The Royal Marriage. Fiona Hood-Stewart
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can tell me all about this place. After all, as you so rightly pointed out, I have came all this way on a wild goose chase, and I might as well spend a few days getting to know the region. I’ve never been to this part of Brazil before.’
‘Naturally you must stay,’ Gabriella replied, quickly retrieving her poise, once again the perfect hostess.
This man, she realised uncomfortably, was nothing like the picture she’d created in her imaginative mind. He was neither fat nor ugly, nor did he leer. Well, actually, she’d known that already, from having read about him in glossy magazines. But still. Not only was he devastatingly and disturbingly handsome, but there was something about him that attracted her in a way she’d never experienced before.
And he had the nerve to make it quite clear he wasn’t interested in her!
That had never happened before. Since her early childhood Gabriella Guimaraes had been brought up to consider herself a rare beauty, a wealthy heiress, and a great catch. It came as a disconcerting blow to realise he was watching her rather as he might an amusing puppy. Well, that would not last long, she determined. A glint entered her emerald-tinted eyes as she leaned forward to reach for her glass, making sure she revealed a little more bronzed leg. He might not want to marry her, but she would make damn sure he knew exactly who he was dealing with. Gabriella Guimaraes was used to crooking her finger and watching all the young men she knew crawl, drooling, at her feet. She was not about to see that change.
Prince or no Prince.
CHAPTER TWO
THE horses moved abreast of one another, one white, one chestnut, galloping across the wet sand and kicking up a spray as they raced along the beach towards the setting sun, which was etched like a stark ball of fire on the pink horizon.
Ricardo had spent a pleasant day driving around the estate with Gonzalo. Then they’d returned for a late lunch of ensopado de camarao, a delicious dish of shrimp stew prepared with coconut milk, accompanied by white rice, black beans and farofa—a preparation of manioc flour and butter—and washed down with a Caipirinha—sugar cane alcohol with crushed lime and ice.
Then, after a siesta, Gonzalo had suggested Ricardo and Gabriella take a ride.
‘Take your swimming shorts,’ Gonzalo had said to Ricardo, ‘and you can have a swim—either in the ocean or at the cachoeira. Gabriella will show you. She goes there regularly.’
And now here they were, galloping along the ocean’s edge, the scent of the sea filling their nostrils, a soft wind caressing their skin.
‘Follow me.’ Gabriella twisted around in her saddle and called out suddenly. Then, changing direction, she headed up the beach and galloped inland, towards a tropical landscape of heavy vegetation that reminded him of the rainforest. Soon they were moving at a slower pace along a path through a maze of tropical trees interspersed with glimmers of red sunlight. Ricardo followed, watching the slim figure in the saddle before him, her hair catching the glinting light.
Then, when he least expected it, the thick vegetation gave way and they rode into a clearing. To his surprise Ricardo saw a small natural lake, at the far end of which a waterfall cascaded over stark rocks into silent dark green waters. It was extraordinarily beautiful.
‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Gabriella exclaimed proudly, leaping off her horse. ‘This is where we’ll swim.’
‘It’s amazing,’ Ricardo agreed, following suit and leaving his horse to graze as she had, watching her as once again she slipped off her clothes. He stood a moment appreciating the view: her body was spectacular, bronzed and smooth, her limbs long and lithe, her yellow bikini tiny. Yet there was nothing provocative in her stance. She was graceful and sexy, yet he got the impression she was not fully aware of just how sexy she actually was. He took a deep breath, then removed his own jeans and joined her at the water’s edge.
Gabriella flashed him a quick, challenging smile. ‘Race you to the other side,’ she said, diving expertly in.
With no hesitation Ricardo followed. They were head-to-head when he realised Gabriella was an excellent swimmer. But soon he was several strokes ahead, and waiting for her when she reached the other side.
Her head emerged from the water, hair sleeked back, eyes flashing. Ricardo grinned wickedly as they faced one another. A rush of desire coursed through him as she stood with the water barely reaching her hips, arched, then sank and dipped her head back in the water again, revealing the perfect curve of her small, firm breasts.
‘You’re not a bad swimmer for a prince,’ she remarked with a pout as she straightened up again.
‘What has my being a prince got to do with my swimming abilities?’ He laughed, watching as she waded into even shallower water, her movements emphasising the curves of her exquisite figure.
‘Nothing.’ She shrugged, laughing too. ‘I just thought that a prince would stay in a stuffy palace and be terribly correct. You don’t seem prince-like at all.’
‘Well, I’m glad I’ve restored your faith in princes,’ Ricardo replied, amused. ‘I do that too—being correct and stuffy, I mean—but not right now.’ Instinctively he moved closer to her, the desire to touch her, to feel that delicious skin and that body in his arms overwhelming.
‘I imagined you differently,’ she said, sinking into the water and floating on her back.
‘Really? How?’
‘Well, you are quite old, of course, so I thought you’d be more serious. Hey, I’m going to stand under the waterfall. Want to come?’
‘Why not?’ Together they moved towards the rush of water. ‘Usually I swim naked here,’ she said with a touch of regret. ‘It feels great.’
‘Don’t let me inhibit you.’
She moved from under the spray and looked at him speculatively, her eyes filled with haughty challenge and a touch of doubt. Then she tossed her head and sent him a challenging glare. ‘Okay. Hold on to this for me, will you?’ Wriggling provocatively under the water, which barely covered her breasts, she slipped off the brief bikini and handed it to him. Then, before he could react, she was swimming away—a lissome, bewitching mermaid, playing a nimble game of hide-and-seek in the deep dark waters.
Ricardo watched her, fascinated, desire clouding his reason. Without hesitation he removed his swimming shorts. Tossing them to where Gabriella’s bikini lay, he swam after her, catching her waist and turning her abruptly about.
‘This is a dangerous game you’re playing, little girl,’ he murmured, his voice husky with pent-up desire as he drank in her full parted lips, her challenging yet hesitant eyes, her laughing head thrown back. But as his arms came around her he felt her stiffen, saw her sea-green eyes turn dark with doubt.
But it was too late.
Before she could move he drew her more firmly into his arms, felt the soft curve of her breast meet his hard chest, heard the quick indrawn breath. Instinctively his hands glided down her back. His cupped her firm, beautifully curved bottom and pressed her closer against him, until she felt the hardness of his desire. He saw her lips part in surprise, felt her gesture of restraint, saw the doubt in her eyes and knew he should stop. Instead his lips came down on hers, parting, seeking, provoking a soft yet anxious response as expertly he kissed her.
Gabriella had wanted to provoke him, but this was not at all the reaction she had expected. She had been kissed before—usually at a school dance—but had always found it boring. She was used to being in control, the one who decided when it would begin and when it would end. But now she was out of her league. She had never stood naked in a man’s arms before, and as Ricardo’s hand reached her breast she let out a gasp. She had never meant for anything like this to occur. Yet it was so new, so wonderful, so delicious, so incredibly sensual that all she could do was wind her arms about his neck and feel, letting her body cleave to his. It was an incredible sensation. Never had she been so close to a man. She knew she was the one who had sought the situation