Chapter 11
Erica tried to ignore the wave of heat surging through her. “Let me grab the food.” She spun away from him and headed for the dining room.
The desserts were already arranged on a tray, along with a dish of chocolates.
She added forks, crystal flutes, and a bottle of Dom Perignon.
Probably the wrong champagne for the dessert, but she liked it and never bought such expensive bubbly for herself.
Just one more signal that she was in way over her head with Raul.
Padding across the Oriental carpet in the living room, she had a moment of disorientation and stopped to regain her mental balance.
She was in the most private wing of Castillo Draconago, carrying a tray of gourmet desserts and high-priced champagne to the bed of a prince whom she had just had insanely intense sex with.
Was she the luckiest woman in Caleva, or would she regret this in the morning?
Probably both.
He had already shared his secrets with her, and now he was sharing his body, a dangerous double seduction. This relationship had nowhere to go but a dead end, and she needed to remember that.
All her sensible resolutions evaporated when she got to the door of Raul’s bedroom. He lay propped on one elbow in the bed, the sheets pulled up to drape over his hips, gazing straight at her as though he wanted to devour her instead of the fancy brownies.
Heat ripped through her so fast that she nearly dropped the tray.
“If you keep looking at me like that, we’ll skip dessert again,” she said.
“You are dessert.” He ran his tongue over his lips, sending another flare of heat through her. “But let’s enjoy Marta’s delicacies first. After all, anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac.”
As if she needed an aphrodisiac with Raul’s body on display. She placed the tray on the bed with care. He took the champagne bottle and removed the metal cage before twisting the cork out with a low pop. Not a drop spilled as he poured the golden liquid into the glasses.
“You’ve done that a few times before,” Erica said, easing onto the bed with one knee bent under her as he handed her a flute.
“I learned it in prince school. Opening champagne bottles without spillage is a key lesson.” He touched his glass to hers. “To the sexiest, most fascinating woman I’ve ever met.”
He said it with such conviction that she almost believed him, but that way lay danger. She couldn’t let him seduce more than her body. She was treading too close to the line already.
“To the only prince I’ve ever met.” She felt guilty about her defensive flippancy when his smile dimmed. “And the most surprising one.”
“Surprising? How?”
“You gave me the best orgasm of my life. I figured you might just rely on your princely title when it came to sex.” She kept her gaze on him as she took a sip of champagne.
“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended,” he said, but the smile was back in full force.
“I’m being honest.”
He cupped her face with his free hand. “Never stop.” The stroke of his thumb across her cheekbone made her heart give that sharp little twist again.
“You’d have to tape my mouth shut to keep me from saying what I think.” She huffed out a laugh. “It’s not always a positive.”
“It is for me.” He raised his glass to her before taking a sip.
“There’s something I want to take a closer look at.
” He found the hem of the shirt she wore and lifted the cotton to expose her hip.
He leaned closer. “Aha, I thought I saw a tattoo. It’s an airplane…
tracing an infinity symbol?” He lifted his gaze to hers in a question.
“I got it when I was admitted to flight school,” she said, remembering her jubilation. “I was trying to express the way I feel when I’m flying. As though I could keep going forever without anything to stop me. Except running out of fuel, of course.” She grounded her flight of fancy.
“No limits.” He put down his glass so he could trace the dotted blue line of the infinity symbol.
His fingertip was cold from contact with the champagne bottle, and she gave a little shiver, even as she savored his touch.
“Sorry.” He leaned in to press his warm lips against the tattoo, making her shiver for a different reason, before he dropped the shirt again. He handed her a fork and grinned lasciviously. “Eat. I need you to keep up your strength for later.”
A ripple of heat ran through her as she plunged her fork into the chocolate confection on her plate and took a bite.
The brownie was richly chocolate with a chewy texture.
The chiffon was silky and light as air. The whipped cream had some unidentifiable flavor that lifted the whole dessert entirely out of the ordinary.
“Oh. My. God. If I hadn’t just had two incredible orgasms, I would say this is better than sex. ”
Raul laughed. “Thank you for having mercy on my ego.” He took a bite and made a show of evaluating the brownie. “ Delicioso , but not even close to tasting you.”
