Royally Claimed

chapter 11

Fashionista Magazine: The Royal Review:

WHAT WEDDING DRESS HAS Princess Stefania chosen? That’s the burning question for our readers (and the designers poised to create instant knock-offs). We at The Royal Review have heard some hints, but everyone, even our own beloved Countess Lily de Brissard, is exasperatingly mum.



Princess Stefania has confirmed that she’s wearing a dress designed by her brother’s lady-love, New Yorker Renata Pavoni. Renata, who just may be Stefania’s sister-in-law someday, is known for hip dresses with a retro flair. A trip to her website at Peacock Designs shows white, pink, ivory and even black-and-white dresses, full skirts and heaps of crinolines. Perhaps our modern princess is going for a vintage vibe?



Whatever the princess chooses is sure to be a trendsetter for upcoming brides. Renata, a stunning redhead who has kept infuriatingly quiet about her reportedly steamy relationship with Prince Giorgio, told us, “It’s always been my goal to offer fun, beautiful dresses for brides. Every woman is a princess on her wedding day. Stefania is so beautiful—she’s a dream to dress. But you won’t see her wedding gown until her groom does!”



THE NEXT MORNING, JULIA heard a car horn toot outside her parents’ apartment and hastily zipped her duffel bag. Frank had arrived to take her back to Belas Aguas after their unplanned overnight on São Miguel.

Despite his claim that she could go naked on his island and he would be perfectly happy, Julia wanted more clothing for variety’s sake. They still hadn’t discussed how long she might stay, but once her parents came home, her libertine carousing was done.

A knock sounded at the door. “Julia, meu bem, it’s me,” Frank called.

She opened the door and pulled him into her arms, her hands roaming over the soft dark blue cotton of his T-shirt.

“Hey, hey.” His startled laugh was cut off by her passionate kiss. His lips moved sweetly over hers and he backed her into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind her. She finally let go of him and he lifted his head. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

She ducked her head, suddenly shy. “I’m just glad to see you.”

“And I’m glad to see you, too.” He caressed her cheek with his strong thumb. “Did you miss me?”

“Well, yes.” She gave him a mock grumpy stare. “You could have stayed here last night.”

“No.” His tone was uncompromising. “It would embarrass your parents to have the single Duke of Santas Aguas stay overnight unchaperoned in their apartment with their single daughter. I wouldn’t dishonor them that way.”

“Oh, Frank,” she scoffed. “Who thinks about that nowadays?”

“We Portuguese do. Do you want the neighbors gossiping about your parents?”

“No, but they know I’m staying at Belas Aguas with you.”

“Out of sight, out of mind. Even if the neighbors comment on that, and I’m sure they do,” he added dryly, “your parents will know that we had enough respect for them and their home to behave properly there.”

It was sweet to consider her parents’ feelings and reputation, even if she had tossed and turned all night without him. “How was the hotel?”

“Lonely.” His mouth pulled down. “And since we were at the hospital until after midnight, they had to put me in a broom closet of a room next to what sounded like the main water pipe for the whole building. It roared any time a guest brushed their teeth or flushed the toilet.”

“Oh, poor Franco.” But she couldn’t stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, I can tell you’re all broken up about it.” He picked up her duffle bag. “Maybe we should just head for the island instead of to the surprise I have planned for you.”

“Another surprise? You don’t have to do that if we need to return to the villa.”

“As much as I enjoyed our trip to Furnas yesterday, several hours at the emergency room last night were not what I call the perfect ending to a perfect day. I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Okay, then.” Julia was willing to be talked out of a day of painting over deep red paint splotches. She locked the front door and made sure it closed tightly. Without Senhor de Sousa to keep an eye on things, she would have to rely on mechanical theft deterrents. “Frank, we should call the hospital before we go…wherever we’re going. I want to know how Senhor de Sousa is doing, but I wasn’t sure if anyone there spoke English.”

“I already stopped there this morning after I traded the motorcycle for the car.” He held her elbow with his free hand as they descended the outside stairs. “He is doing about as well as they can expect, but the doctor told me he has excellent chances of nearly full recovery. Your quick reaction allowed them to almost totally dissolve the clot in his brain and prevent further damage.”

“Oh, Frank!” They were on the sidewalk now and she threw her arms around his neck. “How wonderful!” She planted a big smooch on his cheek. “That’s exactly why I went into emergency medicine—saving lives and making a difference.”

“Of course.” His smile seemed a bit strained, and she felt guilty for tooting her own horn thanks to someone else’s misfortune.

