It might help to hold my hand.’
It was there, right in front of her, palm downwards and fingers outstretched in invitation.
And it was huge.
Not the hand, although it had long, artistic-looking fingers. No. It was the idea of voluntarily putting her own into it that was so huge. Five years was a very long time not to have allowed the touch of a man’s skin against her own.
But the need to survive was an overwhelmingly strong motivation. Strong enough to break a protective barrier that was inappropriate in this moment. She put her hand in his and felt his fingers curl around hers. She could feel the strength of the arm attached to that hand. The solidness of the body attached to the arm. The confidence of each step that was being taken.
He was half a pace ahead of her, because there was no room to walk side by side, but the hand was all that mattered.
He was holding her.
And he would keep her safe.
* * *
She was a fighter, this Mika.
And there was something wild about her.
She was certainly unlike any woman he’d ever met before. For a start, she was out here all by herself, which advertised independence and courage, but she was tiny. Her head barely reached his shoulder, which probably made her look younger than she really was—an intriguing contrast to those big, dark eyes that made you think she’d seen far more than her age should have allowed for. She had spiky dark hair, which should have seemed unattractive to someone who’d always favoured long, blonde tresses, but he had to admit that it suited Mika. So did the clothes that looked more suitable for a walk on a beach than a mountain hike—denim shorts that were frayed at the bottom and a loose white singlet, the hem of which didn’t quite meet the waistband of the shorts.
The shoes weren’t exactly suitable either, being well-worn-looking trainers, and it looked as though her feet were bare inside them, but the surprise of that choice had been well and truly surpassed when Raoul had noticed her tattoo. The inked design looked tribal—like a series of peaked waves encircling her upper arm just below armpit level. No. Maybe even that observation had been trumped by spotting the tiny charm on the simple silver chain around her neck.
A dolphin...
The symbol of his homeland. What would she think if she knew that she was wearing something that gave her an instant connection to everything he held most dear in his life?
But it had been that instinctive flinch from a touch that had been intended as no more than reassurance that had really given him the sense of wildness about her. It wasn’t just the physical appearance that said she made her own choices or the fact that she was alone in a potentially dangerous place. It was that wariness of the touch, the hesitation in accepting contact from another human, that had been revealed by her body language when he’d offered to take her hand.
The trembling he’d felt when she’d finally accepted the offer.
Or perhaps it was the way she’d been doggedly following him even though it was clearly an enormous struggle. She’d been as white as a sheet when he’d turned to check on how she was doing. He could see that she was pushing herself beyond her limits but he could also see the determination that she wasn’t going to let it defeat her. Anger, almost, that she’d been beaten into submission. Like a wild creature that had been trapped?
Another hundred metres along this goat track of a path—past a rustic wooden sign with Praiano written on one side and Nocelle on the other—and Raoul could feel that the trembling in her hand had ebbed. The holding had all been on his part to begin with but now he could feel a return pressure from that small hand he was holding and it made him feel...good.
Protective. She hadn’t wanted him to touch her but she’d allowed it when she’d reached the end of her endurance.
She was trusting him and he wasn’t going to break that trust. He would look after this wild creature of a woman until he was absolutely sure she was okay.
‘Don’t worry,’ he told her. ‘It’ll wear off as soon as you don’t have that drop beside you.’
‘I know.’ It sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth.
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ he added. ‘Vertigo is like altitude sickness. It makes no difference how fit or strong you are. These things just happen.’
A tiny huff of sound suggested that Mika didn’t let things just happen to her and Raoul felt a flash of empathy. Imagine if it had happened to him. If he’d set out to discover the qualities in himself that would allow him to face his future with confidence and he’d been left helpless and totally dependent on the kindness of a stranger...
Oddly, he felt almost envious of Mika. Maybe it took something that dramatic to strip away every layer that life had cloaked you with. To face that kind of fear would certainly reveal any strengths or weaknesses. Maybe the kind of challenge he needed was something like Mika had just faced—something that you would never choose voluntarily.
But you couldn’t create one. Like the vertigo he’d told her about, it either happened or it didn’t.
He was facing an unexpected development, however—a small thing, compared to Mika’s challenge, but how on earth was he going to cope with losing that backpack? The clothing and toiletries didn’t matter but he’d lost his wallet, passport and phone. It would be easy enough to place a call from a public telephone to request help but, even if his grandmother said nothing, he would hear the subtext of ‘I told you so’. Going incognito to be a nobody in the real world was not something a prince should do. It wasn’t who he was.
Failure wasn’t an option. He just needed to come up with a new plan. Maybe he’d find inspiration by the time this walk was over.
The sigh he blocked after a few minutes of nothing remotely inspirational occurring seemed to transfer itself to Mika, as she pulled her hand from his.
‘I’m okay now.’
He’d been so lost in his thoughts that Raoul hadn’t noticed how the track had changed. They weren’t on a cliff edge any more. The path had widened and there were trees on either side.
A glance at Mika and the change he saw in her appearance was startling. She was still pale but the tension in her face and the panic in her eyes had gone. And, if that hadn’t made her look different enough, her mouthed curved into a grin that he could only describe as cheeky.
‘Stupid, huh?’
It was impossible not to grin back.
‘Not at all. Like I said, it can happen to anybody.’
‘It’s like a switch has been flicked off. Now that I can’t see the cliff, I’m fine.’ She ducked her head and when she looked up again there was something soft in her eyes. Something that made Raoul feel a flush of warmth like the tingle you got when you held cold hands out to a fire.
‘Thank you so much. I... I think you might have saved my life.’
‘It was my pleasure.’ The words were quiet but he meant every one of them. Oddly, he needed to clear his throat after he’d uttered them. ‘Let’s
