Romancing the Crown: Kate & Lucas: Under the King's Command / The Prince's Wedding. Justine Davis
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for a discussion, Sam.”
“Then what is?”
“Would you just get in the dinghy now, Lieutenant Coburn?”
He watched her in silence for a moment before he clamped his hands over the gunwale. “Better lean back.”
Just as she’d done when he went in, Kate leaned over the opposite side to help balance his weight. He kicked hard to heave his upper body out of the water, then hooked one knee over the side of the boat and rolled smoothly inside.
The dinghy was designed to accommodate two people easily, but it suddenly seemed too small. Kate returned to her seat in the stern and tried to do what she’d done for a week. She tried to ignore the six feet two of ruggedly handsome male in front of her.
But as Sam had said moments ago, it wasn’t working.
“Kate…”
She held up a palm. “Please, Sam. We’ve said more than enough. Let’s just get back to the boat.”
This time he didn’t argue. He slicked the water from his chest and arms with his palms, completely unselfconscious about being half-naked. Without another word he took the oars, spun the dinghy around to point out of the cavern and rowed across the cove to their anchored sloop.
The moment they had secured the lifeboat over the stern and stowed their gear, Kate headed for the cabin. But before she could reach the cockpit Sam stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. “Wait,” he said.
“I need to get on the radio and check in,” she said almost desperately. She had to establish distance between them. She had to focus on her duty to keep the memories—and the doubts—at bay. They had to get back to the base before they dug up more things better left buried.
“This will only take a minute.” Sam transferred his grip to her shoulders and gently turned her to face away from him. There was the click of an opening stud and the rasp of a zipper.
“Sam! What are you doing?”
“Trying to get my hand into my pocket.” He grunted. “This wet denim is like glue. Couldn’t get my hand inside unless I opened my fly, and I didn’t want to try this on the dinghy or you might have tried to jump overboard again.”
She felt her breath stop. He was already half-naked. Now he was unfastening the only garment he wore. And he was standing right behind her, close enough for her to sense every whisper of motion. She closed her eyes, but she could all too easily picture how the sun would be gleaming off his moist skin, how each ridged muscle would tighten with his movements, how pale and slim her hand would look as she caressed his body…
No. It was over. Gone. She could control this. She had to.
“Got it. Hang on a minute.” The zipper rasped closed. A moment later he turned her around to face him and held out his hand.
A fine gold chain was draped between his fingers. A gold butterfly glinted in the center of his palm.
Kate’s heart was pounding so hard it took her a moment to realize what he was showing her. When she did, she felt a surge of warmth that had nothing to do with sexual awareness. “Oh, Sam.” She reached out to touch her fingertip to one of the butterfly wings. “You found it, after all.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry about the broken chain, but I think it can be fixed.”
She couldn’t move, caught by the image of his large, strong hand holding her delicate necklace. Her throat grew tight with a sudden lump of emotion. This was too much. The man who had created a baby with her, a precious and fleeting life, now held the symbol of it.
He ducked his head to catch her gaze. “I thought you’d be happy.”
She didn’t know what she was. Right now, she was too mixed up to analyze it. She clasped her hand over his and lifted her face. “Thank you, Sam.”
“You’re welcome, Kate.”
And then, as naturally as drawing her next breath, she stretched up and kissed him.
Chapter 8
It was like coming home. Something familiar, something treasured but left behind. Something she hadn’t known was precious until it was gone.
Only Kate had never really had a home. There had been a neat split-level house in the Miami suburbs that her mother had kept spotless and tastefully decorated. Her father had worked himself into a heart attack to avoid spending time in it. A home should have been warm and welcoming, but that house wasn’t. It had been brittle, the atmosphere charged with the tension of impending arguments. Eventually the arguments had ceased altogether, not because things got better but because her parents had simply given up and stopped talking.
Kate had grown up with one ambition—to leave. She wanted to leave that house and that life as far behind as she could. And so the Navy had become her family. Each time she packed her bags to move to another base, she left that soulless split-level further behind and proved she would never be trapped in a marriage like her parents.
No, she’d never really known a home.
Then why did Sam’s kiss make her think of one?
She pulled back her head to look at him.
He smiled slowly, his eyes sparkling in a way that was achingly familiar. Treasured. Left behind.
Kate trembled. Now was the time to stop. She could claim the kiss was just from gratitude. It wasn’t too late. She could pretend—
“Again,” Sam said.
“What?”
“You did it again.” He slipped his free hand into her hair, combing it from her temple with his fingers. “One of these days, Kate, I’m going to be the one to kiss you first.”
“But—”
“Shh.” He cupped the back of her head to hold her steady as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Duty, reason, memory, everything logical and reasonable was screaming alarms in her head, but she didn’t want to listen. She closed her eyes and met him halfway.
The only music was the soft beat of the waves against the hull and the whistle of the breeze in the rigging, but Kate could have sworn she heard a saxophone.
The magic hadn’t dimmed. It was as potent now as it had been before.
That was why Kate had struggled so hard against it.
And that was why she found it impossible to resist.
His lips slid across hers in a caress as soft as a sigh. He didn’t hurry, yet he didn’t give her a chance to retreat. It was an exploration and a reminder, coaxing her to respond.
She did. Heaven help her, she did. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He tasted of salt from the sea and a dark, heavy thirst that wouldn’t be quenched by a kiss. Kate felt his hand tighten in her hair as his tongue stroked hers, and she swayed against him, pressing her body full-length to his.
His skin was damp and his cutoffs still dripping wet. Kate could feel the water soak into her tank top and shorts, but she didn’t care. After a week of watching him, she was finally touching. And she couldn’t get enough.
How could she have forgotten how well they fit together? His angles to her curves, his strength to her softness was so… right, it was as if she belonged here.
The necklace slipped from between their hands and fell to the deck unnoticed. Kate slid her arms around Sam, cupping her palms to the curve of his shoulder blades and splaying her fingers as if she could absorb him.
How could she have forgotten how good he felt beneath her hands? His skin was sleek and hot, stretched tight over muscle that had been hardened by years of dangerous missions. He craved adventure, he thrived on freedom, but that didn’t seem to matter to her now. Not when he was in her arms at last.
He