It wasn’t completely true, was it?
She was bothered.
It was that smile that was doing it. Other people smiled at her and it could make her feel good but there was something about Rafe’s smile that made her feel much better than good. It felt like her body was waking up after a long, long sleep and that every cell was tingling in the bright light of a brand new day. She was over-sensitive to the slightest touch, like the way his hand had barely brushed hers in taking that piece of pizza last night. Or the heat of his hand when she’d laid her fingers over the back of it to stop him unbalancing that pile of crockery.
The tingling bordered on being painful. And it was confusing. She didn’t want to feel this way but there it was. Like that horrible vertigo, it had just appeared from nowhere.
And, now that it was here, she didn’t really want it to go away, either. It was making her feel so...alive...
* * *
Forty euros.
Raoul stared at the notes in his hand. For more than ten hours of back-breakingly hard work, it was a pittance but, having had no more than enough for a bus fare in his pockets at the start of the day, it looked like a small fortune.
It was a clever ploy of Marco’s to give him cash at the end of his day’s trial as well as offering him as many shifts as he wanted to take in the café. If he hadn’t had actual money in his hand right now, it would be very tempting not to show up tomorrow.
Military training hadn’t set him up very well for this particular challenge. His hands felt waterlogged and swollen and he had tiny cuts from not handling the cutlery well enough that would probably sting later. His back ached from so many hours standing and, even though he’d wolfed down a meal when he’d finally been given a break, he was starving again already.
‘You did it.’ Mika was waiting for him outside the café and her expression made him think of a proud mother collecting her child from their first day at school. ‘Go you.’
Suddenly Raoul felt proud of himself, too. ‘It was a close call. When I forgot to warn Gianna that I was behind him and he dropped a whole pizza, I thought I was going to get fired on the spot.’
Mika shrugged. ‘Worse things happen. Pierre had a huge stack of dishes crash onto the floor and smash when he started.’
‘Did he have to pay for them?’
She shook her head. ‘If Marco had expected that, he would have lost his worker as well as the dishes. People working in hospo don’t usually have that kind of money and employers can’t afford to chase them.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s easy employment. Casual. If we get paid in cash, we don’t have to worry about paying tax, and employers can get away with paying less than minimum rates. It works for everyone.’
Raoul was frowning as he walked alongside Mika. Taxes were essential because they paid for things like hospitals and schools but he could understand why having part of an already low wage removed would add insult to injury. What was the minimum acceptable rate to pay people in his own country? And how much tax were they expected to pay?
He should know things like this.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing...why did you ask?’
‘You sighed. It sounded like you had the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.’
‘Oh...’ He’d have to be a bit careful what he thought about while he was with Mika. ‘I’m a bit tired, I guess. It’s been quite a long day.’
‘I know how to fix that.’
‘Oh?’ The sound was wary. Considering that Mika had been racing around working just as hard as he had been for the same length of time, she looked remarkably chirpy. Raoul hoped she wasn’t going to suggest an evening in a nightclub when he knew that all he would want to do later would be to sleep.
And he might need to find a place to sleep. Mika had only offered him a night on her couch.
‘Do your feet hurt? Is your back sore? Have you got a bit of a headache?’
‘Ah...yes, yes and yes.’
Raoul was beginning to wonder how long he might have the fortitude to keep it up, in fact. He’d never spent such a concentrated length of time doing such menial tasks. How horrified would his grandmother be if she knew? How astonished would his people be if they found out? In public opinion, it would be beneath his station in life—the work of servants.
But what made him so special, other than an accident of birth? Equality was a core value of the constitution of his land. Other people did this kind of work and some did it for their entire working lives. And Mika had worked just as hard today, hadn’t she?
She was nodding, as if agreeing with his unspoken thoughts. ‘Me too. And I know the cure.’
‘Wine?’ Raoul suggested hopefully. ‘Sleep?’
Mika laughed. ‘A swim. It’s what I usually do when I have time after work. I collect my bathing suit and jump on a bus to Praiano and go down to my favourite beach. Want to come with me?’
‘I don’t have a bathing suit.’
‘You could just wear your shorts. It would save washing them later.’ Mika’s head turned, scanning the tourist shops they were passing that were still open. ‘You should get another tee shirt, though. Let’s have a look.’
Raoul had to stop as well but he shook his head. ‘I can’t afford a tee shirt. It’s my turn to buy dinner tonight and...and I need to find somewhere to stay. I’ll need money for that, too.’
‘But you’ve got somewhere to stay.’ Mika seemed to have gone very still, her hand touching the rack of tee shirts on the footpath. ‘If you don’t mind the couch.’
Raoul blinked. ‘You want me to stay?’
‘I know it’s not ideal but it’s only for sleeping, and you’re only here for a few weeks. I’m either at work or out exploring for the rest of the time. I’m happy to share if you are.’
