Читать книгу Prince of Midtown / Marriage, Manhattan Style - Jennifer Lewis - Страница 13

White liveried servants brought Tessa and Sebastian a lunch of handmade delicacies on the private palace dock. Hidden from the world by carved stone walls, they sipped fresh lemonade with sprigs of fragrant mint while seawater lapped at the sun-bleached quay. Bright flowers bloomed in ornate urns, their leaves occasionally ruffled by the warm breeze.

Tessa wriggled, trying not to get too comfortable on the soft lounge chair. She wore the bikini. She could hardly refuse when he’d sunk so much money into it.

“I really should call the attendees for the meeting.”

“Not yet. You need heliotherapy.” Sebastian picked up the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in a quick motion.

She jerked her gaze away from the sight of his bronzed washboard abs.

“Helio-what?” She fixed her attention on a seagull, then quickly became dizzy as it turned in tight circles, scanning the water for its lunch.

Sebastian was stretching. She could tell without looking.

Her nerve endings could see him. All the tiny invisible blond hairs all over her. Her nipples must be looking, too, because they buzzed like pressed doorbells.

“Heliotherapy. Sunlight as a curative. Practiced in Caspia since the time of Hippocrates.”

She couldn’t manage to avert her eyes as he eased back into his chair, settling his broad shoulders into the soft fabric.

A narrow cyclone of black hair started between his well-developed pecs, twisted down the center of his rockhard stomach, then disappeared below the button of his black trunks.

“I thought…” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat. “I thought the sun gave you skin cancer.”

Sebastian snorted. “Caspians have the longest lifespan of any people on earth.” He lifted his arms behind his head, and his impressive biceps bulged.

Tessa blinked.

“Well, you have pretty dark skin.” All over. At least the parts she could see. She tried not to think about the others.

“So did you last summer. Have you been living under a rock this year?”

She couldn’t help laughing. “I have, lately. The rock of Caspia Designs and its gritty financials.”

Sebastian turned his head and assaulted her with one of his penetrating stares. “And that is exactly why I won’t have you scurrying off to bury yourself again.”

His eyes grazed her face, then wandered over her neck. “You need sun, good food, fresh air and laughter. Then you won’t want to run away to California in search of things that can be found right where you are now.”

He settled his head back with a smile of satisfaction and closed his eyes.

He’d noticed her tan last summer?

She’d managed a large group plot in a local community garden, which kept her outdoors digging, weeding and watering at least an hour a day.

She’d had a great time, too. Hadn’t spent one single evening sighing over her lack of husband prospects or her ticking biological clock.

This year she hadn’t the time or energy for the garden. So she’d also missed out on the companionship, sunshine, fresh air and fresh food that came along with the experience.

Instead she’d been telling herself things would get better once she left New York and started over.

Maybe Sebastian had a point.

A self-protective urge to argue with him tickled her vocal cords. But he looked so peaceful and contented lying there in the sun. She didn’t want to be snotty and point out that the older citizens of Caspia were pretty leathery looking.

Besides, she liked leather.

Still, sunblock would be a good idea. She fished the bottle from her bag and started to rub it on her exposed belly.

“Let me help.”

She glanced up to see Sebastian’s winning smile again. The one that made her so suspicious of his motives.

She fought the urge to laugh. “That’s okay, I’ve got it covered.”

“Not yet, you haven’t. I’ll do your back.” He took the bottle from her in a firm swipe. “Turn around.”

She turned, swinging her legs to the other side of the lounger. “Are you this commanding with people who aren’t your employees?”

“I prefer to think of myself as straightforward.”

His hands settled on her shoulders.

One way to be straightforward.

Breath rushed out of her lungs at the sensation of his broad fingertips, moist with lotion, rubbing her skin. He smoothed the sunblock over the nape of her neck, feathering it over her vertebrae with little thumb motions. She curled her toes, trying to fight the warm pool of arousal spreading in her abdomen.

His broad palms swirled lotion over her shoulder blades, kneading her muscle at the same time. It was hard to ignore the sensation of release spreading through her.

Then his fingers slid under the scanty string of her bikini. She gasped. For some reason the gesture seemed shockingly intimate.

“Hold still. I need more lotion.” His voice was unusually gruff. She felt quite naked as he pulled his hands from her body.

She heard him rubbing the sunblock between his hands to warm it, and her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch.

Ooh. Right there in the sensitive spots on either side of her waist. She tried not to wriggle. Or giggle.

His fingers slid around to rub it over her belly button. She should protest that she could do that herself, but she’d lost the power of speech.

Probably because in reaching forward to rub her front, Sebastian had moved so close that she could smell his stirring male scent.

“Relax,” he commanded. “Why are you tightening up?”

Um, because my boss is rubbing my bare flesh with his fingers?

She managed to clear her throat. “Guess I’m overworked. Must be my demanding boss.”

