As she had aboard theIbrahim, she watched the stars above, her back to him, her skin pale and shining, the swatch of dark, thick, water-resistant fabric stretching across the toned cheeks of her derriere, held in place by perfect ribbons tied at either side of her hips.
If there was a part of him that was forever young, it was the part that rose up to whisper to him how easy it would be to pull one of those strings, to free the gallant cloth from its tremendous burden of covering her creamy curved behind.
“You didn’t say the pool was heated,” she said on a moan, breaking into his prurient thoughts.
Nothing about her demeanor indicated that she had become aware of his reentrance, yet she knew he was there.
Smiling, he answered, “It didn’t seem important to you either way.”
Turning around with a smile, she froze him in place with a look. “I was willing when it was cold water. I am compelled now that I know it is warm. I am never leaving.” She drew her words out like a purr and he felt himself stir, even as something in him cautioned that he had tested her far enough tonight.
Ignoring the voice, he smiled, his mouth and tongue working, though his mind was still mildly stunned by the sight of her breasts pushing against the small triangles of fabric, as determined in their effort to press the bounds, it seemed, as their owner. It was her smile, though, unguarded and bright, transporting him to times before he’d learned the world was hard—times he thought he’d long ago forgotten—that truly held him in place. “I’ll have to keep that preference in mind,” he muttered, trying but unable to shake off her glamour.
He wasn’t sure how it happened, but she made him laugh. Regularly. Not the laugh he was in control of—his father’s loud, booming, carefree laugh that he’d mimicked his whole life—but the genuine amusement of a man.
“Why do you call it Yancy Grove?” she asked.
The answer was as easy as it was painful. “We named it for our friend who didn’t make it back from its discovery.”
The frown that furrowed Helene’s face, shadowing her eyes in the process, was one of understanding. “I’m sorry.”
Drake shook off the sympathy. “It was a long time ago. Yance, Malik and I graduated from the naval academy and entered the king’s navy the same year. It was Prince Malik’s first command. We were outgunned by a human trafficker and Yance was hit and we were boarded.”
Helene’s eyes widened. “You lost the ship?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. We were boarded. We fought them off, but Prince Malik was nearly killed and ended the battle unconscious. I led the retreat. The luck of the sea was with us that day, but even though we discovered the island, we lost Yancy. We buried him in the fort’s courtyard grove and named the island in his honor.”
Moving quietly through the water, she came to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” The blue of her eyes, as tempestuous as the ocean, was deep and serious, and he was once again reminded that a soldier hid beneath the pretty mask.
Not just a soldier. A commander. Someone who could understand this particular pain. The kind that gnawed and ate at you from the inside, clawing to get out but too tender for the light.
“I miss him still,” he said. “But that was a long time ago. Long before duty called Malik back to the capital and I retired.”
“You mentioned he was a prince?”
He smiled, a teasing glint coming to his eyes. “Helene, are you angling for an introduction?”
Her snort in response was the furthest thing from being blue-blooded he could imagine, and yet, coming from her, the noise was upper-crust. “Spare me. I just wanted to make sure I got it right and you were talking about hobnobbing with Prince Malik of Sidra.”
“More fishing with every word...”
She splashed him again until he raised his palms. “Yes. Prince Malik. Though we only call him that when he’s being particularly pretentious.”
Helene smiled again, the real one she’d graced him with before—the one that stopped him in his tracks. “It can be so trying to pal around with royalty.”
This time Drake snorted. “You must know from experience, niece and cousin to kings, as you are.”
She didn’t bother to deny it. “Where else would I come off making a statement like that?”
“Odd sentiment for a royal guard.”
Rising to on her back, she let her long body bob in the water while she stared at the stars above. As mesmerized as she appeared by the heavens, he, too, could not seem to take his attention from her. “Not all royalty is created equally,” she said. “Zayn, the cousin you mentioned, is as insufferable as you might imagine—intelligent, handsome, excellent at everything—but Mina is different. She was born common, didn’t even know she was going to be wed to the king until the day of their wedding.”
“A similar story to your own near-engagement,” Drake observed, earning a splash from her foot.
“Before becoming queen she was a scientist,” she continued.
He was surprised despite himself. “An usual occupation for a future monarch.”