Gratification glowed through her even though she knew he was a charmer.
“If this question is too personal, don’t answer it, but your tattoo made me wonder,” Raul said as he cut another piece of dessert. “Your father loved the water. How did he feel that you chose the air?”
Her father had been appalled, mostly because she had chosen the wrong element for her career. Somehow, he believed she would overcome her fear of the sea.
“He wasn’t happy about it. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps,” she said before she threw caution to the wind and confessed her humiliating secret. “The truth is that I am terrified of the ocean. It drove him crazy.” The shame seared through her again. She hated being afraid of anything.
“Your fear seems understandable to me.”
“Really?” She looked up from her plate to find his attention on her face.
“The sea had the potential to kill him every time he went to work, so no wonder it scared you.”
“When you put it that way, it seems so logical.” She shook her head, amazed at this new perspective Raul had offered her.
Maybe her terror wasn’t so irrational after all.
Maybe she could stop feeling like a weakling.
“But he loved the water, so he couldn’t comprehend my fear.
” She took in a deep breath and blew it out again as she remembered the day his beloved ocean claimed her father’s life.
Her grief had been filled with fury at what felt like his abandonment.
“I’m sorry,” Raul said. “I’ve stirred up bad memories.”
“No, I’m used to it. My father was a hero to many.
People still want to talk to me about him.
It keeps him alive in a way.” She ventured deeper, trusting Raul to sympathize.
“Except they see him as a courageous rescuer who saved lives. To me, he was the dad who carried me on his shoulders, who took me camping…and whose approval I was always striving to win.” She was still angry with him for dying.
“I understand that. Having a father who is larger than life can be…difficult. You find yourself sharing him with total strangers.” Raul’s voice held nothing but compassion, yet she felt there was pain there too.
“It’s a thousand times worse for you.” She feathered her fingers along his cheekbone. “You share your father with an entire country.”
He turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. “Pater has always made sure to be a father to me in private. My old nurse told me that he would create consternation in the nursery when I was a baby because he insisted on feeding me himself once a day. If his schedule kept him late, he would still come and scoop me out of my cradle to sit and rock me while I slept. Knowing that helps when I have to be his subject rather than his child.”
“That is so sweet.” The image of King Luis holding his infant son in his arms in the middle of the night brought a prickle of tears to her eyes. She couldn’t picture her father doing that, but maybe he had. She should ask her mother.
“Now it’s harder for him to be only my father, but he does his best.” Raul took another bite of brownie.
Harder because Raul was the king-in-training, whether he liked it or not.
His life was mapped out for him. Even who he was allowed to marry was constrained by his position.
If he wanted to rebel against his father, he didn’t have much space to do it in.
Her stomach twisted at the thought of such limitations.
“Did you ever want to be something other than a prince?” She took a swallow of champagne and hoped she hadn’t pushed too far. “I mean, I got to choose my career, even though my father made his disapproval clear.”
Raul cut his brownie with deliberation, making a piece that was a perfect square.
“That was too personal,” Erica said quickly. “Don’t answer it.”
“When I was ten, I wanted to be a professional futbol player, but what kid doesn’t?
” He gave a brief smile before he laid his fork on his plate.
“I care deeply about Caleva and its people. My position allows me to help them in ways that no one else can. Honestly, I don’t know what else I would want to do.
” He made a wry face. “That sounds incredibly hokey, as Grace would say, doesn’t it? ”
His voice rang with conviction. He was speaking from his heart.
“It sounds like the commitment I want from my future king.”
He flopped over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m not like Gabriel. I don’t have a brilliant talent. All I know how to do is be the Prince of Caleva.”
“Then it’s a good thing that you excel at the job.” She felt like she was flying a helicopter without the pedals in this conversation. Her own fault since she had asked the question that started it.
He rolled onto his side to face her again, the angles of his face tight. “My father is always there to save the day. If I fail, no one knows. Sometimes not even I do.”
She swallowed a gasp at the raw honesty of his admission. The confident, charming, charismatic Prince Raul didn’t think he was good at his job.