“But I wouldn’t have known what was going on without you telling me he was speaking gibberish in Portuguese and being able to call the ambulance so quickly.”

He put her bag in the backseat of the loaner car, a white compact. “I can call the hospital later since you will want to follow the progress of your patient. But he’s in the best of hands at the hospital, so you can put your mind at ease.” He opened the passenger door and settled her into the seat.

“Thank you, Frank.”

“No thanks necessary.” He went around to the driver’s side and started the engine.

“Where did you say we’re going?”

“I didn’t.” He grinned at her and acted as a tour guide, pointing out various historic churches and government buildings as they cruised across town. The scent of flowers floated into the car on a gentle breeze stirring the morning air. She sighed in happiness.

“Are we going back to the park for more pastries?”

“Pastries and kisses?” he teased.

Her face heated and she swatted his thigh. He covered her hand with his. “Not here, meu bem. I have to concentrate on my driving.”

“Frank!” She yanked her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can distract me later.” But the traffic did thicken as they passed through the crowded center of town, braking for pedestrians and reckless drivers as they went.

“This is the road to the airport. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Nope.” But that was all he’d say despite her pestering him the rest of the way into the airport parking lot and finally the terminal.

He stopped in front of the counter that listed that its next flight was to the island of Terceira. “Terceira!” she squealed. “Frank, I haven’t been to Terceira since I was a kid.” That island, about ninety miles from São Miguel, was home to a small joint Portuguese–U.S. Air Force base where her dad had been stationed for a couple of years. The Azores had been an important refueling pit stop for transatlantic flights ever since the 1930s.

Their flight to Terceira on a small commuter plane was short but slightly bumpy. Fortunately Julia had taken more airplane rides than ninety percent of the population and wasn’t fazed at all. She did enjoy holding his hand, even if she wasn’t nervous.

They touched down smoothly on the runway and within a few minutes were driving away in a small rental car. “The airport’s much different than I remember—they’ve remodeled it since we were last here.”

“Nothing stays the same,” Frank told her. “Not even my villa on Belas Aguas that was firmly stuck in the past, décor-wise.”

“Benedito did his best to update that. And we still need to tackle his Experiments in Red, kind of like Picasso’s Blue Period. Or maybe not.”

He groaned. “Oh, yes, he’s just too avant-garde and hip for a stuffy aristocrat like me.”

Julia laughed. “You just can’t appreciate an artiste ahead of his time.”

“Here’s the base entrance. Would you like to see if they’ll let us drive onto the base?”

“That would be wonderful.” After being thoroughly vetted from their driver’s licenses and the rental car inspected top and bottom, the base’s guards gave them a temporary pass and let them through.

Julia eagerly scanned the base, recognizing some of the older buildings. “They’ve added a new hotel and I think that office building is new.” Her eyes started to sting at being back at one of her childhood homes. She’d had so many and had never returned to any of those air bases, a typical military kid. “Oh, Frank.”

“I know, I know.” He patted her knee. “That office building is ugly enough to make you cry. Why, oh, why can’t they find good architects?”

She burst into laughter at his attempt to cheer her. The office building was really ugly, but she was so used to military architecture that she barely noticed. “I’m glad you brought me.” She wiped her eyes.

“I’ve been to Terceira before but not visited the base.” Frank looked around in interest. “This is a little American town in the middle of the Azores. Some of the houses look kind of Azorean, but the rest is solidly American.”

Julia pointed to the green hills behind the base. “And that is solidly Azorean. But the American airmen and the Azorean townspeople get along very well.”

“Just like you and me.” Frank pulled over near a small playground where preschoolers swung and climbed. “A good mix of America and the Azores.” He took her hand. “Have you thought any more about visiting me at my ranch?”

Julia bit her lip and immediately let go, but he’d spotted her nervousness. “Yes, I have thought about it and it sounds fun.” That was an understatement. “But I still have my job back in Boston. I’ve been gone quite a while already and I need to go back as soon as I’m able.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line. “I know you love your work, but it’s dangerous. You’re the perfect example of someone who is only trying to help people and gets terribly injured. You could have been killed.”

“I’m not ready to give up my work.” It’s the only thing I have, she almost said. She took a deep breath, realizing that wasn’t true. She had her family and her friends. And now she had Frank. She looked out the car window at the children, screaming with glee. “But I will think about coming to the mainland to see your estate. It sounds lovely.”

