Romancing the Crown Series

by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)

  "But—"

  "Shh." He cupped the back of her head to hold her steady as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Duty, reason, memory, everything logical and reasonable was screaming alarms in her head, but she didn't want to listen. She closed her eyes and met him halfway.

  The only music was the soft beat of the waves against the hull and the whistle of the breeze in the rigging, but Kate could have sworn she heard a saxophone.

  The magic hadn't dimmed. It was as potent now as it had been before.

  That was why Kate had struggled so hard against it.

  And that was why she found it impossible to resist.

  His lips slid across hers in a caress as soft as a sigh. He didn't hurry, yet he didn't give her a chance to retreat. It was an exploration and a reminder, coaxing her to respond.

  She did. Heaven help her, she did. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He tasted of salt from the sea and a dark, heavy thirst that wouldn't be quenched by a kiss. Kate felt his hand tighten in her hair as his tongue stroked hers, and she swayed against him, pressing her body full-length to his.

  His skin was damp and his cutoffs still dripping wet. Kate could feel the water soak into her tank top and shorts, but she didn't care. After a week of watching him, she was finally touching. And she couldn't get enough.

  How could she have forgotten how well they fit together? His angles to her curves, his strength to her softness was so... right, it was as if she belonged here.

  The necklace slipped from between their hands and fell to the deck unnoticed. Kate slid her arms around Sam, cupping her palms to the curve of his shoulder blades and splaying her fingers as if she could absorb him.

  How could she have forgotten how good he felt beneath her hands? His skin was sleek and hot, stretched tight over muscle that had been hardened by years of dangerous missions. He craved adventure, he thrived on freedom, but that didn't seem to matter to her now. Not when he was in her arms at last.

  He moved his mouth to her neck. She felt his breath puff warmly over her skin as he said her name. She tipped up her chin, savoring the sensation.

  "Kate," he repeated, his voice rough. "My Kate."

  Another alarm sounded somewhere in her brain, but she was beyond listening. His lips brushed her throat, and tingles raced through to her toes. She felt as if she were awakening after a long sleep, her heart pumping, her blood flowing the way it was meant to. It couldn't be wrong.

  She curled her fingers, pressing her nails to his skin, hanging on as her head whirled. He dipped the tip of his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. A sound rose between them, a soft moan of longing. She hadn't realized it was her until she felt an answering rumble vibrate from Sam's chest.

  He lifted his head. His eyes met hers without wavering. "I've missed you," he said simply. "So much."

  It still wasn't too late to stop, she thought dimly. He wasn't pushing her. And he would never force her. That's just the kind of man he was. Straightforward and honest. Responsible. Stubborn.

  Tender. Sweet.

  She parted her lips, but the lie wouldn't come. "I've missed you, too, Sam."

  The corners of his eyes crinkled with the beginning of a smile. But then he dropped his gaze, and his smile froze. "You're wet."

  "I'll dry off. It's warm and..." Her words trailed off as she followed his gaze. Water had seeped into her cotton tank top. The once modest garment clung to her breasts, clearly outlining her erect nipples.

  She watched him bring his hand between their bodies, and her knees went weak. He spread his fingers, holding his palm a whisper away from one straining peak.

  No, don't, she thought. If you touch me now we won't be able to go back.

  A tremor shook his fingers. His chest vibrated with another rumbling moan.

  She looked up and found his gaze on her face. His smile was gone. His eyes glowed with an intensity that gave her no chance to hide. Even in the sunshine that poured on the deck she felt the heat from his hand. She couldn't breathe as every nerve strained toward him, yearning for the moment when he would close the gap.

  Yes, oh, yes, she cried silently. Please, Sam, if you don't touch we now...

  He closed his hand over her breast.

  Kate was unable to stop her soft gasp of pleasure. It had been so long. She had forgotten how good this felt.

  No, she hadn't forgotten, she had chosen not to remember.

