The Crown Prince's Bride (Royal Duology 2)

She stood, and wobbled a little. Her eyes widened as she picked up her little purse. “Oh my. I do believe the wine has gone to my head.”

“Maybe a walk on the beach?” It was nearly dark now, and the stars were starting to poke through the indigo sky.

“I’m afraid of slipping in the sand,” she confessed. “But I wouldn’t say no to a stroll through the gardens.”

She took his arm once more, and looked up at him with a tenderness that made him want to say the hell with it and sweep her up in his arms. Such a spectacle was out of the question, though, so he stroked a finger over the hand that rested on his elbow.

The gardens would prolong the evening, but Raoul was more sure than ever that it would end with the two of them in his suite. What happened after that was up to her.

* * *

Stephani tried to ignore the way her pulse quickened every time Raoul touched her, but it was no good. She’d had a little too much wine at dinner, but figured a walk in the resort gardens would be a good way to clear her head.

Only she’d been so wrong.

Their steps slowed as they made their way along the cobbled paths. The rosebushes, hedges, and shrubs were no doubt beautiful, but in the evening light, they cast secretive shadows. It was secluded and hardly anyone was there. One moment they saw another couple, the next they were completely alone.

“It was a good day,” Raoul said softly. His shoulder brushed against hers.

“Yes, it was.” She couldn’t look up at him. Couldn’t meet his gaze and let him see the temptation, the longing she knew had to show. So she kept her eyes straight ahead on the path, focused on remaining steady on her slim heels. “I’ve never felt so pampered, Raoul. Thank you so much.”

“I wanted to do it for you.”

His words sent a thrill through her. A boss would say “you earned it.” But wanting to do something for another person . . . that came from affection.

“You never realize just how much tension you’re holding in your body until someone works it out,” she replied, but immediately was aware of the innuendo of her words. Or maybe that was just because she couldn’t get him off her mind. All evening she’d been thinking about sliding that suit jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning the white shirt. She’d seen him shirtless before, like this morning in the pool, and she wanted him with a yearning so intense it sometimes threatened to overwhelm her. Until last week, everything had been in her imagination. But she’d tasted him now, touched him. Knew the texture of his skin and the sound of his sigh in her ear.

Too much wine. She’d definitely overdone it.

“Steph,” he said, and halted.

They were in the shadow of a hedge, the little green leaves nearly black in the growing dark.

“We shouldn’t . . . we’re in the garden, Raoul. We still need to be discreet.”

“I know. I just . . . one kiss. Just one to get me through until we get upstairs to some privacy.”

Whoosh. The flames she’d tried to keep banked throughout the evening flared to life. He murmured something in Spanish, but she couldn’t make it out because he was pulling her close at the same time, pressing his mouth to hers. She opened her lips to him, inviting him in.

“Mmmm.” His lips vibrated with the sound, and desire rushed through her limbs to her core. Even though she was in heels, he was taller than she, and she stood a little more on tiptoe to nibble at his mouth. Her wrap slipped off her arm and dangled to the grass, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to taste him, to feel the urgency pounding between them.

He pulled away, breathing hard, his lips slightly swollen. “You were right. This isn’t wise. One kiss isn’t going to satisfy me and I’m not into public displays of . . . well.” He cupped her jaw. “There are stolen kisses and then there’s playing with fire.”

“I know,” she replied. “I knew it would be like this. I knew—”

He cut her off with another searing kiss, then tugged on her hand. “Stephani, I know you said you wanted to be ready, so I’m going to ask you and I want you to be honest with me.”

Her heart clubbed so hard against her ribs she could hear it in her ears.

“Will you come to my suite tonight? Stay with me?”

She nodded dumbly, her chin bobbing up and down. He reached over and snagged the end of her shawl, tucking it back up over her shoulder.

“Okay, then,” he said, letting out a huge breath. “Okay.”

She got the feeling he was trying to measure his steps so that they didn’t appear to hurry, but they were failing miserably. Her sandals tripped over the stones as if she were dancing, and once inside they headed straight for the elevator bank. They rode up alone, and Stephani had the crazy urge to kiss him while the doors were shut, but she also knew there were probably cameras feeding through to a security room somewhere. She also knew that guaranteed privacy was rarely ever really guaranteed.

The doors opened with a subtle ding.