His Royal Pleasure (3 page)

“Good,” he said. He glazed his thumb over the edge of her lower teeth, and she bit down gently. She saw the approval in his eyes and felt a rush of pleasure. She'd pleased him. Then she pleased herself and suckled. The heaviness in her abdomen surprised her.

“You make it difficult to wait, Katherine,” he muttered in a strained voice. He pulled his hand away and brought hers to his mouth. “But turnabout is fair play, no?”

He kissed the palm of her hand. Then he sucked a finger into his mouth. The sensation drew her nipples tight. Embarrassed, she wondered how to hide it.

“There's no need to hide your desire,
chérie.
It pleases me.” He gave her finger a playful nip and placed her hand on his shoulder. Then he touched one of her nipples.

She gasped. The gentle caress stung. She was too needy, too soon. It made her feel weak and vulnerable.

He seemed to understand. “How long have you been this way?”

“Too long,” she breathed. “Much too long.”

Anger flashed in his eyes, then passed. He pulled her into a comforting hug. She sighed against his white shirt. Beneath her cheek, she felt the beat of his heart, the hard, warm muscle of his chest.

“I'm not like other men. Are you ready for me, Katherine?”

She wasn't sure, but was it a matter of choice? It felt inevitable. She lifted her head. “I don't know what to tell you.”

“What do you want?”

She swallowed and somehow found the courage. “I want to feel your mouth against mine. I want to taste you. I want you to taste me. I want you to want me,” she whispered, realizing she'd made herself completely vulnerable.

“If it's in my power, I will always give you what you want,” he said in a deep, rough voice.

He lowered his mouth, and she waited and wanted. The music began. She felt the first brush of his lips and melted. The wanting got worse.

She reached for him, but her fingers were suddenly empty. He was fading.

She panicked. “No!” she cried, but he'd turned into mist. “Don't go.”

 

The dampness from her eyes woke her. Her breath backed up in her chest, and she blinked hard, staring at her ceiling. “Oh, God.” She threw an arm up over her eyes. “It was just a dream.”

Katherine rolled onto her side and curled into a ball. The anguish still flowed through her. It was worse than a nightmare. Her subconscious had played the most cruel of jokes on her this time. That she could please a man was impossible. God knows, she'd tried every trick in the book with her ex-husband. Making love had been the most awkward, humiliating experience of her life.

Twice now, she'd dreamed of Al and heard that damned music in the background. It was because of that kiss this afternoon. Her lips tingled even now at the memory. She touched them.

Unsettled, she kicked off the covers. She was too warm, yet goose bumps stood up on her skin. Why was this happening to her? What did it mean? She took a deep breath, fighting and accepting the crazy truth. It meant she was vulnerable to Al Sanders, and she'd best watch her step if she didn't want heart trouble.

 

After a busy Saturday spent checking in the new week's campers, Katherine was glad to escape for a late-night swim. She took a little extra time in the ocean, knowing she'd pay for it tomorrow morning. Finally, she reluctantly left the warm, caressing waves.

There was Al standing on the sand, next to her T-shirt. The crazy dream flashed through her mind, and her heart tightened in her chest. Willing herself to relax, she made her way to his side and reached for her balled-up T-shirt. She'd forgotten a towel again.

Al's gaze lingered on her wet, scantily clad body for a long moment, then he draped a towel over her shoulders. “I brought this for you.”

His kindness made her contrite for being so guarded. “Thank you. It's a beautiful night, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Al sat down and patted the sand beside him. “Join me.”

Katherine paused in the act of rubbing herself dry. He'd done it again. Was that a request or an order? Then again, after midnight, who cared?

“I love the ocean,” she said, watching the pulse of the whitecaps against the sand. “During the school year I live in Greensboro. So I really miss it then.”

“You're going to miss it even more when Pirate Island is sold.”

Katherine stiffened. “How—”

“You got a call from Mr. James Logan. He'd heard from someone in Charles City, and he wants to tour the campground with you tomorrow morning at ten o'clock.”

“Tomorrow!” The news hit her like a brick. Even though she knew selling Pirate Island was for the best, taking this next step hurt. She wasn't ready emotionally or logistically.

“Oh, this is just great.” She stood and struggled with her T-shirt. “We've got a ton of children's activities planned tomorrow morning. It's supposed to rain, so all the parents will be dumping their kids on us.” Trying to pull the armhole of the shirt over her head, she made a muffled sound of frustration. “What is wrong with this shirt?”

“I'm sure Chad and the others will cooperate with you once you tell them your plan,” Al said, deftly righting the shirt for her.

