Kitabı oku: «The Royal Weddings»

Chapter 1

His lips were hot. His tongue licking against hers like flames raging and spurting with energy. Samantha DeSaunters moved her head slightly and he went deeper, his strong hands covering the skin left bare by the low cut of her dress. She felt like she was falling. No, he was tilting her back, leaning into the kiss with as much fervor and...dare she say, desire, as she had felt bubbling up from the pit of her belly.

The world around her ceased to exist as he nibbled on her bottom lip, just long enough for her to catch a breath before he delved deep once more. Her lipstick was done. Her hair, the careful topple of curls that had taken her maid Lucie an hour to arrange, was going to be a complete disaster. And she was certain—as was part of her ingenious plan—that everyone was staring at them.

Well, she hadn’t actually wanted everyone to see. Just Morty Javis and his persistent and unwelcomed advances.

She still wasn’t one hundred percent certain that doing what she had done was the best idea. Especially considering all eyes in Grand Serenity and a few of the neighboring islands were on her and the entire DeSaunters family right now. That’s what happened when there were several attempts on the lives of the royal family, one of which was an explosion at the palace six weeks ago. The act of terror had injured sixteen people who had been innocently attending the annual Ambassador’s Ball.

He was taking a step back now, his lips still on hers as he brought them both to an upright position. He pulled away slowly. So slowly Sam felt like she might have actually been following him to keep the contact going. When she opened her eyes, she found him already staring at her.

Dark brown eyes, bushy brows and slightly parted lips of medium thickness really had her thinking about going in for a second kiss. She didn’t. It was time to get her thoughts in line, if not her traitorous body, which wanted to stay right there in this man’s arms enjoying more of his kisses and possibly whatever else he had to offer. But acting on that thought would end up embarrassing them both.

Instead she flattened her palms against the lapels of his suit jacket and prepared to step away. He held her firmly, halting her exit plan.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice low, a tentative smile in place.

He didn’t even blink but instead asked, “Is that what you normally say after kissing a complete stranger?”

“I—” she started to reply when Morty tapped him on the shoulder.

“Do you know who you’ve just accosted? I’ve taken the liberty of calling the palace guards, Your Highness,” Morty spat.

“This is Princess Samantha DeSaunters. Her father will certainly have you jailed for daring to put your hands on her in such a familiar way, especially in this public forum.”

Morty continued to talk as he reached for Sam’s arm. That’s when things shifted.

The man’s hand clenched Morty’s wrist only seconds before his fingers could touch Sam’s bare skin. The glare he gave was serious and intimidating as hell. Even Sam’s heart skipped a beat at the intensity transmitted through a simple gaze.

“I’ll take good care of the princess,” he said, his voice deep and raspy.

“Guards!” Morty yelled.

Three guards appeared at that moment and everyone in the room that had not already been staring at them was definitely on alert now.

“Wait a minute...” Sam started to say. “I can explain.”

“There is no need, Your Highness,” Morty told her.

The man kept his hold on her, even when the guards approached. Sam was definitely concerned now. After the explosion, her father and brothers had been adamant about increasing the palace security. She, thankfully, had been left out of most of those meetings.

It wasn’t for lack of concern, her brother Kris had told her. As Grand Serenity’s goodwill ambassador, it was imperative that she have a genuine smile and authentic enthusiasm for their island and the royal family at all times. If she were privy to all the safety issues and precautions, they feared she might not be as inviting to tourists or as engaging with the press. Without tourists, Grand Serenity’s economy would suffer.

Was she offended by their logic? No, because she didn’t have time to be. This was not only her job, but her life, and Sam took both very seriously.

So what the hell had she been thinking by walking up to this guy—regardless of how ruggedly handsome he was—and kissing him in front of everyone attending the Caribbean Counsel dinner? Her gears were already switching toward damage control.

Her smile came quickly, naturally, as she touched the guy’s arm and laughed jovially.

“Don’t be silly, Morty. There’s no need for the guards, especially since they already know—”

She’d intended to say his name then say something to the effect of him being an old friend, but she hadn’t had the chance to learn that detail about him quite yet.

“No, darling, they don’t know yet. Remember we decided to keep this our little secret,” he interrupted.

The guards stood a couple feet away, each making eye contact with him but not coming any farther.

He didn’t smile, but he did pull her closer to him.

Sam kept her smile intact, no matter how many questions were suddenly soaring through her mind.

“I would like to know what is going on,” Morty stated, his shoulders squared, dark eyes zooming in on her.