  He rubbed his palm across her nipple. The soft friction of the wet shirt over her sensitive flesh made it swell more. She locked her hands behind his neck, arching her back and shamelessly lifting herself more fully into his caress.

  He cupped her breast boldly, lifting, squeezing, driving her mad. With a groan, he curled himself over her body and fitted his mouth to hers.

  There was nothing coaxing about this kiss. He took her lips with swift certainty. His tongue plunged inside, demanding a response. She gave it, matching him stroke for stroke. Needs that she'd believed had died were blossoming. She wasn't merely awakening, she was coming alive.

  It was wonderful. Glorious. She couldn't think why she had fought it so long. Then she stopped thinking altogether and raked her fingers over his naked back.

  Sam shifted, bracing his legs apart and wrapping his arms around her waist as he drew her more firmly against him. The position brought their hips together. Beneath the cool, wet denim he was hot and hard.

  Kate hooked her foot behind his leg to improve the fit.

  She didn't know how they ended up on the deck. One moment they were standing, the next they were on their sides, their legs entwined, their feet halfway down the companionway, their hands everywhere they could reach. She pushed Sam to his back and climbed on top of him, pressing kisses to his chest. She paused only long enough to help him yank her tank top over her head and get rid of her bra before she fell on him greedily.

  He tasted the same, she discovered, running her tongue down the center of his six-pack abs. The years had honed his body to perfection. He had a few new scars, a small ridge of white skin to the left of his navel and a long curving one beneath his right ribs. She kissed them both, then did the same for the recent bullet wound in his side.

  With a sound she could only describe as a growl he grasped her shoulders and reversed their positions, straddling her hips as he came down on top of her. He went straight for the zipper of her shorts, cursing colorfully when the zipper stuck halfway down.

  Breathless, she pushed his hands aside and unfastened it herself.

  He cursed again.

  Kate glanced up.

  Sam wasn't looking at her. He was looking behind him toward the cabin.

  "Lieutenant Coburn, Lieutenant Mulvaney, do you read me?"

  The voice was faint, barely audible over the sound of the breeze and the gentle lap of the waves. It came from the radio.

  Sam sat back on his heels, and warm, damp denim brushed her thighs. He rubbed his face hard.

  Kate drew in a breath, trying to clear the haze from her vision.

  "Lieutenant Coburn, Lieutenant Mulvaney, please report." It was the policeman who was overseeing the communications at the command post. Sergeant Chelios. And judging by his anxious tone, it wasn't the first time he'd tried to contact them.

  Sam dipped his head and met her gaze. "Kate..."

  She swallowed hard. "We have to answer."

  "I know." He made no move to get off her. "Are you all right?"

  No, she was not all right. She ached. She throbbed. Her body was clamoring to complete what they'd started.

  What they'd started...

  Suddenly everything came into focus. Clear, brutal focus.

  What had they started?

  "Oh, my God," she muttered.

  Sam brushed his knuckles along her cheek. "Don't, Kate."

  "We almost... we could have..." She couldn't seem to catch her breath. "Oh, God."

  "Don't regret this, Kate. It was bound to happen."

  No.


  "We'll finish this later." He leaned over and gave her a swift kiss, then rose to his feet and disappeared down the companionway. A moment later his voice came from the cabin. "This is Lieutenant Coburn. Over."

  Numbly, Kate sat up and looked for her top. It had ended up hooked over a cleat. Her bra dangled from the ship's wheel. She gathered her clothing and scanned the cove. Fortunately, no one was in sight, but she hadn't thought of that, had she? She hadn't thought about anything other than satisfying the need Sam had stirred.

  She put on her bra, but her hands were shaking too hard to fasten it. Stupid. Pathetic. How could she have lost control so totally, so fast? She bit her lip and concentrated, willing her fingers to function.

  She was an officer in the United States Navy. She was a mature, rational woman. And now she was incapable of guiding a hook through an eye.

  Exhaling hard, she finally managed to fasten her bra. She yanked on her top. It was still wet, clinging to her breasts in the same way that had started all of this.

