sighed. “I don’t think I’m going to want it back—it looks so much better on you than it ever did on me.”
Molly knew that couldn’t be true—she’d never seen her cousin look anything less than stunning—but she appreciated the compliment.
Fiona settled back on the bed and they chatted casually while Molly finished getting ready. She didn’t know if they would be dining inside or out and she didn’t want her hair tangling around her face if it was windy, so she fashioned a quick French twist and secured it with a handful of pins.
“Does it work?” she asked, turning to her cousin for approval.
“It works,” Fiona agreed. “In fact, it looks fabulous.”
“And you look a little underdressed,” she suddenly realized.
Fiona looked down at the cover-up she wore over her bikini and smiled as she slid off the bed, already making her way toward the door. “Actually, I’m dressed exactly right for a romantic picnic on the beach.”
“We’re having a picnic on the beach?”
Her cousin shook her head. “Scott and I are having a picnic. You’re going out for dinner with Eric.”
“Fiona…”
It was all she managed before her cousin slipped out the door, closing it firmly between them.
Molly stared at the back of the door for a long minute, considering her options. She knew she’d been set up and even knowing her cousin had the best of intentions, she didn’t appreciate it. She was tempted to refuse to go out, just to prove that she wouldn’t be manipulated, but that seemed both petty and spiteful and she wasn’t, as a rule, either of those things. At the moment, however, she was apprehensive about spending time with Eric.
Her nervousness escalated when she left her room and found him waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.
She felt her cheeks flush as his gaze skimmed over her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and everywhere in between. She trailed a hand down the smoothly polished banister, grateful for its solid support as she descended toward him. When she neared the bottom step, he offered her his hand, and she took it.
“You look…incredible.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Then she curtsied, because it seemed appropriate. “You look quite like Prince Charming yourself.”
“Prince Charming, huh? That’s quite a reputation to live up to.”
“I have no doubt you’ll manage.”
He smiled, and the slow, sensual curve of his lips made her pulse leap.
She knew how those lips tasted—their tangy masculine flavor. And she knew how they felt—nibbling her throat, nuzzling her breasts, skimming over her heated skin. Talk about heat—just the memories of the night they’d spent together had her temperature climbing toward the roof.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, leading her to the door beyond which he promised, “Your chariot awaits.”
Her chariot was actually a sleek and sexy sports car unlike anything she had ever seen before.
“It’s a Saleen S7 Twin Turbo,” he told her, as if that was supposed to mean anything to a woman who drove a perfectly nice but unexceptional Saturn. “It has a seven-hundred-and-fifty horsepower V8 engine and can go from zero to sixty in less than three seconds.”
“We’re not going to do that, are we?” she asked, more than a little apprehensively.
He chuckled. “No. And it’s not actually mine—it belongs to my brother Marcus. He was always into fast cars and fast women—before he met Jewel, anyway. Besides being an attention-getter, it’s a heck of a lot of fun to drive.”
And it was, she found, fun to ride in.
Maybe he didn’t take it from zero to sixty in less than three seconds, but he did go fast, zipping through the streets such that everything was a blur through the window.
He drove into the town of Port Augustine, a seaside village bustling with tourists and commerce. As he navigated his way through the city streets, he proved to be a fabulous tour guide, knowledgeable about the island’s history and geography.
He parked in a public lot, but it was only when he donned the baseball cap and mirrored sunglasses that she remembered he was a prince and that this was his country and the disguise—lame though it was—was probably necessary if he didn’t want to be recognized.
“Ashamed to be seen with me?” she asked, only half joking. Because while she was confident that she looked her best in her borrowed dress, she didn’t doubt that a prince was used to escorting much more beautiful and glamorous women than she would ever be.
“On the contrary,” he said. “I am always pleased to have the company of a gorgeous woman. But if you are seen with me, I’m afraid you may be hounded by the local paparazzi for the rest of your stay in Tesoro del Mar.”
“So the disguise is for my benefit?” she asked skeptically.
“And mine,” he admitted. “Because I don’t want to share a single minute of the time we have together with anyone else.”
“If you wanted to blend in, you might have chosen a less conspicuous vehicle,” she pointed out.
“But I wanted to impress you, too.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Do I look like an American tourist?” he asked her now.
She noted the Texas Rangers logo on the cap and figured it had been a gift from Scott—or perhaps he’d just borrowed it from his friend. But if his intention was to blend in, she didn’t think he would ever manage that. Even with the hat pushed down over his thick, dark hair and those deep, compelling eyes covered with the reflective lenses, he wasn’t a man who could walk around without attracting attention. He was too tall, too compelling and far too sexy for Molly’s peace of mind. Not that she intended to admit any of those thoughts to the prince.
“Maybe from a distance,” she said. “And only so long as you don’t say anything, because no one hearing you speak would ever mistake you for a Texan.”
“I’ll let you do all the talking,” he promised, slinging a companionable arm across her shoulders.
“My high school Spanish is more than a little rusty,” she warned.
“Everyone here speaks English. Though Tesoro del Mar is officially a bilingual country—with Spanish and French as its two official languages—English is just as common and is taught in all of the schools.”
He was proud of his homeland, she could hear it in his voice when he talked about the country and its people. He was a man who would have felt it was an honor and a privilege
