California Royale

  She watched, transfixed, as he undid her jeans and hooked his fingers into the waistband. With infinite care he stripped the last of her clothes away, then knelt beside her again, his eyes roaming over her slowly, as if her body were a map he wanted to memorize at first sight.

  “Exquisita,” he told her gruffly. He put a hand on her flat, quivering, stomach and stroked downward to the golden curls between her thighs. Shea made small sounds of encouragement over the way his touch directed heat and tension to gather low in her body. She stiffened, trying not to lose control completely.

  “Don’t hold back,” he whispered hoarsely. “Don’t be a lady. Be my woman, and let your body show me how good my touch feels.”

  With a low moan of agreement, she arched to meet his gentle, provocative touch. With a suddenness that surprised them both, she shook wildly and tossed her head from side to side. Waves of pure bliss flowed through her, and dimly she heard his voice urging her on. He took her face between his hands and kissed her as she drew deep breaths.

  When he sat back on his heels and began fumbling hurriedly with his jeans she raised up, her hair disheveled, her body trembling. “No!” she cried. “Let me. Please, Alejandro, let me.”

  He gave her a smile of muted frustration and great tenderness, then stretched out on his back and shut his eyes tightly. His chest rose in a harsh, deep rhythm as she undressed him, and he clenched his hands into fists. Shea whispered words of praise as she revealed all of him to the summer day and her adoring eyes.

  “You’re not a mustang,” she said, and her voice broke with the sweet agony of wanting him. “You’re a Thoroughbred, inside and out, Alejandro. Amante.” The word meant “lover.”

  He moaned, then pulled her to him. She nestled by his side, her hand caressing his body lightly, almost in a soothing way when it embraced the hard, pulsing length of him. Duke knew that he should make an effort to cool his body down so that there would be no hurry, but he was too far gone. He called Shea’s name and turned her to lay on her back again. He covered her with his body and she slipped both strong, golden legs around his hips. He braced himself over her and deliberately, desperately, kept himself from entering her.

  “It’s all right,” she said in an urgent, loving tone. “It will be fast this time, Alejandro. We both know that. Don’t suffer. Come here. Come here, sweetheart …”

  The endearment was more than his restraint could bear, and he thrust quickly into her warmth. She bathed him in the damp, tight secrets of her body, and he thrust again, harder. “Oh, querida, you feel wonderful,” he said raspily. Duke forced himself to be still and savor the incredible welcome she had given him. He studied her violet eyes, afraid that the first moment had been too rough.

  “You feel wonderful too,” she told him breathlessly, and he relaxed. In her eyes he saw happiness and something more—a pure adoration that he’d never found in another woman’s gaze.

  He started carefully, using deep, slow movements to test her reaction and the limits of his control. To his delight and amazement her body writhed and she tilted her head back, gasping in soft breaths. Her hands crept to his shoulder and held fiercely, as if she were afraid that she might fall off the edge of the world.

  “Again?” she asked hoarsely, sounding surprised at her response. Then she smiled tremulously, mixed his name in a ragged moan, and whispered, “Oh, yes, again.”

  Tears stung Duke’s eyes as he felt her pleasure released a second time, as it encompassed him and made him groan. He was strong and invincible; he knew that he could give this incredible woman as much happiness as she gave him.

  He buried his face in her hair and let control slip away from him as he plunged into her with tender wildness. His arms snaked under her and clasped her tightly. She put her cheek against his face and urged him on with small sounds of delight. Shaken to the soul, burned and reborn a much better man than before, Duke called her name as his world exploded in sensation.

  She held him possessively as their breathing slowed, and he would rather have died than leave the harbor of her body. He nuzzled the side of her neck, drew a trail of kisses upward, and touched his lips to her smile. She seemed to radiate light and joy as she looked up at him.

  He wanted so badly to say that he loved her, but he thought the words might worry her. Duke winced inwardly with the effort of not revealing what he felt, but he forced himself to smile, to hide his inner struggle.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “There’s absolutely no point in denying it any longer. And I don’t want to deny it. I love you, Alejandro.”

