Chapter 5
After hours of belaying the heir to the throne who pushed his limits hard, Erica wanted to crawl into her tent and go to sleep, but Raul was on a high from his day of climbing. He couldn’t stop talking about it.
It didn’t help that Dario had brought a jar of Puerto Rican moonshine in his pack, making cocktails out of sports drinks and pitorro rum.
He dubbed the mixture Climber’s Cocktail, and it tasted so awful that she nearly spit hers out.
But once she swallowed, the highly alcoholic rum spread a warmth through her veins that began to ease the tension of her heavy responsibility.
Neither of the bodyguards drank the alcohol, of course. Ever since she had found that damned abandoned campsite, Dario and Pascal had been on high alert, constantly patrolling around the prince. Which meant that Erica had to take on being his social companion, a role she enjoyed far too much.
“You find campsites with the best views,” Raul said, settling on the ground with his back against a boulder, his second cup of Climber’s Cocktail in his hand.
He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles.
His thigh and calf muscles created swells and valleys in the fabric of his trousers that made her want to run her palms over them.
She closed her eyes to quell her reaction. She had been staring at his body all afternoon as he stretched and flexed and strained above her, so how was she not supposed to notice what a tight butt and sculpted shoulders he had?
“Why camp in the mountains if you’re not going to get a vista?” She opened her eyes and sat on a flat rock a couple of feet away from him. She took in the line of steep volcanic peaks sweeping away in front of them. The sinking sun’s light brushed the very tips with deep gold.
“You have to know where to find them, though.” Raul pivoted his legs so he was turned partway toward her. “Is this where you and your father used to come?”
“One of the places.” It was the rock face where he had taught her to climb. “My favorite one because of the scenery.”
Her father had been more about the challenges than the aesthetics of their trips, but even he had admitted this was a beautiful place.
“I understand why you love this.” He swept his cup around the horizon, sloshing some of his drink over the rim. “I can’t wait to climb again tomorrow.”
Her muscles tightened at the thought of sweating through another day of keeping the prince safe.
When she had been assigned this job, she hadn’t realized how stressful it would be to hold the rope he was dangling from.
Even with Dario as backup, she flinched every time Raul fell.
Not that it wasn’t perfectly normal for a climber to do so, but she was responsible for returning him to the palace uninjured.
He, of course, wanted to try more difficult climbs every time.
“You can do the last two routes here tomorrow morning,” she said. “Then we’ll move to a different cliff for the afternoon.”
Raul took another sip of his drink and tilted his head back against the boulder to gaze up at the gold-and-pink-splashed sky. “I’m glad I came.”
A thrill of satisfaction ran through her. She had made Raul happy, even though he hadn’t wanted to come on this trip. She took a celebratory swig of cocktail and coughed.
“This stuff has a powerful kick,” Raul said with a nod. “I think I’m a little drunk.”
“As long as you don’t have a hangover tomorrow, that might be a good thing. It will relax your muscles so you aren’t as sore in the morning,” she said.
“Relaxed, yes! That was the purpose of this expedition.” Raul lifted his cup in a toast. “We have accomplished our goal.”
There was an undercurrent in his words that she couldn’t interpret. “I think that might be a contradiction,” she said. “Striving for the goal of relaxation doesn’t sound restful.”
“When you’ve forgotten how to have fun, you have to work at it.” Raul frowned into his cup. “I’m good at working.”
He was clearly drunk.
“You’re good at climbing too,” Erica said. “Which means you’re good at fun.” Her logic might not be quite right, because she was also a bit tipsy, but she wanted to wipe away his frown.
He sighed. “I used to be a professional at having a good time. Gabriel and I knew every dive bar within a ten-mile radius of Castillo Draconago. Sometimes we’d ride our horses to a bar, get roaring drunk, and barely be able to stay in the saddle on our way home.
In fact, we both fell off a few times, but we were so relaxed that we didn’t break anything.
” Raul’s smile of reminiscence softened the angles of his face.
