The Royal's Obsession (9 page)

“So the
Wild Waves
isn't your favorite?” she teased, but he answered her with a thoughtful look on his face.

“The
Wild Waves
is a vessel that demands to be shared,” Augustine said finally. “I designed it with luxury in mind and plenty of space, and though I have sailed it with just myself and the crew, it needs a lively group to make it really sing.”

“You should get married on it someday,” she said impulsively. “It's perfect for a party.”

He laughed a little, and there was something caustic in his tone that made her look up in surprise.

“When I get married, I think it will be a very public affair. Lots of people, lots of press. I'm not sure that I could get away with something like Apolo and Trinity did.”

After almost accidentally getting married on national television for their reality show, Apolo and Trinity had married on a small private beach with only their nearest and dearest.

“They did what they pleased, and then they went to a press event,” Anastasia said thoughtfully. “I suppose you could do the same…”

“Perhaps. Are you done here? There are still parts of Nicea that I wish you to see.”

They cleaned up the oyster shells, and she followed him back to the changing rooms. The clothes that they had hung up before were dry, and Anastasia felt a sense of peace overtake her as she walked with Augustine back towards the resort itself.

Nicea lived up to its reputation as a luxurious resort, one that was nearly unmatched in all the world. Even as used to luxury as she was, Anastasia was a little overwhelmed by everything the resort had to offer. She studied the list of spa services on offer.

“What in the world is a crystal alignment?” she wondered out loud, and Augustine shook his head.

“What Nicea does, it does well. Here, will you allow me to choose for you?”

Anastasia hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Sure. I'll defer to your better judgment.”

“Good.”

He walked up to the counter and had a quiet conversation with the woman behind it. After a moment, the woman nodded knowingly and picked up the phone, speaking urgently.

When Augustine came back to her side, she eyed him suspiciously. “Just what are you getting me in to?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“I'm sure you will enjoy yourself,” he said, and then a young woman showed up to guide her off.

“I'll meet you when you’re done!” he called. “Enjoy yourself!”

What followed was impressive even by Anastasia's standards. She was used to the exotic and impressive beauty and relaxation techniques available in Manhattan, and still she was impressed.

Her experience began with a massage that stopped just short of being painful, and when she was recovering from that, a pair of women came to wrap her in fresh green fronds of what looked like seaweed. She might have protested, but the green wraps around her body felt cool and soothing after her massage. As she lay back on a naturally contoured marble bench, a woman came to apply a soothing gel to her face, massaging slightly as she did so. A cool gel pillow was placed over her eyes, and she sank into the restful darkness. She felt her body lose tension she had not even been aware that she had. As she lay in the darkness, she felt people moving around her, taking care of her hands and her feet.

It was pure and utter luxury, and a part of her wondered at the fact that it was Augustine who had given it to her. The thought of him suffused her body with a pleasant warmth, one that contained both sweetness and desire.

She realized that Augustine wasn't like the other men she had known, the ones that her parents had pushed her towards in New York. Those men took their money and their power, and then they used them only for their own gratification. Sometimes, she was certain that they only approached her because her own wealth meant that they would not have to share.

Augustine was different. He was self-deprecating about the story that he had told her about his youth. She could imagine what a nightmare he was before he went sailing with his family's friend. What a change it must have been when he came back. How grown-up he would have seemed, and how far beyond what he was when he left.

“The woman who marries him is going to be very lucky,” she said out loud.

“Did you say something, miss?” asked the unseen woman who was working on her hand.

Anastasia blushed, sure that she was heating the layer of gel that was slathered so generously across her face.

“No, not at all,” she said self-consciously. “Don't mind me…”

She told herself that it was not her business who he married or did not marry. The thought lodged itself like an arrow under her heart, though. She imagined the faceless woman who would walk to meet him on that joyous day. Would that woman know about his months at sea? Would she know how much he wanted to get married on the water? Surely she would.

And waiting for her back in New York, was there another man who would understand her so well? Would he be someone who could look out over the ocean just as she could and see a gift to all of humanity?

It was too much. She tried to make herself relax against the marble again. She willed the coolness and stillness of the stone to come up through her, pass around her. It worked, sort of.

Some measureless time later, she heard the hiss of water jets as the spa workers began rinsing her off and peeling off the fronds of seaweed. When they had her stand up, they flipped a switch that began a rain shower that cleaned her thoroughly.

She hadn't been sure what to expect, but when she examined herself under the water, she found that her skin was amazingly soft and supple. She felt as light as sea foam, as free as a feather lofted above by the sea breezes.

Anastasia was just looking around for her clothes when one of the women stopped her.

“There is a wrap for you, miss, to help finish the process.”

To her surprise, the wrap was simply a large piece of nearly transparent silk. It was soft and weightless, and she watched as they wound it around her body. It was pinned at her shoulders, leaving her arms free, and belted at her waist, falling around her form in graceful folds. When she glanced at herself in the mirror, she looked like a maiden of ancient Greece.

“All I need is an urn,” she said in amusement.

“Funny you should mention that,” said the woman who had been dressing her.

Anastasia laughed when she was offered a small urn containing what she was told was exceptional olive oil. She carried it along the passage that was indicated and when she opened the door at the end of it, she found Augustine waiting for her.

He looked as relaxed as she did, and while he wasn't wearing a Greek robe, he did sport white silk drawstring pants and a short robe that was left open. Lounging on one of the long couches around a small table, his robe draped open to reveal the bronzed width of his chest.

“So I take it you're my evening's entertainment?” he asked, amused.

She laughed, coming over to set the olive oil down on the table close to the couch. “A dancing girl? I'm afraid not. Unless you mean someone who can just barely remember the basics of the fox trot.”