She jerked the shirt on and glared at him. “I don't want Chad and the others to know. For that matter I don't want
you
to know. But I guess it's too late for that.”

“And your uncle Jasper?”

Katherine gripped his arm. “Swear you won't tell him.”

“I won't. But you shouldn't have to do this alone. You care too much about this place. You can trust me.”

Katherine stared at him. She almost believed him. He stood there so tall, so sure, so strong. She could feel muscles like steel beneath her fingers. She dropped her hands, but he caught them.

He was getting too close. She felt crowded. She'd always felt more comfortable helping others than being helped. Katherine tried to pull her hands away, but he wouldn't allow it. She pulled her gaze from his instead.

“Let me help you,” Al said in a low murmur that sent goose bumps down her arms. “Call it payback,” he offered. “You took me in when I needed help.”

“I didn't want to.”

“But you did.”

Katherine finally succeeded in pulling away. “I don't know you.”

Al shook his head. “You know me. You told me so yourself. You're not following your instincts.”

Her stomach fluttered, but she held her ground. “My instincts with men haven't been very reliable.”

“Then you must follow
my
instincts.”

Katherine blinked and checked the hard planes of his face. He was serious. “Has anyone ever told you you're the teeniest bit autocratic?”

Alex considered that. “No. People are grateful for my advice.”

“Or maybe they're just too intimidated to point out your arrogance,” she muttered.

Alex was just about to firmly address her breach of protocol when he remembered that Al Sanders wasn't due any special treatment. He stared down at the woman who got under his skin more than any other had and reined in his consternation. “I prefer to call it confidence.”

“Well, I can't argue with that,” she said in a dry tone.

“Are you so frightened of me?”

He watched her face and realized he'd hit a nerve. His quick surge of triumph gave way to something less comfortable. He took her hands again.

“Can't you just leave me alone?” she whispered, hoping to appeal to his mile-wide chivalrous streak.

Alex shook his head.

A lump of dread formed in her throat. The sheer power of his personality overwhelmed her. He was so sure of himself. His hands, she noticed irrelevantly, were warm and firm, just as they'd been in her dream.

He pulled her closer.

Katherine's heart raced.
Oh, no.
Not on the beach. Not when she felt weak and confused.

Not tonight.

Not any time.

It was inevitable, Katherine realized. She braced herself, stiffening her body, closing her eyes and tightly pursing her lips. Then she waited.

For a moment nothing happened. His hands still held hers, his breath mingled with the night breeze against her cheek, and his body emanated heat and power, but he didn't move any closer to her.

Then he rubbed his lips across her cheek and chuckled next to her ear. The tickling vibration of his voice had her curling her head toward her shoulder. She opened her eyes and glared at him for laughing at her.

“You look like you're preparing yourself for a vile-tasting medicine,” he said. “Am I so bad,
chérie?
”

“Very bad,” Katherine shot back. When she realized how tightly she clutched his hands, she struggled to release them.

He ignored her struggles. “Ah, but how can you know when you haven't learned my flavor?”

“I don't wa—”

The rest of her words and breath were lost as his mouth came down on hers. She tried to purse her mouth again, but he sucked her lower lip and darted his tongue across her upper one.

He gave her a moment's respite, and she grabbed it as if it were a lifeline. “Cheater,” she hissed, breathless and angry because of it. “You've got my hands.”

In an instant he released them, but before she could do anything, Al slid his hands through her hair, cradling her head. “It's a sin to see a frown on such a beautiful mouth,” he chided in a velvet tone that sent shivers down her spine.

“I'm sure you're an expert on sin.”

At his soft laughter she balled her fists and thought about bopping him on his hard head. Her ability to move, however, evaporated when he nibbled, then pressed his mouth against hers first one way, then another, and another, until she grew soft beneath him.

He was sipping her like nectar. His tongue explored the tenderness just inside her lips. She felt like a rare delicacy he was savoring to the fullest. Her heart thundered against her chest, and she sighed, dropping her fists in mute surrender.

One of his hands slid down her hair to her bare back, pressing her closer so that she felt the muscles of his chest, the tightness of his abdomen, the power of his thighs and the hard ridge between. And she knew he really wanted her. He wasn't putting on an act that would end up making her feel foolish and humiliated.

“Taste me, Katherine,” he murmured. His voice was needy, irresistibly needy.

She couldn't find the reserves to fight him. Rubbing her tongue against his, she tested the texture of his teeth and the roof of his mouth. He made a gruff, masculine sound of approval.

Needing something to hold on to, she clung to his shoulders, her fingers squeezing restlessly. Her breasts were heavy, and she ached in secret places.

