Читать книгу The Wedding Party Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Aimee Carson - Страница 70
ОглавлениеALYSE WOKE TO the warm spill of sunshine and the gentle swooshing of the waves just metres from their bed. She turned to see Leo still asleep next to her, one hand flung over his head, the dark glint of morning stubble visible on his jaw. His lashes, surprisingly long, feathered his cheeks and those all-too-kissable lips were slightly parted. He looked gentler, somehow, in sleep. Softer, almost vulnerable, and so different from the cold, hard man he seemed when he was awake.
She let her gaze move lower and took in his bare chest, the rise and fall of it with each steady breath. Lower still, to the sheet rucked about his waist, his legs tangled beneath it.
Her mouth dried and for a few more seconds she tortured herself by drinking in the male perfection of his body without him knowing. Her gaze was lingering, longing, and completely unrestrained. How would it feel to touch that chest, to slide her hand from shoulder to hip and feel the hot satin of his skin under her seeking fingers?
Desire spiralled dizzily inside her. Never mind wanting to be friends; she just wanted him. For a brief moment she toyed with the idea of touching him. Kissing him awake. But she knew she wasn’t bold enough, was too afraid of his surprise or even rejection.
Yet when would they consummate this marriage? When would friendship and desire meld, if ever?
And dared she still hope for more?
Silently she slid from the bed and reached for the robe that matched her nightgown, yet another ridiculous, silky confection. With one last look at Leo, who still seemed deeply asleep, she slipped out of the hut.
The day was already warm although Alyse suspected it wasn’t much past dawn, the sun having only just risen over the horizon, its golden light pooling on the placid surface of the sea.
She sat on the beach, tucking her robe around her, and sifted the sun-warmed sand through her fingers as last night’s conversation swirled through her mind: Leo’s confession that he hadn’t had any friends, his grudging acceptance that they might be friends—of a sort—and his flat and absolute statement that he would never love her.
Could she really be surprised by that bleak statement? It was no more than what she’d suspected, feared, and had tried to convince herself to believe over the years. And yet...she had believed in the miracle. The possibility of a miracle. She’d lied to Leo last night about that, just as she’d lied to herself over the last six years. She’d clung, stubbornly and stupidly, to the hope that he would learn to love her. That things would somehow miraculously change.
And she still clung to it now. Alyse’s mouth twisted in a grim smile as she acknowledged the truth. Despite everything Leo had said, she still hoped he might come to love her in time, that physical attraction and possible friendship might deepen into the kind of love he didn’t even believe in.
The smarter thing to do would be to let go of that hope, let it trickle away like water in sand, and get on with what was possible. Alyse knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She’d keep hoping, keep believing, because thin vapour that it was, hope was all that sustained her.
And why shouldn’t Leo love her? Why shouldn’t it be possible, eventually, ultimately?
I’m not going to love you. I don’t love anyone and I never have. The memory of his words made her both wince and wonder. Why didn’t he love anyone, not even his parents or his sister? Anyone who believes in love is deluded. And what had made him lock up his heart so coldly and tightly that he refused even to believe love could exist, never mind flourish?
Could she—did she dare—be the one to try and unlock it?
‘Good morning.’
Alyse turned to see Leo standing on the beach just a little bit away from her. He still wore only his pyjama bottoms and he looked glorious. She hoped her recent thoughts weren’t visible on her face, her contrary hope reflected in her eyes.
‘Good morning.’
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Not particularly.’
He smiled then, a proper grin that set her heart racing. Did he know how attractive he was, how a single smile made her heart turn somersaults and then soar straight up into the sky?
‘Me neither.’ Leo came to sit beside her, stretching his legs out alongside hers. ‘I’m not used to conversations like last night’s.’
‘I gathered that.’
‘It was rather obvious, wasn’t it?’
His wry smile tugged at her heart. ‘Considering revealing anything of a personal nature seems to be akin to pulling teeth for you, I’d say yes.’
He chuckled softly and shook his head. ‘Well. I tried.’
‘That’s all I’m asking for.’
He turned to her then, his gaze dark and searching, his smile gone. ‘Is it?’