He grinned at her compromise. She wasn’t very good at compromising, so she must have startled him. “It is lovely, sunny, warm and dry almost year round. At the top of one of the hills you can see twenty miles in all directions, the land spreading out below you like a brown-and-green quilt.”

After a long, cold Boston winter, sunny, warm and dry was magic to her ears.

Her stomach growled and Frank laughed. “Can I bribe you further with lunch?” He started the car and drove away from the playground.

“Yes, but let’s go off base for that. The restaurant here specializes in cheeseburgers and sandwiches, and I’d like to try the local food.”

He agreed and they finished their driving tour of the airbase. Julia made a silent vow to visit some of the other places she’d lived as a child. She’d parked herself in Boston for years and not traveled out of New En gland, maybe as a reaction to moving so often when she was younger.

Frank drove out of the gates and toward the town. The village was crowded for a weekday, and they finally slipped into a parking space on a side street.

“I wonder what’s going on today.” Julia looked up and down the sidewalk. Young men laughed and jostled each other while the young women pranced along the uneven sidewalk.

“Must be a festival.” Frank spotted an older woman selling fruit drinks from a cart and started chatting with her. He broke into a grin, his white teeth flashing.

Julia raised her eyebrows when he returned, excitement pulsing through him. “What is it?”

“There are going to be bullfights throughout the day and everyone is welcome to try.”

“Bullfights?” Julia had a hazy memory of her dad warning her to stay away from them.

“Not the Spanish kind, meu bem,” he reassured her. “The Azorean kind where the bull doesn’t get hurt. Just a little bit annoyed.” He laughed. “Annoyed bulls—my favorite kind.”

“You’re not thinking of fighting them, are you?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not a fight—more of a taunt.”

She shook her head. “You have to be crazy to consider it.”

“I know what I’m doing and I’m sober, unlike most of the guys here. Besides, you’re not the only one with a taste for danger.”

She pursed her lips like a fussy old lady.

“Oh, the look on your face.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tight mouth. She relaxed grudgingly and he gave her one last kiss before letting her go.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Franco,” she told him, using her pet name for him.

“If you think I want to get gored or stepped on, think again. Hard to make love to you with broken ribs,” he murmured seductively.

“You do know how to charm an emergency room nurse,” she said wryly. “Maybe they’re finished for the day?”

“No, they usually bring three or four bulls and rotate them.”

“Great.”

He laughed and hurried her down the street. “Come on, you’ll like it.”

The street was barricaded to traffic a couple blocks later, leftover cardboard tied to protect decorative railings. Julia realized that was so the bull couldn’t stick his horns through and possibly gore someone.

Spectators perched on high walls and grassy areas. “This is where they bring the bull? This tiny space where you can’t even fit two cars across?”

“This is it.” His eyes were sparkling and he spotted an empty space behind a fence. He boosted her over despite her increasingly loud protests. “Stay here unless the bull’s coming at you.”

She called his name but he waved and trotted toward the large wooden pen at the end of the street. Someone set off a firework rocket and the bull exploded out of the pen to the cheer of the crowd.

The bull was glossy and black with blunted horns, a rope knotted around its neck. Julia’s gaze followed the rope to see four or five men in traditional flat-brimmed hats and white long-sleeved shirts holding the other end. She hoped they knew what they were doing. And that the rope held.

Frank let the other men on the street dart close to the bull and then sprint away as the animal wheeled to chase them. He was probably gauging the bull’s reactions and temperament. After a minute or so, he was in the thick of it. Julia bit back scream after scream as he ran toward the bull and circled away at the last second. Once he even affectionately touched the angry animal’s snout, almost as if it were his pet.

“You maniac,” she muttered, her nails digging into her palms. He probably did this at home at his fazenda for fun, minus the rope.

A younger man, probably still a teenager, slipped and went down right in front of the bull. Frank was there in a flash to distract the animal, grabbing both of his horns and yanking him away so he was forced to step sideways. The bull snorted in anger and tossed his head, lifting Frank off his feet and bouncing him back down on the ground. That time she did scream, a short cry she muffled with her hands. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she distracted him and he was hurt. Or even killed.

For a second Julia thought he would slip under the bull’s hooves, but the men holding the rope pulled the bull back just enough for Frank to vault past the bull like some kind of circus acrobat.

The crowd roared its appreciation for Frank’s bravery and fine bull-handling skills. He gave a cheerful wave without glancing around, still focused on that damn bull.

If he hurt Frank, Julia would make him into hamburger.

Now that the bull was wearing out, some of the older men took their turn and Frank gracefully stepped back.

