Wedding Party Collection: Marrying The Prince. Кейт Хьюит
of relief. Now she was the one avoiding conversation. Honesty.
‘Probably not,’ he agreed and held out one of his own flippered feet. ‘But they do the job. Are you ready?’
She nodded and a moment later they were slipping over the side of the boat. When Leo put his hands on her bared waist to steady her as she slid into the water, Alyse felt her heart rate rocket. Just the touch of his hands on her flesh sent an ache of longing through her. She wanted to turn to him, to rip off their masks and stupid fins and forget anything but this need that had been building in her for so long, the need she longed to be sated. She wanted to be his lover as well as his friend.
Then he let go of her and with a splash she landed and kicked away from the boat, Leo swimming next to her.
As soon as she put her face in the sea the world seemed to open up, the ocean floor with its twists and curves of coral stretching away endlessly in every direction. Fish of every colour and size darted among the coral: schools of black-and-yellow-striped fish, one large blue fish swimming on its own and a fish that even seemed to change colours as it moved.
Overwhelmed after just a few minutes, Alyse lifted her head from the water. Leo immediately did the same, taking his mask off to gaze at her in concern. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Amazed,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never seen so many fish before. They’re all so beautiful.’
‘The snorkelling here is supposed to be the best in the Caribbean.’
She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘You sound like a tourist advert.’
‘I just do my research. You want to keep going?’
‘Of course.’
They snorkelled side by side for over an hour, pointing different fish out to one another, kicking in synchronicity. At one point Leo reached for her hand and pulled her after him to view an octopus nestling in a cave of coral and they grinned at each other at the sight, Leo’s eyes glinting behind his mask.
Finally, hungry and tired, they returned to the boat, hauling themselves dripping onto the deck.
‘I had the staff pack us a lunch,’ Leo informed her. ‘They should have left it on the boat.’
Alyse sat drying in the sun while Leo took a wicker basket from one of the storage compartments and began to unpack its contents.
‘Champagne and strawberries?’ She surveyed the contents of the basket with her eyebrows raised. ‘Quite the romantic feast.’
‘Did you really expect anything else?’
She watched as he laid it all out on a blanket. ‘Do you ever get tired of it?’ she asked quietly. ‘The pretending? With me?’
His fingers stilled around the neck of the champagne bottle and then he quickly and expertly popped the cork. ‘Of course, just as I imagine you do.’
‘Why did you agree to it all, Leo? Was it really just to help stabilise the monarchy?’
The glance he gave her was dark and fathomless. ‘Does that not seem like enough reason to you?’
‘It seems like a huge sacrifice.’
‘No more than you were willing to make.’
They were getting into dangerous territory, Alyse knew. She didn’t want him to ask her again why she’d agreed. She didn’t want to have to answer.
‘Does the monarchy matter that much to you?’
‘Of course it does. It’s everything to me.’
Everything. That was rather all-encompassing; it didn’t leave room for much else. ‘I suppose you’ve been preparing to be king since you were born.’
Leo didn’t answer for a moment and Alyse felt the tension in his suddenly stilled hands, his long, lean fingers wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle. Then he began to pour, the bubbles fizzing and popping against the sides of the flute. ‘More or less.’
Alyse surveyed him, felt instinctively he wasn’t saying something, something important. Perhaps he did have secrets...just as she did.
‘Another toast?’ she asked as Leo handed her a glass.
‘We’ve had quite a few toasts recently.’
‘And quite a lot of champagne.’
‘People can be amazingly unoriginal about what they think is romantic,’ he said dryly. He eyed her thoughtfully over the rim of his glass. ‘How about a toast to friendship?’
Alyse’s heart lurched. ‘You’re coming around, then?’ she said lightly, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement.
‘A bit.’
‘To friendship, then,’ she answered, and they both drank, their eyes meeting over the rims of their glasses. Alyse felt her insides tighten and then turn over at the look of heat in Leo’s navy eyes. They simmered with it, that warmth seeming to reach out and steal right through her. For such a coldly practical man, his eyes burned. She burned.
‘So,’ she offered shakily. ‘What is there to eat besides strawberries?’
‘Oh, lots of things,’ he said lightly, glancing away from her to fill a plate with various delectable offerings. ‘You won’t go hungry.’
‘No,’ Alyse murmured. But she was going hungry...hungry in an entirely different, and carnal, way. She knew he wanted her, had thrilled to the taste and feel of his desire when he’d kissed her, when he’d pulled her close to that hard, hard body. Yet she still didn’t quite have the confidence to act on it now, to thrust away the plate he’d given her and reach for something far more delicious: him.
‘Try some,’ Leo offered, and she saw the heat flare in his eyes, wondered if he knew the nature of her thoughts.
Wordlessly Alyse put something in her mouth; she didn’t even look to see what it was. The burst of sweet flavour on her tongue surprised her and she realised she’d bitten into a plantain fried in orange juice.
‘Good?’ Leo asked, and now she heard the desire in his voice as well as saw it in his eyes; it poured over her like chocolate, rich and sweet. She’d never heard him sound like this before, never felt so much in herself—or from him.
Somehow she managed to eat most of what was on her plate, the rich flavours bursting on her tongue. Every heavy-lidded look and small, knowing smile from Leo made her more aware of everything: the taste of the food; the feel of the sun on her salt-slicked skin; the heat and desire coursing through her body like warmed honey.
Finally there were only the strawberries left, and the champagne.
‘And this is the only way to eat these,’ Leo said, dipping a strawberry in his flute of champagne and then raising it to Alyse’s parted lips.
Her heart rate skittered and her breathing hitched as she opened her mouth and took a bite of the champagne-sodden fruit. The taste on her tongue was both tart and sweet, but far headier than any champagne she could drink was the look of unabashed hunger in Leo’s eyes—and the answering surge she felt in herself.
Strawberry juice dribbled down her chin and Leo’s expression flared hotter as he caught it with the tip of his thumb then licked the juice from his own hand.
Alyse let out an audible shudder. Then, filled with a new daring fuelled by this heady desire, she reached for a strawberry and dunked it into her own glass of champagne. Leo’s narrowed gaze followed her movements and after a heartbeat’s hesitation he opened his mouth.
Her fingers near to trembling, Alyse put the strawberry to his lips. Juice ran over her fingers as he bit down, his gaze hot and hard on hers. She shuddered again, her whole body singing with awareness and need. Then Leo turned his head so his lips brushed her fingers and with his tongue he caught a drip of juice from the sensitive skin of her wrist.
Alyse