She fell silent under that searching and seemingly knowing gaze, for of course it wasn’t—and it seemed he knew that, or at least suspected. Did he guess that she was in love with him? The possibility made both humiliation and hope rush through her.
She wanted him to know her feelings, wanted to stop pretending, and yet...the thought of his contempt and horror made everything inside her shrivel. She couldn’t risk revealing so much. Not yet, and maybe not ever.
‘So, snorkelling,’ he said, and she nodded.
‘Sounds fun.’
‘Why don’t we get dressed and go for breakfast, and then we can sort it out after?’
‘All right.’
With a brisk nod Leo rose from the sand, brushing off his pyjamas, and headed back to the hut. Alyse watched him go, half-amazed that she was finally, actually going to spend an entire day in Leo’s company... And still, as always, hopeful for what this day might bring.
* * *
This friendship business, Leo decided, was simple. At least so far. All he had to do was spend a little time with Alyse, do things with her. That suited him; he preferred having a plan, preferred action to talking. As long as they kept it to leisure activities, preferably ones that kept them from conversing, he’d be fine. Everything would be fine. The thought brought him a rush of much-needed relief.
Twenty minutes later they were both dressed and heading over to the main resort for breakfast. Alyse wore a pair of body-hugging canvas shorts that made Leo even more aware of her long, slim legs and the curve of her bottom. The tee-shirt she wore, in a pale petal-pink, seemed tight to Leo. Not obscenely so, but he kept finding his gaze being drawn to the high, firm breasts he’d seen on such provocative display in those frothy nightgowns she wore. Her hair was loose and fell down her back in shining, dark waves and her eyes sparkled silver as she fell into step beside him.
He’d always thought her pretty enough but now, seeing her looking natural rather than coiffed, styled and professionally made up, he realised she was actually quite beautiful.
And he wanted her very badly.
There was no reason, he thought, why they couldn’t be friends by day and lovers by night. Really, it was the perfect solution.
As long as Alyse didn’t confuse the two. As long as she didn’t start wanting more.
He’d just have to make sure she didn’t.
The restaurant, of course, was empty except for half a dozen staff who scurried to attention as soon as Leo and Alyse entered the pavilion that was shaded from the sun and open to the sea.
They sat at a table in the corner and soon had a pot of coffee and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice in front of them.
‘I’m starving,’ Alyse confessed. She glanced at the buffet that was spread out along one side of the pavilion. ‘I think there’s plenty of food.’
Leo followed her gaze, taking in the platters of pastries and bowls of fresh fruit, the personal chef on hand to make omelettes to order and the several silver tureens of bacon, sausage and eggs. ‘So it seems.’
‘It’s a bit of a waste, though, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘When we’re the only ones staying here.’
‘I’m sure the staff will eat it. The resort is meant to be eco-friendly.’
‘That’s good to know.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘Are you very concerned about such things?’
He shrugged. ‘I certainly intend to bring my country into the twenty-first century, in environmental matters as well as in others.’
He saw the curiosity flare in her eyes. ‘Others? What kinds of things?’
He shrugged again, discomfited now. He wasn’t used to talking about himself. He wasn’t used to anyone asking. ‘Technologically, Maldinia is about twenty years behind the rest of Europe. I’ve been drafting a proposal for broadband to be accessible to most areas.’
‘Is it not now?’
‘Really just in Averne and the outlying towns and tourist resorts. Admittedly, most of Maldinia is agricultural, and their methods are about a hundred years out of date, never mind twenty.’
She smiled, her eyes lightening with humour. ‘But that must be good for the tourist revenue—very quaint, those farmers in traditional dress herding their sheep along with their wooden crooks.’
He acknowledged the point with a wry nod. ‘They do look rather nice on a postcard. But those farmers should be able to check the weather—or the latest football scores—on the Internet when they get back home, don’t you think?’
She laughed, the sound silvery and crystal-clear. It was a sound, Leo realised with a jolt, that he liked to hear, and he hadn’t heard it very much over the last six years. ‘Absolutely. Internet access is practically an inalienable right these days.’
‘Inalienable,’ he agreed solemnly, and they smiled at each other, the moment spinning out first in simple enjoyment and then in something Leo didn’t quite recognise. Something that didn’t just skim the surface of his feelings but dove deeper, surprising and almost hurting him with its strange poignancy.
