sand beaches.
Frangipani and bougainvillea bloomed in profusion, perfuming the air with their sweet spice. Lush stands of olive and cypress covered the rugged mountains that rose majestically against a cloudless sky.
This was old world. Life moved at a slower pace here. The people openly adored their King and Queen. Already they regarded Demetria with open affection.
Her future had loomed as a fairy tale to her when she was young, with the paparazzi snapping photos of her and the handsome Crown Prince on their yearly “date.” But now she knew better.
Crown Prince Gregor had only given her a sad smile when she’d brought her worries up to him. “Royalty must marry for duty, not love. That is the way it has always been. I’ll be kind to you. All I demand in return is your fidelity until you have given me heirs.”
The fact that he still treated her like a child hurt, but not nearly as badly as the cold fate that awaited her. She was to be the virgin bride to a man who didn’t even desire her.
Lost in that troubled thought, she left the pristine private beach for the wild lands bordering the royal palace. She walked until the sounds coming from the bustling seaport faded into obscurity. She walked until the palace was no more than a speck in the distance, until the only sound was the wild crash of waves against the rocky shore.
On a slim, deserted stretch of beach littered with driftwood and seaweed she crawled onto a jutting slab of rock and stared out to sea. Life was not fair!
She’d known the Crown Prince for a decade but he was still a stranger to her. After this last visit she held little hope that she’d ever become close with her future husband.
Gregor, ten years older than she, was stoic in the extreme. She’d yet to enjoy her time alone with him. They had nothing in common, which made for very stilted conversations. He’d never even given her more than a perfunctory kiss, and she was sure he’d done that just for show!
There was no romance between them. No passion.
No love.
“What are you doing here?” a man asked, startling her with his closeness.
She shielded her eyes and stared down at the stranger, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her. He in turn stared back at her as if he’d never seen her before.
Either a local or a tourist. She decided on the latter, since he was unaware of her identity.
She took a breath and gave the man a closer study. He wore low-slung shorts and sandals, and a knowing smile that took her breath away.
Without a doubt he was the most handsome man she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. The wind had tousled his wealth of black hair and the sun had turned his tall, muscular body a rich bronze.
And his dark eyes…They glowed with a mesmerizing combination of amusement and desire. All directed at her!
“Well?” he asked when she continued to gape.
“I’m enjoying the view as well as the peace and quiet,” she said, and hoped that the turmoil of emotions churning within her weren’t written on her face, that he couldn’t tell her heart was racing and her insides were tied in knots. “What about you? Why are you here?”
He pointed at the beach, where his footprints remained in the sand. “I’ve been inspecting the nesting grounds of chelonia mydas. Green sea turtles.”
“You’re a conservationist?” she asked.
This time his devilish smile was brief. “This beach is closed to locals and tourists. You should leave.”
Yes, she should—but not for the reason he cited. This handsome man who embodied the sand and the surf and all things wild was a danger to her senses, for already he was making her feel things she’d only read about. Dreamt of one day having with her husband. And this dark-haired stranger hadn’t even touched her, yet alone kissed her!
Kissed her? Heat flooded her face at the wicked thought.
Yes, she should leave. Put as much distance as possible between her and this charismatic man.
Instead she heard herself say, “Tell me more about your work here.”
“It is—”
He broke off at the odd sound of thrashing in the water. His gaze jerked toward the sea and he muttered an oath.
Before she could register what had changed his mood, he’d vaulted onto the slab of rock beside her, sitting so close she felt the heat of his powerful length brand her, so close each breath she managed to drag in brought his unique scent of the wild sea deep into her lungs.
“No,” she said when he wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her against him. “Let me go!”
But the last words almost never left her, because he’d clamped his hand over her mouth. Her pulse raced like the wind, for she was no match for the steely strength she felt in him.
Helpless in a man’s hold again.
Before full-blown panic overtook her, he whispered in her ear, “Don’t make a sound or you’ll startle them.”
She tore her gaze from his intense one and looked to the sea. Emerging from the surf were lumbering sea turtles, all moving in a mass up the beach as if they were certain of their destination.
They were simply magnificent to watch. The tension gripping her eased and she relaxed against his warm, muscular chest, awed to see this slice of nature up close. Hands that had pushed against him slipped around his torso now, holding him tight as he held her.
And that was how they stayed for an hour or more, arms entwined and bodies pressed together. Two people lucky enough to witness an amazing tableau.
When the last turtle had laid her eggs and returned to the sea, she looked up at the man she clung to and smiled. “That was the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.”
He flashed his devilish smile and stroked his fingers along her cheek, the feather-like touch sending ripples of sensual awareness crashing through her. “I’ve never enjoyed it more than at this moment, agapi mou. You made this special.”
The endearment melted her heart, but the passion kindled from his nearness left her trembling for more. This was new. Powerful. Addictive.
A part of her brain registered that what she was feeling and wanting was wrong, that being here in this handsome stranger’s arms could only lead to heartache.
But she couldn’t find the strength to pull away.
Her body naturally bowed into his, her face lifting in silent entreaty. “I hate for it to end.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
If she’d had a protest it was silenced when his mouth swooped down onto hers, commanding, and brimming with all the desire her lonely heart ached for. She clung to him as he pushed her back onto the rock, soon lost in drinking from his kisses like one delirious with thirst.
The rock was hard and hot beneath her, but
