Prince of Midtown / Marriage, Manhattan Style: Prince of Midtown

She suspected he didn’t spare a thought for what she wanted. She was a nobody. An assistant. A pretty, emptyheaded bimbo to toy with.

The disturbing part was that she didn’t want to tell Sebastian. He was obviously pleased to have important American visitors come to his country and she didn’t want to spoil it for him.

It seemed an eternity before Sebastian finally appeared, his gondola laden with shiny bags from the boutiques.

Sebastian was all smiles as he helped Charmaine Kendrick back onto the boat. Tessa’s heart squeezed with pity for the woman married to such a—

Now, now. She was the assistant to a prince. Nice girls didn’t use words like that.

The senator—and she used the word loosely—must have been watching from below, because he came on the deck as soon as they arrived. He marched right past Tessa without looking at her.

“Did you buy some beautiful things, my dear?” He kissed his wife’s cheek. “You know I want you to have everything your heart desires.”

To make up for your cheating louse of a husband. Tessa could barely keep a straight face. Just the sight of the man made her flesh crawl.

“Tessa.” Sebastian’s voice in her ear made her jump. “Are you okay?” He murmured it low.

“Sure. I’m fine.” Her attempt at bright and breezy came out rather stiff.

Sebastian shot a glance at the senator, who was “oohing” over some shimmery red number his wife pulled from a striped bag. “Seriously, you don’t look yourself.” His dark eyes filled with concern as he looked at her again.

Her stomach tangled. Should she tell him?

For all she knew her revelation might start an international incident. And she didn’t want anything else to spoil this beautiful day. She was pretty sure the senator would turn tail and run as soon as she and the prince left the boat.

“I guess I don’t have my sea legs yet.” She glanced at the mirror-calm water of the harbor and swallowed.

“In that case, we must get you back on solid ground.”

Senator Kendrick clapped a jovial hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. Was his nose looking a tad swollen? “As I said, we’ve got a full itinerary. Our captain informed me that we must set sail before noon or we’ll never make Piraeus in time.”

He shot an icy glance at Tessa. She lifted her chin.

Yes. Definitely swollen. And a black eye seemed to be starting on the left side, too. Hah! Maybe he’d think twice before assaulting someone next time.

Sebastian kissed Charmaine on the cheek and made her promise to come back. Tessa was relieved she wouldn’t be here when they did. She managed a curt goodbye to the man who’d spoiled her perfect morning.

Back in the gondola, with Sebastian’s big, protective presence beside her, she shivered with relief.

“Enough boating for you.” He leaned over the side and trailed his fingers in the water. “Warm. Want to take a dip?”

“Right here?” Panic crept over her. “I don’t have a swimsuit with me.”

“You didn’t bring one at all?”

“No. I came here to study the files and help with the meeting, remember?”

“Oh, yes. That.” He seemed to have genuinely forgotten. His eyes brightened. “We must find you a suit immediately.”

He murmured instructions to the boatman. Spoken fast, the language was much harder to understand. She did catch the word Valentino.

“I don’t need a Valentino swimsuit,” she protested. “Is there an ordinary clothes store where I could find a suit?”

“What’s wrong with Valentino?” He raised a brow.

“It’s outrageously expensive, that’s what.”

Being a prince clearly made you lose touch with reality. Which probably didn’t much matter if you were a prince.

She, however, had to save for the down payment on the apartment she’d be renting in LA. Patrick hadn’t yet mentioned cohabiting and she’d decided it would be tacky and pushy to suggest it.

They could work up to that.

She wouldn’t tell Patrick about the senator, either.

He’d probably think she’d been dressed too provocatively or something.

“Beautiful things are always expensive. It’s the way of the world.” Sebastian eased his broad shoulders against the velvet seat.

“No, they’re not.” She sat up. “Usually things that cost nothing are the most beautiful.” She looked up to where the sun illuminated the rocky peaks that stood sentinel over the town. “Does the blue sky cost money? The clear water? The fresh air?”

She paused. Perhaps there were cleanup crews constantly at work scrubbing and whitewashing Caspia.

“The sun in your golden hair.”

Sebastian’s low voice caught her off guard.

“What?”

“Beautiful.” His eyes were narrowed, seductive.

Heat swelled in her chest, then morphed into a clench of anxiety. Was she inadvertently sending out some signal that she was interested or available?

She crossed her arms over her chest. “For all you know it costs a fortune to get my hair this color.”

“Does it?” He looked curious.

She laughed again. “No. It’s naturally a dark, mousy blond.”

“It’s perfect. And the Caspian sun admires it as much as I.”

For a second she thought he was going to weave his fingers into her hair again. Her body braced in a mixture of terror and anticipation.

The boat bumped gently against the quay.

The boatman lashed the long boat to a metal ring set in the giant stones.

Tessa gathered her long dress and climbed out of the yawing boat with as much dignity as possible. The ancient stone buildings stood shoulder to shoulder along a stone walkway, inlaid with mosaic. She noticed small, tasteful signs above some of the doorways. “Chanel, Ferragamo, Armani.”