Alyse looked away first. ‘I didn’t realise you were already involved in governing your country.’
Leo’s mouth tightened, the moment evaporating like so much morning mist, gone with the first glare of light. Good. It was better that way. ‘A bit,’ he answered, his tone instinctively repressive.
He wasn’t involved, not as much as he wanted to be. He’d been trying to prove to his father for fifteen years that he was capable of being king. That he deserved responsibility and respect. King Alessandro might not be interested in government policy—he was too absorbed in his own selfish pleasures for that—but he didn’t want his son cramping his style or seizing his power.
He’d never wanted him to be king at all, and even after a decade and a half as heir Leo never forgot he was second choice. Second best.
Alyse stirred her coffee, her gaze thoughtful. ‘There’s so much I don’t know about you,’ she said, and the ensuing, expectant pause made Leo tense. Spending time together was one thing. You couldn’t talk while you were snorkelling. But getting to know each other...having Alyse ask him questions...having to answer them... That was an entirely different prospect.
‘Don’t look so horrified,’ she continued dryly. ‘I’m not about to ask you for your deepest, darkest secrets.’
‘I don’t have any secrets. Not too many, anyway.’ He tried to speak lightly, but he felt unsettled, uneasy, because for a few moments he’d enjoyed their conversation—the light banter, as well as, God help him, the deeper discussion—and that horrified him more than anything Alyse could ask.
Well, almost.
‘So no embarrassing moments?’ she quipped, a smile on the lips Leo kept realising were incredibly lush and kissable. He remembered how they had tasted. How she’d tasted. Honey-sweet with a tang of salt from the sea. Amazing. ‘No secret fears?’
He forced his gaze away from her mouth, up towards her eyes that sparkled with humour. How had he never noticed how silver her eyes were? They weren’t grey at all. They were warm and soft, glinting with golden lights, like a moonlit, starry sky...
Good Lord. He was thinking like some sort of besotted fool. Eyes couldn’t be soft, and he wasn’t about to compare them to the night sky.
What was happening to him?
‘Secret fears?’ he repeated, forcing his attention back to the conversation. ‘No, I don’t have any of those.’ None he was willing to share, anyway, and he wouldn’t exactly call them fears. More like...concerns.
‘Oh come on, Leo. There must be something.’
‘Why don’t you tell me something about you?’ he suggested. ‘Most embarrassing moment or secret fear or...I don’t know...funny dream.’
Her mouth curved wider and she leaned forward. ‘Here’s something you don’t know.’
‘Very well.’ There had to be a thousand things he didn’t know about her, but he felt a sudden, sharp curiosity to hear this one and he leaned forward too.
‘That kiss? The photo that started it all?’
‘Yes.’
‘I only clasped your cheek because I was wearing high heels for the first time and I was about to lose my balance.’
Leo stared at her for a moment, nonplussed, almost disbelieving, and then he burst into laughter. She grinned back and then she started laughing too, and from the corner of his eye he could see several members of the restaurant staff beaming in approval.
This would make a good photo.
The thought was enough to sober him up completely. ‘And to think,’ he said just a little too flatly, ‘if you’d been wearing flats we might not even be married.’
‘No,’ Alyse agreed, all traces of laughter gone from her face. ‘We might not be.’ They stared at each other for a moment, and this time Leo felt a certain bleakness in their shared look. Their engagement—their whole lives, entwined as they were—had hinged on something so trivial. So ridiculous.
Why did the thought—which wouldn’t have bothered him a bit before; hell, he’d have appreciated the irony—make him feel almost sad now? Sad not just for himself but for Alyse, for the way her eyes shuttered and her mouth twisted, and the warmth and ease they’d been sharing seemed to disappear completely.
He needed to put a stop to this somehow. He needed to stop wondering, stop feeling so damn much. The trouble was, he didn’t know how to stop it. And, worse, part of him didn’t even want to.
Alyse knew she shouldn’t be hurt by Leo’s observation. It was no more than the truth, the truth she’d known all along. Yet the reminder stung, when for the first time they’d actually seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.
Not wanting Leo to see how absurdly hurt she felt, she rose from the table and headed for the buffet, filling her plate up with a variety of tempting items. Leo followed, and by the time they were both back at the table her composure was firmly restored.
