Chapter 23
Erica lay under the awning on the boat’s stern and stared down into the turquoise water, watching the brilliantly colored fish dart around the coral reef below.
Bertrand’s wife had arrived at Redda’s private island that morning, and now the couple were snorkeling a few yards away under the watchful gaze of their boat’s pilot.
Erica’s bandage and the doctor’s orders to stay out of the sun gave her an excuse not to join them, although she mostly forgot about the cuts until she carelessly brushed against them.
Were it not for the antibiotics, she would be almost tempted to don a mask and fins. If she could plunge into the frigid, pitch-dark Atlantic Ocean, maybe she could paddle around among harmless, easy-to-spot little fish.
She rolled onto her back with a groan that had nothing to do with her rapidly healing wounds.
Thinking of her desperate pursuit of the dragon brought a wave of loss.
How had she managed to fall so deeply in love with Raul in such a short time?
And why had she allowed herself to do so when she was well aware that their fling was just that, intense but with a very short expiration date?
She knew that the Prince of Caleva had to look much higher than a hired jet pilot for any serious relationship, and she knew that Raul would always do his duty as the prince.
She crooked her arm over her eyes to hide the tears. Here she was in paradise, incapable of enjoying it. She should just rip off the bandages and dive into the water. Fear and the burn of salt water would be better than this abject misery.
The sound of an engine caught her attention, and she sat up, squinting to follow the path of a small jet.
It was descending, which was odd since the only nearby place to land was this entirely private island.
The only other person who would have access was Kyran Redda, and she couldn’t imagine that the rock star would interrupt Gabriel and Quinn’s honeymoon.
Yet the plane continued to descend, clearly headed for the island’s landing strip.
The jet dropped behind the trees, but she could hear the scream of the engines as they reversed thrust to brake.
Shrugging, she returned to watching the flickering fish in the water and wallowing in her unhappiness until Bertrand swam up.
“I’m sorry you can’t come in the water,” her copilot said. “The colors of the sea creatures are incredible.”
“I can see them just fine from here,” she said. “Did the shark swim by you?”
For a moment, he looked startled, but then he laughed. “You didn’t see a shark or you would have yelled. I saw a sea turtle, though.”
“Very cool. I’ll check out your photos on land.” She waved at Bertrand’s waterproof camera. “By the way, Gabriel and Quinn have company. Another jet just landed here.”
“Huh,” Bertrand said. “You’d think they’d want to be alone. Maybe it’s just supplies?”
“By private jet? It’s a lot cheaper to put them on a boat.”
“Maybe they ran out of something crucial like toilet paper…or champagne,” Bertrand said with a grin.
Erica reached down to flick water at him. “Go back to Solange.”
Their heads both swiveled as a different kind of engine’s roar sounded. A sleek white speedboat had come around the curve of the shore and was headed straight for them.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” Bertrand said.
“Maybe someone from the second jet?” Erica speculated. “It can’t be a medical emergency because they would have had us use Gabriel’s plane.”
Bertrand called to his wife to come back to their boat so she didn’t accidentally get run over by the approaching craft.
As it got closer, she could see two people on it, one steering the boat and the other standing beside the helmsman. Her heart did a flip even as she told herself it wasn’t possible. But the passenger looked heartbreakingly like Raul.
She scrambled to her feet and smoothed down her white, ankle-length cover-up.
The boat throttled back the engine to a low mutter and eased up beside their craft.
Her lungs suddenly refused to function. The passenger was Raul, wearing a white shirt and blue shorts, his hair ruffled by the wind.
Erica froze and nearly toppled over the side as the speedboat’s wake rocked the deck under her feet. Grabbing wildly at the railing to save herself, she shook her head, feeling as though she had conjured the prince up out of her daydreams.
What the hell is Raul doing here?
She clung to the railing as he tossed a line across to their helmsman, roping the two watercraft together. Then he leaped onto their deck and climbed onto the stern, his gaze locked on her.
“Erica, would you join me on my boat?” He made an oddly tentative gesture toward the sleek speedboat bobbing beside them. “I would like to speak with you in private, if you are willing to listen.”
