His Royal Pleasure Read online

  Chad shrugged. “She’s perfect for the job. She used to take gymnastics. She’s light and agile. Plus, the guests will love it.”

  Al dismissed it. “She might get hurt. We’ll get someone else. She can be the referee.”

  “We’ll have some people to spot,” Chad argued.

  “And what if they miss?”

  “Just a minute.” Katherine frowned. They were talking about her as if she weren’t there. “I’ve already told Chad I’d do it. You’re not telling me I can’t, are you?”

  “You might get hurt,” Al explained. “You’re not strong enough.”

  Chad snickered.

  Katherine and Al glared at him.

  He cleared his throat, stifling his amusement. “I, uh, think I’ll go outside with the guests.”

  A twinge of irritation compounded by lack of sleep twisted through her.

  Al’s gaze probed hers. “You don’t really want to do this.”

  She shifted. “That’s not the point.”

  “You’re right,” he said with a nod. “The point is that you have no business crawling on top of nine men to reach the top of a flagpole.”

  Katherine grinned in amusement. “Oh, I don’t know. Some women might find the image of having nine men at their feet appealing.”

  Al’s mouth firmed into a straight line. “I won’t allow you to do this.” He turned to leave as if his was the final word.

  Katherine’s eyes opened wide. For a moment she was speechless. Where did he get the nerve to order her as if she were one of his employees instead of the other way around? Where did he get the right? Her temperature rose. This wasn’t the first time he’d pulled this. She tore after him. “I’m doing it. You’ve got this all confused, Al. I don’t take orders from you. I give them to you.”

  He stopped and half turned.

  “You can’t order me not to climb that flagpole. Do you hear me? You can’t order me around.”

  His displeasure was almost a tangible thing. He looked big and very ticked off. At this moment no one in his right mind would cross him.

  Katherine, however, wasn’t in her right mind. His imperious attitude galled her, and it didn’t help that she kept catching herself humming Paganini every time she turned around. She poked her freshly manicured finger into his concrete chest. “Just because you’re a big man and I’m a small woman doesn’t mean you can push me around.”

  He raised an eyebrow and glanced down at her impertinent finger. Abruptly aware of the chest beneath her finger, she cleared her throat and told herself to take a quick megastep back, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate.

  “I have no desire to push you around, mon amie,” he said in a low, sexy voice. “Not until we’re in bed. In that case I’ll be very glad you’re female, and I’ll expect you to push back. It will be—” he paused and the devil came into his eyes “—more fun that way, no?”

  Katherine sucked in a quick breath and stumbled backward. She couldn’t think about being in bed with him. The idea would leave her boneless for a week. “You’re twisting everything I say. The campers are waiting, and I’m going to climb that flagpole.”

  “You will not.”

  “I will, and you’ll have nothing to do with it.” She marched around him and felt him stalking her all the way to the harbor.

  Katherine wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but within minutes it was all arranged. She would climb the flagpole, but Al would be the one holding her on top of two layers of men when she grabbed the tin can.

  Suzanne blew the whistle, and the two teams scrambled into action. Six stout, medium-height men locked arms around the bottom of the flagpole. Immediately Chad, Al and one other man began climbing on top of them to form the second tier.

  She glanced over at the other team, which was mostly teenage boys, and laughed at the comments filtering through the groans and grunts.

  “Get your foot out of my face! I can’t breathe.”

  “Quit wiggling. I might as well have Jell-O under my feet.”

  “Jell-O would sure as hell smell better than your feet.”

  Then she heard a stocky fellow from her own team yell, “Chad, your heel is in my Adam’s apple. I swear I’m gonna rip it off if you—”

  “Okay, okay.” Chad shifted. “Katie, get the lead out. We’re ready.”

  For just a second, when she looked at the way the men swayed and moved, a sliver of apprehension crept in, and she thought about what Al had said about her safety. Then she noticed the high-flyer for the other team starting to climb, and her competitive spirit took over.