“It’s simple,” the guy answered for her yet again. “Long-distance relationships suck. Which is why we’ve decided to stop hiding. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“That’s...absolutely right...dear,” Sam managed to reply.

When he’d pulled her close she’d slipped an arm around his waist, her other hand flat against his chest. She leaned her head in closer as she realized they were definitely the center of attention and, just as she smiled brighter, a camera flashed. Then another and another and, before she knew what was happening, guests were clapping, the guards had disappeared and Morty looked like a cartoon character about to explode with fury.

If someone had told Gary Montgomery a year ago, or hell, even an hour ago, that he’d be in a delicious lip-lock with the princess of Grand Serenity Island, he would have called them a bold-faced liar.

Now, half an hour after the kiss, when his body was still simmering with need and his hand was still firmly on her hip, he told himself he’d done what he’d had to do. There had been no other choice. It was for the job. Yes, definitely for the sake of the job and nothing more.

“Darling Samantha, I am so excited for you,” a woman Gary had earlier identified as Jacqueline Mahair, spoke enthusiastically.

Prime Minister Obari Mahair ruled a much smaller island south of the Bahamas. He was a seventy-five-year-old man with a protruding stomach and wiry gray hair. His wife was much more glamorous with her large, expressive eyes; plump, glossy-red-coated lips; and waist-length blond curls. The professional boob and butt job, however, was not so cleverly masked in a black dress that hugged her like a second skin. But her assets weren’t nearly as loud a statement as Jacqueline’s high-pitched, twenty-three-year-old voice with its distinct Southern twang.

“I, for one, would never have guessed you were hiding such a delectable hunk of hot chocolate from us all,” Jacqueline continued. “You have great taste in clothes and you’re a sly one.”

Jacqueline laughed as she stepped closer to Gary, her gaze fixated on him. It made him uncomfortable, but he knew it didn’t show. He was a trained sniper who could sit still for hours on end waiting on a target. Patience and deceit were two of his main traits.

“Thank you, Jacqueline,” Samantha said, her voice steady and controlled, as always. “I am so happy that you and Prime Minister Mahair could join us this evening. It is important for the counsel to remain united in sharing our culture with the world.”

She was back. It had only taken her a few seconds to adjust. Gary admired that about her. Princess Samantha DeSaunters was not easily ruffled. In the months he’d been on Grand Serenity, Gary had watched Princess Samantha carefully. The fact that she was, hands down, the sexiest woman he’d ever seen had nothing to do with that. It was his job and Gary always did his job.

“Well, you know, I finally talked Obari into letting me open my own restaurant on the island. It’s totally Southern. I even stole my daddy’s cook to come down here and show those stuffy guys with all their international degrees how to properly prepare a good Southern meal. You look like a man who was brought up on good, old-fashioned soul food, weren’t you? What’s your name and where are you from? I already know you’re American. They just don’t make ’em like this anywhere else in the world.”

Jacqueline then looked Gary up and down, moving one step closer to him as she ran her long, hot-pink-polished nails down his arm.

“I’m Gary and I’m from Cambridge, Maryland,” he replied.

“I’m sure visitors to your island will enjoy the offering of an American-inspired restaurant,” Samantha interjected. “If you’ll excuse us, Gary and I should speak with my father and his fiancée before they retire for the evening.”

Her smile had been brighter than Jacqueline’s, much more targeted and laced with the polite and undeniable punch she’d intended.

Seconds later Samantha was guiding them easily away from the prime minister’s daring wife. They moved across the room, still encountering smiles and well-meaning nods from guests. There were dignitaries in attendance and members of the Caribbean Counsel, which was an organization of the ruling parties of a majority of the Caribbean islands. It was formed five years ago by the youngest member of the counsel, Samantha DeSaunters.

Gary had a feeling she wanted them to find a spot alone to talk—or to regroup may have been more like it. His announcement had thrown her off, even if for just a moment. However, she would never show it. Samantha was the epitome of refinement and never failed to control any situation she found herself in. He’d discovered that about her in the last few weeks. It was an enviable trait and one he thought she’d been thrust into cultivating.

Through his many conversations with Kris, Gary had learned that Samantha had been only five years old when their mother died. From that moment on she was, for all intents and purposes, the princess of Grand Serenity Island. It was a duty she’d honed and embraced for the next twenty years. Yet, in just four months, she would relinquish the bulk of her responsibilities to Malayka Sampson, the woman who was engaged to marry the reigning prince of Grand Serenity, Rafferty DeSaunters.