“I don't know,” he said looking her up and down. “There are plenty of entertainments that I can imagine that don't have anything to do with you dancing.”

“Or being upright? As a matter of fact, so can I.”

Just as she bent down to kiss him, however, there was a brisk knock at the door. For a moment, she could tell that Augustine was seriously considering sending them away, but then he shook his head with a sigh.

“Enter.”

A pair of women entered, carrying a tray full of food to set down on the table. She longed to kiss Augustine, she found that her stomach was rumbling after she smelled the fresh baked bread, the roast lamb and the salty olives.

“This is an amazing place,” she said, sitting on the couch next to Augustine's. “I wonder if I could come back in the future.”

“It's very exclusive, I'm afraid,” said Augustine apologetically. “Membership is strictly restricted to ensure that it does not become over-crowded. My family is one of the few with regular open access.”

Anastasia made a good-natured face. “Oh, that sounds about right,” she said regretfully. “No problem. There are places in the US I like a great deal. Nicea is just so lovely.”

“You could come back with me at some point,” he said casually, making Anastasia laugh.

“That's terribly sweet of you, but I know what our arrangement is. That would be a bit of an imposition on you, and that's the last thing that I want…”

“Well, it wouldn't be an imposition at all if you made it worth my while.”

Shocked, she turned to see that he was watching her with a sly grin on his face.

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?” she asked, a bit of color in her cheeks.

He shrugged elaborately, never taking his eyes from her. If he were another man, she would be beyond insulted. Implying that she would trade sexual favors for something like a resort membership was sleazy, but somehow when he said it, there was something exciting about it as well.

Well, two could play that game, she decided.

She tapped her finger against her full lips thoughtfully, pretending she wasn't aware of the wolfish way he was watching her.

“I suppose you're thinking of something downright inappropriate,” she said huskily. “Something that a proper lady would slap you for.”

“Aren't you a proper lady?” he asked, and she warmed to hear a tremor in his voice.

“Most of the time,” she said, rising from her seat to come nestle close to him. “The rest of the time…maybe I am something different.”

While there was something wary in the way that he looked at her, she could tell that his common sense was being swiftly overwhelmed by need.

He reached out a gentle hand to trace down her cheek, and she pulled back out of reach, a slight smile on her face.

“I guess I would want to know what you thought I was worth. Perhaps I want to know what you are going to do for me.”

He started to respond, but she pressed her hand against the center of his chest, pushing him to lie back on the couch.

“I'd want to know what I could do for you too. Maybe I would feed you while you simply lay back like a Roman emperor…”

She reached for an olive so black it nearly looked blue. With delicate fingers, she brought it to Augustine's lips. When he took the morsel from her, she touched his lips with the pads of her fingers gently before pulling away.

“Perhaps I would warm you at night…”

This time, Augustine couldn't resist a groan when she stretched out half on top of his powerful body. She delighted in the play of his muscles underneath her and at the way that he seemed to be rendered helpless by her slight weight. She knew that he was strong enough to push her off and to roll her underneath him, but at the moment, he seemed utterly bewitched by her words.

“In the night, of course, I would kiss you…all…over…”

She brushed a dozen light kisses down his chest, marveling at the taste of him and the shiver she could feel through his body. There was something incredible about the fact that this powerful man was so intent on her that he was completely trapped.

“Or of course I'll just go to my parents’ favorite resort off the Gulf Coast,” she said brightly, hopping away back to her own couch.

It took Augustine a moment to readjust to what had happened. He blinked owlishly at her, and Anastasia couldn't help laughing.

“It's a lovely place,” she said earnestly, “with beautiful views and a full service staff. Amazing catering, and just one of my favorite places in the world to go!”

“You,” Augustine said slowly, “are a little brat!”

“I just like exploring my options,” Anastasia said. “After all, I'm sure you've never been to the resort I'm talking about. Maybe I should bring you there at some point.”

He stood, and there was a glitter in his eyes that made her blush more than she had before.

“Oh really?” he said. “And what shall I have to do to pay my way?”

He stepped closer to her, coming to sit down beside her. Now it was her turn to be pushed down to the couch. He loomed over her, smoothing her hair back from her face. He was deceptively casual; the heat that streaked through him called to her, and she knew that whatever he proposed, she was going to accept.

“I want to make sure that I don't come off as some poor relation,” he continued. “I want to make sure that you feel fully compensated for the trouble it takes to bring me to the United States…”

Her laugh was quickly cut off by a hard kiss. She moaned into his mouth, throwing her arms around him. She had been just as affected by her joke as he was, and now he was kissing her and touching her exactly as she had imagined him doing.

As he whispered what he would do for her in her ear, making her blush and laugh by turns, his hands pushed her robe aside. His touch trailed fire up her legs, and then, when he found the heart of her desire, they both stopped talking and began to moan instead…

Chapter Six

“You look happy,” Trinity commented a few days later. “I think getting you away from New York is doing the trick.”

Anastasia looked up, surprised. She had been sipping her fruit juice, gazing over the railing at another gorgeous Mediterranean sunset. She hadn't been thinking of much of anything as she did it, but Trinity's words brought her up short.

“I suppose I am happy,” she said in surprise. “I know that I've never felt this relaxed before.”

“You could extend your visit,” Trinity suggested. “I have a small part in a Greek film that I’ll be shooting two weeks after we finish up this trip. I can always use the company when I'm on location and Apolo can't be with me.”

For a moment, Anastasia was tempted. She could put off the return to New York. With every day that passed, her life there felt more and more like a distant dream. She could follow her talented friend to a movie shoot, and perhaps, just perhaps, she could see more of Augustine. At the thought of her lover, she hesitated.

“I don't know,” she hedged. “There's…too much of a good thing, you know? I have a whole life waiting for me back in New York.”