The Princess and the Playboy. Valerie Parv
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in a swimsuit in front of Jase made her knees weaken. ‘I don’t think so, not today,’ she dissembled.
‘Then I must get dressed and join you inside. Anything else would be impolite,’ he insisted.
Alarm rippled through her. With him in it, the spacious room would seem confining, the walls closer together, the ceiling lower. It was his impressive breadth and height, she accepted, as well as the sheer presence he managed to exude. It was easy to see why he was so successful in business. He radiated the same kind of easy authority as her uncle, the king.
Philippe Rasada, nicknamed the Hawk by his supporters and political adversaries alike, had the same knack of dominating a room simply by entering it. Talay forced a smile. ‘In that case, I will have a swim after all,’ she said around a throat gone suddenly dry. ‘I don’t wish to spoil your pleasure.’
His gaze lingered on her for the longest time. ‘Sapphan has many pleasures. Her crystalline waters hardly compare with the attractions much closer to hand.’
He gave her no time to absorb the poetic compliment, far less frame a coherent response, before he led the way back to the pool and cut a sleek arc through the air as he dived in. She held her breath as he stayed under for a long time and only released it when he finally surfaced on the far side, treading water with powerful thrusts which he managed to make appear effortless.
Hastily she turned towards the dressing rooms, where Allie kept swimwear for her as she spent much of her free time here. She emerged, wearing a modest one-piece costume which usually felt comfortable. In indigo and white, it was a traditional Sapphan design known as ‘flowing water’ which showed stepped patterns representing streams, rivers and waterfalls.
With Jase’s eyes on her as she walked towards the water, she was more aware of the parts the suit didn’t cover, such as the curve of her hips, her legs—which were long for a Sapphan woman—and the way the traditional material outlined the swell of her breasts.
As a member of the royal family she should be accustomed to public scrutiny, but Jase’s inspection managed to convey a far more personal interest. His appraisal was leisurely and frankly appreciative as she stepped to the water’s edge. His expression seemed to say, ‘If you were not a married woman...’
She dived into the water and welcomed the cool, silken feel as it closed over her. Unfortunately Jase moved while she was under water, or else she misjudged the distance, because she surfaced uncomfortably close to him. ‘Michael was right—you are a real water baby,’ he commented.
She smiled to hide her discomfiture. ‘In Sapphan we have a natural affinity with the water. Two centuries ago many of our people earned their living as pearl divers or shell hunters.’ Many were also sea-nomads and pirates but she didn’t point this out. ‘During the early eighteen hundreds many pearl divers from Sapphan worked along the north-west coast of Australia.’
‘With the pearling luggers, based in Broome,’ he confirmed. ‘At first the divers were aboriginal, then they came from Sapphan and later the Japanese took over.’
‘You know your history, Jase.’
He smiled wryly. ‘I should. I was born in Broome. I built my first resort there.’
It was the opening she’d hoped for but she hesitated, before taking advantage of it. Something about Jase Clendon warned her he would make a formidable enemy. He would also make a formidable friend, she suspected, which was probably why Michael Martine was so loyal to him.
Everything about Jase suggested he would also make a formidable lover, but Talay pushed the thought away. She wasn’t likely to find out. Nor did she want to, she added hastily to herself. They had other business and delaying it would only make it more difficult. As it was, she had only these two days in which to try to change his plans.
She side-stroked to the edge of the pool and clung to it, her feet just touching the bottom. ‘How many resorts do you own?’
‘Crystal Bay will be the fifth.’
‘Provided something—or someone—doesn’t change your mind about going ahead with it,’ she said, unable to stop her tone from sharpening.
He levelled a long look at her until she wondered if he sensed her disapproval of his plans. Before she could answer he shook his head, shedding water like a tiger having drunk at a watering hole. ‘Why would they want to try, Allie? My resort is needed to give the Pearl Coast an injection of new commercial life. The place is in danger of stagnating, otherwise.’
Despite the coolness of the water, her blood felt heated. How dared he call her beloved Pearl Coast stagnant? ‘Surely there’s a difference between tradition and stagnation?’ she demanded.
He looked startled by her vehemence. ‘You sound as if the area is important to you, Allie.’
‘It is. My mother was born there,’ she snapped.
She realised her mistake as soon as the words escaped her mouth. He frowned. ‘Michael told me your people come from the Jarim islands in the Andaman Sea.’
‘Oh, what a tangled web,’ she thought furiously. Her mother had come from the Pearl Coast. According to Sapphan law, royalty could not marry another member of the royal family so her father, the king’s brother, had taken as his bride a woman from a pearl-farming community. A blue-blooded woman, true enough, with vast land holdings and pearl farming interests of her own, but still a commoner under the law.
Bitterness rose in Talay as she thought of her parents’ lives cut cruelly short by a terrorist bomb attack ten years ago as they had boarded a plane for a visit to a neighbouring island. Talay, sixteen at the time, had been about to board the plane and had survived with horrific scarring to her face. Only the devotion of her grandfather, Leon, and the skills of Australian cosmetic surgeons had repaired the damage. But, however deep her gratitude towards his people, she wasn’t about to let this arrogant Australian dismiss her mother’s way of life as stagnant.
‘My family is scattered,’ she supplied diffidently. ‘Many of them come from the Pearl Coast. They’re a hard-working, fiercely proud people with strong ties to the province. The historical name for Crystal Bay even translates as “mother place”. It is said to whisper to anyone who leaves it, the voices only ceasing when they return to stay.’
The pool was barely large enough to contain her growing anger. He didn’t understand anything. Tremors shook her as she levered herself onto the stone coping and stood up. She had hoped they could discuss rationally the unspoilt beauty of Crystal Province, its historic and cultural uniqueness. Instead, she had allowed emotion to get in the way. She was as annoyed with herself as with him for letting him provoke her.
She was unaware of footsteps on the stone behind her until he took her arm and spun her around. The contact triggered a maelstrom of sensations inside her. She tried to tell herself it was because, as a member of the royal house, she was seldom touched other than by her maid and closest friends. It couldn’t have anything to do with finding Jase a hair’s breadth away, his arm extended towards her so every detail of his long-fingered hand burned itself into her awareness.
He had followed her out of the pool in such a hurry that water streamed from him, steaming gently in the hot air to create a misty halo around his body.
Her attention was captured by the contrasting tenderness in his gaze, and a totally unexpected warmth surged through her. Physically, he had no equal in her experience, but she sensed something more, a connecting of souls she hadn’t anticipated and couldn’t possibly allow with this man. Her every instinct warned her against such foolish indulgence.
The heart-stopping moment ended when he said, ‘I apologise for whatever I said to offend you.’
She shook her head. ‘You don’t understand why I’m angry, do you?’
His mouth twisted wryly. ‘No doubt you’re going to tell me.’
‘Pearl Coast Province is the last remnant of a way of life which has existed unchanged for thousands of years. The