‘So,’ she said, spearing a piece of papaya, ‘your turn. Secret fear, embarrassing moment, funny dream. Take your pick.’
‘I don’t have any of those,’ Leo answered. She watched him neatly break a croissant in two and rolled her eyes.
‘Come on, Leo. You’re not a robot. You’re a man with feelings and thoughts, hopes and fears. You’re human. Aren’t you? Or am I going to roll over in bed one night and see a little key in the back of your neck, like that Dr Who episode with the creepy dolls?’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘Creepy dolls?’
‘Haven’t you ever watched that television programme?’
‘I don’t watch television.’
She let out a laugh. ‘You really are a robot.’
‘Ah, you’ve discovered my one deep secret. And here I thought I hid it so well.’
She laughed again, and his answering smile made everything in her lighten and lift. They’d never, ever joked around before. Teased each other. Enjoyed each other. It was as heady as a drug, his smile, his light tone. She craved more, and she knew just how dangerous and foolhardy that was.
Leo had made it abundantly clear last night. As long as it’s enough for you.
Already she knew it wasn’t.
‘All right, then,’ she said, taking a pastry from her plate. ‘No secret fears, funny dreams, or embarrassing moments. How about hobbies, then?’
‘Hobbies?’ he repeated in something so close to incredulity that Alyse nearly laughed.
‘Yes, you have heard of them? Pleasant pastimes such as reading, gardening, stamp-collecting?’ He simply stared and she supplied helpfully, ‘Tennis? Golf? Pottery?’
‘Pottery? I thought macramé was bad enough.’
‘You must do something to unwind.’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Do I seem unwound to you?’
‘Now that you mention it...maybe I should suggest something? Watercolours, perhaps?’
His lips twitched and he shook his head. ‘I play chess.’
‘Chess?’ She smiled, felt the sweet thrill of a small victory. ‘I should have been able to guess that.’
‘Oh? How so?’
‘Chess is a game requiring patience and precision. You have both in spades.’
‘I’m not sure that was a compliment,’ he answered. ‘But I’ll take it as one.’
‘Are you very good?’
‘Passable.’
Which probably meant he was amazing. She could picture him in front of a chessboard, his long, tapered fingers caressing the smooth ivory shape of the queen... A shaft of desire blazed through her. She really needed to get a grip if she was fantasising about chess. Well, really, about Leo.
‘Do you play?’ he asked.
‘I’m passable, but probably not as passable as you.’
‘I didn’t know there were degrees of passable.’
‘There is when I feel your “passable” is a gross understatement.’
‘We’ll have to have a match.’
‘You’ll trounce me, I’m sure.’ Yet the thought of playing chess—really, of doing anything with him—made her spirits lift. See? she wanted to say. We are friends. This is working.
But she still wanted more.
‘So.’ Leo pushed his plate away and nodded to hers. ‘Are you finished? I’ll just speak to the staff about arranging the snorkelling.’
Alyse watched him stride away as she sipped the last of her coffee. Despite her fledgling hope, she still wished that they were a normal couple. That this was a normal honeymoon. That Leo was striding away with a spring in his step instead of a man resigned to a lifetime of duty. That they’d spent last night wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in mutual pleasure, instead of lying next to each other as rigid as two cadavers in a mortuary.
She could go on and on, Alyse knew, pointlessly wishing things had been different before, were different now. She forced herself to stop. This was what she had to deal with, to accept and make work. And this morning had been a beginning, a hopeful one. She needed to focus on that and let it be enough, for now at least. Maybe for ever.
Half an hour later they’d changed into swimsuits underneath tee-shirts and shorts and Leo was leading the way along the beach to where a gorgeous catamaran was pulled up on the sand.
Alyse came to a stop in front of the boat. ‘Are we going in that?’
‘I arranged it with the staff. I thought we’d have a better time if we could go out a bit farther.’ He glanced at her, his brows knitted together in a frown. ‘Are you all right with boats? I know some people are afraid of open water.’
His thoughtfulness touched her, belated as it was. It really was so confoundedly easy for Leo to affect her, she thought. To make her love him. ‘It’s fine,’ she told him. ‘It’s great, actually. I love sailing.’