As he mercilessly plundered her mouth, Katherine was lost to everything but him. She felt a clench deep inside her, increasing waves of sensation that threatened to drown her with their intensity.

“Oh, my God,” she moaned, tearing herself from his arms.

Utterly and completely humiliated, she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away gasping for air. For God's sake, what was wrong with her? All he'd done was kiss her.

“Katherine,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She jerked away. “No! Don't touch. Don't talk. Just leave me alone.” She heard the huskiness in both their voices, felt his uneven breath on her shoulder, and nearly cried.

“But you're upset.”

“I'll be okay. Just give me a minute alone.”

He paused. “I can't leave you like this. Not after—”

“Let's not talk about it,” she said desperately. She cringed at the intimacy between them. He was too experienced not to know how aroused she'd been.

“Look at me, Katherine.”

There it was again, the note of command in his voice.

When she looked up at him, his hair was ruffled by the wind, his dark eyes blazing with blunt desire. His cheeks flared with the dusky flush of passion. And as she looked at his swollen lips, she touched her own.

“You're not alone,” he said.

She almost believed him. “Maybe not at this moment, but eventually I will be. It always ends that way.” The breeze cooled her face and gave her strength. “I'm just an ordinary woman who will end up getting hurt.” She paused, shaking her head. “I don't know much about you, Al Sanders, but I know you're not like other men.”

His eyes flickered, then narrowed. The warmth of passion faded to something cold and bleak.

He's angry, she thought. He might even be hurt. The notion didn't sit well. She tried to say something but couldn't think of anything that didn't leave her too vulnerable.

Al turned away, effectively dismissing her.

Something inside her compelled her to go after him.
Don't let him be lonely.
But then she caught herself and forced herself to be still. This man could destroy her.

For several long moments Katherine watched him, her mind and heart pulling in opposite directions. Finally she turned away and walked up the beach, shivering the whole way home, wondering why she felt so empty.

 

The next morning Katherine focused on her upcoming appointment with James Logan. She persuaded Chad and one of her most dependable employees, Suzanne, to help out with the children. Katherine gave them a mile-long list of activities to do while she met with Mr. Logan.

James Logan was a clever, middle-aged resort owner who talked circles around Katherine's sales spiel. He'd griped the entire time. She countered each of his criticisms of the campground with a positive statement.

He didn't like the layout. He didn't like the menu at lunch. He didn't like the color of the paint in the cabins. Katherine just smiled and pointed out that beige didn't show dirt.

He didn't seem to like much of anything. When they'd concluded the excruciatingly thorough tour, he'd said, “I'll call you.” Translated:
You'll never hear from me again.

Katherine was tired enough to be more relieved than disappointed. The only thing she wanted now was a six-hour bath. Her conscience chided her to check on how Suzanne and Chad were doing, so she hustled the rest of the way to the front porch. Pulling off the plastic poncho, Katherine laughed at her wet, mud-splattered appearance. “Give me a white flag,” she murmured to herself.

The sound of applause filtered through the wooden door. Curious, she opened it and caught sight of Chad and a group of little boys playing cards. They were chewing gum and swilling Kool-Aid. A sliver of unease sifted through her. Chad wouldn't teach them poker, would he?

Noting the backs of the cards, Katherine relaxed. Old Maid.

She pushed the door open wider. The activity on the other side of the room stopped her midmotion. A lamp, minus its shade, perched on a low stool. A small army of boys and girls holding switches lunged and feinted as if sword fighting. Their movements created a dancing display of shadows on the far wall.

Al called out and showed them a movement. They stopped to watch, then, in unison, imitated his precision with childlike awkwardness.

“En garde,”
he said in a commander's voice.

“En garde,”
they returned, and copied his bow.

A chill ran down her spine.

The whole scene carried an air of unreality. Al feinted and parried with his imaginary opponent, moving with agility and skill. His shadow looked larger than life. She could almost imagine him in times of old, protecting, defending, conquering.

His powerful body flexed with tension. His face was set with concentration. This was no game for him, Katherine sensed. It made her wonder about him. Who was he? Why was he here? What did he want from her?

He lunged and took the killing stroke through the heart of his victim. The room cheered. He turned, faced the crowd and gave a brief bow.

Chad came up beside her.

Katherine forced her gaze to her brother. “How'd it go?”

He shrugged. “Not bad. Big Napoleon here got everyone straight this morning.”

“Big Napoleon?”

Chad grinned, pleased with himself. “Yeah. It's my new nickname for him. Pretty clever, huh?”

“Very clever,” Katherine said. “Have you shared it with Al?”

