Fit for a Queen (Royal Scandals: San Rimini Book 1)

by Nicole Burnham

  Royce’s thumb moved along the outside of her hand. “You get a gold star, Ms. D’Ambrosio, one with a glowing tail. The Great Comet of 1858 was later renamed Donati’s Comet. Astronomers today believe it’s one of the brightest ever seen. It remained visible to the naked eye throughout the month of October, finally disappearing from astronomers’ view in the Southern Hemisphere in the spring of 1859.”

  “You remember all the dates?”

  “When you name your boat after a comet, you remember the details.”

  “That’s wildly romantic of you,” she said, then asked, “Will it be back? Like Halley’s Comet?”

  Muddied voices and music carried to their ears as a yacht entered the marina, the noise level rising as it moved behind the Donati, heading toward the slips at the far end. Assuming the partygoers planned to visit the casinos and bars to extend their Friday night festivities, they’d walk by Royce and Daniela on their way to the gate.

  Royce’s thumb continued to stroke hers. Once the clamor faded to a tolerable level, he said, “It’ll return, but we won’t be around to see it. Not unless you plan to live until the year 3050 or thereabouts.”

  “I do my best to eat well and exercise, but 3050 strikes me as optimistic.”

  “It’s the curse of long-period comets. They don’t visit as often as they should. Generations miss out. On the other hand, new discoveries are made every day. Who knows what we’ll see in our lifetime?”

  They were quiet for several long breaths, the silence filled by the lap of water and sporadic creaking from the walkway and surrounding boats. Then Royce’s thumb stilled, and he brought his other hand in front of him to caress her knuckles, her wrist, her forearm. The simple action made her mind and body reel. What would it feel like if he did that to her shoulders? Her back?

  She shoved the thought aside to focus on the moment, taking in the roughness of his fingers, the rise and fall of his chest, and finally the thump, thump, thump of her own heart in her ears. Royce Dekker was so unexpected, and so utterly appealing.

  When she finally spoke, her voice sounded more contemplative than she intended. “I have another question for you.”

  “Don’t announce it. Just ask.”

  “Your job is in security, but what is it, exactly, that you do with most of your time? Surveillance?”

  His hand stilled for a fraction of a second. The question had caught him off guard, but his tone was even when he spoke.

  “Sometimes. I also do site inspections—pointing out vulnerabilities to building owners—and a lot of Internet research and phone calls for background checks. Security sounds exciting, but it’s rather straightforward. At times it’s downright boring. It’s all about preventing problems, so it requires patience and good observational skills. A knack for organization helps.” He turned their joined hands, as if inspecting her knuckles under the moonlight. “It’s not so different from what you do, though I imagine your assignments are more interesting. Queen Fabrizia is an intriguing woman.”

  He had a gift for turning conversations away from uncomfortable topics. For the moment, she allowed it. He wouldn’t get far.

  “She is. When I see all she does to improve Sarcaccia—to improve the world as a whole—and know my work helps make that possible, it’s deeply satisfying.” She waited a tick, then added, “The Canadians and King Eduardo trust you. They have their choice of companies to hire. You must be very good at what you do.”

  “Not bad for only a few years in business. The military background helps.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “I do.” He eased closer. “Funny you’re asking about it. I’ve been thinking about my job a lot lately. I’m at the point in my career where I need to make decisions.”

  “How so?”

  His thumb moved along the outside of her hand again. “I’m solo, but I have enough work coming in that I’ll need to expand to keep pace. It’s getting too difficult to manage both the tasks I’m hired to do and the administrative work. But I don’t want to take on any employees until I know I can offer them long-term positions.”

  “Are you worried about your client base?”

  “I’m good on that front. It’s my own direction that gives me pause.” He shifted in the chair. “My father wants me to join his security business.”

  A memory rattled through her brain, but it wasn’t fully formed. “I think—back in Cancun—didn’t you say he wanted you to work with him after you left Guatemala? I didn’t realize that he’s in security.”