She was making it sound as if it was fine if he liked the idea but she wouldn’t be at all bothered if he decided otherwise. Her attention seemed to be on the shirts as she began to ruffle through them. Her tone and body language didn’t quite fit with the flash of something he’d seen in her eyes, though. It wasn’t any kind of come-on—she’d made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship—but there was something that made him think she would like him to agree to the plan a lot more than she was letting on.
Was Mika lonely...?
Part of him was more than a bit horrified by the idea of continuing to live in one room and share a bathroom with who knew how many other people, but was it because he was spoiled and soft or was it more to do with always having to be over-vigilant as to what others might think? When you lived in the public eye you had to behave perfectly at all times because you never knew if you were under observation by a journalist or the paparazzi. For as long as he could remember, he’d never been able to be impulsive and just do what he happened to feel like doing. Or even let how he was feeling show on his face sometimes.
But now he could. Nobody was watching. If his reluctance stemmed from the fact he was spoiled, it would do him good to toughen up. And if it was because of what others might think, well, there were no rules he had to follow other than his personal morality right now. What would happen if he really let his guard down?
‘Maybe one more night? We can talk about it again tomorrow. Right now, I love your idea of a swim.’
Mika nodded. ‘Stay here. Buy a tee shirt and maybe some shorts to swim in. Look, this might help...’ She put her hand in her pocket and when it came out she was holding a small handful of gold-rimmed silver coins. ‘I always put all my tips in the communal jar but...’ Her shrug made light of any residual guilt. ‘I thought we might have something to celebrate tonight.’
‘No way.’ Raoul put his hand over Mika’s to close her fingers firmly around the coins. Such a small hand. He liked the way his
could enclose it completely. ‘You earned that. You keep it.’ His voice was stern. ‘You’ve got to stop paying for things for me, okay? I’m beginning to feel like a gigolo.’
Mika was smiling as she pulled her hand free and put the coins back in her pocket, but she avoided meeting his gaze, and Raoul gave himself a mental shake. Gigolos were rewarded for services that he had no intention of offering, and that would be the last thing Mika wanted anyway.
‘I’ll be back in ten minutes.’ Mika was already walking away from him and it felt like a rebuke. Perhaps even a subtle reference to sex was dodgy territory that he needed to steer well clear of. ‘Happy shopping.’
* * *
A gigolo?
With those looks and that charm, there would probably be any number of rich older woman who would be happy to have Rafe at their beck and call. While Mika knew that the comment had been no more than a joke, it had sexual connotations that had put her well out of her comfort zone.
Had she turned into some kind of prude in the last few years?
Or was it because it was Rafe who had said it and that was tapping into feelings she wasn’t sure how to deal with yet?
And why had she been so quick to renew the offer of having him sleep on her couch? Did she want that painful prickle of awareness to get worse? Was she trying to test herself in some way?
Maybe she was but it wasn’t something she wanted to think about because, if she did, she’d find somewhere to hide. She could find the concierge of this boarding house, perhaps, and see if there was an empty room that Rafe could rent.
Tomorrow would be soon enough for that. Right now, she needed to hurry, to change out of her uniform and put her bikini on under her favourite shorts and singlet top. She swapped her soft, black tennis shoes for lightweight sandals and draped her towel over her arm. With her camera hanging from her shoulder, she was ready to go and find Rafe.
She’d made this trip for a swim after work many times already but how much better was it to have company?
Company that was now wearing a huge white tee shirt with I heart Positano emblazoned on the front. Rafe didn’t look the least bit embarrassed to be wearing it.
‘It was on the sale rack,’ he told her. ‘An absolute bargain.’
‘Mmm...’ Mika’s lips twitched. ‘Fair enough. I heart Positano, too. Oh...there’s our bus down the road. We’ll have to run.’
The bus was crowded and they had to stand but the journey was short enough for it not to matter. Mika led him down the cobbled alleyways in the heart of Praiano and many steps that led down to a beach that had no sand. There were rows of sun loungers to hire, like on every European beach, but they were on a huge, flagged terrace, and further back there were tables and chairs spilling out from a beachside café. Rock music was also spilling out and the place was crowded with young people.
Mika made a beeline for a couple of empty loungers and she put her camera on one and covered it with her towel. Then she kicked off her sandals and peeled her singlet top off. Taking her shorts off in front of Rafe gave her an odd feeling, as though something had thumped her painlessly in her belly. A sideways glance showed that he wasn’t taking any notice, however. He was too busy pulling off his new tee shirt. The sight of all that bare skin created ripples from the thumping sensation that felt like small electric shocks. It sent Mika swiftly to the edge of the terrace where she could dive straight into the deep, cool water.
The sea had always been her ultimate comfort zone. It was her place of choice to unwind and to think clearly, and it was definitely the best place to burn off angst of any kind, whether it was emotional, physical or—like now—possibly a combination of both.
She knew Rafe had dived in right behind her but Mika wasn’t here to float around or play, like most of the other young couples in the water. She set out for the pontoon that was moored a hundred metres or so offshore. And when she became aware that Rafe was keeping pace, she doubled her efforts. This was a race she knew she could win.