  She ran to the shortest man and smiled apologetically. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  He nodded.

  She climbed up his back and wobbled onto his shoulders. “Chad, you’re next.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’m going to put my foot on your waist and try to swing up.”

  Chad ground his teeth. “Just shut up and do it.”

  Katherine got the first part right, but he started to sway. Her heart clenched. “Chad! You can’t move.”

  “I have to move a little. You know, Katie, you weigh more than I thought you did.”

  He swayed again, and her hands started to sweat. Seeing Al’s rock-solid form beside her, she reconsidered her options. “I’m going to try Al.”

  “Then hurry up. I think the other team is gaining, and I don’t want to lug all those people into the harbor.”

  “Harbor?” she said faintly as she slid back down. Her foot connected with somebody’s head. “Oops. Sorry.”

  “Lock your arms around my neck and wrap your legs around my waist,” Al said in a clear, calm voice.

  Katherine shifted and stretched, reaching for his shoulders.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Frustration warred with fear. She wanted this to be over. “You’re too tall.”

  He groaned but bent slightly to accommodate her, and she hitched herself up. She pressed her face into his neck for just a moment, relishing the security.

  Al felt her breath against his skin. Her breasts plastered to his back, and her thighs molded to his hard hips. It was as close as she’d ever been to him, and it was all wrong. They shouldn’t be up here. They should be in bed. On a table. On the floor. Hell, he wasn’t picky. He’d even risk the discomfort of sand for her.

  He sensed her fear. “You don’t have to finish this if you don’t want to.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said through gritted teeth, slowly moving her feet to either side of his hips. “It’s just that the ground is farther away than I planned.”

  Al licked his lips to keep from grinning. He bit his tongue. He would not say “I told you so.”

  “And don’t you dare say I told you so!”

  A chuckle escaped. “It’s difficult to say anything with the death grip you have on my throat.”

  “Hey, are y’all having a tea party up there, or what?” called one of the foundation men.

  More grumbles and groans followed.

  “Okay, okay,” Katherine whispered. She was wet with perspiration. The afternoon sun beat down so mercilessly, she was sure she had freckles forming on the inside of her eyelids. She lost her footing and let out a panicky whimper. Al’s hand latched on to her wrist.

  “Whatever you do,” he said, “lean forward. I won’t let you fall.”

  Somewhere inside her she must have believed him, because her heart stopped pounding, and she felt calmed, almost safe. She scrambled up until she was sitting on his shoulders, then standing. Whoever had coated the pole with Crisco had done his job well. She hugged the warm, slippery metal and saw the ferry in the far distance. She had an odd sensation, looking down at the tops of trees.

  Her foundation shifted, and Katherine was jerked back to reality. She stretched her fingers up to the can and slipped it off. “I got it!”

  The onlookers whistled and cheered. The other team booed.

  Katherine sat down hard on Al’s shoulders.

 
“Take your time,” he said, holding her thigh.

  For a half-second she thought about how right his hands felt on her.

  Then she shook her head. High altitude, she told herself. She scooted down, hopped off and the pyramid collapsed.

  Her feet barely touched the ground before Rich hauled her up in his arms.

  “What in—”

  He smiled. “Rules of the game. Winners get dunked in the harbor.”

  Katherine glared at him, struggling against his hold. “Then why did I try so hard?” she muttered.

  Rich just laughed and tightened his grip. “So you wouldn’t have to carry all the other team’s men to the water!”

  Then Katherine was sailing through the air and into the water. When she surfaced, she heard more splashes, hoots and hollers, and a loud argument between Rich and Al. Blinking the cool water from her eyes, she spotted them. Al had Rich by the collar and looked ready to jerk a knot in the dockmaster.

  “It’s just part of the game!” Rich said.

  Katherine groaned and kicked her way closer to shore. “Al, they’re throwing all the winners in,” she yelled. She pointed at Chad getting his due. “Look at Chad.”