According to the paparazzi photos, he had also dated a lot of beautiful women, escorting them on various red carpets, frolicking on yachts, cheering at sports championships, and displaying them on a variety of other occasions. She scowled at the view.
He looked devastatingly handsome in a tuxedo, although the pictures of him in a bathing suit that showed off the carved muscles of his bare chest and abs weren’t bad either. Especially the ones that displayed the dragon tattoo curling up his rib cage. Funny that she was remembering that now.
“There are quite a few dive bars around the military base,” she said to get her mind off his abs. “Although I never rode my horse to any of them, mostly because I don’t have a horse.”
“Good reason.” Raul’s smile vanished. “Gabri and I should have stuck to the bars here. Or ridden horses in Barcelona.”
“Horses in Barcelona?” Then it hit her. That was where Gabriel had been kidnapped. Mierda! She should have kept her mouth shut.
“The last time we had fun together,” Raul said, his face like granite.
Change the subject! “You must be very happy about his wedding.”
“Quinn saved him,” Raul said before he took a gulp of his cocktail. “I threw him to the wolves.”
She didn’t comment because she had no idea what to say to that.
“The fucking kidnappers wanted me,” Raul said. “But Gabri told them he was the prince. And I let him because the prince has a duty to Caleva to hold himself back from danger. I kept my mouth shut while they dragged him into a van and took him away to cut off his ear.”
Everyone in Caleva knew the story of Gabriel’s kidnapping, but not the details. Not this terrible revelation.
“I—you didn’t know they would cut off his ear,” she offered in cold comfort. “The kidnappers are to blame, not you.”
He turned a bleak gaze to her. “He stopped playing the guitar because he thought he couldn’t hear the music correctly any longer. Hostia, at one point, I was afraid he would commit suicide.”
She shouldn’t be hearing this. He would regret telling her in the morning, when he was sober. But while her heart broke for him, she was also flattered that he would trust her with his secret.
“But he didn’t, and now he’s marrying the love of his life,” she said.
Such an outwardly mismatched couple, Quinn and Gabriel, yet it was clear they adored each other.
You could almost bask in the warmth of their love when they were together.
“He’s also playing his guitar all over the world, not to mention starting DragonFest, which is a huge success. ”
“That was Quinn’s idea,” Raul said. “The music festival. How could I not see what a perfect job that would be for Gabri?”
She leaned across the space between them and put her hand on his forearm. “You’re not responsible for your cousin’s happiness. We all have to find our own.”
His muscles flexed under the light fabric of his shirt, and she jerked her hand back. It was borderline all right to touch the prince when checking his equipment, but not at all appropriate when attempting to comfort him.
“I feel responsible.” He glanced at his arm and then at her. “Because of his sacrifice.”
“That’s a lot of weight to carry.” No wonder Raul had forgotten how to have fun. He was neck-deep in guilt. “Gabriel is in a good place now. He wouldn’t want you to torture yourself about him.”
So many platitudes, but sometimes they were true.
“I tell myself that. Carajo! Gabri has told me that.” He looked at her, his face taut with anguish. “But I can’t forget that I let it happen.”
Her heart twisted. How could she help him? She knew nothing about the pressures of being heir to the throne. Wait…that was it.
“You’re forgetting something important,” she said slowly as she thought it through.
“You even said it yourself. You had a duty as the prince, and Gabriel had a duty to the prince. He didn’t put himself at risk for your sake.
He did it for el Principe de los Lirios , the Crown Prince of Caleva.
He would have done the same thing for me if I were the princess.
It’s your position he made the sacrifice for. ”
“So somehow only the prince should feel guilty? I am the prince.” His tone was almost angry. “Do you know a way to separate myself from myself?”
“Don’t they teach you that in prince school? I feel like it should be required.” She slapped her hand over her wayward mouth. Damn pitorro rum.
“Prince school? Enrollment of one?” He grimaced and shook his head. “My father has taught me a lot of things, but I don’t think even he knows how to do that.”
“Have you ever asked him?” She was going to get herself in trouble, but he was in so much pain, and she wanted to ease it. “He must have some helpful hints.”