  “He owns his own firm. He employs six full-time security specialists plus a support staff.” Royce stretched his fingers, then tightened them around hers. “He has a good reputation and a stable client list, but he wants to drop to part time and eventually retire so he and my mother can travel more often. His work tends to be more physical than mine—his security specialists are more likely to have encounters like what happened at Safina’s—but I know his coworkers. I’d work well with them. Accepting his offer would be the smartest thing I could do. I’d save all the angst of hiring my own staff, and I could merge my client list with his. Plus, it would save him from worrying about how to wind down his business.”

  “Sounds like it would make your father happy.”

  “It would.”

  She waited for the rest. She could feel Royce’s gaze on her, as if he were evaluating the range of what he could say next and her possible response to each. When he spoke, his voice had a rough edge. “When I returned from the military, my father understood that I wanted to establish myself separately, to test out the career without the pressure of being his heir apparent. He wasn’t happy about it, but he kept his reaction tempered, at least with me. Who knows what he said to my mother when I wasn’t around. But now that my business has hit the point where I either need to expand or fold it into his firm, well…he’s trying not to pressure me, but his life and my mother’s are on hold while I decide. I don’t want to keep them waiting much longer.”

  She suspected from his tone that he hadn’t discussed the situation with anyone. The family connection made it too personal. “You strike me as the type who’s considered the pros and cons.”

  “And I’m no closer to a decision. I vacillate day to day. Hell, hour to hour. I don’t feel like there’s a right answer.”

  “Which means that for all the benefits of going to your father’s firm, knowing you can eventually take over and run it as you like, something inside is holding you back. Something more than concern about being in his shadow.”

  There was a split second before he laughed. “You’re perceptive. Have I mentioned that?”

  “Once or twice.”

  It was a long moment before he spoke again. “What happened in Turkey changed me. I’ve never been a fan of guns or violence, but I can deal with them when necessary. I’m good in a fight, and I know that what I’m doing helps the world at large, makes it a less violent place. But I don’t get an adrenaline rush or sense of satisfaction when I stop someone like Del Prete. All I have to do is stare at the stars for an hour to realize how small those actions are in the grand scheme of things. I wonder if there’s something else out there for me. Something bigger, more challenging.” A laugh escaped him. “And…I’ve clearly spent too much time tonight staring into space. I’m usually more practical.”

  He propped himself on an elbow. The air between them shifted. He was about to kiss her. Everything in her body craved it, but if she didn’t speak up now, she’d lose the opportunity.

  She owed it to Royce.

  She swallowed, steeling herself, then adopted the storytelling voice he’d used earlier. “Once upon a time, there was a man who decided that, following his time at university, he could do good work in Guatemala.”

  “Oh, you’re wicked.” On a laugh, he added, “Does Queen Fabrizia know?”

  “Do you want to hear this or not?”

  His eyes locked with hers in the dark, and he pulled his index finger and thumb across his lips in a
zipper, mimicking her earlier action.

  “Once upon a time, there was a young man who decided, following his time at university, to work in Guatemala. He was an optimist. He loved the outdoors, and he loved the work he was doing, repairing rural roadways to prevent damage to the jungle and to make travel easier for locals. He took a short trip to Mexico, where he met a woman at a crossroads in her career. She was about to graduate, and she wondered whether to take the safe path, to interview for a well-paid and respected position she was likely to secure, or to take a chance and pursue what could be a dream job. Timing prevented her from interviewing for both; she had to make a choice. The young man urged her to reach for the dream. He explained that if the path of her heart failed, she could start over in a few months and interview again for the safe position. But if she didn’t take the once in a lifetime opportunity, if she didn’t take the risk, she would always wonder what could have been. He was right. She took the risk and it paid off. If she hadn’t, she would have regretted it, even if she’d failed. Even if she’d had to spend months working her way back to the safe path.”