He came toward Julia and easily leaped up to where she gripped the fence. “What did you think, meu bem?”

“Franco Duarte, you just took ten years off my life with that stunt. If you think I’m going to—mmmph!” She broke off as he grabbed her and kissed her.

A cheer went up around them as he claimed her mouth, claimed her, with his blatant, masculine power. Julia yelped and he took advantage of her open mouth to deepen their kiss, his tongue teasing hers briefly.

Her fingers crept into his dark, silky hair and she pressed against his hard chest. Now that he was out of danger she could admit that watching him challenge the dangerous animal had excited her.

She ran her hands down the strong shoulders and arms that had lifted him safely around the bull.

He lifted his head with a jerk, realizing they had an audience. Julia caught someone murmur “Duke of Santas Aguas,” and Frank grinned ruefully. “My secret bullfighting identity is blown. If only I had a cape.”

She laughed at his joke, and he pulled her into his side to greet the people around them. As always, he was friendly and cheerful, introducing her as Senhorina Julia, who had lived on the air base as a child. That made the local Terceirans even more appreciative and it was several minutes before Frank and Julia could move toward a quieter part of town.

“That was crazy. You are crazy.” Julia shook her head.

“I told you I’d done this before.” He raised their linked fingers and kissed her knuckles. “I know bulls.”

“You’re full of bull,” she accused him. “But you saved that boy from being trampled, so I forgive you for putting me through that.”

“Thank you, meu bem. I’ll treat you to lunch to make up for scaring you.”

“And dessert.” She wasn’t a pushover.

“Certainly. I booked us a hotel room here so we wouldn’t have to hurry back to São Miguel for the night.”

She smiled. “Hopefully our room is far from the main water pipe.”

He brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I made sure of it.”



TWO DAYS LATER, JULIA stretched in bed, the early morning light reflecting off the mercifully taupe walls. Frank was gone, but he never went far. They’d worked hard getting the master bedroom back into a civilized appearance.

The smell of coffee wafted upstairs and she smiled to hear his baritone humming get louder. He poked his head around the bedroom door and grinned when he saw that she was awake. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He carried in a dark wooden tray with two steaming cups and pastries on a plate. He wore his customary khaki shorts and unbuttoned white linen shirt that showed off his rich, dark skin.

She checked the clock, which had been flipped over at some point last night. “Nine o’clock? Why did you let me sleep so late? We have work to do.” She sat up in bed and wrapped the sheet around her.

He made an exasperated noise and carefully set the tray on the bed next to her. Rich pastries with powdered sugar and jellies made her mouth water. “Work, work, work. We have done the most important job, which was to cover up Benedito’s awful experiment in color selection. The new mattresses and bedding are on their way and fortunately the floors are stone and not covered with wall-to-wall pink carpet. Everything is good.” He handed her a thick red-and-blue pottery cup. “Drink.”

Julia accepted gladly. He had put exactly the right amount of cream and sugar in hers, which made her heart swell a bit. His coffee was deepest black, but she knew it always sweetened up a bit thanks to his habit of dipping a corner of his pastry. “If you don’t want to work today, what do you want to do?”

His significant expression made her pink up a bit. “Besides that, Frank!”

“What?” He gave her an innocent look. “I thought we could go to the beach on this beautiful sunny day.”

“The beach,” she mused. “I haven’t gotten much sun lately.”

“You see?” He pointed a pastry at her. “Good for your Vitamin D and your mood, correct?”

“Are you saying I’m moody?”

He held a pastry up to her mouth and she took a bite. “You are always in the perfect mood for me.”

She harrumphed but bit off a piece of…yum…pineapple-filled Danish. “Okay,” she said, once her mouth was empty. “You’ve talked me into it.”

“Great. We’ll pack a lunch and eat at that little cove south of here. Swim, sun, whatever we want.” He settled next to her on the bed and chatted to her about weather patterns on the island, migrating birds and whatever he found interesting and thought she might, too.

It was soothing and domestic to watch him drink down his coffee and gesture with his pastry as he strewed crumbs across their bed. Almost as if they were an old married couple that had settled into an easy morning routine. She had never had that with a man before.

“More coffee?” He pointed at her empty cup and she shook her head.

“I should get up and get ready.”

“What’s to get ready? Go to your bathroom and put your suit on.”

“Frank…” Really, he knew better after having four younger sisters, five if he counted Stefania.

“Fine.” He heaved a sigh and gathered the plates and cups. “I’ll be downstairs ruining my hands in the dishwater if you need me.” The kitchen had a perfectly functional electric dishwasher.

