“You do?” Valentina leans forward, propping her head on her hand.
“Far more often than I should probably be admitting to you. It’s almost embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing for you?” She laughs. “I’m a married woman. A mother, for crying out loud!”
“Oh, I don’t think you understand the exceptional number of nights I have my cock in hand wondering what it would be like to be inside of you. So yes, it is also embarrassing for me to be lusting over my father’s wife.”
A slow, ragged breath shakes between us, and I can feel her tremble within my grasp.
“It is wrong of me. I know it. This is dangerous—”
“Very dangerous.”
“Incrediblydangerous. And probably a little bit idiotic. But I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the first woman who’s ever gotten me so enthralled that I’d even risk something like this.”
Her hand lifts from mine, and the breeze cools my skin where I’ve begun to feel hot. Too fucking hot. The feeling must be mutual, though, as Valentina fans herself.
“Perhaps we should change the subject.”
“Or... we could get in the water.”
“Summer has passed. The water must be freezing!” A light shines in her gaze, an excitement buzzing.
“Ah, but this private beach has been spelled, and the water stays the perfect temperature year-round. Prince Dalziel boasted about it when he told me about this wonderful little spot and offered it to me if I needed to hide from his parents.”
My chair drags through the sand. Her fire-lit gaze follows me. I offer my hand yet again. A smile. A brilliant, sparkling, brighter-than-the-sun smile graces her face. Then her hand is mine, and we’re moving.
Running. Laughing. Leaving every ounce of our worries behind at that table.
Water crashes into us, soaking through my pants and pasting the fabric of my shirt to my chest. Valentina wades in with me, fighting the waves as droplets of water create small spots that are damn near see-through on her gown. She squeals as a wave sends her back a step. Beads of water catch the sun and reflect tiny rainbows across her face.
“Ah, shit,” I laugh. A wave, larger than the last, comes charging toward the shore. Toward us. I pull Valentina into my arms, holding her tightly as it crashes down onto us, buckling our knees and sending us under.
The current threatens to pull us apart, but my hold only tightens. Small bubbles of air skitter over my skin. The excess of Valentina’s dress floats around us, drug down as we find our feet and push ourselves back up to standing. Breaking the surface, we’re both sputtering and laughing. The fall has pushed us back a few feet where the waves are lesser and the water not as high.
My hair is plastered to my forehead, hanging into my eyes. Messily, I push the strands away. Water drips down Valentina’s face and captivates my interest as several beads of sparkling water make their way over her full lips. I dare to let my gaze drop further.
Through the sheerness of her gown, the pink outline of her nipples can easily be deciphered. Under the water, my hands find her hips, and I pull her so tightly against me that the sloshing liquid between us is nearly nonexistent. Warmth soaks into my skin as her arms find their way around and over my shoulders and her hands into my hair. Her fingers tease at the base of my neck.
“In another life, if I were not a prince and you were not a healer stolen from her life to wed the king,” I start, and she tries to repress a smile, “I would be a carpenter or whatever sort of trade my father did.”
“And I,” she muses, “would be a business owner.”
“A business owner?” I arch a brow. “What sort of business?”
“I’d sell books.” A hum and a smile.
“Ah.”
“And I would come to you to make my shelves.”
The water rocks against us, but we stand unmoving in its path. I can feel my pulse as blood rushes out to my limbs. For a time, I can forget where I am, who I am, and just pretend. With her, it’s easy.
Licking the water from my lips, I tilt forward and nuzzle my nose into the gentle curve of her neck. Valentina arches, opening up for me, and reaches for my touch. My lips brush against her skin.
“You would walk into my little shop. I’d be covered in sawdust or something of that nature, but when I saw you, I’d wipe my hands clean, because I couldn’t imagine anything getting something so pristine dirty, and I’d want totouchyou. In fact, I’d see you, and I would think to myself that the goddess herself had sent my wife walking right in my front door.”
She draws little circles along the back of my neck, and a shiver runs down my spine. “And I’d see you with dust in your hair and a smile that makes me weak, and I’d forget to breathe.”
