Chapter 1

      His lips were hot. His tongue licking against hers like flames raging and spurting with energy. Samantha DeSaunters moved her head slightly and he went deeper, his strong hands covering the skin left bare by the low cut of her dress. She felt like she was falling. No, he was tilting her back, leaning into the kiss with as much fervor and...dare she say, desire, as she had felt bubbling up from the pit of her belly.

      The world around her ceased to exist as he nibbled on her bottom lip, just long enough for her to catch a breath before he delved deep once more. Her lipstick was done. Her hair, the careful topple of curls that had taken her maid Lucie an hour to arrange, was going to be a complete disaster. And she was certain—as was part of her ingenious plan—that everyone was staring at them.

      Well, she hadn’t actually wanted everyone to see. Just Morty Javis and his persistent and unwelcomed advances.

      She still wasn’t one hundred percent certain that doing what she had done was the best idea. Especially considering all eyes in Grand Serenity and a few of the neighboring islands were on her and the entire DeSaunters family right now. That’s what happened when there were several attempts on the lives of the royal family, one of which was an explosion at the palace six weeks ago. The act of terror had injured sixteen people who had been innocently attending the annual Ambassador’s Ball.

      He was taking a step back now, his lips still on hers as he brought them both to an upright position. He pulled away slowly. So slowly Sam felt like she might have actually been following him to keep the contact going. When she opened her eyes, she found him already staring at her.

      Dark brown eyes, bushy brows and slightly parted lips of medium thickness really had her thinking about going in for a second kiss. She didn’t. It was time to get her thoughts in line, if not her traitorous body, which wanted to stay right there in this man’s arms enjoying more of his kisses and possibly whatever else he had to offer. But acting on that thought would end up embarrassing them both.

      Instead she flattened her palms against the lapels of his suit jacket and prepared to step away. He held her firmly, halting her exit plan.

      “Excuse me,” she said, her voice low, a tentative smile in place.

      He didn’t even blink but instead asked, “Is that what you normally say after kissing a complete stranger?”

      “I—” she started to reply when Morty tapped him on the shoulder.

      “Do you know who you’ve just accosted? I’ve taken the liberty of calling the palace guards, Your Highness,” Morty spat.

      “This is Princess Samantha DeSaunters. Her father will certainly have you jailed for daring to put your hands on her in such a familiar way, especially in this public forum.”

      Morty continued to talk as he reached for Sam’s arm. That’s when things shifted.

      The man’s hand clenched Morty’s wrist only seconds before his fingers could touch Sam’s bare skin. The glare he gave was serious and intimidating as hell. Even Sam’s heart skipped a beat at the intensity transmitted through a simple gaze.

      “I’ll take good care of the princess,” he said, his voice deep and raspy.

      “Guards!” Morty yelled.

      Three guards appeared at that moment and everyone in the room that had not already been staring at them was definitely on alert now.

      “Wait a minute...” Sam started to say. “I can explain.”

      “There is no need, Your Highness,” Morty told her.

      The man kept his hold on her, even when the guards approached. Sam was definitely concerned now. After the explosion, her father and brothers had been adamant about increasing the palace security. She, thankfully, had been left out of most of those meetings.

      It wasn’t for lack of concern, her brother Kris had told her. As Grand Serenity’s goodwill ambassador, it was imperative that she have a genuine smile and authentic enthusiasm for their island and the royal family at all times. If she were privy to all the safety issues and precautions, they feared she might not be as inviting to tourists or as engaging with the press. Without tourists, Grand Serenity’s economy would suffer.

      Was she offended by their logic? No, because she didn’t have time to be. This was not only her job, but her life, and Sam took both very seriously.

      So what the hell had she been thinking by walking up to this guy—regardless of how ruggedly handsome he was—and kissing him in front of everyone attending the Caribbean Counsel dinner? Her gears were already switching toward damage control.

      Her smile came quickly, naturally, as she touched the guy’s arm and laughed jovially.

      “Don’t be silly, Morty. There’s no need for the guards, especially since they already know—”

      She’d intended to say his name then say something to the effect of him being an old friend, but she hadn’t had the chance to learn that detail about him quite yet.

      “No, darling, they don’t know yet. Remember we decided to keep this our little secret,” he interrupted.

      The guards stood a couple feet away, each making eye contact with him but not coming any farther.

      He didn’t smile, but he did pull her closer to him.

      Sam kept her smile intact, no matter how many questions were suddenly soaring through her mind.

      “I would like to know what is going on,” Morty stated, his shoulders squared, dark eyes zooming in on her.

      “It’s simple,” the guy answered for her yet again. “Long-distance relationships suck. Which is why we’ve decided to stop hiding. Isn’t that right, darling?”

      “That’s...absolutely right...dear,” Sam managed to reply.

      When he’d pulled her close she’d slipped an arm around his waist, her other hand flat against his chest. She leaned her head in closer as she realized they were definitely the center of attention and, just as she smiled brighter, a camera flashed. Then another and another and, before she knew what was happening, guests were clapping, the guards had disappeared and Morty looked like a cartoon character about to explode with fury.

      * * *

      If someone had told Gary Montgomery a year ago, or hell, even an hour ago, that he’d be in a delicious lip-lock with the princess of Grand Serenity Island, he would have called them a bold-faced liar.

      Now, half an hour after the kiss, when his body was still simmering with need and his hand was still firmly on her hip, he told himself he’d done what he’d had to do. There had been no other choice. It was for the job. Yes, definitely for the sake of the job and nothing more.

      “Darling Samantha, I am so excited for you,” a woman Gary had earlier identified as Jacqueline Mahair, spoke enthusiastically.

      Prime Minister Obari Mahair ruled a much smaller island south of the Bahamas. He was a seventy-five-year-old man with a protruding stomach and wiry gray hair. His wife was much more glamorous with her large, expressive eyes; plump, glossy-red-coated lips; and waist-length blond curls. The professional boob and butt job, however, was not so cleverly masked in a black dress that hugged her like a second skin. But her assets weren’t nearly as loud a statement as Jacqueline’s high-pitched, twenty-three-year-old voice with its distinct Southern twang.

      “I, for one, would