  No, what had happened here had started before today. Before last week.

  We'll finish this later.

  She combed her fingers through her hair. Her short hair. She'd cut it to get rid of the memories. And to punish herself. She should have remembered that. Instead, she'd remembered how good Sam could make her feel.

  Something glinted near her feet. She looked down. It was her necklace.

  With a sob she fell to her knees. She scooped up the chain and the worn gold butterfly, enclosing them in her fist protectively.

  Sam's hand settled on her shoulder. "Kate?"

  She jerked away from his touch and glared at him.

  His feet were bare. The stud at his waistband was still unsnapped. He hadn't put on his shirt. His damp hair stood up in finger-combed tufts, and his eyes still gleamed with awareness.

  God help her, she wanted to kiss him again.

  Kate felt a twinge of panic. They had almost had sex in broad daylight while on duty. And if that wasn't stupid enough, the sex would have been unprotected. She hadn't given any thought to birth control. What was wrong with her? Was she trying to destroy her career and her life? Did she want history to repeat itself?

  She rolled to her feet, tightening her fist until the gold butterfly pricked her palm. "What's going on? Why was Sergeant Chelios trying to contact us?"

  Sam looked at Kate as she faced him. Her chin was up. So was the wall she'd done her best to raise between them. But her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed. Her top was damp and crooked, and she'd forgotten to zip her shorts.

  For the first time in his life, Sam didn't want to do his duty. He didn't want to be responsible. He didn't want to think about his career or his rank or the struggle it had taken to get this far. He wanted to tumble Kate down to the deck and feel her nails in his back and her legs around his waist and—

  "Sam, is there a problem?"

  Damn right, there was a problem. "The cabin cruiser they've been tracking is moving erratically along this stretch of the coast. We've been asked to take a look."

  "I'll raise the anchor," she said, starting past him.

  He snagged her elbow. "Kate, we have to talk."

  "Not now."

  "For God's sake, Kate. We almost made love. You can't pretend nothing happened."

  "We almost had sex," she said, spitting out the words as if she were reading an indictment. "But we didn't. Let's move on."

  He stared at her, trying to understand how she could turn it on and off so easily. Had he deceived himself? Was he the only one whose world had just been shaken?

  No. He knew what he'd felt. He hadn't done this alone. She'd been a willing participant. Hell, she'd been the one to kiss him first.

  "What is the cruiser's position?" she asked. "It may be better to use the auxiliary motor in order to get directly to it if it's upwind."

  He released her arm. She was right. This wasn't the time to talk.

  They raised anchor and headed for the last reported position of the cruiser. The wind was with them, so they made better time with the sails than they would have with the auxiliary motor. A powerboat with a twin-engine diesel would have been easier to handle than this sloop, but half the vessels that had been volunteered for this mission were wind-powered, and Sam hadn't considered giving himself any special privileges over the people under his command. A good leader didn't expect his men to do anything he wouldn't do himself.

  And to be honest, he'd wanted to see Kate smile. He knew how much she loved sailing. He'd hoped getting out on the water would help dispel the shadows that always seemed to be present in her eyes.

  She was still the same woman inside—the embrace they'd just shared had proved that to him beyond a doubt. Yet the Kate he'd known wouldn't have turned on him after they'd been interrupted. She would have been as eager as he was to find the opportunity to pick up where they'd left off.

  What had happened to her? What had made her so cautious? A lot could take place in five years. Had some other man hurt her? Is that why she tried so hard to tamp down her real nature?

  Sam tightened his hands on the wheel at the thought of some other man mistreating his Kate. The idea of some other man even touching her was enough to make him want to punch something.

  "There she is," Kate called. "To starboard."

  Sam nudged the wheel to adjust their course. Within minutes, they were close enough to the cruiser to see that it wasn't under power. No one was on deck. It drifted like a large white rubber toy, tossed by the vagaries of the wind and waves.

  Kate studied the boat through her binoculars, then slipped past him to radio an update to the command post. By the time she emerged from the cabin, Sam could hear the chug of an engine growing louder from the northwest.