  Duke stared down at her in amazement, wondering if she could read his mind. Then he grasped her face between his hands. “It took courage to admit that,” he murmured tenderly. “Now you have to let me love you in return.”

  “I’ll try, Alejandro, I’ll really try.”

  With those heartfelt words as a promise, they hugged each other tightly.

  Six

  It was so good, better than meditation, even better than a runner’s high, Shea admitted with a dreamy smile. And it was so simple. All she had to do was float here in Duke’s private pool, her body enclosed in his strong, loving arms, her back against his broad chest. He sat on the pool’s lowest step so that the water covered them both from the shoulders down. She lazed in his lap as if he were a luxurious masculine chair.

  They’d made certain that the cottage’s atmosphere was conducive to complete relaxation, with soft, slow music on the stereo system. The pool was shadowy, lit only by the light of a small lamp by the bed. Duke’s warm breath touched her cheek and ear as he nuzzled her.

  “Sleeping?” he asked softly.

  “Hypnotized,” she replied. He chuckled, and his hands returned to the job of stroking her stomach. His chest hair was a tickling, silky delight against her back, and his powerful thighs flexed under her as he shifted. Shea sighed happily. “Now I understand why guests pay such exorbitant amounts of money to rent the cottages that have pools,” she admitted. “This feels fantastic. You feel fantastic.”

  His voice was devilish and seductive. “After last night, I was water-logged. But happy. Incredibly happy.”

  “We shouldn’t have stayed in the pool for three hours.”

  “Ah, querida, but the time flew.”

  “Oh, yes.” She twisted her head so that she could look up at him and smiled, for which she received a long, delicious kiss. His hand moved over her breasts, causing the water to undulate around them. He rubbed her nipples until he was satisfied that they could grow no harder. “Me too,” she murmured in a haze of pleasure.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Incredibly happy. Me too.” She stretched languidly as he ran one hand under her. “You’re quite forward, sir,” Shea teased. “Why, how dare you touch me there?”

  He growled with comical lechery. “How about there?”

  “That’s even more impolite!” Shea slipped a hand behind her. “You see, hombre, I can be impolite too.” Her breath paused in her throat as she gently grasped him. He was an amazing man, so tender and unhurried, but always so ready to make love to her.

  “So this is the culprit,” she whispered throatily while her fingers explored with wanton intent. “I wondered if perhaps a sea monster had gotten into your pool and was bumping me with its nose.”

  “It is a sea monster, and it’s looking for a cave.”

  Chuckling, he sank a little and cupped his body further under hers. Shea quivered as the hard, smooth length of him nestled between her thighs.

  When he hugged her, she tilted her head back in order to nuzzle his hair, then angled her hips so that it was impossible for their bodies to remain separate. With a quick movement, she surrounded him.

  “Why, why, what kind of boy do you think I am?” he protested in a low, rumbling voice. When she tantalized him by rolling her hips forward and back, he said huskily. “If you don’t stop that, I think … I think I’ll … smile.”

  Shea gasped as his body strained upwards,
carrying heat and desire to her core. The time for teasing was past. “Alejandro,” she whispered. “I need you so much. I need you again.”

  Groaning, he clasped her to him harshly, holding her as if she were a prisoner. With great care he took small bites at the back of her neck, and her legs writhed helplessly against his. “More,” she begged.

  Duke knew then that he was the prisoner, not she, because nothing could ever make him leave this sweet, wild woman who arched her back and cried out from the uninhibited pleasure they shared. Seconds later, just as the world fell away from both of them, she grasped his hand tightly and he whispered to her that they were friends as well as lovers.

  Afterwards they collapsed, smiling and quiet, on his bed. They rubbed each other with thick bath towels, then snuggled chest to chest. Duke draped one long leg over her, and she nestled a leg between his muscular thighs.

  “I feel as if I’ve loved you forever,” she murmured, her mouth brushing his.