“Your hands are fine.”

He winked and hopped out of bed. “That’s what certain people tell me.”

She chucked a cabbage-rose pillow at his head and he darted out of the bedroom, roaring with laughter. She couldn’t stop giggling as well as she dug out her swimsuit and headed for the bathroom.



FRANK HELPED JULIA OUT OF the heavy-duty golf cart as they reached the dune above the beach. “Go down to the water. I’ll bring the supplies.”

She slung her totebag over her shoulder and stepped into the sand, her white linen cover-up blowing in the breeze. Belas Aguas had beautiful soft white beaches, unlike some of the other islands that had dark, volcanic sand or rocky coasts. The sand was cool and damp against her feet as she sunk into the top few inches.

Frank had packed enough gear to cross the Sahara instead of one small Atlantic beach, so she left him to it and picked her way down the dune to the water’s edge.

She stopped and stared at the horizon. Straight south of them was…nothing. Just cold seawater, until the ice of the South Pole. She shivered, not quite knowing why that bothered her. She quickly turned east, taking some comfort that Portugal and Africa were there, if thousands of miles away.

Frank came up next to her. He wore an unbuttoned cream cotton shirt over snug black swim shorts, a light dusting of dark hair highlighting the smooth tan skin underneath. “That’s the problem with island living. You look out to sea and think, ‘Here I am, alone on this rock, with nothing but water and birds around me.’”

She turned to him. “You feel that way, too?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I told you I don’t come here often. Maybe that’s part of the reason—it makes me morose.”

“You? You’re so sunny and cheerful.”

“I have my moments, like everyone.” He kissed the top of her head. “Here, sit.” He unfolded a low-slung beach chair and settled it into the sand. “I have to set up the cabana.”

She craned her neck. “You brought a cabana?”

“Of course. We always bring one so my mother and the kids can get out of the sun. My mother is deathly afraid of sun damage and wrinkles and the kids get fussy unless they can lie down to rest in the shade.” He knelt in the sand and unzipped a white equipment bag, pulling out what looked like a mass of poles and matching white fabric.

“Do you need help? That looks complicated.”

“Super easy.” He extended several poles and quickly raised a square-topped, open tent as if it were a giant umbrella, hanging weights from each pole. “All I have to do is put on the sides and we’re good.”

Out came more white fabric and he snapped three sides to the top frame until they had a cozy little tent. He unrolled an area rug and set up a couple more chairs inside. A small portable music player, food cooler and side table followed.

“This looks like a sheik’s desert palace. Is this where the dancing girls come prancing in?”

He grinned. “Are you volunteering?” He took off his shirt and stood in front of her in only his short shorts.

“Maybe later.” She winked at him.

“Too bad.” He pouted. “I’ll be here if you change your mind. Or maybe I can change it for you.”

“You probably could,” she muttered. “You’re very persuasive.”

“Only with you, Julia.”

He had said that before. Despite the fact that he was one of Europe’s most eligible bachelors and probably had women fling themselves at him regularly, she believed him. “Thank you, Frank.”

“No need to thank me for the truth.” He beckoned her into the cabana. “Here, come put your things inside and have some sangria.”

“Yum.” She didn’t resist when he poured her a mix of red wine and fruit juice, full of chunks of pears, apples and oranges.

“Not too much, though,” he cautioned. “Sun and wine can be a potent combination. I don’t want you to get a headache.”

“And I don’t want one, either.” She settled into a lounge chair. “I haven’t had one in several days, and I sure haven’t missed them.”

“You see? The Azores are healing you—you should extend your stay.”

She shook her head and laughed. “You’re incorrigible.” More likely it was Frank’s presence healing her. Ever since she’d come to Belas Aguas, the weight that had been sitting on her chest had lifted, only settling back briefly if she thought too much about what would happen when it came time for her to leave.

But it was too beautiful today to worry about that, even though she was a world-champion worrier. Frank lifted his glass of sangria in a toast and they clinked glasses.

She set hers down in the sand and yawned after she finished the sangria. “Let’s get into the water before I fall asleep.”

He was up on his feet before she finished her sentence, tugging her up from the chair. “First, you have to ditch the cover-up. I want to see your suit.”

She grabbed the hem and slowly pulled it up and over her head, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as she revealed her yellow string bikini.

“Swimming’s canceled.” He hustled her back into the cabana and made as if to close the front flap.

She wriggled away from him and dashed to leave.

He caught up with her in seconds and together they hurried down the beach and ran into the ocean hand-in-hand.