  "That would be Petty Officer Thurlow," Kate said, nodding toward the squat, dark blue vessel that was approaching. "The fishing boat he's been assigned to has been keeping track of this cruiser. I've directed the nearest spotter aircraft to swing past, as well."

  "She looks abandoned," Sam said.

  "Yes. That gives us a good excuse to hail her without compromising our cover."

  Sam nodded, bringing the sloop as close as he dared in the heaving swells. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Ahoy on the cruiser!"

  Minutes went past but there was no reply.

  Thurlow's fishing boat was closing now. It slowed as it reached two hundred yards. A speck appeared on the horizon, growing fast. The spotter plane would be here in minutes.

  Kate sounded the sloop's horn. "Ahoy on the cruiser," she shouted. "Do you need assistance?"

  The seemingly abandoned boat wobbled, as if weight had suddenly shifted near the waterline.

  Sam took his gun from the locker where he'd stored it and slipped it into his waistband at the small of his back. "Kate, be careful," he said.

  She looked at him. It was the first time she'd met his gaze since they'd left the cove. Her demeanor was once again all business... except for the flush in her cheeks. "You, too, Sam."

  Before he could say anything more, she sounded the horn again.

  A pale face appeared in the window of the cruiser. Sam had a glimpse of tousled hair and widened eyes before the face dropped out of view.

  He moved his hand over the butt of his gun, prepared to use the weapon at the first hint of trouble.

  A few seconds later a young man and short, plump woman stumbled from the cabin. The man wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, and the woman was wrapped in a flowered sheet. They gaped across the water at Sam and Kate, looked around at the idling fishing boat, then turned as one and stared openmouthed at the aircraft that was passing overhead.

  For a long, drawn-out moment no one moved. Finally, Kate made her way closer to the bow and called to the couple from there. "We saw you were adrift. We wondered if you needed help."

  The couple exchanged a look. Then the man hitched up his shorts and shook his head. He cupped his hands around his mouth and c
alled, "No, thanks, we don't need assistance. I think I'm getting the hang of it now."

  The woman turned scarlet and smacked her fist into his chest. Her companion just grinned and pulled her into his arms.

  Whoever that woman was, she wasn't Ursula Chambers, Sam saw immediately. And it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why that cruiser had been moving erratically.

  Evidently, Thurlow and the crew of the fishing boat had figured it out, too. Over the open radio link Sam heard rapid conversation, followed by hoots of laughter.

  "We're on our honeymoon," the man called, although further explanation wasn't really necessary. "We were, uh, busy and didn't realize you were hailing us."

  "No problem," Sam said. "Carry on."

  "I intend to. As soon as possible." Sappy grin still firmly in place, the man went up to the bridge while the woman ducked into the cabin. The cruiser's engines started up with a throaty rumble. A few minutes later, the cruiser was skimming over the waves toward Montebello.

  Sam waved to the crew of the fishing boat as they resumed their charted course. He didn't share their laughter. If not for the interruption of the radio, he and Kate could have been as oblivious to the world around them as that pair of honeymooners.

  He turned his gaze to Kate. She was still standing at the bow, her body rigid, her fingers white where she gripped the railing. She wasn't laughing, either. She looked at him, her chin angling upward in a mannerism he wasn't sure he liked anymore.

  The hell of it was, she was right. They shouldn't have kissed. What if he hadn't heard the radio? What if this call hadn't been a false alarm and Chambers had escaped because he and Kate were too busy making love, or having sex, or whatever she wanted to call it? How would they be able to explain that to the admiral who had entrusted them with this assignment, and to the king whose nephew had been murdered, and to the grieving prince who was depending on them to capture his lover's killer?

  Sam ground his teeth. All right, fine. They were still on a mission, but as far as he was concerned, the mission parameters had just changed. He'd keep his hands off Kate while they were on duty, but that didn't extend to their off-duty hours.

  There was no going back now for either of them. He wouldn't let her.