The Prince She Had to Marry

by Christine Rimmer

  He said, “Better get out of that life vest and the coveralls.” She took them off and then helped him squeeze the rest of the air from the raft. He rolled it up and hoisted it onto his shoulders. “Give them to me.” She handed them over and stood watching, shielding her eyes from the growing brightness of the sun as he marched up the beach and into the trees.

  Her stomach growled. She got one of the energy bars and broke it in two. When Alex returned, she handed him half. He dropped down onto the pebbles beside her. They stared out to sea as they munched their makeshift breakfast.

  Where were they? Beyond the shelter of the cove, the sea gleamed, endless.

  “Tell me we’re going to be fine,” she said softly, still staring out over the limitless expanse of shifting blue.

  “We’re going to be fine,” he replied.

  She turned and found him looking at her. His eyes, so often dark and flat, were brown in the morning light, brown rayed with amber. She thought of Afghanistan then. Of the years he had spent there, of how little hope he must have had after a while, of all the painful, scary things that must have happened to him there, the things he never mentioned, refused to talk about.

  Four years of his life and he never spoke of it. Surely he had thought he would die there. She wanted to ask him about that awful time. But she was too afraid of losing the new closeness she had with him, the feeling of working together, the sense of companionship.

  And he was already breaking the hold of her gaze, grabbing the survival kit he’d taken from the raft. “Let’s see what we have in here.” He undid the zip that ran around the side of it, the same as on a suitcase, and folded the top back. “Not bad...” There was everything they could hope for—and more. “Two knives.” He held them both up for her to admire. “Raft knife and utility knife.” The raft knife had a curved blade with a rounded, unsharpened tip. But the utility knife possessed both an edge and a point on the end of the blade. The sun caught the sharp tip, flashing. “This could come in handy,” he said.

  She found a brush in her pack and set to work straightening up the tangled mess that was her hair. Once or twice she brushed the bump behind her ear. It hurt a little, but it wasn’t too bad. She reminded herself to be grateful that she had neither drowned nor suffered any real damage in the storm or its aftermath. As she wove a quick braid down her back and secured it with a damp elastic band she found in her pack, he produced more marvels from the survival kit.

  “Water rations, food bars, first-aid kit, fishing kit—the fishing should be really good here.”

  “You think we’ll be here long enough to fish?”

  “It’s just good to have the option if we need it.” He went on with his inventory. “Magnifier, water storage bag, smoke signal, meteor flares and handheld flares.”

  “Cell phone?” she asked hopefully. “Or possibly a radio?”

  He sent her a wry glance. “Can’t have everything.” The utility knife had a sheath, which he attached to his pants. He stuck the compass in his pocket and handed her the water rations and food bars. “Put these in your pack with the rest of your things.” He squeezed sunscreen on his hand and passed it to her. “Put on some sunscreen. We’ll set up a signal and then get on the move.”

  “Shouldn’t we stay close to the beach in case someone comes to rescue us?”

  “We have no idea where we are, or how long it’s going to take them to find us. Just sitting here waiting seems...unproductive.”

  She had to agree with him there. They might as well find out if there were people nearby who could help them. She did as he told her, slathering on sunscreen.

  For the signal, he sent her to collect large rocks and bits of driftwood, which he used to write the giant words LILI & ALEX on the beach, above the tide line in letters large enough to be seen from the air. After their names, he fashioned an arrow that pointed toward the road she’d seen from the raft, in the direction they intended to take.

  It was thirsty work. When they were done, they shared another energy bar and drank the rest of the first bottle of water. After that, there were three bottles left. He stuck one in the holder on the outside of her pack.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  She shouldered her pack and he took the survival kit on his back.

  They went along the beach until they came to where the dirt road began. It wound into the trees, which were mostly scrubby-looking olive trees. She also spotted a few oaks and more than one cypress. And the occasional carob tree. Carob pods straight off the tree were delicious. Too bad they wouldn’t be ripe until September or October. Overhead, seagulls sailed on the wind currents and the day had already grown warm. Her clammy clothing was quickly drying. She thought somewhat longingly of a bath. It would be lovely, to wash away the crusty, salty feeling, to be truly clean again.

  And a real breakfast, with eggs and savory sausages and a tall glass of juice. Her mouth watered. Strange how precious the simple, taken-for-granted things like baths and breakfast became when they weren’t available.

  Then again, if she simply concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, if she didn’t let herself wonder where they were and when she would get a bath and a real meal, if she didn’t allow her mind to wander to the big question of whether they would ever get home again, well, it wasn’t bad at all.

  And seriously, the islands off Croatia were a boat owner’s paradise. Even if this particular island turned out to be deserted, some pleasure craft or fishing boat would show up eventually and they would be rescued.

  The road climbed the hillside, not sharply, but in a gentle ascent. Once, a lizard scurried across their path. And a few minutes after that several small, wrenlike birds burst from the underbrush and took flight. About a half an hour after they left the beach, the road led them between two craggy limestone cliffs. On the other side, the road climbed sharply for about fifty meters and they found themselves on perhaps the highest point of the island. Ahead, the road proceeded downward into forest again. From where they stood, though, they could see all around them, to the blue sea on all sides. There were no boats in sight. And the sky above was a pale, cloudless bowl of blue. Not a sign or any sound of a helicopter or a plane.