Julia screamed as the cool water splashed up around them. “Franco!” She hopped from foot to foot until either she adjusted to the temperature or went numb.

“Sorry, Julia.” He didn’t sound apologetic at all. “This is the Atlantic, not the Caribbean.” He bent and splashed seawater up at her and she kicked some at him in return.

“Frank, I’m getting goosebumps all over,” she complained, crossing her arms over her middle.

“I happen to like your goosebumps.” His gaze was focused on her breasts. Even through the light padding in the bikini, her nipples were visible peaks. He caught her around the waist and pulled her in close. Her legs automatically wrapped around him. “And can I tell you how much I like your bikini?”

“I can tell you’re sincere.” She wiggled against his erection, the biggest proof of his sincerity.

“Oh, I am sincere.” His fingers played with the nape of her neck. “Can I tell you how much I sincerely want to take your new bikini off?” He pulled the neck string and the yellow triangles were floating between them. “Very nice.” He stroked his fingers down her neck to her collarbone and then across the plump upper curves of her breasts.

“I float.”

He laughed. “Easier for me to reach.” He cupped each breast, his thumbs gliding over her wet nipples to tease them into hard peaks.

She arched back and enjoyed his warm hands playing over her. The water supported her weight so it was almost as if she were floating in midair. The water didn’t feel so cold anymore against her super-sensitized skin. In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam rising from the ocean around them.

He dipped his head and captured a nipple in his mouth. She yelped in pleasure and grabbed his shoulders to keep from sinking. He found a side tie to her suit bottom and loosened it, finding her own wetness underneath.

She almost went underwater at that point, but he let go of her breast and braced her again. “Ever wonder how mermaids make love?”

“Why don’t you show me?”

He found her *, circling and petting it. Occasionally the cool water swept over her, making her shudder in delicious shock. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her neck, flicking her earlobe with his tongue.

“Oh, Franco.” She sighed, closing her eyes. It was perfection being in his arms under the warm sky. He murmured her name and kept touching her until she clutched at him, her climax pouring over her in a giant wave. He anchored her to the ground but let her fly toward the sun in pleasure.

He gathered her into his arms and carried her out of the water toward the cabana.

“Put me down, Frank.” She dropped to her knees in front of him in the sand, her fingers hooking over his waistband, the scrap of black fabric begging to be released. So she did, pulling the wet material down to his knees.

He caught her shoulders but couldn’t move his legs for fear of tripping. “Julia, wait…”

She was eye-to-eye, so to speak, with the pride of the Dukes of Santas Aguas. They must have been a virile bunch, if Frank was any indicator. “Good grief, Frank. However did you get all of that in your suit?” He was hard and thick, pearly fluid rising from him like foam on the seawater.

He gave a choked laugh. “I wasn’t like this when I put it on. Now come on, stand up.”

“No.” She sank onto her haunches and resisted his efforts to raise her. “Stop fussing, Frank.” His outraged squawk turned into a groan when she put her mouth on him. His skin was cool and salty from the ocean, quickly warming as she swirled her tongue around him.

She lifted her head and smiled up at his face, pulled into taut lines.

He broke then, kicking his suit free and picking her up as she squealed his name. He carried her toward the tent, but she stopped him. “No, here.”

“On the beach?” He gave her a sly smile. “Between the woods and the beach, you’re turning into a real nature girl.” He set her on her feet and grabbed a blanket out of the cabana. He tossed down the blanket and tugged the corners to smooth it.

Julia untied the rest of the bikini strings and lay down next to Frank. “You’re so beautiful.” She stroked his face, and he actually started to blush.

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“You are.” She rolled onto her back, the sand soft under the blanket. “Make love to me under the sun, Franco.”

He swallowed hard and moved on top of her. “Julia, open for me.”

She eagerly did, and he slid into her. His thrusts were hard and possessive, making her gasp with pleasure. She tightened down on him and he groaned, his skin turning slick with sweat.

“Come with me, Julia. I can’t wait much longer.” He balanced his weight on one strong arm and stroked her sensitive nub again. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked with him, becoming one with him. His fingers teased and caressed her, and her climax built again. He noticed and thrust harder.

She cried his name as she came. He groaned in relief and followed, the sounds of their pleasure swirling in the air like the calls of the seabirds.

Frank rested his head next to hers, his breath still choppy and fast. Julia kissed his cheek and stared up into the sky. This was pure perfection—if only life could be like this forever. She shoved her worries away, determined not to let them intrude again as she held her wonderful man in her arms.