And as Leo navigated the boat out into the sea, the sun bathing them both in warm, golden light, Alyse stretched out on the bridge deck, it was great. It was fantastic.
She tilted her head back so the sun bathed her face and felt herself begin to relax, the tension dropping from her shoulders, her body loosening and leaning into the sun. She’d been strung as taut as a bow for far too long; it felt good to unbend.
When they were out on the open water, the sea shimmering in every direction, Leo came and joined her on the bridge deck.
‘You look like you’re enjoying yourself.’
She lowered her head to smile at him, one hand shading her eyes from the dazzling sun. ‘I am. It’s good to be away from it all.’
He sat beside her, his long, muscular legs stretched out next to hers, his hands braced behind him. ‘The media attention was a bit wild these last few months.’
‘I’ll say. The journalists were going through my rubbish, and my parents’ rubbish, and my friends’ as well.’
His mouth twisted in a grimace. ‘I’m sorry.’
She shrugged in response. ‘I signed up for it, didn’t I? When I agreed.’
‘That still doesn’t make it pleasant.’
‘No, but you’ve been living with it for your whole life, haven’t you?’
His eyes narrowed, although whether just from the sun or because of what she’d said Alyse didn’t know.
‘I have,’ he agreed without expression and then he rose from the deck. ‘We’re out far enough now. We can anchor soon.’
She watched him at the sails of the catamaran, the muscles of his back rippling under the tee-shirt that the wind blew taut against his body. She felt a rush of desire but also a swell of sympathy. She hadn’t considered Leo’s childhood all that deeply before; she knew as prince and heir he’d lived in the spotlight for most of his life.
Of course, the glare of that spotlight had intensified with their engagement. Did he resent that? Did he resent her, for making something he must not like worse? It was a possibility she’d never considered before, and an unwelcome one at that.
A few minutes later Leo set anchor and the catamaran bobbed amid the waves as he tossed their snorkelling equipment on the deck.
He tugged off his tee-shirt and shorts and Alyse did the same, conscious once again of the skimpiness of the string bikini she wore. She hadn’t found a single modest swimming costume in her suitcases.
She looked up and there could be no mistaking the blaze of heat in his eyes. ‘Your swimming costumes,’ he remarked, ‘are practically indecent.’
Alyse felt a prickly blush spread not just over her face but her whole body. ‘Sorry. I didn’t choose them.’
‘No need to apologise. I quite like them.’ He handed her a pair of fins and then tugged his own on. ‘What do you mean, you didn’t choose them?’
‘All my clothes are chosen by stylists.’
He frowned. ‘Don’t you see them first? And get to approve them?’
Alyse shrugged. ‘I suppose I could have insisted, but...’ She trailed off, not wanting to admit how cowed she’d been by Queen Sophia’s army of stylists and staff who had seemed to know so much more than her, and had obviously not cared about what she thought.
At eighteen, overawed and more than a little intimidated, she hadn’t possessed the courage to disagree with any of them, or so much as offer her own opinion. As the years had passed, bucking the trend had just become harder, not easier.
‘I didn’t realise you had so little say in such matters. I suppose my mother can be quite intimidating.’
‘That’s a bit of an understatement,’ she answered lightly, but Leo just frowned.
‘You were so young when we became engaged.’
She felt herself tense uneasily, unsure what he was implying. ‘Eighteen, as you know.’
‘Young. And sheltered.’ His frown deepened and he shook his head. ‘I remember how it was, Alyse. I know my parents can be very...persuasive. And, as the media attention grew, it might have seemed like you were caught in a whirlwind you couldn’t control.’
‘It did feel like that sometimes,’ she allowed. ‘At times it was utterly overwhelming. But I knew what I was doing, Leo.’ More or less. ‘I might have only been eighteen, but I knew my own mind.’ And her own heart. Not that she would ever tell him that. After Leo’s revelations about how he didn’t even believe in love, never mind actually having ever felt it, Alyse had no intention of baring her heart. Not now, and perhaps not ever.
She forced the thought away. This is a beginning.