  Alex turned to her. “I would estimate that the whole island is no more than five or six square kilometers. We could walk the perimeter in under four hours.”

  The wind was blowing, smelling of lavender and rosemary and the sea. The small forest of olive and cypress and carob trees ahead seemed to beckon them onward. She held out her arms and tipped her face to the endless sky. “It’s so beautiful....”

  “Always looking on the bright side.” He said it with what could only be called fondness. And then it got better because he moved closer. Just like that, so easily, so casually, he lifted a hand and guided a few stray strands of hair away from her mouth. His eyes were amber again. Full of golden light. He smelled of the sea and of his own clean sweat. An earthy scent. It drew her.

  All those years she had thought that she hated him. But now she understood that what she had called hatred was really a form of self-protection. It had always been dangerous for her to be vulnerable to him. He hadn’t been kind to her. Inevitably, he would lash out, say something cruel and hurtful, each and every time she made the mistake of letting down her guard with him.

  She said, “Too bad there’s no sign of human habitation....”

  “You never know.” He moved even closer. Her breath snagged in her throat. And then his lips brushed hers quickly. Possessively. Heat and happiness sang through her veins as he reached behind her and took the full water bottle from its holder on the side of her pack. He unscrewed the cap. “Drink.”

  She didn’t have to be told twice. She took it, indulged in a nice, big sip. It was lukewarm but that didn’t matter. To her it was delicious. So...wet. She longed to tip the bottle up all the way and drain every drop. But he needed water, too. She gave it back to him.

  He drank, screwed the lid on and sli
d it back into the holder on her pack. Then he stepped up and turned, so he stood beside her on the road. He stared off into the distance ahead. “Look closer.”

  “At what?”

  He pointed. “See, down there where the trees thin out?”

  “I do. So...?”

  “There’s a stretch of brush and then another small group of trees and half-hidden in among those trees, I make out a few patches of red.”

  She squinted against the brightness of the sun. And she saw what he was pointing at. Her heart rate accelerated. “Roofs. Red clay roofs... Oh, Alex. There are people here after all!”

  “I don’t see any movement down there.”

  “Well, how could you? It’s too far away and under cover of the trees—and come on. What are we waiting for?” She gave him a playful push down the road.

  Moments later, they were surrounded by the trees again. The shade was spotty, but nonetheless welcome, and the road clear. Her heart sang with gladness. Rescue. A bath. A nice, big breakfast. As much water as she cared to drink....

  She could not wait.

  They walked at a fast clip through the grove of trees, easily scaling the gentle slopes of hills and then quickly descending only to rise again. Alex kept up a brisk pace and she traipsed after him eagerly until the forest thinned around them and they neared open, brush-covered land again.

  Then he slowed and turned to her. “We should approach the buildings with caution, I think.”

  She wanted to argue that he was being silly and negative and everything would be fine. But then, she’d been so certain that nothing could go wrong with their midnight adventure on the Lady Jane, and look how well that had turned out. She gritted her teeth and went along. “All right. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  He frowned. She knew he couldn’t believe she was being so agreeable. But he didn’t remark on it, only said, “I know you’re going to hate this, but I want you to stay here. Let me check things out and then come back for you.”

  She couldn’t quite stifle a groan of protest. “Oh, Alex. No. Please.”

  “It won’t be for long. I promise.”

  “Alex, listen to me. I don’t mean to be critical....”

  “Then don’t,” he suggested hopefully.

  She tried to keep her mouth shut, but it opened anyway. “It’s only, well, I think it’s a bad idea to separate. I think we need to stay together.”

  He took her by the shoulders and captured her reluctant gaze. “I honestly don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

  “Wonderful.” She beamed him a thousand-watt smile. “We can stay together.”

  He clasped her shoulders more firmly. “You’re not listening.”

  “I am. I did. And you just said there was nothing to worry about.”

  “I also said I thought we should be careful.”

  “But—”

  “Shh. Listen.” He put a finger to her lips. And then he actually smiled—or tried to. He made the corners of his mouth twitch upward in what she knew was an effort to reassure her. It came out more as a grimace than a grin, but she did appreciate that he made the effort. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  She cast wildly about for any excuse to make him stay. “I...don’t have a watch.”

  He took off his waterproof watch. “Here. It’s going to be fine. Twenty minutes, and I’ll be back.”

  Her throat felt tight and her eyes burned with tears she was not going to let him see. “I really, sincerely do not think we should let ourselves get separated.”

  “We’re not letting ourselves. It’s a choice we’re making. The best choice, given the situation we’re in.”

  “Who, exactly, is this ‘we’ that you keep talking about?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Couldn’t we just go together but cautiously? I mean, what good is it going to do for me to come after you if something terrible has happened to you? If you can’t handle whatever’s down there, what am I going to do about it?”

