Page 58 of A Royal Mistake

Her eyes dipped to his swim trunks, lingering on the thick scar that peeked out of his suit, marking his right hip. She tried not to look—God knows she did—but it was impossible. The thin fabric hugged every curve of his muscled body, leaving little to her virginal imagination.

“Well?” Henry prodded.

“You look delicious.”

He snickered, broad shoulders shaking.

Sweet Jesus. Had she said that out loud?

“Delightful,” she quickly amended, with far too much enthusiasm. “You look delightful. Go get ’em, tiger.”

* * *

Pippa walkedtwo steps behind him the entire way back to the pool. The sidewalk was plenty wide enough for the both of them, which could only mean one thing. She was staring at his ass.

He could practically feel her eyes boring into him. And he didn’t mind one bit.

A niggling voice in the back of his head told him he should reveal his true name, but he slammed the door on that line of thinking. Despite their chemistry, they had no future. Pippa wasn’t ready to settle down, and even if she were, their lives were going in different directions. He was headed for Uganda and she was headed… who knew where. No, he wouldn’t risk his privacy or his freedom by revealing his royal heritage. Not when Pippa was likely to cast him off with the other suitors once she found out.

“Good luck,” she chirped as they circled the pool and rejoined the others.

He smirked and glanced over his shoulder. “Luck implies a certain lack of skill, Your Highness. Better to save it for the poor sods who didn’t play on a championship team at university.”

Her mouth formed a perfect O before he turned and dove into the pool.

Despite the recent heatwave, the water was damn cold, and he forced himself to remain below the surface until he’d grown comfortable with the frigid temperature. When he surfaced, he glanced at the pool’s edge where Pippa stretched out on a lounger, smoothing the front of her sundress, ankles crossed primly. The dress was blindingly white against her sun-kissed skin, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she wore beneath it. A modest one-piece? One of those tank top suits? A bikini?

He should be so lucky.

A loud whistle from the other side of the pool pierced his thoughts, and he turned to see Dom and the others splitting off into two teams.

After a heated debate about which team would be saddled with Henry, Dom eventually fell on the sword and agreed to take him, since the game had been his idea. Henry suspected this had been his brother’s plan all along, despite his protests to the contrary. Like Henry, he was a championship-level player and having both of them on the same team would be a definite advantage.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Dom said, clapping the ball between his hands. “Let’s have a clean game.”

Not bloody likely.

He’d played enough water polo to know there was no such thing as a clean game, especially when the stakes were this high. After all, every man in this pool was vying for The Princess Royal’s attention, dogged by the knowledge that the smallest slipup could result in elimination.

Like it was a fucking game.

Hell, for some of them, it probably was a game. Dom sure as shit didn’t want to settle down, least of all with the Valerian princess.

“Lend us a hand, princess?” Dom called, holding the yellow ball up like a beacon.

Pippa bit her lip and climbed slowly to her feet. “Of course. What do you need?”

Dom quickly explained and tossed the ball to her. She caught it easily enough as the teams swam to opposite ends of the pool where their respective goals had been set up.

“Ready?” Pippa called out when everyone was in position. Without waiting for a reply, she tossed the ball in the middle of the pool. All hell broke loose as the suitors scrambled for the ball, slicing through the water with practiced strokes, each desperate to secure possession for his respective team.

Henry cut across the water with ease, his attention focused on the ball. On the other side of the pool, Prince Gabriel was closing in fast. He put on a burst of speed, edging out the royal and clamping down on the ball just as Gabriel’s meaty hand slapped the water where it had been just a second before.

Better luck next time, Arschloch.

He turned to pass the ball to Dom, who was bringing up the rear. As he released it, he caught an elbow in the back. Pain lanced up his spine and the ball’s trajectory was diverted. It landed a meter short of the intended target.

He didn’t need to look to know who’d thrown the elbow.