by Leah Ashton
He didn’t bother to provide a reason. He just wanted them gone.
In fact, he also wanted to be gone. From this marquee, from all these people, and from anyone who had an opinion on him, or Jas, or their relationship.
‘Want to come for a walk?’ he asked Jas.
* * *
They didn’t leave in a hurry. Instead, Marko politely made his way through the crowd, explaining that he wanted to show Jasmine Mjesto za Ljubljenje.
Everyone smiled when Marko said that, although Jas had no idea why, her efforts at learning basic Slavic phrases not having extended to those words. Za might mean ‘of’? She couldn’t remember.
‘Where are we going?’ Jas asked—partly because she was curious, but mostly because Marko couldn’t just walk off into the distance. Her team still had a job to do.
‘Mjesto za Ljubljenje is up there—’ Marko gestured to where the harbour curved and merged into a rocky beach. ‘On the other side of those trees.’
‘That’s still part of the exclusion zone,’ Jas said, referring to the area surrounding the marquee that had been cleared for anyone but guests. Palace security patrolled the edges of the zone, ensuring the privacy and security of the Prince—and mostly to keep the paparazzi at bay.
‘Exactly,’ Marko said. He turned to Scott and Simon, who had materialised at their sides. ‘So, guys—could you keep your distance?’
Marko needed some space; it was obvious to Jasmine in every tense line of his body. She needed some space, actually.
Which was silly. Because as much as she appreciated Marko’s defence of her, and as much as she acknowledged that such rudeness towards anyone—let alone your country’s Prince and his fiancée—was utterly outrageous...
That couple had been right.
Marko would never have chosen her, from all the women he’d had to choose from—and who he would have to choose from again, once this was over—based on her looks.
To have it so baldly stated was definitely a direct hit to her vanity.
But in reality...it didn’t actually matter.
He hadn’t chosen her—for any reason—and he never would.
So, alone, Jas and Marko went for a walk.
He still held her hand, although it was obviously for show—given they remained in full view of the marquee.
He didn’t say a word, he simply walked briskly, his gaze straight ahead.
He only paused—and dropped her hand—when they passed the last mooring to reach the edge of the marina, and Jas needed to stop to take off her heels. Marko removed his shoes too.
They now walked along the sandy beach of a narrow point that stretched out from the town. With no buildings and covered in a mix of tall trees and scrubby plants, it was a stark contrast to the bustling crowd behind them. But Jas still sensed she was being watched, and it wasn’t until they’d rounded the top of the point—and were hidden from view—that she began to relax.
‘It’s all national park here,’ Marko said suddenly. ‘It extends along the coast for a few kilometres. There are walking trails, some picnic spots and a few lookouts, but not much else.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Jas said. And it was. Their only company was the ocean, and the white yachts that dotted it as they took part in the regatta Jas had almost forgotten about. ‘It’s hard to believe we’re so close to the city.’
He was still walking. A bit faster now, so Jas had to lengthen her own stride to keep up.
‘I’m very sorry about before,’ he said. ‘I think they must be the parents of a woman I dated briefly. Seems they maybe had hopes of marrying into royalty.’
Jas shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’
Marko stopped. The beach had narrowed here, and water lapped almost against their toes.
‘It’s not okay,’ he said, facing Jas. It was mid-afternoon and the sun made him squint.
The sea breeze had loosened Jasmine’s hair from its bun, her hair no longer contained by the hat she’d forgotten back at the marquee.
‘No, really,’ Jas said, ‘it is. You must get so frustrated with how everyone refers to your past. That guy made it sound like—’
‘No, Jas,’ he said, interrupting. ‘Don’t make this about me. They were very offensive towards you.’
Jas crossed her arms in front of herself. ‘So they were mean to me.’ She shrugged again. ‘So what? I’m pretty tough, remember?’
She raised her eyebrows and smiled, but Marko was refusing to play along.
‘It wasn’t acceptable,’ he insisted.
Jas wrinkled her forehead, confused. Why was he so stuck on this? ‘Thank you very much for your chivalry back there, but, please—don’t worry about it. I’m really fine. Besides—’
But then she snapped her mouth shut.
‘Besides what?’
Now it was Jas’s turn to start walking, and she did so with big, urgent strides. Did they really need to have a conversation about how much less attractive she was than all his real past partners?
‘It doesn’t matter.’
He caught up with her effortlessly, and they walked together, gentle waves occasionally covering their feet, the water cool against her skin.
‘You told me, that first night, that you don’t look anything like the women I date,’ he said shrewdly. ‘You don’t still believe that, surely?’
‘It really doesn’t matter what I think,’ Jas pointed out. ‘Everyone else seems to believe it’s plausible we’re engaged—except this couple today—and that’s what’s important.’
‘I disagree,’ he said.
‘With what? That everyone believes we’re really engaged? Or that it’s not important they do?’
She was being deliberately obtuse, not understanding why Marko wanted to have this conversation.
‘I disagree that you don’t look like a woman I’d date,’ he said.
He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.
