His Thirty-Day Fiancee (10 page)

He traced her ribs, working his way down to her waist, over her stomach. Lower. He slid two fingers between them, slickening her taut bundle of aching nerves. She doubted she needed the help to finish, but enjoyed his talented touch all the same.

Carefully, precisely, he circled his thumb with the perfect pressure, taking her so close then easing back, only to nudge her closer.

She gasped out and didn’t care how loud. She simply rode the pulsations rocking through her. He gripped her hips again, his hold firmer as he thrust a final time. His completion echoed with hers, sending a second round of lights sparking behind her eyelids and cascading around her until she went limp in the aftermath.

Sagging on top of him, she sealed their sweat-slicked bodies skin to skin. His hands stroked over her hair, his chest pumping beneath hers. She should move and she would, as soon as her arms and legs worked again.

She gazed at him in the half light, her eyes taking in the strong features of his noble lineage. God, even here in his arms she couldn’t escape reminders of his heritage, his wealth. She was in so far over her head.

Being with him was different in a way she feared she could never recapture again. Would the rest of her life be spent as a second-best shadow?

And if he made this much of an impact in less than a week, how much more would he change her life if she dared spend the rest of the month with him?

Elbowing back the covers, he settled her on the carved four-poster bed and pulled the thick comforter over her. He eyed the door. He should check his messages and make plans for a morning flight out to see his father, but his feet stayed put.

The allure of watching Kate sleep was too strong. He sat on the edge of the bed,
his
bed. Her hair splayed over the plump pillow, and his hands curved at the memory of silky strands sliding between his fingers.

He’d gotten what he wanted. They’d slept together. He should be celebrating and moving on. Except from the moment he’d been buried inside her, he’d known. Just once with Kate wouldn’t be enough.

Already, he throbbed to have her again. The image of her bold and uninhibited over him replayed in his brain. He could watch her all night long.

Why hadn’t he told her about going to the island when she’d walked in the room? The truth itched up his spine. After their impulsive kiss in the elevator, he’d sensed they were close to acting on the attraction. But he’d needed her to want him as much as he wanted her. He’d offered her a free pass to walk with all her photos and held back telling her about his imminent trip to see his father.

Now he knew. There was no mistaking her response. And instead of making things easier, his thoughts became more convoluted.

Kate rolled to her back, arm flung out in groggy abandon. Her lashes fluttered and she stared up at him, her eyes still purple-blue with foggy passion. “What time is it?”

“Just after four in the morning.”

“Any further word about your father?” She sat up, sheet clutched to her chest her hair tumbling down her shoulders.

“Nothing new.” He swallowed hard at the thought of a world without his father’s imposing presence. Time to invite her into a private corner of his life ahead of schedule. “But I’m putting the rest of the trip around the U.S. on hold to see my father first…just in case.”

“That’s a good idea.” She squeezed his knee lightly. “You don’t want to have regrets from waiting.”

Resisting the urge to touch her proved impossible. He stroked a silken lock from her shoulder and lingered. As much as he wanted her here, he had to know. “My offer for you to take your pictures and walk away free and clear still stands.”

Her hand slid from his knee, her eyes wary. “Are you telling me to go?”

Exhaling hard, he gripped her shoulders. “Hell, no. I want you right where you are. But you need to know that when we leave for the island, your life will be changed forever. Becoming a part of the Medina circle alters the way people treat you, even after you walk away, and not always in a good way.”

Sheet still clutched to her chest, she studied him before answering. “I have one question.”

His gut clenched. Could he really follow through on letting her go while the scent of her still clung to his skin? “Okay, then. That would be?”

“What time do we leave?”

Relief slammed through him so hard he wondered again how this woman could have crawled under his skin so deeply in such a short time. Not that he intended to turn her away. In fact, he even had an idea of how to make her life at the island easier. “We’ll go in the morning, once the ice storm has cleared.”

Ten minutes after takeoff, she’d snapped photos of him, thinking the well-equipped aircraft with both a bedroom and an office would provide an interesting window into the Medina world. But she’d found her photographer’s eye less engaged with his surroundings. Instead she’d increasingly closed in on his face as if she could capture the essence of him just by looking. Too soon, seeing him through the lens hadn’t been enough and they’d reached for each other simultaneously, leaving their seats for the private bedroom. Yes, she was using sex to avoid thinking, and she suspected Duarte was, as well.

Tension rippled through his lean muscled body, and she could certainly empathize. Life had been spiraling out of control for her since they’d met.

And now they were winging to some unknown island. Shades covered all the windows so she didn’t know if they were traveling over land or water. Duarte had told her the clothes appropriate for the “warmer climate” would be waiting.

What a mess she’d made of things. How was she supposed to report on a man she’d slept with? Should she have taken his offer to walk away?

Her fingers curled around his bare hip, his body now so intimately familiar to her. How much longer could she avoid weightier issues?

Duarte sketched the furrows in her brow. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” she said. She wasn’t ready to let him know how being with him rocked her focus. Better to distract him. “I’ve never made love in a plane before.”