‘Still...’ he began, and she thought how easy it would be, to let him believe she’d been railroaded into this marriage. And there was some truth in it, after all. The media attention had been out of control, and in those dark moments when she’d considered breaking their engagement she’d known she didn’t possess the strength to go against everything and everyone—the monarchy, the media, the adoring public. It had simply been too much.
But it wasn’t the whole truth and, while it might satisfy Leo as to why she’d agreed in the first place—a question she hadn’t been willing to answer last night—she wouldn’t perpetuate another lie.
But neither will you tell him the real reason—that you were in love with him, and still are.
With determined flippancy she adjusted her mask and put her hands on her hips. ‘How do I look? I don’t think anyone can be taken seriously in flippers.’
His expression lightened into a smile, and Alyse felt a rush of relief. Now she was the one avoiding conversation. Honesty.
‘Probably not,’ he agreed and held out one of his own flippered feet. ‘But they do the job. Are you ready?’
She nodded and a moment later they were slipping over the side of the boat. When Leo put his hands on her bared waist to steady her as she slid into the water, Alyse felt her heart rate rocket. Just the touch of his hands on her flesh sent an ache of longing through her. She wanted to turn to him, to rip off their masks and stupid fins and forget anything but this need that had been building in her for so long, the need she longed to be sated. She wanted to be his lover as well as his friend.
Then he let go of her and with a splash she landed and kicked away from the boat, Leo swimming next to her.
As soon as she put her face in the sea the world seemed to open up, the ocean floor with its twists and curves of coral stretching away endlessly in every direction. Fish of every colour and size darted among the coral: schools of black-and-yellow-striped fish, one large blue fish swimming on its own and a fish that even seemed to change colours as it moved.
Overwhelmed after just a few minutes, Alyse lifted her head from the water. Leo immediately did the same, taking his mask off to gaze at her in concern. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Amazed,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never seen so many fish before. They’re all so beautiful.’
‘The snorkelling here is supposed to be the best in the Caribbean.’
She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘You sound like a tourist advert.’
‘I just do my research. You want to keep going?’
‘Of course.’
They snorkelled side by side for over an hour, pointing different fish out to one another, kicking in synchronicity. At one point Leo reached for her hand and pulled her after him to view an octopus nestling in a cave of coral and they grinned at each other at the sight, Leo’s eyes glinting behind his mask.
Finally, hungry and tired, they returned to the boat, hauling themselves dripping onto the deck.
‘I had the staff pack us a lunch,’ Leo informed her. ‘They should have left it on the boat.’
Alyse sat drying in the sun while Leo took a wicker basket from one of the storage compartments and began to unpack its contents.
‘Champagne and strawberries?’ She surveyed the contents of the basket with her eyebrows raised. ‘Quite the romantic feast.’
‘Did you really expect anything else?’
She watched as he laid it all out on a blanket. ‘Do you ever get tired of it?’ she asked quietly. ‘The pretending? With me?’
His fingers stilled around the neck of the champagne bottle and then he quickly and expertly popped the cork. ‘Of course, just as I imagine you do.’
‘Why did you agree to it all, Leo? Was it really just to help stabilise the monarchy?’
The glance he gave her was dark and fathomless. ‘Does that not seem like enough reason to you?’
‘It seems like a huge sacrifice.’
‘No more than you were willing to make.’
They were getting into dangerous territory, Alyse knew. She didn’t want him to ask her again why she’d agreed. She didn’t want to have to answer.
‘Does the monarchy matter that much to you?’
‘Of course it does. It’s everything to me.’
Everything. That was rather all-encompassing; it didn’t leave room for much else. ‘I suppose you’ve been preparing to be king since you were born.’
Leo didn’t answer for a moment and Alyse felt the tension in his suddenly stilled hands, his long, lean fingers wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle. Then he began to pour, the bubbles fizzing and popping against the sides of the flute. ‘More or less.’
Alyse surveyed him, felt instinctively he wasn’t saying something, something important. Perhaps he did have secrets...just as she did.
‘Another toast?’ she asked as Leo handed her a glass.
‘We’ve had quite a few toasts recently.’
‘And quite a lot of champagne.’
‘People can be amazingly unoriginal about what they think is romantic,’ he said dryly. He eyed her thoughtfully over the rim of his glass. ‘How about a toast to friendship?’
