A Night of Royal Consequences

‘Not a chance,’ he said. Amusement coloured his voice. ‘Don’t you want to know where your adventures could take you?’

‘I’ve got a pretty good idea, which is why I hope your tongue is firmly planted in your cheek. Just for the record, I’ll be sleeping on my own tonight,’ she added as Luca strode on across the courtyard with her safely locked in his arms.

‘Brava,’ he said, showing no sign of slowing down.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, she noticed. She should put up some sort of token struggle, but it was a magical night, a magical moment, and not too many of them came along.

Her senses rioted when Luca dipped his head to brush a kiss against her neck. She would see this adventure through, so long as it only took her from one side of the courtyard to the other. ‘I have to go,’ she insisted, when he lowered her to her feet to acknowledge some boisterous partygoers.

‘No. You have to stay,’ he argued when he was done, and so close to her ear that it tingled.

‘Are you determined to lead me astray?’

‘Would I?’ Sweeping her up before she had chance to protest, he strode on towards the palace gardens.

She was dangerously aroused, but for one night, she was going to be Callie from the lemon groves, without fear or guilt, or any of the dutiful thoughts that had curbed her in the past.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked as Luca opened a gate leading to lemon groves.

‘Wait and see.’

He didn’t stop until they reached the riverbank where he set her down. She had free will. She could do what she liked. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. Conscious he was watching her, she smiled, but Luca wasn’t fooled. ‘What’s worrying you?’ he said.

‘I’m not worried.’ Apart from the longing to have more nights like this, which she knew in her heart of hearts would not be possible. Moonlight lit the scene. Sparkling water rushed by. The bed of grass beneath her feet was soft and deep, and the midnight-blue sky overhead was littered with stars. It was the perfect setting on the perfect night, and Luca was the perfect man. Reaching out, she linked their hands.

Luca soothed and seduced her with kisses, with touches, and with the expression in his eyes. She believed they were connecting on a deeper level. He made her want to know more about him, and for this to be the start of something, rather than the grand finale. His hands worked magic on her body. His strength seduced her, his scent seduced her...everything about Luca seduced her. He was a man of the earth, a man of the people, who worked with his body, his mind, and good humour, as well as unstinting loyalty towards his Prince, which he’d proved when he had refused to point him out to her.

This adventure might have its ups and downs, but Luca had featured large in every part of it. He made her spirit soar, and her body cry out for his touch.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. There was no chance she was going anywhere any time soon. She was a woman with needs and desires, who saw no reason for self-denial. She hadn’t prepared for this, but had taken the usual precaution

s, more in hope than expectation of a love life some time in the far distant future. She hadn’t planned anything, because placing trust in a man was a huge deal for Callie, but Luca was different. He made her feel safe. He made her believe she could trust him.

His mouth was warm and as persuasive as sin, and, though she was tentative at first, she soon matched his fire. He was more controlled. She was not. She was new to this, and had had no idea how the fire could take hold and consume her. Luca kept his touch tantalisingly light, far too light for her frustrated body. The urge to know every part of him intimately was clawing at her senses. ‘I want you,’ she said as she stared up into his eyes.

He knew she was suffering. Of course he knew. He was responsible for it. She was hardly playing hard to get, and Luca was available for pleasure. Tracing his magnificent torso over his insubstantial top tipped the balance from caution to action. ‘Take it off,’ she instructed, ‘and then the rest of your clothes.’

His eyes fired with interest and amusement. ‘You first,’ he countered. ‘Or at least, match me.’

And so the game began. It was a game with only one conclusion. Once started, it couldn’t be stopped. Without breaking eye contact, she began unbuttoning her blouse. She did so slowly, and felt heat rise between them. It was her turn to make him wait. Pushing the soft fabric from her shoulders, she let it drop.

He frowned. ‘You’re wearing a bra.’

‘I’d say you’re overdressed too,’ she murmured.

He smiled.

‘You should have drawn up your rules before this started,’ she teased, ‘because now you have to take off your flip-flops too.’

Maintaining eye contact as he kicked them off, she whispered, ‘And now your shorts.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Absolutely sure.’ She would keep her eyeline level with his.

‘Take off your trainers,’ he suggested.

‘If that’s a ruse to give me chance to have second thoughts, save it. I won’t change my mind.’