A Royal Temptation

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“I promise, Princess.”

She nodded. “I know you mean what you say. So yes, I accept your offer.”

* * *

The next morning, Portia informed the concierge that she’d be checking out earlier than expected from Villa Delgado and offered her thanks for his accommodations. He’d questioned her, hoping she hadn’t been disappointed in her stay, and she assured him that was not the case. She’d been called away unexpectedly, she explained. And his brows arched as if he’d suspected King Montoro had something to do with her sudden departure.

And so, her adventure was beginning. Dressed for the search, wearing a pair of Gucci jeans and a red plaid shirt tucked in and belted at the waist, she swopped out her Bruno Magli shoes for tall leather boots and stood outside the villa at precisely eight o’clock. Sunglasses shielding her eyes, her bags packed and ready to go, she gave one last glance to the Atlantic shoreline and the clear azure waters lapping the sands. There would be no five-star accommodations where she was going. She was told to expect rustic and that was fine with her. She’d gone camping before; she knew how to rough it.

Sort of. Jasmine had convinced her once to rent a motor home and they’d trekked as far as Pismo Beach, California. They’d parked the giant thing facing the ocean, and then had gone out for lunch and dinner every night. They’d hit a few clubs, too, dancing until dawn. So maybe that wasn’t roughing it per se.

But they had cooked their own breakfasts and hiked the beach in the mornings. Did that count?

One of Juan Carlos’s bodyguards drove up in a black SUV, right on time. Poker-faced, he promptly opened the door for her and she got into the backseat as he hoisted her luggage into the cargo space.

As they drove off, she sat quietly in the car, enjoying the sounds of morning, excitement flowing through her veins.

She’d taken Juan Carlos at his word. He would treat her as a professional and so she had nothing to fear and everything to look forward to. Her little heartfelt speech seemed to convince him that she wasn’t looking for romantic involvement. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been hard admitting her failings to him. He’d put her at ease and that was saying something, since she didn’t go around revealing her innermost feelings to anyone but her best friend.

They drove away from the shore, through the streets of Playa del Onda and onto a highway that led inland. “Excuse me. When will we be picking up King Montoro?” she asked Eduardo, the driver-slash-bodyguard.

“His Majesty will be meeting you there,” he said.

Ah...discretion.

“Is it a long drive?”

“Not overly so. We should arrive in less than an hour. Is there anything you need, Princess?”

“No, no. I’m perfectly comfortable.”

She gazed out the window taking in the scenery, where residential streets were soon replaced by more rural-looking spaces. As the minutes ticked by, the groomed vegetation bordering the road gave way to untamed brush and wildflowers. There was a certain neglected beauty to the land that inspired her. The road though was becoming less and less car friendly. The tires spit broken gravel as they traveled along a bumpy country road.

“Sorry, Princess,” Eduardo said. “The road is washed out from here on.”

“Is it much longer?”

“No, just another mile or two.”

And shortly, he turned onto a path and drove through wrought-iron gates clawed by fingers of dead branches and vines. Weeds and overgrown scrub led to a two-story house in desperate need of a good solid paint job. Banging sounds reached her ears and she searched for the source as the car came to a stop in front of the house. Juan Carlos appeared on the porch holding a hammer, his shirt slung open and sweat glistening on his beautiful bronzed chest. His dark hair gleaming under the October sunshine, he gave her a wide welcoming smile.

She sucked oxygen in. If she could slither away in a trembling mass, she would. She could order Eduardo to turn the car around, drive and keep on driving until she forgot the exact chestnut color of Juan Carlos’s eyes, the deep dark shine of his hair and the powerful rock-solid muscle of his body.

She bit her lower lip until it pained her.

As he made his approach, she bucked up and remembered why she was here, and the promise Juan Carlos had made to her. Now, if she could get her heart to stop racing...

“Welcome,” he said, opening the door wide for her. He offered her his hand and helped her out of the car. Eyes shining, his smile broadened. “I hope your trip wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“No, no. It was fine,” she said, looking beyond him to the house.

“Sorry about my appearance.”

She nearly choked on her own saliva. Was he kidding?

“I found some loose planks on the porch. They could be dangerous.”

“You’re handy with a hammer?”

“You sound surprised. Actually, I had a lot of odd jobs in my younger days. My uncle believed in hard work and I was always employed during my college years.”

“Doing?”

“All sorts of things. Remind me to tell you about the time I worked at a strip club in Miami.”

“You were a stripper?”

The image of him shedding his clothes made her mouth water.

“I didn’t say that. But I sure got a quick education.” Her eye fluttered and he squeezed her hand. “There’s that wink again. I’m very happy you’re here, Portia.”

“It’s not a wink,” she assured him.

He smiled again and released her hand. Breath quietly swooshed out of her mouth.

“Let me assure you, the inside of the house is in better shape than the outside. Bella and James had two bedrooms renovated upstairs and my crew made sure the kitchen and living space are clean and functioning.”

She flinched at the mention of the bedrooms and slid a glimpse at Eduardo, who was removing her luggage, appearing stoic as ever. “That’s...fine.”

She only wished that Juan Carlos would button his shirt so that she could breathe freely again.

Eduardo stopped at the steps with her two suitcases. “Just leave them. I’ll take it from here,” Juan Carlos said. “Thanks, Eduardo.”

The man nodded, but it looked more like a bow. “Your Highness.”

Juan Carlos rolled his eyes.

She chuckled. It would take him a while to get used to being royalty.

“Stop laughing,” he whispered out of earshot of his bodyguard.

“I’ll try,” she whispered back. “Not promising anything.”

He shook his head but grinned like a schoolboy.

She was up against massive charm and a killer body.

“Let me show you around.” Juan Carlos took her arm and guided her inside.

The living room was cozy with a large brick fireplace and old wood floors that looked as though they’d been scoured and polished. A new patterned rug was laid down between two sofas covered with floral tapestry pillows. The smell of fresh drying paint filled the room.