quick-footed birds dashed in and out of the incoming tide. Lovers walked along the shore and children built castles in the sand.

  Castles.

  She sighed a little at the reminder of her daydream, of the world waiting for her return.

  “So no big plans for today then?” he asked.

  “No,” she said with a suddenly determined sigh, “just to see as much as I can. To enjoy the day.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me. How about we explore the town a little then take a drive along the coast?”

  Relief sparkled inside her. She had been sure he’d have to leave. Go to work. Do whatever he normally did when not spending time with a runaway princess. “Really? That sounds wonderful. If you’re sure you don’t have to be somewhere…”

  “I’m all yours,” he said, spreading his arms as if offering himself to her.

  And ooh, the lovely sizzle that thought caused. “You don’t have to be at work?”

  “Nope. I’m taking a few days off.”

  “Well, then, lucky me.”

  The waitress approached with the check, Garrett pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them to her.

  “Hmm, that reminds me,” Alex said when the woman was gone again. “You owe me five dollars.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “For what?”

  She folded her arms on the table. “We had a wager yesterday and you never did guess where I’m from.”

  He nodded, gaze locked on hers, and warmth dazzled her system. Honestly, if he were to reach out and touch her while staring at her as he was, Alex was sure she’d simply go up in flames.

  “So we did,” he said and reached into his wallet again.

  “You don’t have to actually pay me,” she said, reaching out to stop him. Her hand touched his and just as she’d suspected, heat surged through her like an out of control wildfire. She pulled her hand back quickly, but still the heat lingered. “I just wanted you to admit you lost. You did buy breakfast after all.”

  “I always pay my debts,” he said and pulled out a five. Before he could hand it over, though, Alex dug into her purse for a pen and gave it to him. “What’s this for?”

  “Sign it,” she said with a shrug and a smile. “That way I’ll always remember winning my first wager.”

  He snorted an unexpected laugh. “That was your first bet?”

  No one but her brothers—and they didn’t count—ever made bets with a princess. It would be considered tacky. A tiny sigh escaped her before she could stop it. How much she had missed just because of how things might “look.” “You’re my first—outside my family of course. And I did pretty well, I think, don’t you? I did earn five dollars.”

  “So you did,” he said, clearly amused. “Okay then…” He took her pen, scrawled a message, signed it and handed both the pen and the money to her.

  Alex looked down and read, “Payment in full to Alex from Garrett.” She lifted her gaze, cocked her head and said, “I still don’t know your last name.”

  He nodded. “Don’t know yours, either.”

  “Seems odd, don’t you think?” Her gaze dropped to his signature. It was bold, strong and she had no doubt that a handwriting analyst would say that Garrett was confident, powerful and even a little arrogant.

  “I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours,” he taunted.

  Her gaze snapped to his. Tell him her last name? She considered it for a second or two. Wells was common enough; maybe he wouldn’t think anything of it. But then again, if he put her first name with her last, it might ring a familiar bell that she’d rather remain silent.

  She was having too much fun as “just Alex” to want to give it up this early in her holiday. So why risk it? Why insist on last names when it didn’t really matter anyway? After all, when her holiday was over, they’d never see each other again. Wasn’t it better for both of them to keep things light? Superficial?

  He was still watching her. Waiting. She couldn’t read his expression and she really wished she could. Alex would have loved to know what he was thinking about this…whatever it was between them. If he was as intrigued, as filled with a heightened sense of anticipation as she was.

  “So?” he asked, a half smile curving his mouth as he waited for her decision.

  “First names only,” she said with an emphatic nod. “It’s more fun that way, don’t you agree?”

  “I think,” Garrett said as he stood up and held one hand out to her, “the fun hasn’t even started yet.”

  “Is that a promise?” she asked, slipping her hand into his and relishing the rush of heat and lust that immediately swamped her.

  “It is,” he said, “and I always keep my promises.”

  Garrett looked down at their joined hands then lifted his gaze to hers as the buzz between them sizzled and snapped like sparks lifting off a bonfire. “Fun. Coming right up.”

  They spent a couple of hours in Laguna, wandering down the sidewalks, drifting in and out of the eclectic mix of shops lining Pacific Coast Highway. There were art galleries, handmade ice cream parlors, jewelry stores and psychics. There were street performers, entertaining for the change dropped into open guitar cases and there were tree-shaded benches where elderly couples sat and watched the summer world roll by.