“I’ll have a word with him.”

She could hear the smile in his voice.

He pushed his fingers into the tight muscle on either side of her spine, causing her to arch her back and let go a tiny moan of pleasure.

“Ah, yes.”

“What?” she croaked.

“I can see the problem.”

“What problem?” Ohhhh. His thumbs settled into the dimples above her bikini bottom. That felt…wicked.

“You need to let go of all tension.”

“I think I’m pretty close.”

“No. Your muscles are still working to hold you upright.” His palms rubbed the sides of her waist. There wasn’t even a hint of lotion left on them. Ripples of sensation skittered over her.

“Let me guess, you want me to lie down.”

“No.”

He didn’t stop kneading the muscles behind her hips. She craned her neck around to read his expression.

His dark eyes flashed mischief. “I want you to float.”

Sebastian lifted her off her chair before she could draw breath to protest. He held her in his arms, and for a second she thought he was going to heave her right into the water lapping against the stone quay.

Instead he marched to the edge, and jumped.

She let out a piercing scream as they plummeted through the air for a split second before splashing into the water. Tessa managed to close her mouth before they plunged below the blue-green surface into the silent world below.

Eyes shut tight and Sebastian’s strong arms still tight around her, she surfaced, gasping for breath. “What the—”

“Now relax.”

“Relax? You’ve half drowned me!” She struggled, trying to get free of his arms.

She looked up at his face as he brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. His expression was serious, his touch deft and careful.

Then their eyes met and her stomach did a weird leaping thing.

Being held close against his warm, wet chest felt anything but safe.

He trod water, holding them both up. His powerful legs created a swell, while his embrace seemed effortless, and strangely soothing.

“Let your legs float. I won’t let go. I promise.”

His deep voice tickled her wet ear.

She fought the ripple of pleasure it summoned. “Why would I believe you after you already dunked me?”

“The Caspian royal family never breaks a promise. Our motto is Honor Omnia Vincit.”

“Honor conquers all, huh?”

“Engraved on my heart.”

He flexed a brawny bicep in her face. There, scrolled into the pattern winding over his arm, were the words he’d spoken.

She tried to brush off the sensations sneaking through her. “I’ve got news for you. Your heart isn’t really on your sleeve. It’s an expression.”

Sebastian’s mouth creased into a smile. “Maybe I should dunk you.” He dipped her a couple of inches.

Her stomach tightened, then softened when he brought her gently back to the surface. Water played over her stomach, echoing the ripple of arousal inside it. “It’s a beautiful tattoo. Does every man in the family get one?”

Sebastian glanced down at it. The pattern of stylized leaves traced the swell of his muscles to ring his upper arm just below the shoulder. “I’ve had it so long I forget it’s there. But no, it’s not traditional.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “My mom almost died when she saw it. I got it when I was sixteen after I went to an Eric Clapton concert in London with some friends.”

Tessa laughed. “That’s such a…regular guy thing to do.”

“Who says I’m not a regular guy, as well as a prince?” He raised a brow.

Somehow that stopped her in her tracks. Not that she was making any tracks, since Sebastian still held her fast in his arms and her feet bobbed near the surface of the water. Royal trappings aside, Sebastian was just a guy. With a mind and heart and feelings. Like everyone else.

Like her.

She ignored the funny sensation in her gut. “It’s lucky I was always strapped for cash as a teen or I might have the New York Knicks emblazoned on me somewhere. What made you decide to get the family motto?”

Sebastian looked at the scrolled words. “Caspia and its people are my team. I might have occasionally cheered for, say, Manchester United, but my heart is always in Caspia, and as you’ve observed, I wanted to wear it on my sleeve. Still do.”

His eyes shone with a mix of passion and humor that made her heart squeeze.

How had their relationship gone overnight from five years of formal and professional relations to half-naked conversations and underwater encounters?

In some ways it was her wildest fantasy come true. The man she’d admired and mooned over for so long was actually teasing and flirting with her. It was hard not to be flattered.

And excited.

Sebastian adjusted his grip, sliding his strong arms under her. “Let your head rest. Let go. The water will carry you.”

“I think you’re doing most of the work.”

“I wouldn’t call it work.” His deep voice had a playful tone.

But what was he playing at? They both knew this flirtation couldn’t go anywhere. Not anywhere sensible, at least.

She shot him a challenging glance. “Me, either. I have phone calls to make.”

“First you must heal and recover. Hydrotherapy has been recognized for thousands of years as a powerful curative.” He shifted one of the hands supporting her torso and splashed a few drops of water on her hot skin.

She swallowed hard, trying to crush the sensations swelling inside her. “You should open a spa. Ancient healing therapies seem to be a specialty of yours.”

“Excellent idea. Why didn’t I think of that? See how valuable you are to me?”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Stop what?” His expression was all innocence.

“Buttering me up so I’ll stay and work for you.”