Dear God, he looked so…so beautiful with the sunlight glinting in the blond highlights of his waving hair and his broad shoulders limned by the white cotton of his shirt blazing against the blue sky and sea. No smile curled his sculpted lips, and worry clouded his blue eyes.
Her throat refused to function, so she just nodded.
Now his mouth relaxed into a relieved curve as he held out his hand to her.
What choice did she have but to put her hand in his, the touch of his warm skin and strong fingers sending a lance of pleasure and pain through her so sharp that she squeezed her eyes closed for a moment to ride it out.
When she opened them, he was closer, looking down at her with a question on his face. “I’ll come,” she managed to croak.
“Does it hurt you to move?” he asked.
“Hurt me?” She cleared her throat enough to say, “Oh, you mean the cuts. I barely notice them.”
Raul’s lips tightened in a look of disapproval, but he said nothing.
However, when he helped her cross between the two boats, he treated her as though she were an invalid, his strength like an oak tree for her to lean on.
As soon as they were both aboard, the helmsman cast off the line and leaped across to the snorkeling boat.
She turned to Raul in surprise.
“Don’t worry,” he said, taking the wheel. “I know where I’m going.” He pointed to the seat beside his. “Make sure to stay here under the canopy where you won’t be in the sun.”
“How do you know I shouldn’t be exposed to sunlight?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought even a prince couldn’t breach doctor-patient confidentiality.”
He shook his head at her. “I saw the box of antibiotics you were carrying when you got off the Guardia Maritima ship.”
“Oh.” Her prickliness was for her own protection, but that didn’t make it all right to snap at him.
He hesitated a moment, as though he wanted to say something more. Then he increased speed and pulled away. She turned to see Bertrand and Solange staring after her with shock on their faces. She lifted a hand to wave, and they returned the gesture in a baffled way.
Raul steered the boat in a graceful circle and gunned the engine so that it was impossible to communicate without shouting. Erica perched on the seat beside Raul’s, sneaking glances at his strongly carved profile. He caught her and gave her a dazzling smile before she could look away.
That smile had to be a good sign, right?
He wouldn’t smile at her that way if he were here to relay some kind of bad news.
What bad news would necessitate the Crown Prince of Caleva flying partway around the world anyway?
The dragon had died? The eggs had been stolen again? Al-Buya was making trouble? All absurd.
She went back to admiring Raul. He handled the boat like a pro, but of course he would. When you grew up in an island country, you spent time on the water. And princes had fancy watercraft to play with.
The boat slowed, and Erica pulled her gaze away from Raul.
They were entering a small cove, circled on three sides by white sandy beaches and palm trees, the water a brilliant turquoise, as it always was around the island.
It reminded her of La Sorpresa de los Piratas off the coast of Caleva, except this cove wasn’t a perfect volcanic circle.
Raul killed the engine and scrambled forward to drop the anchor, pulling the boat to a gentle halt. Then he moved back to extend the canopy over the seating area in the stern.
“Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together in a nervous gesture. “I come bearing gifts. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in the stern while I retrieve them from the cabin?”
Gifts? Qué locura! What craziness is this? He didn’t fly to the Caribbean to bring her presents.
He disappeared down the ladder before she could say anything, so she settled on the blue cushions of the long bench seat at the back of the boat. Her throat was tight with nerves, making her swallow a couple of times to try to loosen it.
When Raul came out of the cabin, carrying a large white rectangular box topped by a shoebox, her heart fluttered uncomfortably.
As he placed the boxes beside her on the cushions, he said, “These aren’t really gifts, I suppose. They’re more…replacements.”
Based on the dimensions of the box, she had an inkling of what might be in it.
However, he wouldn’t have traveled halfway around the world to deliver replacements.
She wanted to tell him to cut to the chase and explain why he was here, but she also wanted to spend as much time alone with him as she could. It might be her last chance.
She picked up the larger box, untying the green silk ribbon and lifting off the top.
Inside, bronze fabric shimmered, and when she lifted it partway out, she could see it was exactly the same dress she had worn to the wedding reception.
The expensive gown that had been destroyed in the dragon rescue.
“It’s my dress.” She stroked the gleaming fabric in astonishment. “I can’t believe you found the same one.”