  “You really do have a good memory.” He tucked a windblown strand of hair behind her ear, paused, then slowly wended his fingers into her hair.

  “I also have a good point.”

  “My choice isn’t quite like yours.”

  “You see a choice between two safe routes, either expand a successful business, or take over a successful business. You’re not undecided because of the pros and cons of either. It’s because, deep in your heart, you want a third choice…to follow your passion. To pursue the dream job. There are risks involved, but if you don’t do it now, part of you fears you’ll look back and wonder what could have been. And part of you knows you can always return to the safe route, though doing so could mean starting over.”

  She didn’t expect the rumble of laughter that escaped him. “You’re assuming I have a dream job, and that it’s different than what I’m doing now. You know something I don’t?”

  “What I know, Royce Dekker, is that when you told me about your parents going to Africa, you made me think about what I really want and what sacrifices I’m willing to make to get there. I said I’d love to hike near Victoria Falls, and you made me ask myself whether I’m willing to take the steps necessary to do it. You made me realize that it’s not impossible if I make a plan. Your situation is no different. It’s hard when you worry that you’re letting down your family, or that you’re disappointing clients. I know that to go on that hiking trip, I’d have to be out of touch with Queen Fabrizia and trust that I’m not letting her down. But it’s my life, and I get to live it once. Nothing is stopping me from doing a great job for her—one that gives me a lot of self-satisfaction—and exploring the world. The same goes for you.”

  She took a deep breath, then continued. “You say Turkey changed you, killed the adrenaline rush that comes with the action side of your career. But I think it changed you in other ways. It made you cautious. It made you concerned about letting down others. But this isn’t life or death. The stars are out there. You want to study them. You did it at university for fun, and you’re still doing it now. You’re saving for a telescope. Why not do it for a living?”

  As she spoke, her words became more impassioned, and she could feel him growing more and more thoughtful. His fingers moved through her hair, almost as if he were scuffing his fingertips along a tabletop as he turned over a dilemma in his mind. Finally, he said, “I’ve never considered it.”

  This time, she was the one to laugh. “Come on. You named your boat Donati.”

  “Good point.”

  He moved until only the arms of the deck chairs separated their bodies. “Speaking of the Donati, I answered your question about how it got its name. I even answered a bonus question about my job. Now you need to answer my question.”

  She looked at him, perplexed. “Which was?”

  The tips of his fingers moved against her scalp, drawing her mouth within a breath of his. “Is this working?”

  Chapter 24

  Daniela searched his face in the dim light. Royce’s chest tightened even before the words, “What do you think?” left her lips.

  It was exactly the response he’d hoped for. A “yes” would’ve been too simple; a “no” would’ve…well, he knew it wouldn’t be a no.

  From the moment Daniela had slipped into his car tonight, giving him a broad smile before buckling her seat belt and smoothing the fabric of her pink and white dress, they’d shared an awareness that was simultaneously comfortable and filled with sexual tension. Once they were alone on the deck of the boat, it’d turned magical. Her breath had gone shallow as he’d pulled her hand into his. He’d known with absolute certainty that she’d wanted him.

  Even so, she’d put him off long enough to ask about the Donati, and in listening to his answer, to discern what lay hidden in the most recessed parts of his heart. Then to make her point about it. About his future. About the possibilities.

  As much as he’d wanted to pull her amazing body flush to his and indulge himself in her curves and the sensuous taste of her, he’d needed to hear that first.

  For the first time in his life, he felt known.

  His fingers spanned her cheeks and jaw as if he held a delicate, valuable piece of art. In a slant of moonlight, he saw her eyes drift closed. He breathed deeply, etching the image in his memory, then lowered his head so his mouth met hers with the same delicacy as his hands cradled her face.

  Her response was devastating, each brush of her lips against his tender and exploratory, yet left him with no doubt that she wanted more. A lot more.