Or do whatever else it is that you have in mind.

“Can you blame me?”

“Well, no. I am efficient and organized.” She raised a brow. “And I do my best to present a professional appearance. Though that seems to have fallen by the wayside today…” She glanced at her bare stomach. Drops of seawater sparkled on skin that had already started to tan. A result of Sebastian’s unthorough sunblock application.

What was he doing with his fingers? The pads of his fingertips played her waist like a piano, dancing over her until her insides hummed like vibrating strings.

Her nipples poked against the fabric of her scanty top. Heat and moisture gathered between her thighs, making her glad her bikini bottom was already damp.

Sebastian lowered his head so that his breath heated her ear. “As you point out, you are perfect. Which is exactly why you can’t leave. I won’t let you.”

She shivered, the force of his words sinking in.

I don’t want to leave.

She writhed slightly, trying to regain control of her body. The sensations swimming through her were startling and unfamiliar. Warm water swirled around her while the breeze tickled her bare skin above it. Sebastian’s powerful hands held her crushed against his muscled chest. His musky scent wound through the salty tang in the air, threatening to overwhelm her senses.

Suddenly she was panting, gasping for breath, struggling against the firm hold of Sebastian’s arms and the ache of her unwelcome arousal. “I have to stand!” She shoved against him with her elbow.

“It’s too deep.”

Flailing in the water, she started to panic. Frantic kicking had freed her from Sebastian, but now, head reeling and body throbbing, she couldn’t seem to remember how to swim.

“It’s okay, Tessa, I won’t let you sink.” Sebastian took her hand and tugged her gently to the stone dock. He didn’t try to grab or control her, just guided her through the water. She grabbed a metal ring and clung to it.

She blew out a sharp blast of air. “I’m sorry. I guess it was all too much. I’m not cut out to be relaxed. It freaks me out.”

Sebastian’s look of concern eased into a grin. “You’re a real New Yorker. You’d rather resist than relax.”

“I’m from Connecticut,” she protested.

“Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“See, you want to fight me already.”

“I do not!” She shifted her grip on the ring. How had this man managed to so thoroughly unhinge her?

“Oh, yeah?” He shoved his hand in the water and splashed her. Hard.

She splashed back and kicked with her feet, showering him completely with water until he ducked below the surface.

He rose up, laughing. “See what I mean?”

She shoved another wave of water at him. Damn. He was right. She felt better already.

She could even stare right at his handsome face with the water streaming over its hard lines and feel…almost normal.

“Do you surrender?” she challenged.

“Caspians never surrender.”

“Honor Omnia Vincit, and all that.” Her eyes wandered to the tattoo circling his thick bicep.

“Exactly. And since I am a man of honor, I’ll help you out of the water. I think we’ve both had enough hydrotherapy for one afternoon.” His black hair hung in his eyes, dripping with water.

He looked very unroyal.

And devastatingly handsome.

“It’s okay. I can swim. I grew up in a coastal town. In Connecticut.” She dodged his offered hand and darted around him, diving under and pulling hard for the stone steps twenty feet along the dock.

As she climbed out of the water she sensed his eyes on her. She adjusted her scanty bikini, not that it made much difference. His steady dark gaze threatened to evaporate the water right off her.

This was so wrong.

A strange noise pierced the air. It took her a full five seconds to realize it was her cell phone. She dived for it, dragging her sarong over her bare legs.

Patrick. His work number. He’d called three times this morning just to “see how she was.”

How could she talk to him now, while her inside pulsed with desire for another man?

Guilt speared through her as she pushed the button to send him straight to voice mail.

“Now can we see the files? I’m kind of a workaholic, so I get neurotic if I’m not allowed to work.”

“You are working. You are my assistant and you are assisting me in enjoying my day.” His arrogant expression dared her to argue.

She fought the urge to laugh. Obnoxious jerk!

And he was right, too, which made it worse.

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to compose herself. All she had to do was survive her two weeks’ notice without doing anything stupid, then she could get on with the rest of her life.

“Do you have jeans?” His question yanked her back to the present.

“Yes.”

“Great.”

He shrugged his white linen shirt back on, right over his wet skin. It clung to his ripped chest in a very disturbing way. She was still attempting to tear her gaze from the sight when he looked up. “What are you waiting for?”

“What am I supposed to be doing?”

“Getting your jeans.”

“Oh.”

Sebastian looked at her as if she’d lost a cog or two. He was right. Of course, it was all his fault.

“I’ll, uh, be right back.” She strode into the palace, hoping she could find her way to her room.

In the wide, colonnaded hallway she passed the queen, who was talking at top speed on a cell phone. Despite her damp and seminaked appearance, Tessa prepared her brightest smile. Her Royal Majesty glanced up but didn’t make any acknowledgment.

Ouch.

What did she expect? She was Sebastian’s assistant, not a visiting princess. Get over yourself already.