“Hell, no. I'm not an idiot. He's great with a sword, and I've got strong survival instincts. Which,” he added darkly, “is why I didn't drink any coffee this morning. Al fixed it, and it tasted like sh—” He broke off, glancing over his shoulder at the wide-eyed children who stood behind them. He lowered his voice. “Horrible. If you have an ounce of concern for my health or our coffeemaker, you'll make it before he does.”

Katherine laughed. “Okay. I hear you.”

Chad looked at Al again. “We ought to get him to be a pirate in that skit we always used to do.” Chad paused. “He's looking at you.”

Her chest tightened. “I'll ask him about the skit,” she said. She didn't want to look at Al. She was afraid that she would turn into a quivering mass of Jell-O.

“He's still looking at you.”

“Thanks for telling me,” she muttered, resigning herself.
Time to face the music, chickie.
Anticipation is usually worse than reality, she told herself.

When she looked up and met his deep, dark gaze, though, her heart seemed to stop. Standing tall, with that sword in his hand, he looked every inch the conquering male. But his eyes were tentative, asking, not demanding, and her defenses melted like butter in the sun.

He held out his hand for her to join him.

She didn't hesitate. She'd have to think about that later. She just walked forward and let him take her hand. He held it firmly and whispered in her ear, “How did it go with Logan?”

“Horrible,” she said, relieved he wasn't going to refer to what had happened between them last night. “I—I didn't know you could fence.”

His jaw tightened, but he kept his voice light. “There are many things you don't know about me.”

Katherine trembled and pulled her hand away. She didn't like the way she felt—light-headed, flushed, out of control. And he'd merely touched her hand. “How true,” she returned.

He must have felt her response. Al smiled slowly, all male confidence now. “You can trust me.”

Katherine shook her head. “I don't know that.”

“You need me,” he insisted.

“Pirate Island needs you,” she corrected. “We'd like you to be a pirate in our Wednesday-night skit. The guests have missed it. Uncle Jasper always coordinated it before. We've got a bunch of new employees this year, so no one knows how to pull it off. You could coach the others in fencing, and Chad could direct.”

Al flicked the sword through the air thoughtfully. She noticed it was one that had been hanging on the wall. “What do I get in return?” he finally asked.

Her chest felt tight at the look in his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Your trust.”

She shook her head automatically. He might as well ask for one of her lungs.

“No.” He lifted his shoulders in a masculine shrug. “What a shame. You'll have to find someone else.”

Exasperation swept through her. “But—”

“You're not being equitable. You want something from me when you'll give me nothing.”

“I'll pay you,” Katherine offered.

The children began to get restless. “Do the sword again, Mr. Al,” one called.

“Yeah, do it again,” another one said.

“It's up to you,” Al said to Katherine.

The kids got louder, and Katherine vacillated. This was crazy. She hardly knew the man.

“I can't,” she whispered.

“Then I guess we're at a stalemate.” He turned to the children. “That's all for today, kids. Talk to Katherine if you want to learn more. She's in charge.”

Past a chorus of moans and protests, she glared at him.

He grinned.

Fearing a riot, she grabbed his arm as he began to leave. “There's got to be something else you want.” She cringed at how suggestive that sounded. “Something like Saturday nights off, or the use of my car.”

He thought it over for a moment and nodded. “Saturday nights off, yes. And the use of your car. Add one more thing.”

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“Answer my questions.”

Katherine was nonplussed. She'd been certain he'd ask for something more, perhaps something provocative.

“Katherine?” Al prompted.

Heat scorched her cheeks, and she drew a breath of thanks that he couldn't read minds. Answering questions wasn't difficult. After all, she'd led a pretty boring life except for her brief marriage, and she'd developed a pat uninformative response due to countless inquiries she'd received from reporters. It seemed harmless enough. Two children pulled on her leg and asked for cookies.

Katherine shrugged. “Fine.”

He gave her a devastating smile and garnered the attention of the entire room simply by clapping his hands together and picking up the sword. He had such a powerful, commanding presence that even she was awed. The cookies were forgotten, and Katherine wondered again what she'd just gotten herself into.

 

That evening Katherine skipped her late-night swim and watched a movie on television. Since Chad was in hot pursuit of Suzanne, Katherine and Al shared the evening together.

It should have been comfortable. After a long, hot bath and dinner, she should have been happy and relaxed. They both sat on the plaid sofa, she on one end, he on the other. But Al's proximity unsettled her, and her gaze kept wandering to him.

His hair was damp and ruffled from a shower. He'd changed into a pair of khaki canvas shorts and a yellow pullover. There was nothing seductive about his clothing. Still, she noticed how the yellow of his shirt contrasted with his tanned skin. The gap left by his open collar hinted at the dark chest hair beneath.