Jas made herself look up at him, and tucked long escaped strands of her hair roughly behind her ears.
‘That’s very kind of you to tell me that,’ she said neutrally. ‘And trust me, I think I have relatively good self-esteem—but I’m not delusional, Marko. I’m no supermodel. Heck, I wasn’t close to being the most beautiful girl in my year at school—or probably even in my street—let alone the most beautiful woman in Vela Ada. That couple kind of had a point. If you were, in fact, actually engaged to me, it wouldn’t be for my looks.’ She grinned now. ‘It would definitely be my sparkling personality that won you over.’
But Marko wasn’t smiling.
‘Do you really think so little of me that you think looks are all I care about?’
‘No,’ Jas said. ‘It’s just—’
‘Based on what you’ve read in magazines and photos you’ve seen, you know what kind of man I am? Just like that couple thought they knew me?’ He swallowed. ‘Despite the amount of time we’ve spent together, that’s still the man you think I am? Despite what I’ve—’
He stopped abruptly.
Despite what I’ve told you. Jas knew that was what he’d been about to say.
But he wouldn’t say it. Jas also knew that Marko still hated what he’d revealed to her on that beach.
Jas shook her head. ‘No,’ she said.
But, she realised, even though she’d defended him to her mother, part of her, maybe, still labelled him as the Playboy Prince.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I probably have made unfair assumptions. But why are we even having this conversation? It doesn’t matter if it’s my looks or my personality or whatever that you’re attracted to, because you’re not attracted to me. Remember? This isn’t real.’
Jasmine stepped around Marko, and continued down the beach.
She hugged herself as she walked, unsure why she felt so agitated, and frustra
ted that her cheeks had definitely heated into a telling blush.
She was just working with Marko. None of this mattered.
It was only her ego that was bruised, not her heart...
Her heart?
Ha! She couldn’t help but smile. Now she was being delusional. Sure, Marko was very handsome. And charming. And, it turned out, smart, and complex, and thoughtful, and he laughed at her jokes...
But she’d always known that he wasn’t really interested in her. He’d flirted with her, maybe. Checked her out, that first time they’d met...but—that was what he did. Right?
Because he was the Playboy Prince...
Except, he wasn’t. Not really. She knew that.
She shook her head, as if trying to shake these unwanted thoughts free.
No. He might make her tummy flip over, and her skin tingle—but that didn’t mean there was anything more there. She was only human, and he was gorgeous. But she knew that was all it was—an attraction she was very capable of controlling. A physical attraction, nothing more.
The beach sand had merged into rocks—large and flat, and arranged like a natural, gradual staircase. Jasmine made her way up them, her strappy sandals still in one hand. She didn’t look back, but she knew Marko was behind her.
At the top was a large, flat space, paved in small square cobblestones in differing shades of cream. At the centre a line of dark grey stones formed a square, and inside that even smaller pavers formed the words Mjesto za Ljubljenje.
It seemed she had found Marko’s destination.
Jas stepped into the square—it felt as if that was what she was supposed to do—and let her sandals drop to the ground.
It must be a lookout point, Jas decided. The view was certainly spectacular—from here she could look back towards the city of Vela Ada, its red-roofed buildings peeking out beyond the trees of the national park as they covered the undulating hills. And ahead of her was the ocean, a sparkling, perfect azure, the horizon only interrupted by yachts and foaming waves.
Marko stepped into the square.
Suddenly, with Marko beside her, the square seemed tiny—barely big enough for the two of them, their feet covering most of the writing.
‘What does it mean?’ Jas asked. She attempted to pronounce it. ‘Mjesto za Ljubljenje.’
‘I worked out why we’re having this conversation,’ Marko said, ignoring her current question to reference a question she hadn’t really wanted him to answer. ‘Why what that couple said bothered me so much, and why I don’t like you being so okay with it.’
They both kept staring out to the ocean, not looking at each other, and not touching.
Jas hated how she was feeling right now, an unfamiliar mix of embarrassment and hurt that she knew was misplaced. Why wouldn’t Marko just move on from this? She wasn’t fragile; she didn’t need him to try and make her feel better.
‘It’s because I didn’t like those people saying you weren’t beautiful, and I don’t like that you think you aren’t.’
Jas rolled her eyes, turning to look up at him now. ‘Seriously, Marko, there is a lot more to me than how I look. I’m genuinely, totally fine. You don’t have to say nice things to make me feel good about myself.’
‘I’m not saying it to make you feel better. And I know there is so much more to you than your appearance—I know there is so much more to everyone than their appearance. But—the thing is, I particularly like your appearance, and it turns out it’s important to me that you know that.’
‘You particularly like my appearance?’ Jas said, her lips quirking upwards. ‘Well, that’s a new one. I’ll file that compliment beside the Well Done for Trying stickers I got as a kid, or that one time I received a “sound” rating in a performance review from a sergeant who really didn’t like me. What does “sound” even mean in that cont—?’
‘Jasmine,’ Marko said, cutting off her stream of words. ‘Stop. I’m trying to tell you I think you’re beautiful, and you’re too busy being facetious to listen.’