“Neither have I.” His fingers trailed from her brow to tap her nose. “You look surprised.”

“Because I am.” She expected this man had done all sorts of things she couldn’t imagine. “I would have thought during all those three-month relationships, you would have joined the mile-high club at some point.”

“You seem to have quite a few preconceived notions about me. I thought journalists were supposed to be objective.”

“I am. Most of the time. You’re just… Hell, I don’t know.”

He was different, but telling him that would give him too much power over her. Was she being unfair to Duarte out of her own fear? Was she making assumptions based on an image of a privileged playboy prince?

Swinging her feet off the bed, she plucked her underwear from floor.

Duarte stroked her spine. “Tell me about the man who broke your trust.”

“It’s not what you think.” She pulled on her panties and bra. Where was her dress? And why was she letting his question rattle her? “I haven’t had some wretched breakup or bad boyfriend.”

“Your father?” Duarte said perceptively as he pulled on his boxers.

Kate slipped her kimono-sleeve dress over her head and swept it smooth before facing Duarte again. “He isn’t an evil man or an abuser. He just…doesn’t care.” Parental indifference made for a deep kind of loneliness she couldn’t put to words. Only through her camera had she been able to capture the hollow echo. “It doesn’t matter so much for me, but Jennifer doesn’t understand. How could she? He cropped himself right out of the family picture.”

“Where is he now?” He stepped into his slacks and reached for his chambray shirt.

“He and his new wife have moved to Hawaii, where he can be sure not to bump into us.”

“The kind to send his checks as long as he doesn’t have to invest anything of himself?”

She stayed quiet, tugging on her leather knee boots.

His hand fell on her shoulder. “Your father does send help, right?”

Bitter words bubbled up her throat. “When Jennifer turned eighteen, he signed over his rights and all responsibility. They were going to put her in the state hospital since she can’t live on her own. I couldn’t let that happen, so I stepped in.”

Duarte sat beside her, taking her hand lightly, carefully. “Have you considered taking him to court?”

“Leave it alone.” She flinched away from him and the memories. “Bringing him back into her life only gives him the option to hurt her more than he already has. Jennifer and I will be fine. We’ll manage. We always do.”

Duarte cursed low. “Still, he should be helping with her care so you don’t have to climb around on ledges snapping photos to pay the bills.”

“I would do anything for her.”

“Even sleep with me.”

His emotionless voice snapped her attention back to his face. The coldness there chilled her skin. Confusion followed by shock rippled through her. Did he really believe she could be that calculating? Apparently what they’d shared wasn’t as special to him if he thought so poorly of her.

Hurt to the core, she still met his gaze dead-on. “I’m here now because I want to be.”

He didn’t back down, his face cool and enigmatic. “But would you have slept with me to take care of her?”

And she’d thought she couldn’t ache more. “Turn the plane around. I want to go back.”

“Hey, now—” he held up his hands “—I’m not judging you. I don’t know you well enough to make that call, which is why I’m asking questions in the first place.”

Some of the starch flaked from her spine. Hadn’t she thought the same thing herself, wondering about ways she may have misjudged him? “Fair enough.”

“Has your father called you because of the publicity surrounding your engagement?” he asked, his eyes dark and protective. “People develop all sorts of, uh, creative crises when they think they can gain access to a royal treasure trove.”

“I haven’t heard a word from him.” Although now that Duarte had given her the heads-up, she would be sure to let voice mail pick up if her father did phone. “Other than the obligatory holiday greeting, we haven’t heard so much as a ‘boo’ from him. I guess that’s better than having to explain his dropping in and out of our lives.”

His hand slid up into her hair, cradling her head. “Your sister is lucky to have you.”

“Jennifer and I are lucky to have each other.” Kate stood abruptly, refusing to be distracted by his seductive touch.

This conversation reminded her too well that they knew precious little about each other. She’d known her jerk of a father all her life and still she’d been stunned when he dumped his special-needs daughter without a backward glance. What hurtful surprises might lurk under Duarte’s handsome surface?

Watching her through narrowed eyes, Duarte pulled on his shoes and gestured her back toward the main cabin. “We’ll have to put this conversation on hold. We should be landing soon. Would you like your first glance of the island?”

“The secrecy ends?”

“Revealing the specific location isn’t my decision to make.” He opened the window shade.

Hungry for a peek at where Duarte had grown up, she buckled into one of the large leather chairs and stared outside. An island stretched in the distance, nestled in miles and miles of sparkling ocean. Palm trees spiked from the landscape, lushly green and so very different from the leafless snowy winter they’d left behind. A dozen or so small outbuildings dotted a semicircle around a larger structure, what appeared to be the main house.

A white mansion faced the ocean in a U shape, constructed around a large courtyard with a pool. Details were spotty but she would get an up-close view soon enough of the place where Enrique Medina had lived in seclusion for over twenty-five years, a gilded cage to say the least. Even from a distance, she couldn’t miss the grand scale of the sprawling estate, the unmistakable sort that housed royalty.