  Alex was amazing. She never got tired, never got bored and absolutely everything caught her attention. She talked to everyone, too. It was as if she was trying to suck up as much life as possible. And he knew why. Soon she’d be going back behind palace walls and the freedom she was feeling at the moment would disappear.

  Hard to blame her for wanting to escape. Who the hell didn’t occasionally think about simply dropping off the radar and getting lost for a while? He’d done it himself after—Garrett shut that thought down fast. He didn’t want to relive the past. Had no interest in wallowing in the pain and guilt that had ridden him so hard for so long. There was nothing to be gained by remembering. He’d learned his lesson, he assured himself, and that was why he was sticking to Alex like glue.

  It had nothing to do with how she looked in those mile-high heels. Or the brilliance of her smile or the damn sparkle in her eyes.

  He could tell himself whatever he wanted to, he thought, but even he didn’t believe the lies.

  “You’re frowning,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was pitifully grateful for the distraction.

  “What?”

  “Frowning,” she repeated. “You. Do I look that hideous?”

  He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the question, but dutifully looked at the drawing the caricature artist was doing of Alex. The guy had an easel set up under one of the trees along the highway and boxes of colored pastels sat at his elbow. Garrett watched him drawing and approved of the quick, sure strokes he made.

  Alex was coming alive on the page, her smi
le wider, her eyes bigger and brighter and her long blond hair swirling in an unseen wind.

  “So?” she asked.

  “It looks great,” he muttered, not really caring for how the artist had defined Alex’s breasts and provided ample cleavage in the drawing.

  “Thanks, man,” the guy said, layering in a deeper blue to Alex’s eyes. “I love faces. They fascinate me. Like you,” he said to Alex, “your face is familiar, somehow. Like I’ve seen you before. But with that accent no way you’re from around here.”

  Garrett’s gaze snapped to her in time to see her face pale a bit and her eyes take on a wary sheen.

  “I’m sure I’ve just got one of ‘those’ faces,” she said, trying to make light of the guy’s statement. “You know they say we all have a double out there, wandering the world.”

  “Yeah,” the artist murmured, not really listening. “But you’re different. You’re…”

  “You done?” Garrett asked abruptly.

  “Huh?” The guy glanced up at him and whatever he saw in Garrett’s eyes convinced him that he was indeed finished. “Sure. Let me just sign it.”

  A fast scrawl with a black chalk and he was tearing the page off the easel and handing it to Alex. She looked at it and grinned, obviously pleased with the results. In fact, she was so entranced by the drawing, she didn’t notice the artist’s eyes suddenly widen and his mouth drop open in shock.

  Apparently, Garrett thought grimly, he’d finally remembered where he had seen Alex before. Moving fast, Garrett caught the other man’s eye and gave him a warning glare that carried threats of retribution if he so much as said a single word.

  His meaning got across with no problem. The tall, thin man with the straggly beard closed his mouth, wiped one hand across the back of his neck and nodded in silent agreement.

  Garrett pulled out his wallet and handed over a wad of cash. Way more than the price of the drawing, this was also shut-the-hell-up-and-forget-you-ever-saw-her money. When the guy whistled low and long, Garrett knew the bribe was successful.

  “Thank you!” Alex said and finally looked at the artist. “It’s wonderful. I know just where I’ll hang it when I get home.”

  “Yeah?” The artist grinned, obviously loving the idea that one of his drawings would soon be hanging in a castle. “Well, cool. Glad you like it, Pr—” He stopped, shot a look at Garrett and finished up lamely, “Miss.”

  Alex missed the man’s slipup. She reached into her purse. “How much do I owe you?”

  “It’s taken care of,” Garrett said, stepping up beside her and dropping one arm around her shoulders. He shot another warning look at the artist. “Isn’t it?”

  “You bet,” the guy said, nodding so hard Garrett half expected the man’s head to fly off his neck. “All square. We’re good. Thanks again.”

  Garrett steered her away from the artist, and got her walking toward where he’d parked his car. Best to get out of here before the guy forgot just how threatening Garrett could be and started bragging about how he had drawn the portrait of a princess.

  “You didn’t have to buy this for me, Garrett,” she said, with a quick glance up at him. “I appreciate it, but it wasn’t necessary.”

  “I know that. I wanted to.”