‘I wasn’t being—’ she argued, automatically. And then stopped. ‘Pardon me?’
‘I said I think you’re beautiful. Really beautiful, actually. And I am attracted to you. Very much so.’
‘But—’
‘I’m actually a bit confused why you would ever think I wasn’t. You knew I checked you out that first time we met. You knew I liked kissing you, and was angling to kiss you again later that night. And you knew I invited you to swim with me that day, and, believe me, my dreams have done their best to imagine how you would’ve looked in your underwear if you’d said yes. In your wet underwear, actually.’
Oh, God. Marko’s deep, delicious voice sent shivers down her spine.
She closed her eyes, and took a long, deep breath.
‘But since that day at the beach, you’ve been so different when we’ve been alone. You’ve kept your distance,’ she said.
‘So have you,’ Marko pointed out.
‘I was being professional.’
‘So was I,’ he said. ‘But I was putting aside the attraction between us. I certainly wasn’t pretending it didn’t exist.’
‘I haven’t been pretending!’ Jas said, narrowing her gaze. ‘I’m just not as arrogant as you, assuming that every person I meet is melting into a puddle of lust in my presence. You don’t even know if I’m into you. Maybe I’m not.’
He just looked at her steadily, with infuriating self-assurance in his gaze.
‘Maybe you weren’t pretending,’ Marko continued now, his voice low. ‘Maybe it was just plain old denial. Because, surely, you feel this too.’
He reached out, taking her right hand, and lifting it to his chest. Jas stretched her fingers out, until her palm was flat against his heart.
‘Can you feel that?’ he asked hoarsely.
His heart beat like a drum beneath her touch.
Jas wasn’t capable of doing much more than nod, and so that was what she did.
Then Marko’s fingers curved around her wrist to press gently against her skin—against her own pulse, a pulse that beat every bit as rapidly as his heart.
She watched as Marko’s lips curved into a knowing smile, but then her gaze met his, and all she could concentrate on were his eyes. Eyes that were hot with want—for her.
But, Jas realised only now, that wasn’t a complete surprise. Since the moment they’d met, electricity had sparked between them, and that connection had only grown since then with every touch, every word, and every laugh.
So he’d been right, she had been denying this, for reasons beyond professionalism. For such professionalism didn’t require denial, it simply required restraint.
She didn’t want to want Marko, because Marko was not the right man for her. Even now, as she stood within the spell of his words and his proximity, she knew he was not the man who would mend her still-broken heart, or who she could trust to never hurt her. Because Marko, while not exactly the playboy he was portrayed as, was also not going to fall in love with Jasmine Gallagher from Canberra. In just over two months’ time he would return to his military career, and to a world that would not involve her.
Of that she had no doubt.
‘Marko,’ Jas said, attempting to sound serious, but ending up soft and breathy. ‘As it appears we both have thrown professionalism out the window, can I just confirm something?’
‘Anything,’ he murmured.
He was brushing his thumb against the sensitive skin of her wrist, making it nearly impossible for Jas to think aside from wondering how something so simple could make her knees feel so weak.
‘Uh—’ she began, then swallowed. Straightened her shoulders. ‘This is important,’ she said—partly as a reminder to herself. ‘I just want to be clear what this is. So if we tear up the no-kissing clause, we’ll be not not kissing for how long, exactly?’
Marko raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t think it’s necessary to update our contract, Jas.’
‘But not beyond these three months together, right?’
The look of horror in Marko’s gaze told Jas everything she needed to know. It also made her laugh out loud.
‘Wow, Marko—way to freak out,’ Jas said. ‘Don’t panic, I’m thinking something fun and easy too. I’m on the same page.’
And she most definitely was. Especially now there was no danger she might start imagining a future for them that would never be.
Marko seemed to have decided he’d had enough of talking. He stepped closer, almost sandwiching their hands between them—but not quite. Still, they only touched above his heartbeat, while the ocean breeze tangled her skirt against his legs.
‘Mjesto za Ljubljenje,’ he said, now so close she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. ‘You asked before what it means.’
Jas curled her toes against the smooth shape of those words against her feet, and nodded, although right now all she cared about was getting closer to Marko.
‘It translates to Place of Love,’ he said, in a rough tone that did delicious things to Jas’s insides. ‘But in English, people usually call these places a kissing spot—which is what it’s intended to be.’
‘There’s more than one?’ Jas asked, her gaze travelling downwards to his lips.
‘Mmm-hmm,’ Marko said. ‘Across the island, and also throughout Croatia. One of many ideas we’ve borrowed from our neighbour.’
‘An excellent idea,’ Jas said firmly. But she was getting impatient now. What was Marko waiting for?
His lips—the lips she couldn’t drag her gaze away from—had formed into a smile. God, he knew what he was doing to her. But, with her hand against his heart, she also knew exactly what she was doing to him.
He was just as affected by her nearness as she was by his. And with that knowledge came power. And with the clarity of expectation they both now had—came freedom.
Suddenly she remembered something: whispered words from a night that seemed a lifetime ago.