  “You have. You just didn’t know it until two weeks ago.”

  Shea stroked his angular cheek. “You have poetry in your soul, Alejandro.”

  “No, sweet, you’ve got the poetry. I’m going to absorb all your grace and class the way the desert soaks up rain, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get a little civilized.”

  “Hope not.” Shea smiled, but a knot worked in the back of her throat. “I already miss you,” she told him in a small distressed tone.

  They had, until this moment, avoided discussing the fact that he would be leaving for his ranch in two days. Business demanded that he return; he had a multimillion-dollar racing stable to run. “Come with me,” he said firmly.

  “For the weekend?”

  “Forever.”

  Shea raised herself on one elbow and studied him with wide eyes. Forever. She liked the sound of that word, but not the implications for the estate. “I have to manage Estate Mendocino. The owner is very difficult, but I adore him and don’t want to bungle his investment.”

  “I hereby promote you to executive manager. Now you promote someone to be manager, and let that person handle day-to-day details.”

  She paled. “Alejandro … no … don’t do this.…”

  He interrupted her flustered words with a weary nod. “It was just wishful thinking. I know how dear this place is to you. I wouldn’t force you to turn it over to another manager. You’d never forgive me, and I couldn’t stand that.”

  Shea joined her mouth to his as completely as their bodies had been joined earlier and poured all her loving appreciation into the kiss.

  “Southern California isn’t so far from northern California,” she whispered when their lips parted. “We’ll see a lot of each other. You can count on it.” Tears filled her eyes, and she felt a tremor in the smile she gave him. “But it is going to be awfully dull here after you leave.”

  He raised his finger and smoothed away the dampness on her lower lashes. “You haven’t asked me any more about my plans for the estate. Why?”

  She gave him a sad, wistful look. “I didn’t want to spoil what we’ve had for the past two days.” She hesitated, looking uncomfortable. “And … maybe I feel that I don’t have a right to question you, since I made the first move the other day …”

  “In the forest, you mean?” She nodded. “Querida, it was inevitable that you and I become lovers. It doesn’t matter which of us made the first move.”

  “Our life together is fated, hmmm?” She caressed his black hair and smiled tenderly at him.

  He searched her eyes for a moment, his expression somber. “I’m a betting man, Shea. And I’ve made a lot of money in a business that depends on intuition and hunches. Could be that I’m a little bit psychic. All I know is that you and I clicked the minute we met. That’s never happened to me before.”

  “Or to me,” she assured him.

  “Palomino,” he murmured, “I’m not going to ruin the estate. Do you want to know what I’m planning? All right—”

  “No.” She put her hand over his mouth for a second and shook her head. Fear rushed through her, fear that his words were going to ruin this blissful interlude. “Not tonight,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about it until tomorrow, so let’s wait.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment, and he saw the desperation in her eyes. “All right, querida. Roll over on your stomach.”

  She did as he asked, then Duke adjusted the pillow under her head and spent a minute caressing her damp, golden hair. He propped on one elbow and began to stroke her back soothingly. He let his callused fingers glide over her from neck to rump and back again, his movements slow and steady.

  “There, now,” he murmured in a cajoling tone. “I have to make you relax, Palomino, so that you’ll talk to me. Tell me why this estate is such a sanctuary for you.”

  He felt her back muscles tense and he bore down on them gently, then rubbed each vertebra of her spine with his thumb. She shivered and let go, sinking deeper into the mattress.

  “I like to pretend that the whole world is as peaceful and happy as this estate,” she said finally, her voice muffled. “I like being sheltered here. I know that’s not admirable. I know I’m avoiding the harsher realities of life. But … but dammit, I grew up with those realities. I was poor. I was lonely. I was …” No she thought suddenly. Now was not the time to tell him just how ugly her childhood had been. Someday, but not now. “I was unhappy,” she finished. “Sweetheart, don’t blame me for caring so much about the estate. It’s my home.”

