“You two could be on the cover of a magazine,” she called back. “It’ll just take me a minute.” Amy waved her phone in the air. “Look like you’re still eating lunch.”
Veronica gamely picked up her sandwich, grinning at Amy. “You sure you don’t need a hand up?”
“I’m good,” Amy called. She put one foot on the rocks. They were wet and slippery, but she hadn’t worn high heels, so she’d be fine. One more step, two, then three, and Amy was balancing precariously on the rocks. “Okay!” She brandished her phone in the air. “Just...pose a little bit. Look at her, Artur.” She didn’t love the sight of him gazing down at another woman, but everyone else in the country would, and that’s what mattered.
Amy snapped a few photos, the last one with both of them sunlit and happy, smiling at her from across the sand. “Great! That’s all I—”
At that moment, the breeze picked up, strong enough to throw her off balance. In her nonpregnant days, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but as her center of gravity shifted, Amy felt every shift in the wind these days. She took a step backward to steady herself.
It was the wrong step.
Her feet plunged into the water, up to her waist, and Amy yelped at the cold. It was freezing. So much for summer swimming. An embarrassed heat came to her cheeks as she heaved one foot back onto the outcropping.
“Amy? Amy?” Artur’s voice was frantic.
“I’m fine,” she started to say, but a wave swelled behind her, soaking her entirely...along with her phone. She coughed, sputtering.
Her other foot was stuck.
Artur’s face appeared on the rock above her, and the next thing she knew, he was in the water next to her, lifting her gently in his arms. He didn’t seem to notice when the water crashed into him. Didn’t even blink it out of his eyes. He only turned her until her foot came free and carried her back to the sand.
“Are you all right?” Veronica had run out toward the rocks, her sandwich abandoned at the piece of driftwood.
“I’m fine,” Amy said, teeth chattering as Artur set her on her feet. “But I’ll need a change of clothes.”
It must have been some kind of princely magic, because the return trip to the hotel hardly seemed to take any time at all. Artur said his goodbyes to Veronica and hustled her inside, up to the top floor.
“This isn’t my room,” Amy protested, but Artur didn’t reply as he ushered her through the door and shut it tightly behind them.
“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and warm you up,” he said.
His concern was genuine as she stripped down to her underwear and he wrapped her in fluffy towels, rubbing his hands briskly up and down her arms. But when she noticed he was shivering, too, and he complied with her instructions to started stripping of his own wet clothes…well…The room warmed up in a hurry.
Artur lifted Amy in his arms, pressing her back against the wall, and when his mouth met hers, she was already ready, already squirming closer. It was fast and furious, their skin still damp with seawater, and Amy relished in the sensation of his muscles working beneath her hands as she held on for dear life.
“I’ve wanted this every moment,” he growled into her ear.
She silenced him with a kiss. All the need she felt was centered between her legs, and there was only one cure.
Artur was it.
He drove deeply into her and her pleasure grew and grew until she exploded, her legs clenching tightly around him. Artur followed her a moment later.
There was a knock on the door.
“You have to be kidding me,” she whispered into her ear. Artur held her still, resting his forehead on her shoulder.
“Yes?” he called.
“Is everything all right, Your Highness? The wet clothes—” It was one of the assistants for the trip.
“Are taken care of,” Artur said, not letting go of Amy. “Everything’s taken care of.”
9
Artur woke in the king-size bed, stretched...and felt Amy still next to him, the warmth of her still gathered under the sheets. He’d never known that it could be such a joy to wake up next to a woman like this. Of course, he’d woken up next to other women before, but...not one like Amy. Last night, he hadn’t wanted her to leave. Finally, they’d tipped a maid from the hotel to bring some of her clothes discreetly to his room, and she’d stayed the night.
He rolled toward her, only to discover that she was already awake, the sheets hiked high on her chest as she stared at the ceiling.