  Al paused but didn’t let go of Rich. He looked at Chad first, then at Katherine in complete confusion. “It’s part of the game?”

  She gave a big nod and smiled. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  He abruptly noticed the three men standing expectantly by his side. “Me?”

  They nodded.

  Al gave Rich a hard glare, released his shirt, then sighed and nodded to the waiting culprits. They picked Al up and threw him in the water.

  Trying to conceal her laughter, Katherine swam to Al’s side when he surfaced.

  “You think this is funny,” he growled.

  The giggle bubbled out. “Very.” She laughed again helplessly. “You look so stern.”

  He fought a grin. “Then why are you laughing?”

  “You look so stern.” Another giggle. She took in a mouthful of water that time. “And so wet.”

  “Come here,” he said around his own chuckle.

  He dragged her close, so that her slick body rubbed against his. Her breath caught. “Stop,” she protested. “I feel like a greased pig.”

  He shook his head, his hair blacker than ever. She was close enough to see the way the water made his eyelashes spiky. “Not a pig.”

  He wrapped one hand on her back, and Katherine’s hands automatically went to his chest. The water lost its cooling effect.

  His thin wet cotton shirt revealed more than concealed the contours beneath, the hard muscles, swirls of dark hair and male nipples puckered against the cold. She felt the strongest urge to rip the shirt off and bury her face there, to inhale his scent, feel his skin against her cheek, to taste him. A quiver rippled through her.

  She tore her gaze from his chest. “Well,” she said brightly, trying to recapture a lighter mood. “Did you have fun?”

  He looked at her oddly, as if he were puzzling over her behavior. “You mean, did I enjoy getting thrown in the water?”

  The thud of his heartbeat beneath her palm distracted her. She cleared her throat. “Well, that and the flagpole race. All of it.”

  “All of it,” he mused, bringing her tighter against him. His eyelids lowered sensuously. “I don’t know about all of it, Katherine. But I believe getting thrown in the water with you definitely has its compensations.” He glanced at her breasts.

  Katherine’s gaze shot down to what had become a peekaboo shirt and felt her cheeks burn. “Oh, no,” she moaned.

  He had the nerve to laugh.

  She glared.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, and dunked her before she could hit him.

  The next morning Katherine was up at the ungodly hour of four-thirty. All part of Al’s recreational education, she thought with a grimace as they baited their hooks.

  “It’s quiet,” Al said, and cast his line.

  “Yes. I’d counted on Chad to come with us.” As a chaperon, her conscience baited her. She frowned. “He’s usually more talkative in the morning than I am.”

  “Except when he stays at Chuck’s too long and wakes up with a hangover.”

  “Right,” she said dryly, and cast her line.

  “What made you decide on fishing?”

  She yawned. “Well, I’ve been analyzing your fun…” She thought for a moment and smiled. “Your fun disability.”

  He turned his head at that. “Disability!”

  Katherine nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is. It appears that you always need to have some sort of active goal in order to have fun. And what I’ve decided is that you need to learn to enjoy the process of having fun.”

  Leaning closer to her, he whispered, “Isn’t the goal of fishing to catch a fish?”

  His whisper sent a hot shiver through her. She leaned away and propped her fishing pole in the bracket. “Some people would say that. But I think the goal of fishing is to enjoy the quiet.” She slapped at a mosquito. “In spite of the bugs.”

  “All right,” he said, and wondered what was in her head this morning. She’d seemed inordinately upset when Chad couldn’t go with them. Al put his fishing pole in a bracket, then eased onto his back.

  He watched her hug her knees to her chest, her hair flowing freely over her back. She looked into the dark horizon, humming softly under her breath. He felt a strange protectiveness surge through him.

  Fingers burning to touch her long curls, he gave in to the inclination and fondled a strand. The humming stopped. He was oddly disappointed. “What were you singing?”

  She paused, then moaned. “Oh, not again.” She sighed and flipped her hand through her hair. “Nothing, really. Just a little tune I learned a long time ago.”

