Page 81 of Royal Affair

I tiptoed across the terrace, bare feet silent on the smooth stone. He did not look up as I approached, though I knew he must be aware of my presence.

"You're slipping," I said lightly. "A proper bodyguard would have heard me coming."

His mouth curved slightly. "I heard you open the bathroom door, walk to your closet, select that dress, and step onto the terrace."

Of course he had. Nothing escaped his notice, especially where I was concerned.

I sat on the edge of the lounger next to his, letting my feet dangle in the cool water of the pool. For several minutes, we remained in companionable silence, listening to the distant sound of waves breaking against the cliffs below.

"Signor Rossi is quite the character," I said finally, my heart beginning to race with what I was about to reveal. “He is very forthright in his opinions.”

James made a noncommittal sound, still looking out toward the darkened sea.

I took a deep breath, then switched to Italian. "Penso che abbia ragione, sai. La vita è troppo breve per la paura."

(I think he's right, you know. Life is too short for fear.)

James went completely still, then slowly turned to face me, his expression a mixture of shock and something darker, more heated.

"You speak Italian," he said, his voice rough.

"Un po'," I replied with a small smile. (A little.) "Enough to understand what Signor Rossi was saying about me. About us."

The muscles in his jaw jumped. "How much did you understand?"

"Everything." I held his gaze steadily. "That I'm beautiful. That a woman like me won't wait forever. That if you don't take me, someone else will—specifically Marcus with his 'hungry wolf eyes.'”

James stood abruptly, moving to the edge of the pool, his back to me. The tension radiating from him was almost palpable.

"It was just an old man's nonsense," he said dismissively. "He doesn't understand the situation."

"Doesn't he?" I stood too, moving to stand beside him at the pool's edge. "Because from where I'm standing, he sees things more clearly than either of us will admit."

James turned to face me, his eyes dark and turbulent in the blue-tinged light. "Evangeline..."

My name was both a warning and a plea on his lips. I stepped closer, emboldened by the day's success, because Signor Rossi had spoken, and because I knew our time in Sicily was limited and precious before duty would reclaim me back in Bellavista.

"Tell me you don't feel this," I challenged softly, close enough now to feel the heat radiating from his body. "Tell me you don't think about that night in Bellavista every day. Tell me you don't want me, and I'll walk away right now."

His breathing had quickened, his control visibly fraying. "What I want doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." I reached up, my fingers brushing his jaw with feather-light pressure. You matter to me in every way.

With a sound like physical pain, he caught my wrist, preventing further contact. "We can't do this. You know we can't."

"Why?" I pressed, not pulling away from his grip. "Because you're my bodyguard? Because I'm going to be queen? Because you're afraid of what happens when this ends?"

"Yes!," he growled. "All of that. I've been fighting this since the moment I met you. I'm not sure I have the strength to keep fighting anymore." With obvious strain, the words came out accompanied with a core coiling growl, desperation dripping along his forehead.

If James was fighting for his life. I would be the one to save him this time. The raw honesty in his voice made a shiver run down my back, this sensation was not fear but everything to do with a deep seated desire and hunger to explore the body of James Banks.

"Maybe I don't want you to fight it," I whispered.

My world tilted as he grasped me, stealing the ground from beneath my feet, his desperate kiss a plea I couldn't refuse.

He pulled me against him, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that stole my breath. This wasn't the carefully restrainedman who'd kept his distance since that charged moment in Bellavista—this was raw need, declaration, surrender all at once.

My arms wound around his neck as I pressed myself against him, responding with equal fervor.