“Don’t say a word,” he said in her ear. “Not one word. I don’t know who they are but they aren’t picnickers.”
Aria was chiefly concerned with catching her breath. She lifted one hand and waved it.
He rolled off of her but pulled her close to him so that she was still half under him.
“You cannot be allowed—”
He clamped his hand over her mouth. “Quiet! They’re looking this way.”
She pried his fingers away then looked at the men. One stood by the boat and lit a cigarette while the other two, carrying a heavy crate, disappeared into the trees. When they returned, they were empty-handed.
J.T. held Aria tightly while the men climbed into the boat and motored away.
“You may release me now,” she said when the men were gone.
J.T. kept holding her, his one hand creeping down toward her hip. “What kind of underwear did you have on? It sure made a difference.”
Her mother’s training had not included this situation. She reacted out of a primitive female instinct: she elbowed him in the ribs then rolled away and stood.
The man lay there rubbing his ribs. “I’ve been here too long if you’re starting to look good. Go back to the camp.”
“What did the men leave in the box?”
He rolled up on his feet. “Well, well, the princess is curious. I should have let you tell them you’ll not allow them to litter your island.”
“This is an American island,” she said, confused.
“Come on,” he said, groaning. “Does anyone in your country have a sense of humor?” He started down the beach and she followed.
“Only when they are not being held prisoner. Keep your hands off of me.”
“Someone should have put his hands on you long ago. How old are you?”
“I don’t think—” she began, then sighed. “Twenty-four.”
“That’s an old maid in wartime America. What’s this prince you’re going to marry like?”
“He’s a count and he’s related to the English and Norwegian thrones.”
“Ah, I see, you’ll breed pure-blood brats. Is he related to you?”
She hated his tone. “Just barely. We are fourth cousins.”
“No blithering idiots out of that. Who picked him out?”
“Lieutenant Montgomery, I very much resent these personal questions.”
“Maybe I’m just trying to find out about your country, your customs and such. Aren’t you curious about Americans?”
“I have studied your customs. Your Pilgrims arrived in the seventeenth century, all the Texans were killed at the Alamo, your government is based on a constitution, your—”
“No, I mean about us.”
She was quiet a moment. “I find Americans to be a very strange sort of people. So far, this has not been the most pleasant of trips.”
He gave a laugh at that and stopped where the boat had landed. “Stay here—and I mean that. Stay here.” He disappeared into the trees, returning a moment later.
“Stolen navy property. There’s a big stash of it. I’m sure they’re black-marketing it.”