“Well, the couple of the hour,” Kris said quietly as he fell into step easily on Samantha’s other side.

They were careful to keep their conversation low and their facial expressions jovial. Masks, Gary thought. The royal family was very good at wearing masks. He knew a little about that himself, so he didn’t judge.

“Had to think of something off the cuff,” Gary replied while being mindful of who was around them as they moved to the farthest end of the room.

This official dinner should’ve been held in one of the ballrooms on the northern end of the palace, but that area was under construction after the damage from the explosion. They were still in a very formal dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows; sparkling, gold chandeliers; and enough clinking crystal to cause Gary slight discomfort. He hated social gatherings. Always had.

“However, I think it will serve a bigger purpose,” he finished.

“It was my fault,” Samantha added. “I set it in motion because Morty was being an ass.”

She didn’t sound regretful, just annoyed. Gary wasn’t sure if her frustration was directed more to him and what he’d said as a follow-up to their kiss or toward herself for initiating the kiss in the first place.

“There’s going to be lots of talk about this in the morning. Dad’s understandably distressed. Landry tried to smooth it over, acting as if she knew about this secret affair. I’m not sure he’s buying that, though,” Kris continued, finishing just seconds before the three of them approached Prince Rafe; his fiancée, Malayka; and Landry.

Landry Norris was Kris’s wife, the newest princess of the island. Gary recalled a time when he’d suspected Landry of being involved with the bombing that had taken place at the palace. Landry had been hired as a stylist for Malayka Sampson and the two of them were the only guests that were not in the ballroom at the time of the bombing. Fortunately, Landry had been cleared of all suspicion.

Since then, on the few occasions Gary had visited Kris’s private office, he’d had the chance to talk with Landry. They were both American, which instantly gave them a lot to talk about. The fact that she’d actually worked closely with Malayka was a bonus. Especially since Kris and Roland, the younger prince, both suspected their soon-to-be stepmother was not everything she seemed.

“I expect you two have some explanations for me,” Rafe said immediately upon their approach. “However, since your little announcement has created such interest, I suggest we take this up tomorrow. In my office at ten.”

Rafe then leaned in to kiss Samantha on her cheek. He gave a curt nod to Kris and reluctantly, Gary thought, to him. Afterward the prince took his fiancée’s hand and led them across the room, where they began to extend their good-nights to the guests.

“He’s not at all happy with you at the moment, Gary,” Landry said when the four of them were alone. “I don’t think he was ready to see his only daughter caught up in such a heated embrace, or to hear that she’d been having a secret affair.”

“I wasn’t terribly comfortable seeing or hearing that myself,” Kris said as he moved to stand beside his wife.

Kris would one day take Prince Rafe’s place as the head of the royal family and ruler of Grand Serenity. He had been groomed for this role and possessed the same authoritative stance and temperament as his father. The past few weeks had also allowed Gary to make that comparison. When he’d first met Kris they were both just eighteen years old and freshmen in college.

“I needed to get Morty off my trail. I should have handled it better,” Samantha said.

She’d stepped away from him the moment they’d come close to Prince Rafe. The older monarch had been giving Gary a pretty lethal stare, and he’d had no intentions of keeping his hands on the man’s daughter. No matter how much he missed the feel of her standing near him.

“You never told me Morty was a problem,” Kris stated.

Samantha shook her head. Strands of her long hair—which Gary couldn’t remember whether or not had been loose before—moved softly over her shoulders with the motion. She wore a black, lacy-type dress that was just modest enough to hide her cleavage but still painfully sexy as it left all sorts of sexual thoughts to the imagination. Her heels were high, long legs alluring, and her eyes...that’s where it all came together. Well...and her mouth. That was it for him. Deep brown, expression-filled eyes and a wide and inviting mouth. Two things that, up until tonight, he’d been able to keep at a safe distance.

“It’s not an issue,” Samantha told her brother. “At least it won’t be anymore. I’ll take care of Morty and we’ll spin this—” She paused and looked over to Gary. “We’ll make this work to our advantage. I just need to see everyone off for the night and I’ll have a plan for damage control in the morning.”

She would, Gary thought, because that was her job. She was the face of Grand Serenity, the personality that drew in tourists as well as business opportunities. Everything she said and did resulted in a gain for the island because she wouldn’t have it any other way. So Gary had no doubt at all that she would come up with a way to make what had happened tonight work, not only for her personally but for their family. She had no choice.

As for him and the job he’d been hired to do, he would have to be an intricate part of her plan. Whether she liked it or not.