‘No.’
‘I can still get you back to shore in one of the small crafts we keep on board.’
‘That won’t be necessary, but thank you.’ She’d made her decision and she wasn’t backing down now, but what exactly had she agreed to...? Work as yet unspecified, and a suite of rooms fit for a princess located handily next to those of a prince. Was she really so naïve? Luca had shown little sign of wanting to romance her... Yes. She was that naïve. Was the Pirate Prince noted for his romantic nature, or was his calculating sexuality all he expected it to take to achieve another conquest?
She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do. One thing she was certain of about Luca was that he didn’t have to force himself on a woman, or mistreat her, or mock her, or do any of the things that she’d thought had put her off men for good.
‘So you’re happy to stay on board?’ he asked.
Gathering herself, she confirmed this. ‘If you’ll still have me, but I do insist on making myself useful. Or how else can I pay for my passage?’
To his credit, Luca didn’t say anything to alarm her, though his mouth did tug up a fraction at one corner. ‘I’m sure we can find something for you to do,’ he said as he opened the door. ‘But for now I’m going to leave you to take that shower, which will give me a chance to decide exactly what to do with you.’
She got the distinct impression from his expression that her fate was already decided, but instead of alarm bells ringing, as they surely should have done, she felt incredibly excited by the prospect of whatever lay ahead.
CHAPTER SIX
HEDIDN’TRETURNto his suite right away, or even to his study where the Red Box was waiting. Instead, he retraced his steps to the grand salon to take a proper look at the space through Samia’s eyes. And, following her verdict, it did strike him as insipid.
Nothing would ever be boring with Samia.
His yacht was state-of-the-art fierce, while this reception area was like a tepid bath, neither ice nor fire. And he craved fire, he thought, brooding on a pair of emerald eyes.
What is this grand salon used for?she must have wondered. Grand dinner parties where equally grand food and drink were served to grand guests.
He could almost hear Samia observing,No invitation for me, then...?
Those grand guests would all glut themselves at his expense. No one had ever been known to refuse an invitation from the notorious Pirate Prince, let alone offer the slightest criticism, or an opinion that might differ from his.
He’d rather eat a hamburger with Samia any day of the week.
She could hardly believe she was soaking in a king-sized tub in a pink veined-marble bathroom the same size as her bedroom at home, bathed in warmth and cloaked in shimmering, rainbow-hued bubbles. This was all incredible and new and fabulous—and it wouldn’t do to get used to it.
What would it be like to live like this every day? Idle? Great to dream about, but a bit boring to indulge in all the time, though it did take her back to playing make-believe with her mother. Her father had gambled away their money, and her mother, a renowned beauty in her time, had been ill-equipped to deal with the harsh realities of everyday life. Samia had adapted quickly, because she was young and not used to much luxury, as that was reserved for her parents. She hadn’t been very old when she’d started to see the cracks beneath the façade of their wealth—maybe six or seven. An empty larder, and holes in the soles of her father’s expensive shoes, had told their own story. To begin with, her mother had made the best of things by acting out scenes she would have inhabited at one time, introducing Samia to a glittering world she could only dream about...before now.
How her mother would have loved this, she reflected as she trailed her fingertips through the bubbles and swished the warm water. Pressing her lips together hard, she remembered her mother’s last note, begging for forgiveness, and saying Samia would be better off without her. Samia only wished they could have talked things through.
Closing her eyes, she sank back with a sigh. Things were rarely what they seemed. Even this incredible encounter with Luca might not be as straightforward as it appeared. More soldier than prince, he could play the role of laid-back charmer equally well. He’d set the restaurant alight with more than a title, good looks, or even his formidable reputation. It was the dangerously glittering glamour he radiated that meant that even when he was barefoot and casually dressed, he drew everyone’s eye.
Luca was a powerhouse in every way, though strangely, in spite of her past bad experience, she didn’t feel threatened by him. Quite the opposite. He made her feel safe, which only made her all the more determined to help him recover from his brother’s death. If she got the chance. Sometimes it was easier for a stranger to see things clearly, and she felt sure that what the people of Madlena needed was a strong prince to lead them forward into a bright and promising future. If Luca remained locked in the past he wouldn’t help anyone.
Take that as a lesson for yourself, she concluded. And how exactly could she help Luca, with no job, no home to go to, and a vindictive ex-husband? Looking back, it was obvious her ex had married her for two things: her column and some land in Scotland her father owned, that he had hoped to farm one day. Her ex had said the land shouldn’t be farmed as it would make an excellent golf course. She should never have married him, but had run out of options when it came to helping her parents. And he’d seemed so kind at first, paying off her father’s debts, and buying her mother some lovely new clothes. It was only later, in one of his drunken rages, that he’d admitted that Samia was incidental to his goal, and if she didn’t allow him to edit her work, her father would suffer. When she’d fought back in print, he’d accused her father of fraud, and mysterious funds had started appearing in her father’s bank account. When her mother had discovered that the money she had so enjoyed spending was a trap, she’d rapidly gone downhill, while Samia’s bewildered father had barely put up a defence at his trial.
Oh, yes, she was perfect princess material, Samia reflected with irony as she climbed out of the bath and grabbed a towel. While Luca was no longer a hot guy lounging in a bar, someone to chat to and spend time with, but master of this ship and a ruler returning to his country. Gaining in princely command with every passing moment. It was hard to see where she fitted into his plans.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl, which brought her down to earth with a bump. She couldn’t wait until supper. She was hungry, despite the burger she’d eaten earlier. What were the chances of finding a light snack in theBlack Diamond’s galley?
There was only one way to find out.
She was determined to remain upbeat, her intention being to quickly ransack the dressing room, find something suitable to wear, and go exploring to find the galley, but when she opened the first drawer and discovered a treasure trove of make-up, she couldn’t bring herself to rush. It was as if someone had ordered a high-end cosmetic company’s complete range, most of which was still in cellophane-wrapped boxes. This was dress-up with a rocket boost.
After that first discovery, it became a ‘no holds barred’ trolley dash through every cupboard and drawer. Scarves, purses, costume jewellery and handbags galore were soon scattered about—and how many swimsuits did one person need? Holding up a slinky turquoise number, she realised that whoever had ordered the clothes was about the same size she was. The wardrobes revealed another cache of riches, outfits and evening gowns of a quality she could never afford. Trailing her fingertips across the überdeluxe fabrics, she could only marvel that so many beautiful things had been discarded. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she laughed. Still wrapped in a towel with her hair all over the place, she looked a sight. ‘I am not worthy,’ she murmured. But she could wear a cotton sundress...
Right at the back of the wardrobe, she had found a box packed to the brim with a selection of colourful summer dresses. Now it was just a case of deciding which one to wear...
She picked out the plainest frock. It was lovely, actually... Must have slipped through the style police’s net: a bright cornflower blue with shoestring straps that tied on the shoulders. The colour matched her optimistic mood, while the dress showed enough of her body without revealing too much. Brushing her hair out until it resembled a fiery cloud, she added a touch of lip gloss and a good lashing of mascara. Why not? This was the first time in a long time she’d felt remotely feminine, or had access to such things. She couldn’t do much about her freckles without a bucket of foundation, and she’d have to go barefoot, because none of the sandals she found were either comfortable, or suitable for walking on the deck of a sailing yacht.
Ready!