* * *
‘Where did you learn to swim like that?’
The words were hard to get out because Raoul was unexpectedly out-of-breath by the time he heaved himself up onto the pontoon. Mika was already sitting on the edge, her feet just touching the water.
‘My mother always said I had dolphin blood.’ Mika didn’t seem at all out of breath. ‘I grew up by the sea and apparently I could swim even before I could walk properly.’
Raoul smiled, liking that idea. Yes...there was something about Mika that reminded him of the creatures his homeland was named for. Confident and a little bit cheeky. Graceful... He’d seen Mika moving around the café today, twisting and turning her body to ease through small spaces or avoid obstacles. Friendly but still wild. Yes, you could touch them sometimes, but it was an honour to be allowed to do so.
They were both sitting on the edge of the pontoon, facing the shore, where they could see the crowd in the popular bar growing. They could still hear the music from here and it was a quieter number—a folk song that was wistful enough almost to create a sensation of yearning...
A need to feel less alone by connecting with another human being...
‘I don’t remember my mother very well,’ Raoul said quietly. ‘She died, along with my father, in a plane crash when I was only five.’
People were always shocked that he’d been orphaned so early but the glance Mika gave him had no pity in it.
‘I wish I’d never known mine very well,’ she said. ‘Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much when she abandoned me.’
Raoul was definitely shocked. ‘Abandoned you? How?’
‘She took me into the city for the day. Put me in the play area of a big department store and just never came back.’
‘How old were you?’
‘I was five, too. I’d just started school.’
Wow... To have lost a parent at such a vulnerable age was something that he’d never found he had in common with anyone. Ever. Even now, he could remember how lost he’d felt. How empty his world had suddenly become.
Had Mika had loving grandparents to fill such an appalling void? A small army of kind nannies, tutors and so many others, like cooks and gardeners, who would go out of their way every day to make a small, orphaned prince feel special?
‘What happened? Who looked after you?’
‘The police were called. I got put in the hands of the social welfare people and they found a foster home.’
‘Did the police find your mother?’
‘Oh...eventually. She turned up dead about ten years later. Drug overdose. Maybe she thought she was doing me a favour by shutting me out of her life.’
‘What about your father?’
‘Don’t have one. My mother never told me anything about him other than that he was Scottish. A backpacker she’d met in a bar somewhere. I have no way of tracing him. No idea of where I came from, really.’
‘I’m sorry...’
‘Don’t be. It has a good side. I’m as free as a bird. Or a dolphin, maybe. I can’t imagine living away from the sea. I had to do that in a couple of foster homes and I hated the cities.’
Raoul was silent for a long moment. He could trace his family back to the twelfth century when their islands had become a principality. He knew every drop of his bloodline and almost every square mile of the place that was where he came from and where he would always belong.
How lost would someone feel not to have that kind of foundation? Did he really envy the freedom she’d had in comparison to how precisely his own life was mapped out?
Was that what Mika was looking for—a place where she felt she belonged? A life that offered the safety of a real home? How much heartache had been covered by that casual reference to ‘a couple of foster homes’? How often had she been passed from home to home? Abandoned again and a
gain?
The sun was low now and Mika’s nut-brown skin seemed to have taken on a golden glow as Raoul’s silent questions led him to turn his head towards her. Her bikini was white—small scraps of fabric that left very little to the imagination.
It wasn’t his imagination that was his undoing, though.
Mika had her hands shading her eyes from the glare of the setting sun so she didn’t see him looking at her. She might be tiny, Raoul decided, but she was most definitely perfectly formed. And real... It would probably never occur to Mika to make her breasts larger or wear killer heels to make herself look taller and sexier. He couldn’t imagine her plastering her face with make-up, either. She didn’t need it, with those amazing eyes of hers.
She was...gorgeous.
He’d come to the conclusion that Mika was an extraordinary person within a short time of knowing her and learning about her rough start in life somehow didn’t surprise him.
What did surprise him—and not in a good way—was the strength of the attraction he was feeling towards her right now. Had either of them really been aware of how close to each other they were sitting? He would only have to relax his arm a little for their shoulders to touch. He could feel the warmth of her skin just thinking about it.
His hands tightened on the edge of the pontoon as he realised how much he wanted to touch Mika. He pressed his lips together to try and stifle the urge to kiss her.
Given the uncanny way they could communicate with no more than a glance, it was unfortunate that Mika chose that moment to lower her hands and turn her head.
For too long, she held his gaze. Too long, because Raoul knew that she was aware of him physically, too. That the attraction might well be mutual.
It couldn’t happen. Not when, in a matter of a few short weeks, he had to step back into his real life and prepare to marry the woman he’d been promised to for almost as long as he could remember. The engagement was about to become official, which had to put an end to any sexual adventures, and surely he’d had enough over the years, anyway?
He’d never known anybody like Mika, though, had he?
The Forbidden Prince Page 5