  “I have no doubt you will figure out something.”

  She put on a smile. “Alex, you have faith in me.”

  “Oh, yes, I do,” he said grimly.

  “Then I should go with you.”

  All the warm amber was gone from his eyes. They were so dark. And utterly determined. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

  “You keep saying that—right after you say how you need to go down there alone in case something bad happens.”

  He took the utility knife, sheath and all, from the waistband of his cargoes. “Here.”

  She glared at it. “Forget it. If you’re going down there alone, you’re at least taking that knife.”

  “Take it.” He grabbed her hand, set the handle end of the sheath gently on her palm and closed her fingers over it. “I’m not going to get myself into a situation where I need it, believe me.”

  “So there is no reason that I shouldn’t go with you.”

  “Lili.” He said her name so...passionately. Then he drew her close and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He kissed her hair.

  It felt so good. Why couldn’t he have held her like this in their cabin back on the Princess? If he’d been holding her like this in private on the Princess, she never would have needed to get away. She gulped back her tears and clung to him and thought how she would never ever forgive him if anything happened to him. “I will kill you if you get yourself hurt,” she muttered.

  He tipped up her chin. “Lili...”

  “No, I mean it. I am so serious. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about down there. And that means there is no reason for me to stay here when we should both—”

  And then it happened. At long last. Damn him.

  He kissed her—all right, yes. He was doing it only to silence her objections to his totally bad idea of a plan. And yet, well...

  Oh, what a kiss it was.

  A beautiful, deep kiss. A real kiss, a full-on, full-out kiss.

  The kind of kiss she hadn’t had from him since that morning in April, the morning that changed everything. The kind of kiss that hollowed her out and filled her heart, both at the same time. The kind of kiss that reached down inside her and found places she hadn’t even known were there. Loving places.

  Tender, giving places.

  The best places. The ones she’d lived her whole life hoping and praying that someday, somehow the right man would find.

  It wasn’t supposed to be him. Oh, no. Never. Not cold, distant, judgmental Alexander. Not Alex who looked down on her. Not Alex whom she despised. It was supposed to be Rule.

  Or so she had always been so sure.

  Until Alex kissed her—really kissed her—that morning in April.

  Somehow, when Alex kissed her, everything changed.

  He held her so close and tight. His body was so big and strong and warm all around her. His tongue was in her mouth and his hard chest crushed her breasts in the most delicious way. She surged up against him, eager and hungry, and she kissed him right back with wild abandon. She wished she could go on like this forever, held tight in Alex’s arms, lost in his kiss.

  But of course, just when she’d succeeded in forgetting everything but the hot press of his mouth on hers, he took her by the shoulders again and set her gently away from him.

  “Twenty minutes,” he said gruffly.

  She blinked up at him, slightly stunned for a moment. And then she shook herself and looked down at the knife in her right hand, at the watch in her left. “If you don’t have a watch, how will you know when your time’s up?”

  “I’ll know.”

  She tried not to roll her eyes. “But what do I do if you’re not back here in twenty minutes?”

  “Wait ten more.”

  “Oh, I knew you were going to say that.”

  He captured her chin again, kissed her once more, hard and quick. “Please don’t worry.”

  “Hah!”

  He took the watch from her and slid it onto her wrist. The b
and was much too big for her. If she put her hand to her side, it would drop right off. “Here.” He pressed a whistle from the survival kit into her now-empty palm. “If something goes wrong for you—which it won’t—use this and I’ll come running.”

  “Lovely,” she said, meaning it was anything but.

  “Stay right here. I will be back.”

  * * *

  Seventeen minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Lili sat on a limestone boulder next to the road where Alex had left her and wondered why it always turned out that when you were waiting for time to pass, it inevitably crawled by at the speed of a dying snail inching uphill. She was ridiculously worried and very nervous and she wished that Alex would come back quickly so that she could strangle him. There was absolutely no reason that he needed to put her through this aggravation when they could have just gone on down to the buildings together.

  She was so aggravated and upset by then that she didn’t hear the rustling in the trees until the creature that was making the sound was almost upon her. Glancing up, she saw a flash of movement back in the trees on the other side of the road.

  Her heart kicked into overdrive—and she promptly dropped the whistle. She bent, fast, and retrieved it, shoving the dusty end into her mouth, but holding off on blowing to get a better look at what she might be dealing with.

  More rustling of branches.

  Lili clutched the whistle between her teeth. She was going to let go with one long, ear-piercing blast if she had to.

  The knife was still in her hand. Her fingers shaking only a little, she drew it from its sheath. And then she stood to face whatever was coming at her from the shadowed trees across the road.

  Chapter Eight

  “Maaa, maaa, maaa.” The small white goat stepped daintily out into the open.

  Lili almost burst out laughing. But she remembered at the last possible second that if she somehow happened to blow the whistle when she laughed, she’d probably scare the adorable creature away.

  “Maaa, maaa, maaa...” The goat ambled toward her.

  She sheathed the knife and stuck the whistle in her pocket. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest one?” She held out her hand.