The Prince's Scandalous Wedding Vow

“You’re very intelligent.”

“Can we get back to the unbearably attractive part? Is it possible to be unbearably attractive?”

“Yes. You’ve proven it. Let me continue.” She tapped her fingers as if counting her points. “You have a sense of humor—when you want to.”

“I suppose that is a drawback, being unpredictable.”

Her lips twitched. “You have rich friends. That yacht was enormous. But that’s really more of a negative then a plus.”

“Why a negative?”

“From an environmental standpoint, it’s terrible.”

“I agree.”

Her brows arched. “You do?”

“I do. I’m always worried about the environment.”

“You are?”

He nodded.

She frowned, a faint link forming between her eyebrows. “That’s interesting,” she murmured.

“Is it?”

Josephine nodded. “You’re starting to have a clearer sense of self. I think some of your memories are returning. This is a good thing.”

He felt a sudden wash of unease, and he didn’t understand it. The return of his memory should be a great thing, and yet all he felt was a pervasive dread. “Let’s talk about you instead.”

“Why? I’m a boring academic—”

“Not boring, and academics are exciting.”

She laughed. “Are they?”

“I went to school with brilliant women. There is nothing sexier than a smart woman—” he broke off as he realized what he’d said. He’d gone to school with brilliant women. And he knew he hadn’t meant high school or grammar school. He’d meant university, and the words had been so comfortable, so natural. He also knew that calling university school was very American. Had he gone to school—college—in America?

He could see from Josephine’s expression that she’d heard the reference, too, and understood it, as well.

“Your memory is returning,” she said softly, breathlessly.

“You’re healing me,” he said. “All this sun and swimming.”

She smiled back at him. “It’s not as if there’s a lot to do here. No TV or video games.”

“But even if you had those, I don’t think it’s something you’d do. You love being outside. You’re at home in the sea.”

Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were bright as she tucked a long strand of sun-streaked hair behind her ear. “I’ve always grown up next to the sea. First in Hawaii and then here. I can’t imagine not swimming. If I go too many days without getting wet, I feel off. The sea always restores me.”

“You are a fish.”

She laughed. “My father says the same thing. He says that I have scales and they dry out if I’m out of the water too long. Thus my close proximity to the beach.”

“So maybe not a fish but a mermaid.”

“Maybe,” she answered, smiling, feeling strangely shy and sensitive because everything inside her seemed to be shifting and lurching. Changing.

She’d noticed it before, and she’d tried to suppress the feelings, but she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening, or real, any longer. She couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t aware of her. She couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t something taut and electric between them, because there was something about the way he looked at her, something in the intensity of his expression that made the air catch in her throat, making her heart gallop. The way he looked at her terrified her and yet, at the same time, thrilled her. Being near him was wonderful, confusing, exhilarating. No one had ever looked at her as if she were so important. No one had ever made her feel so beautiful. Every conversation made her feel alive, and she didn’t know why because there was nothing terribly revealing said. And yet he fascinated her. He’d fascinated her on the beach when he’d been just a mysterious stranger, and her fascination only grew with every day because how could he—this gorgeous, handsome stranger—want her?

And yet, being wanted was doing something to her, seducing her, making her question everything she believed. She’d always thought that she’d never have sex with someone, not unless he was her forever love, the man who would marry her, the man who would share a life with her. Looking into his eyes, she figured she was losing out on something beautiful. This felt special. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, something she wasn’t prepared to miss.

It helped that she knew the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

It was clear from the heat in his gaze that he desired her, and the knowledge was a heady power. An aphrodisiac that made her restless and curious. He could make her feel so much with just a look. How would she feel if he touched her? Kissed her?

She didn’t let herself think further than that. She’d never experienced more than a couple kisses, kisses that hadn’t inspired her in any way, making her think there was no need to repeat the experience. Until now. Somehow she sensed that kissing her mysterious stranger would be entirely different. Maybe even life-changing.

But did she want that?

She looked hard at her stranger, who truthfully was no longer a stranger, but someone who was quickly becoming very important to her.

She’d spent so much of her life alone, or alone with her father—which was virtually alone since he rarely spoke, his head always down, buried in his work. She understood her father’s fascination with his work and his commitment to research, but every now and then she wanted...more.

She wanted to be seen.

She wanted to be known.

She wanted to be...loved.

Growing up as she had had taught her tremendous self-reliance, but there were times she felt that her life had also left her empty and aching for more. More connection. More expression. More emotion.

Usually these thoughts and feelings happened late at night, and she’d blame fatigue and the need to sleep.

But she was feeling these things almost constantly lately. The arrival of her mystery man had changed something within her.

His arrival had made her aware of the world out there and that there was more to the world than she knew. But even with that knowledge, she also knew she was happy on Khronos. Most of the time she wanted nothing but her work and the sun and the sea. Most of the time she was utterly content.

She needed to be content again.

Abruptly, Josephine rose, moving away, trying to escape the heat suffusing her skin and ache filling her chest. Her father had left her here to manage the foundation’s station. She needed to stay focused on her responsibilities. “I’d better get back to work,” she said huskily.

“Can I help?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m just going to check the solar panels. You relax—”

“That’s all I’ve done the past few days. Show me what you’re doing, or what needs to be done, so I can help while I’m here.”

She smiled tightly. “Okay, follow m

e.”

The old Greek cottage had been constructed of stones, without the charm of whitewash, and while it looked ancient and almost abandoned from the front, there were clean, well-maintained stairs behind—stairs that rose up to a clearing filled with a mass of solar panels and equipment, and another smaller stone house.

“That’s where the foundation keeps all the seismic monitoring equipment. The equipment is connected to portable seismometers along the edge of the island, as well as some in the water. You see, we’re sitting practically on top of a volcano. Khronos is just the tip, which is why we have the seismometers to detect rock movement in the earth’s crust. Some movements may be the result of rising magma beneath the surface, which could mean an awakening volcano. We also have equipment here that monitors gases like sulfur dioxide, as an increase in sulfur dioxide could be an indication of magma near the earth’s surface.”

“And if that should happen? What do you do?”

“It hasn’t happened in the past ten years, so I think I’m safe. Odds are, I’m safe.”

“You’re pretty nonchalant about something potentially catastrophic.”

“Some people are terrified of volcanoes, particularly supervolcanoes, but there has never been such an eruption in human memory, and did you know there are actually quite a few people who choose to live near a volcano because they’re drawn to the geothermal energy, the minerals and the fertile soil? I’m a fan of geothermal energy because it’s very clean, and the resource is nearly inexhaustible.

“Speaking of energy, come see,” she said, walking farther back along a compact dirt path that cut deeply through the rough, rocky terrain dotted with a few gnarled olive trees. “Twenty years ago the foundation was powered by those wind turbines before us. Unfortunately, they were prone to breaking down and the repairs were costly, and then new, improved solar technology became a better answer, so eventually no one bothered to repair or replace the turbines.”

“They do look forlorn,” he said, taking in the line of tall wind turbines that covered the top of the island.