He grinned. “It wasn’t really a question. More an intrigued statement. I was surprised that you no longer think of me as an arrogant playboy. I guess I wanted to hear you say it again.”
She pressed her lips together as if unsure how to reply. After a few long seconds which he was determined not to interrupt, she smiled and stepped toward him, apparently having overcome her unsureness. “You, Xander, are needy. And no, I will not elaborate on that statement. You’ll have to make of it what you will.”
He grinned and shook his head in despair. The old Elaheh had just resurfaced. She was an enigma. One moment terrifying, the next as vulnerable as hell. In a flash he thought that in both states she was utterly mesmerizing. He turned away suddenly. What he needed was a good, long, cooling swim.
He sighed heavily and followed her out to the garden.
Elaheh was relievedto find that Xander was correct and the path to the beach was, indeed, short and totally private. The footpath gave way to a small, sheltered cove which was fringed by trees and protected from the city by a rocky promontory.
As soon as Xander set foot on the sand he tilted his head up to the sun, closed his eyes and sighed.
“That feels good,” he said. “Are you coming into the water?”
“No, thank you. I don’t like to swim. I’ll sit in the shade.”
He began to take off his clothes and Elaheh looked quickly away and walked toward some chairs and tables placed under the shade of large palm trees. Beside it a thatched bar stood, no doubt stocked with everything from the ubiquitous champagne to whatever else a royal might need to relax.
“Help yourself to a drink,” he called out.
She opened the drinks cooler, allowing the chill air to fan her heated skin for a few seconds before glancing over the top of the bar to where he was undressing. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. As he stripped off his shirt, she was aware of only one thing—the way his muscles bunched and stretched as he raised and lowered his arms. His dark skin gleamed with a slick of sweat which made her mouth water. The thought was alarming, but didn’t stop her from thinking about him. Sunshine and shadows highlighted the contours of his shoulders. She was glad he had his back turned to her. She could watch him unobserved. Standing in his swimming shorts she could admire his muscled legs—runner’s legs, she thought idly. Not that she’d ever seen any man’s legs before, running or walking. But if she had, she knew they’d be like that.
He ran into the sea and dived into the water. She could almost feel the chill of the water hitting his heated skin. She shivered as he swam strongly out into the sea. She watched until her eyes hurt and he was a dot in the distance.
With a sigh she closed the cooler and opened a can of soda. She’d hardly slept the previous night and suddenly felt exhausted. The tension which had kept her going all morning suddenly dissolved under the sound of the rhythmic roll and drag of the ocean on the sandy beach. She lay on the sun lounger, closed her eyes to the flicker of shadows created by the rattling fronds of the palm trees, and lost herself to dreams of Xander, as sleep crept over her like a soft, light comforter.
Xander looked downat Ela with a frown. She lay, fast asleep, on the sun lounger, sheltered from the sun by the dancing fronds of a palm tree. She looked peaceful in a way she never did when she was awake. She also looked young and intensely vulnerable. He hated that because he knew it brought out the best in him. And the best of him would make his life very difficult.
He reached for his towel and began to dry himself with his back to her. He didn’t want her to think he’d been looking at her. He plucked a bottle of soda water from the fridge and lay on a lounger next to her. The mid-morning sea breezes were picking up and the palm leaves were dipping and swaying above their heads. As he sipped his drink and gazed determinedly out to sea, and occasionally to Ela, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking and feeling a million things he’d never allowed himself to feel before.
By the time she awoke, and turned to look at him, the clouds of sleep still lingering in her eyes, he knew that he was doing more than look out for her—he was falling for her and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself out from under her spell.
“I’ve been asleep,” she said surprised, sitting up. “I never sleep during the day.”
“Maybe your sleep at night has been disturbed.”
“It always is. I’m simply a bad sleeper.”
“Not just then you weren’t,” he said, handing her a drink.
“It’s strange,” she said, her relaxed mood still prevailing. “There’s something about this place which makes me feel…” She frowned. “Calm and…”
“Safe,” he prompted. She turned to him and nodded.
“I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”
“That’s good.” He didn’t add that it made him feel good that he could protect her, that he could make her feel safe. He didn’t think she’d appreciate that knowledge. Not yet, anyway.
“Is it?” Her beautiful brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t I feel safe and calm in my own land?”
He nodded slowly. “You should, and you will. Once you’ve got this out the way.”
“Even before this I always felt… on guard.”
He remembered Shakira’s words. “Defensive.”
“Yes, I’ve had to be.”
Instinctively he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. She lifted her head sharply. “You don’t need to defend yourself against anyone here, or anyone in the future. I’ll make sure of that. There will be no one who will attack you.”