Alyse’s heart lurched. ‘You’re coming around, then?’ she said lightly, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement.
‘A bit.’
‘To friendship, then,’ she answered, and they both drank, their eyes meeting over the rims of their glasses. Alyse felt her insides tighten and then turn over at the look of heat in Leo’s navy eyes. They simmered with it, that warmth seeming to reach out and steal right through her. For such a coldly practical man, his eyes burned. She burned.
‘So,’ she offered shakily. ‘What is there to eat besides strawberries?’
‘Oh, lots of things,’ he said lightly, glancing away from her to fill a plate with various delectable offerings. ‘You won’t go hungry.’
‘No,’ Alyse murmured. But she was going hungry...hungry in an entirely different, and carnal, way. She knew he wanted her, had thrilled to the taste and feel of his desire when he’d kissed her, when he’d pulled her close to that hard, hard body. Yet she still didn’t quite have the confidence to act on it now, to thrust away the plate he’d given her and reach for something far more delicious: him.
‘Try some,’ Leo offered, and she saw the heat flare in his eyes, wondered if he knew the nature of her thoughts.
Wordlessly Alyse put something in her mouth; she didn’t even look to see what it was. The burst of sweet flavour on her tongue surprised her and she realised she’d bitten into a plantain fried in orange juice.
‘Good?’ Leo asked, and now she heard the desire in his voice as well as saw it in his eyes; it poured over her like chocolate, rich and sweet. She’d never heard him sound like this before, never felt so much in herself—or from him.
Somehow she managed to eat most of what was on her plate, the rich flavours bursting on her tongue. Every heavy-lidded look and small, knowing smile from Leo made her more aware of everything: the taste of the food; the feel of the sun on her salt-slicked skin; the heat and desire coursing through her body like warmed honey.
Finally there were only the strawberries left, and the champagne.
‘And this is the only way to eat these,’ Leo said, dipping a strawberry in his flute of champagne and then raising it to Alyse’s parted lips.
Her heart rate skittered and her breathing hitched as she opened her mouth and took a bite of the champagne-sodden fruit. The taste on her tongue was both tart and sweet, but far headier than any champagne she could drink was the look of unabashed hunger in Leo’s eyes—and the answering surge she felt in herself.
Strawberry juice dribbled down her chin and Leo’s expression flared hotter as he caught it with the tip of his thumb then licked the juice from his own hand.
Alyse let out an audible shudder. Then, filled with a new daring fuelled by this heady desire, she reached for a strawberry and dunked it into her own glass of champagne. Leo’s narrowed gaze followed her movements and after a heartbeat’s hesitation he opened his mouth.
Her fingers near to trembling, Alyse put the strawberry to his lips. Juice ran over her fingers as he bit down, his gaze hot and hard on hers. She shuddered again, her whole body singing with awareness and need. Then Leo turned his head so his lips brushed her fingers and with his tongue he caught a drip of juice from the sensitive skin of her wrist.
Alyse let out a shocked gasp at the exquisite sensation. ‘Leo...’
And then he was pushing aside the remnants of their picnic, champagne spilling and strawberries scattering, and was reaching for her, finally, finally reaching for her.
His hands came hard onto her shoulders and then his mouth was hard on hers, tasting both tart and sweet from the champagne and the fruit.
His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting, searching, and then finding. Pleasure burst inside her like fireworks, like sparks of the sun, heating her all over. Alyse brought her hands up to his shoulders, her palms smoothing and then clutching the hot, bared skin.
Leo’s mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and then her neck, his hand cupping her breast with only the thin, damp fabric of her bikini top between the heat of his palm and her sensitive skin.
Alyse moaned aloud, the sound escaping from her, impossible to contain, and Leo drew back.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, smoothing her hair away from her face. ‘I’m rushing like a randy schoolboy and you deserve better than that.’
She blinked, still dazed by the sensations coursing through her. Leo smiled, no more than a quirk of his mouth. ‘I don’t want your first time to be some hasty grope on the deck of a boat. I do have that much sensitivity, Alyse.’
Alyse blinked again, his words trickling through her, leaving ice in their wake. Her first time. Hers—not theirs.
Leo, she realised, thought she was a virgin.