  He cupped her shoulder and shook her lightly. “I don’t blame you,” he said gently, and returned to rubbing her back. “But what do you want from your life, querida? Nothing but to spend your spare time exercising your pretty body to even more perfection?” He sighed. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you gained weight.”

  She laughed softly. “You’re kidding, but I love you for it.”

  “No, really. I can picture you ten years from now, with laugh lines on your face, your body voluptuous … I believe, Palomino, that you’ll be even more beautiful as you get older.”

  Words from her childhood echoed in Shea’s mind for one tormenting second: Hell, you’ll grow out of it. You’re not ugly, even if you are sort of fat. God knows where you got the weight. From your damned father, not from me, that’s for sure.

  Shea shut her eyes, and the vivid recollection faded. “Alejandro Araiza,” she whispered brokenly, “you’re attitude is duly appreciated, but the only time I’ll weigh more than I do now is when I’m pregnant.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  They were both silent for a moment, absorbing the tingling implications of his remark. “Do you like children?” she asked softly.

  “Reckon so. Never been around many. How about you?”

  “Reckon so,” she mimicked. “Never been around many.”

  “Maybe we could learn about babies together someday.”

  Shea turned over and looked up at him with glowing eyes. “Your hints aren’t subtle, Alejandro.”

  His gaze unwavering, he answered very softly, “Sí.”

  She was beginning to realize that he used Spanish to convey his most personal feelings. Pointing at him, she whispered, “El padre.” Then she pointed to herself. “La madre.” She smiled tenderly. “I like the way that sounds.”

  Duke had no more words to express his deep sense of love for her; neither Spanish nor English would do justice to the feeling that he was perfectly whole for the first time in his life. She watched his expression, saw his struggle, then reached up with one graceful hand and touched his lips. She shook her head and smiled in a way that said she understood.

  “Sweet dreams, hombre.”

  “Sweet dreams, querida Palomino.”

  Duke turned the lamp off, then lay back and let her pull the sheet and bedspread over them. She slipped into his outstretched arms and put her head on his shoulder. Tomorrow and its problems waited an eternity away.

  “Boss, Mr. Araiza is here
.”

  Despite her nervousness, Shea smiled wryly at Jennie’s words. “Mr. Araiza” sounded strangely formal, as if it couldn’t be the name of the man who’d wakened her this morning by sprinkling bran flakes on her naked chest. A healthy breakfast starts the day off right, he’d explained, and then he’d licked them off her quivering skin, one flake at a time.

  “Tell him to come right in, Jennie.”

  Shea stood, smoothing her hands over her bluejacket and plaid skirt. Her hands trembled, and she swallowed to relieve the tight feeling in her throat. The door opened and Duke walked in. He, too, was dressed for business—tan slacks, a crisp white shirt and dark tie, a light tweed sport coat. A gold tie bar gleamed on his collar, and cuff links made of gold nuggets shown on his shirt cuffs. She inhaled, a little breathless at the change in him. He was devastating but so different.

  Then he smiled, and Shea relaxed a little, seeing the reassurance in that smile.

  He shut the door lightly, walked over to her desk, and reached across to take her hands in his. “Blues and reds suit you, Ms. Somerton,” he said quaintly, eyeing the red blouse she’d coordinated with her outfit. “You create a very impressive business image.”

  “Your business image is quite impressive, also, Mr. Araiza.”

  He couldn’t resist a personal note. “I wish I’d insisted on walking you home this morning, so that I could watch you dress for work.”

  “I believe we’ve started enough rumors for one day. Several people on the staff were out for an early run. They saw me leave your cottage at dawn.”

  “Did they ask questions?”

  “No. They waved, looked embarrassed, and ran faster.”

  “So? We’ve got nothing to hide. The rules say staff and guests can’t mix. I’m not a guest.”

  Shea sighed. “When the time’s right, I’ll make a diplomatic announcement at a staff meeting.”

  “Just say, ‘I have great taste and I’ve fallen in love with the new owner. And he loves me.’ ”