  “Well, I love it.” She turned her head to study the portrait. “Whenever I look at it, I’ll think of today and what a lovely time I had. I’ll remember the ocean, the ice cream, the tide pools, the shops…”

  She came to a stop and the people on the sidewalk moved past them like water rushing around a rock in a fast moving stream. She looked at him, reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. He felt her touch all the way to his bones.

  Her blue eyes shone with the glitter of promises when she said, “And I’ll remember you most of all.”

  He knew with a soul-deep certainty that he’d never forget her, either.

  Five

  Decker King looked more like a beach bum than a successful businessman. And that was just how he liked it.

  Garrett only shook his head while Decker flirted like crazy with Alex. Decker wore board shorts, flip flops and a T-shirt that read, Do it With a King.

  And in smaller letters, King’s Kustom Krafts.

  The man might be annoying, but his company built the best luxury pleasure crafts in the world. His specialty was the classic, 1940s style wooden powerboats. Decker had customers all over the world sitting on waiting lists for one of his launches.

  “You sure you want Garrett to take you out?” Decker was saying, giving Alex a smile meant to seduce.

  “Yeah,” Garrett interrupted. “She’s sure.”

  Decker glanced at him and smirked. “Okay, then. My personal boat is moored at the dock out back.” He tossed the keys to Garrett. “Don’t scratch it.”

  “Thank you, Decker,” Alex said with a smile as Garrett grabbed her hand and headed for the dock.

  “My pleasure, Alex,” he called back as she was hustled away. “Anytime you get tired of my dull cousin, just call me!”

  “I don’t think you’re dull,” Alex said on a laugh, her hand tightening around his.

  “Decker thinks anyone with a regular job is dull. He’s talented but he’s also a flake.”

  “But he runs this business…”

  “Yeah, like I said, talented. He’s like a savant.”

  Alex laughed again as they stepped out into the sunlight, leaving the airy boat-building warehouse behind. “Oh, come on. He’s very sweet.”

  “All women like Decker.” Garrett looked down at her and smiled. “None of the cousins have figured out why, yet.”

  “None of you? How many cousins do you have?”

  “I can’t count that high,” he said with a half laugh. “We’re all over California. Like a biblical plague.”

  She laughed and Garrett let the sound ripple over him like sunlight on the water.

  “Must be nice, having that much family.”

  “It can be,” he admitted. “It can also be a pain in the ass from time to time.”

  They stopped at the end of the dock, and Garrett helped her into the sleek boat waiting for them. He untied the rope, tossed it aside then jumped in beside her. The wood planks of the hull gleamed a dark red-brown from layers of varnish and careful polishing. The red leather bench seats were soft and the engine, when Garrett fired it up, sounded like the purr of a mighty beast.

  Alex laughed in delight and Garrett couldn’t help grinning in response. In a few minutes, he was out of the harbor and headed for open water.

  “I love this boat,” she shouted over the engine noise. “It’s like the ones in that Indiana Jones movie!”

  “I love that you know that!” He grinned and gunned the engine harder, bringing the bow up to slap at the water as they careened across the surface.

  When they were far enough out that Garrett was convinced that Alex was perfectly safe, he eased back on the throttle. The roar of the engine became a vibrating purr as the sleek powerboat shifted from a wild run into a lazy prowl.

  Garrett slanted a look at her. “So, action movie fan are you?”

  “Oh, yes.” She turned her face up to the sun, closed her eyes and smiled. “It’s having three brothers, I think. They had no time for comedies or romance, so movie night at our house meant explosions and gunfire.”

  “Sounds like my house,” he said, remembering the many nights he and his brothers had spent reveling in movie violence. Garrett and Griffin especially had enjoyed the cops and robbers movies. The good guys tracking down the bad guys and saving the day in the end. Maybe that was why he and his twin had both ended up in the security business.

  “You have brothers?”

  “Four—one of them is my twin.”

  “A twin! I always thought it would be wonderful to be a twin. Was it?”

  “Wonderful?” He shook his head. “Never really thought about it, I guess. But yeah, I suppose so. Especially when we were kids. There was always someone there to listen. To play w
ith and, later, to raise hell with.”

  Being a twin was such a part of who and what he was that he’d never really considered what it must look like from the outside. Griffin and he had done so much together, always right there, covering each other’s backs that Garrett couldn’t imagine not being a twin.

  “Did you? Raise a lot of hell?”

  “Our share,” he mused, lost briefly in memories of parties, football games and women. “When we were kids, being identical was just fun. Swapping classes, tricking teachers. As we got older, the fun got a little more…creative.”