His Majesty's Mistake

She turned onto her side to look at him. The wooden shutters were partially open and moonlight fell across the bed in strips. A finger of light illuminated Makin’s mouth. It was a firm, generous mouth that knew how to kiss her senseless, make her weak in the knees.

Gently she reached out to touch his cheek, a light touch, the briefest caress, as she didn’t want to wake him. He needed his sleep.

He was a good man.

Better than she deserved.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EVEN though she’d been awake half the night, Emmeline woke at six and quietly slipped from bed to go dress in the spacious walk–in closet. She changed into a long cotton skirt and a knit top and then grabbed her sandals and headed outside for an early walk.

Skirting the island villa’s immense and gorgeous gardens, she descended the different terraces to walk the length of the cove, on the beach of soft, powdery, pale sand.

Her head ached from lack of sleep. Her heart felt even worse.

Makin heard her leave the bed and watched as she tiptoed from their room with sandals in her hand. He knew she hadn’t slept well, knew she’d been waiting impatiently for dawn so she could escape.

After she left, he rose and showered and headed toward the kitchen for coffee.

Cook was already in there, baking. She greeted Makin effusively and poured him a cup of steaming-hot coffee while asking where he and the queen would like to have breakfast. The edge of his mouth lifted as he imagined Emmeline’s reaction to being called his queen. “Outside,” he said, still smiling faintly, “on the upper terrace. Her Highness is out for a walk, so I’ll wait to eat until she’s returned.”

He carried his coffee outside and leaned against the balustrade. He was still savoring his drink when Emmeline appeared on the lower terrace, cheeks pink, golden hair tousled. She looked young and fresh in her ruffled coral cotton skirt and white knit top, unbelievably appealing.

“You went to the beach?” he asked as she climbed the stone stairs to join him on the upper terrace.

“Yes. Looking for shells.”

“Did you find any?”

She turned her hand over and showed him the three delicate shells in her palm. “These.”

“Pretty,” he said, admiring them before glancing up at her. “But do be careful. The old staircase at the lower terrace worries me. It should have been replaced years ago.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“I did. And you?”

So she wouldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t trust him. Was determined to hide. “I was worried about you.”

She looked down at the shells in her hand. “Why?”

“Because I care about you.”

“Then don’t worry. I’m great.” She smiled then, a quick tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Have you eaten yet? I’m starving!”

After breakfast they spent the day snorkeling, sunbathing and swimming, both in the ocean and the big pool, and then mid-afternoon, after a long, leisurely lunch, Makin excused himself to take care of some business while Emmeline took a much-needed nap.

She woke up slowly, stretching lazily, her gaze fixed on the bright blue sky and turquoise water outside the bedroom window.

She’d slept well, and must have dreamed something lovely because she felt good, better than she had in days.

She liked Marquette. Could get used to coming here. And she’d enjoyed spending the day with Makin today. Earlier, as they swam and snorkeled and splashed in the pool, she’d laughed easily and felt happy. The real kind of happiness. But that kind of happiness scared her. It made you vulnerable, made you hurt when it ended.

Leaving bed, Emmeline disappeared into their ensuite bath to shower and wash her hair, taking time to blow it dry. With her towel wrapped around her toga-style, she headed back to the bedroom to figure out what she’d wear for that evening.

Makin was stretched out on the bed now, hands behind his head, a hot, hungry light in his eyes. “I almost joined you in the shower.”

She blushed and tugged her towel tighter. “I shower alone,” she said primly.

“Not for long.”

Cheeks rosy, she disappeared into the closet.

“Cook has re-created our wedding dinner for us,” Makin called to her.

“That’s nice of her,” she answered, emerging with a long ivory satin gown pieced together by long ropes of pearls. The dress had such a daringly low back and delicate beaded straps that Emmeline immediately thought of a harem girl. “What is this?” she asked, giving the hanger a shake.

“One of the dresses I ordered for you.”

“When?”

“Yesterday when we were flying from Brabant. You were asleep and I was bored so I did a little online shopping.”