  A bone-deep sense of satisfaction spread through him as she wended her hand around his side. He remained propped on one elbow as his fingers slid lower. When his palm reached her collarbone, he briefly wondered if she was bothered by the rough texture of his calloused hands against her smoother skin, but if so, she gave no indication. Instead, she stroked his side, exerting increasing pressure as their kiss grew more passionate.

  The metal tubing of their adjacent chair frames prevented him from moving closer, but afforded the space for Daniela to spread one hand over the front of his shirt. Within seconds, the warmth of her skin penetrated the cloth. A hard breath escaped him, his hands returned to her hair, and he parted her lips with his tongue. A shot of heat coursed through him, straight to his core.

  Damn these chairs. He wanted her naked, and he wanted her hands all over him.

  A squeal came from the walkway, far behind Daniela, followed by shouts and laughter. Reluctantly, Royce dragged his mouth to the skin just in front of Daniela’s ear, where he planted a lingering kiss before untangling his hands from her hair.

  More drunken laughter floated through the night air. The party boat had come in, and from the sound of it, the entire group was heading toward the marina gate.

  Without speaking, Royce straightened, extended a hand, and helped Daniela from the deck chair. His fingers laced with hers as he guided her toward the cabin. Once inside, he closed the door, using two hands so the click didn’t carry to the walkway. Darkness enveloped them, but he reached for the wall behind the sink and flipped the switch on the under-cabinet lighting. In the faint yellow glow, he searched her eyes at the same time his hands went to her waist.

  “This all right?”

  He meant both the tight quarters and his hold on her, and could see in her gaze that she understood.

  “More than all right.”

  She leaned in, then her eyes closed. He could see the detailed fan of her lashes as he bent to claim her mouth with his. The tenderness they’d shared on the deck disappeared as his tongue met hers. He gripped her rear and pressed into her, their kisses growing more heated as she dug her fingers into his back, bunching his shirt.

  “I want you, Daniela D’Ambrosio,” he breathed between kisses. “Very much. But if you aren’t ready, it’s—”

  “Dekker.” It was a command for him to shut up.
She pulled back to work the buttons of his shirt. “If I haven’t been obvious enough, I want you, too. I want you stripped and hungry and kissing me everywhere. As soon as possible.”

  She swallowed hard at the end, as if shocked by her own words, though not so much by the truth of them as by the fact she’d said them aloud.

  He’d never heard such perfect sentences in his life.

  By the time she’d freed two more buttons, he could hold still no longer. He cupped one of her breasts, then lowered his head to the thin material of her dress. She gasped, and the sensuality of the sound nearly undid him. He kissed and cradled her a moment longer, then ran his fingers over the wet spot his mouth had created at the front of her dress before he moved to the other side.

  An intoxicated screech followed by gales of laughter echoed from outside. Daniela fisted the bottom of his shirt and pulled it from the back of his pants. Her hands slipped under the fabric. At the scrape of her short nails on either side of his spine, he groaned. He was so hard it hurt.

  With a final caress of her breast, he forced his hands to her hips and buried his face in her hair. Both of them were breathing heavily now, but fighting to control it, to draw out the experience. He also knew he needed to rise above his caveman brain and tread carefully, or it could all implode.

  Into her hair, he said, “If this is too much, or if the cabin feels too tight or overwhelming, tell me—”

  “I’m. Fine.” She eased back enough to see his face, punctuating each word.

  “I know you are. Now.” He’d seen this before, the confidence of a well-trained soldier certain he’d overcome his claustrophobia or had it handled, followed by shock as a sudden resurgence occurred in the midst of a training session inside a tank or a foxhole. Minds were tricky, even Daniela’s, and phobias unpredictable. “Even so, things can change. If they do, promise me you’ll say something immediately.”

  The walkway voices faded. She placed her hand on his chest. “I will. I promise.”

  His hand covered hers, the added pressure driving the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat through to her palm. He dropped his forehead until they were temple to temple, their breath mingling. She moved first, keeping her head to his, but reaching behind her back to start the zipper on her dress.