Engines whining louder, the plane banked, lining up with a thin islet alongside the larger island. A single strip of concrete marked the private runway, two other planes parked beside a hangar. As they neared, a ferry boat came into focus. To ride from the airport to the main island? They sure were serious about security. Duarte had said it wasn’t his secret to reveal. She thought of his father, a man who’d been overthrown in a violent coup. And his brothers, Carlos and Antonio, had a stake in this, as well. None of the Medina heirs had signed on for the royal life.

God, she missed the days when her job had been about providing valuable information to the public. It had been two years since she’d been in the trenches uncovering dirty politics and the nuances of complicated wars as opposed to shining a public flashlight on good people who had every right to their privacy.

The intercom system crackled a second before the pilot announced, “We’re about to begin our descent. Please return to your seats and secure your lap belts. Thank you, and we hope you had a pleasant flight.”

A glass-smooth landing later, she climbed on board the ferry that would transport them to the main island. Crisp sea air replaced the recycled oxygen in the jet cabin. Her camera bag slung over her shoulder, she recorded the images with her eyes for now. Duarte would call the shots on when she could snap photos. Her stomach knotted even though there wasn’t a wave in sight, a perfect day for boating. A dolphin led the way, fin slicing through the water, then submerging again.

An osprey circled over its nest and herons picked their way through sea oats along the shore like a pictorial feature straight out of
National Geographic.
Until you looked closer and saw the guard tower, the security cameras tucked in trees.

A guard waited on the dock, a gun strapped within easy reach to protect the small crowd gathered to greet them. She recognized the man and woman from recent coverage in the media. “That’s your youngest brother, Antonio, and his fiancée.”

Duarte nodded.

The wedding he had mentioned made perfect sense now. She’d started the ball rolling digging up information about the shipping magnate and his waitress mistress. But then they’d fallen off the map. Apparently Alys Cortez hadn’t shared everything she knew about the Medinas.

The brothers shared the same dark hair, although Antonio’s was longer with a hint of curl. Duarte had a lean runner’s build, whereas she would have pegged his brother as a former high school wrestler.

What sort of school experience would the young princes have had on a secluded island?

As the boat docked, she realized another couple waited with Tony and Shannon. Javier Cortez stood with a woman just behind him. They couldn’t possibly have permitted his cousin Alys to stay after she betrayed them. Although they allowed a reporter into their midst…

Duarte touched the small of her back as they walked down the gangplank. “There’s someone here to see you.”

She looked closer as Javier stepped aside and revealed—

Jennifer?

Disbelief rocked the plank under Kate’s feet. What was going on? She looked back at Duarte and he simply smiled as if it was nothing unusual to scoop her sister out of her protective home without consulting Kate. Not that Jennifer seemed to notice anything unusual about this whole bizarre day.

Jumping with excitement, her sister waved from the dock, wearing jeans, layered tank tops and a lightweight jacket. Her ponytail lifted by the wind, she could have been any college coed on vacation. Physically, she showed no signs of the special challenges she faced. But Kate was all too aware of her sister’s vulnerability.

A vulnerability that hit home all the harder now that Kate realized how easily someone could steal Jennifer away without her knowing. How could she ever hope to go on a remote shoot without worrying? What if her editor had been the one to pull this stunt?

Kate loved Jennifer more than anyone in the world. But the balance of that love wavered between sibling and motherly affection. The maternal drive to protect Jennifer burned fiercely inside her.

And Duarte had stepped over a line. How dare he use his security people to just scoop up Jennifer? He was supposed to be protecting her.

Her lips pursed tight, Kate held her anger, for now. She didn’t want to upset her sister with a scene.

Jennifer hugged her tight before stepping back smiling. “Katie, are you surprised? We get to visit after all. Isn’t it beautiful? Can we go swimming even though it’s January? It’s not snowing, like at home.”

Kate forced a smile onto her own face, as well. “It might be a bit cool for that even now. But we could go for walks on the beach. Hope you brought comfy shoes.”

“Oh, they have everything for me. He—” she pointed to Javier “—said so when he picked me up at school. I got to fly on an airplane and they had my favorite movie with popcorn. All these nice people were waiting to meet me when I got here a few minutes before you. Have you met them?”

Shaking her head, Kate let Jennifer continue with the introductions, which saved her from having to say anything for a while. More specifically, it offered her the perfect diversion to avoid looking at Duarte until she could get her emotions under control and him alone.

On the surface this seemed like a thoughtful gesture, but he should have consulted her, damn it. Thinking of Jennifer going off with people she didn’t know scared the hell out of Kate.

As for the supposedly great assisted-living facility, they never should have let Jennifer leave without calling her first.

So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he could be an ordinary, everyday kind of guy. Duarte assumed his way was best.

No worries about joining the ranks of his three-month-rejects club. Because she would be walking out on Duarte Medina on their one-month anniversary.