  She seemed uncomfortable. It frustrated him. He wanted her free and easy with him. He gave her hair a gentle tug. “Is it the Paganini?”

  Slowly she turned. Her wary gaze caught his. “Yes,” she admitted.

  He tangled more of her hair in his fingers. “I’d like to see this music box. Will you show me?”

  “It’s broken.”

  “But you still have it.”

  She nodded, and he sensed her wariness. The music box represented her most cherished dreams. “Is it in the cottage?”

  Hesitantly she nodded again. “In my closet.” She hadn’t looked at it in years, but she knew it was still there in a box. She shrugged. “I doubt you’d be impressed with an old broken music box.”

  He moved closer. His hand was still on her hair, and his scent seemed to fill her senses. The morning was cool, and she found herself wanting to lean in to his masculine warmth. He reached for her hand, turned it over and drew slow circles on her palm. Her breasts immediately tightened. She was glad it was still dark, and he couldn’t see how easily he affected her.

  “But will you show me?”

  Oh, hell, she thought. It’s just a music box. “Okay, okay. Can I have my hand back now?”

  “No,” he said simply, and brought her fingers to his lips.

  She should have jerked her hand away. But mesmerized by the look in his eyes, she didn’t move an inch.

  His gaze fastened on her, he gave a quick hard tug that pulled her off balance and onto his chest. “You were too far away.”

  Her heart flipped. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Maybe I can change your mind.”

  With no further warning he pressed his mouth against hers. His tongue teased and coaxed, and she couldn’t help thinking his kisses were richer than Godiva chocolate and just as forbidden. One just wasn’t enough. His passion was a dark, potent liquor that punched through her veins, leaving her intoxicated.

  He slanted his mouth and shifted so that she lay sprawled on his chest, her legs between his raised knees. His arousal nudged the apex of her thighs, hard and ready. Through their clothing he crushed her breasts to his chest, and his hands urged her bottom in a rocking motion against him. Her
heart clenched tight, and she went light-headed. It was just enough to make her wonder if she was going to faint. She made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

  He pulled her away. For a moment she resisted.

  He swore, then gave her a quick, hard kiss. “We’ve got to breathe. Help me out, Katherine.”

  She slumped to his shoulder and took several minutes to catch her breath. There was no use pretending anymore. “Lord, you can kiss.”

  “I want to make love to you.”

  Her breath caught. She was still off balance. “Do we have to? Kissing you’s much better than sex.”

  He looked at her as if she’d lost it. “Don’t you like sex?”

  She squirmed. “Well, it’s not exactly that.”

  “Katherine.” He tilted her chin up so she would meet his gaze. “I think you need to explain.”

  Her heart sank. She really didn’t want to discuss it. She’d revealed far too much already. And this was just too private. He’d never understand, not in a million years.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m not good at it,” Katherine said.

  Alex blinked. Unless he’d missed a switch in the conversation, “it” was sex. “But how—”

  She stiffened and tried to ease away, but he held fast. “Don’t feel sorry for me. We all have our talents. I’m an excellent first-grade teacher. I’m a decent dancer.” She shrugged. “I’m good at a lot of things. I’m just not good at—” she took a deep breath and finished “—sex.”

  Though she tried to affect a matter-of-fact tone, Alex could hear the misery in her voice. This was a moment that called for all his tact, diplomacy and understanding. Fury lashed through him, and his voice rose in spite of himself. “What jerk tried to sell you that piece of idiocy?”

  Katherine winced and sat up. “Stop yelling! You’ll scare away the fish. Nobody had to tell me. I figured it out on my own.” She glared at him. “I don’t like discussing it. And if you had an ounce of sensitivity, you’d drop the subject.”

  Alex sat up and positioned his face about a millimeter from hers. “You brought up the subject.”

  “I did not,” she whispered, her eyes turbulent with emotion. “You did when you said you wanted to make love to me.”