Raul blew out a breath. “He’s the king through and through. No attempts at separation.”
“What about when he’s being your papa? Isn’t he different then?”
“Don’t get me wrong. He’s an amazing father, but sometimes there’s a blurred line between parent and king. When he ordered me to take this vacation, I wasn’t sure if he was doing it as my father or as my boss.”
Erica recalled her meeting with the queen that she wasn’t allowed to mention. “He had to be worried about your, er, incident at the medal ceremony as a parent first and foremost.” Joder, she shouldn’t have rubbed salt in that wound.
Raul winced. “May I ask you a favor?”
“Stop talking?”
He bit off a short laugh. “No. Would you put your hand on my arm again? It felt good to be connected. Like belaying.”
“I—what?” She didn’t know what to do, but her body did. A ripple of heat surged through her at the thought of his warm, hard muscles under her palm.
“You didn’t feel the connection today?” He sounded disappointed.
“I did. You knew exactly when I needed help to find the next hold. You could tell when I should shift my foot a few inches to the right or left. The rope always had the perfect tension or slack.” He touched his temple.
“It was like you were in my head. We were attuned to each other.”
Every ounce of her focus had been on his body, checking his position, reading his physical cues, sensing when he was hesitant and when he was confident. Admiring the way his muscles shifted under his shirt and trousers.
Attuned was one word for it. “That means we’re a good team as climber and belayer.”
“So it’s not like that with every climber you’ve belayed?”
“No. You and I had a strong line of communication,” she said. “That doesn’t happen often, especially not the first time you work together.”
There was enough light left to see the flash of his smile. “That’s what I thought.”
Did he still want her to hold his arm? Because she had a fierce yearning to cross the space between them and lean against his side.
What the hell? They could both blame it on the rum.
She scooted across the hard dirt to loop her arm around his at the elbow. “Now we’re connected again.”
He turned his head toward her, and she saw something hot flicker in his eyes. He shifted so their hips and thighs brushed. “Without a rope.”
It was the alcohol that set her skin on fire, not Raul’s body heat seeping through the thin layers of fabric between them.
He’s the Crown Prince of Caleva. Way, way above her pay grade. But the air around him seemed to vibrate with his magnetism. She wanted to bathe in it.
“It’s nice to be touched,” he said, his words slightly slurred. “People don’t do that much when you’re a prince.”
“I never thought about that. I guess people are afraid to.” No wonder he was so sad. Everyone needed a hug now and then.
“But you are brave.” Raul pulled her closer so she was leaning against his side. “That’s better. Warmer.”
No, hotter . Now they were touching from shoulder to knee. Every time Raul lifted his cup to his mouth, the movement created a delicious friction between their bodies.
Raul fell silent, and she was too tired to prod him into conversation. It was so nice to savor the feel of him against her, close enough that she could hear his breathing and smell the campfire smoke that had soaked into his jacket.
“Erica.” Someone was shaking her shoulder, but she was very comfortable where she was. She turned her face into the firm pillow and…
“Erica! We should go to bed.” A husky male voice sounded so close to her ear that she felt the words as air brushing over her skin.
She knew that voice. It was—she jerked upright. Holy shit, she had fallen asleep on Prince Raul’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” She scrambled to her feet, the lingering effects of the rum evaporated by her panic. “My deepest apologies, Senor. ”
Raul hauled himself up by leaning on the boulder.
“For what? Falling asleep? I did too.” He set his cup down and stretched, the hem of his shirt riding up so she caught a glimpse of bare skin and carved abdominal muscles.
She started to turn away, but he put a hand on her shoulder.
“Erica, you have nothing to apologize for. I liked having you there.”
She looked up into his face, flickering in and out of darkness in the dying firelight, and caught her breath. His gaze was intense, and she felt ensnared in it for a long moment. Then he heaved a sigh and dropped his hand. “ Buenas noches. Let’s hope we don’t have hangovers in the morning.”
She could still feel the weight of his hand burning like a brand into her skin as he waved her toward her tent. “Drink some wa—”
“I know!” He stopped her with a turned-out palm. “Hydrate!”