“All the stores we’ve been working with.”

He linked his arm though hers. She had to admit that his strong arm felt wonderfully supportive after what she’d just been through with a man she once respected. Sebastian would never take advantage of a vulnerable woman.

Not unless she wanted him to.

Now that she’d seen the Kendricks’ white yacht leave through the harbor mouth, she started to relax, caressed by gentle sea breezes and the bright sun.

Inside Valentino, Sebastian addressed the fawning male clerk. “We’d like to see some swimsuits.”

“Bikini or one-piece?”

“Bikini,” Sebastian said firmly, before she’d managed to get her mouth open. The clerk hadn’t even glanced at her. She wasn’t sure he was even aware of her standing there, next to His Royal Highness.

“That’s the one.” Sebastian pointed to a greenish suit, four microscopic triangles held together by gold rings.

Tessa tilted her head. “Are you sure that’s not a pair of earrings?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Try it on. If it doesn’t fit the rest of you, we’ll hang it from your ears.”

Reluctant, she took the hanger and followed the clerk into a changing room. Thick carpet greeted her feet as she slipped off her sandals behind a heavy curtain. Was she supposed to go out and show Sebastian the bikini?

There was no mirror in the curtained cubicle, so she had to creep out into the main dressing room to confront her almost-naked body in a wall of mirrors.

She approached the mirror carefully, expecting an eyeful of skinny-and-pale.

“Very nice.”

Sebastian’s deep voice made her jump. She spun around to see him standing by the entrance to the dressing rooms, arms crossed and a smile of appreciation sneaking across his arrogant mouth.

“I could use a tan.”

“Then the sooner we get out in the sun, the better.” His smile became a broad grin. He held out his arm. “Let’s go.”

She laughed. “I have to get dressed again. And pay. This scrap of fabric is probably two hundred dollars.”

He smiled wryly. “I’ve already paid. Here’s the matching sarong.” He handed her a shimmering piece of greenand-gold fabric.

Their hands brushed as she took it from him. A swift touch that made her heart beat faster.

For all she knew it was actually five hundred dollars and the sarong twice as much.

She sucked in a breath.

Eek. This was all a bit much.

It wasn’t appropriate to let her boss dress her up like a Barbie doll. Especially when she was practically engaged to someone else.

Thoughts of Patrick seemed rather out of place here in Caspia. He didn’t like hot sun and he’d be bored on the water. When they’d gone sailing out of Westport with one of his clients, he’d kept flipping on his PDA to check stock quotes.

Very practical. Sensible. The kind of person who’d make a responsible husband and father. So she’d better make sure she kept Patrick—and her own future—foremost in her mind.

Five

White liveried servants brought Tessa and Sebastian a lunch of handmade delicacies on the private palace dock. Hidden from the world by carved stone walls, they sipped fresh lemonade with sprigs of fragrant mint while seawater lapped at the sun-bleached quay. Bright flowers bloomed in ornate urns, their leaves occasionally ruffled by the warm breeze.

Tessa wriggled, trying not to get too comfortable on the soft lounge chair. She wore the bikini. She could hardly refuse when he’d sunk so much money into it.

“I really should call the attendees for the meeting.”

“Not yet. You need heliotherapy.” Sebastian picked up the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in a quick motion.

She jerked her gaze away from the sight of his bronzed washboard abs.

“Helio-what?” She fixed her attention on a seagull, then quickly became dizzy as it turned in tight circles, scanning the water for its lunch.

Sebastian was stretching. She could tell without looking.

Her nerve endings could see him. All the tiny invisible blond hairs all over her. Her nipples must be looking, too, because they buzzed like pressed doorbells.

“Heliotherapy. Sunlight as a curative. Practiced in Caspia since the time of Hippocrates.”

She couldn’t manage to avert her eyes as he eased back into his chair, settling his broad shoulders into the soft fabric.

A narrow cyclone of black hair started between his well-developed pecs, twisted down the center of his rockhard stomach, then disappeared below the button of his black trunks.

“I thought…” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat. “I thought the sun gave you skin cancer.”

Sebastian snorted. “Caspians have the longest lifespan of any people on earth.” He lifted his arms behind his head, and his impressive biceps bulged.

Tessa blinked.

“Well, you have pretty dark skin.” All over. At least the parts she could see. She tried not to think about the others.

“So did you last summer. Have you been living under a rock this year?”

She couldn’t help laughing. “I have, lately. The rock of Caspia Designs and its gritty financials.”

Sebastian turned his head and assaulted her with one of his penetrating stares. “And that is exactly why I won’t have you scurrying off to bury yourself again.”

His eyes grazed her face, then wandered over her neck. “You need sun, good food, fresh air and laughter. Then you won’t want to run away to California in search of things that can be found right where you are now.”

He settled his head back with a smile of satisfaction and closed his eyes.

He’d noticed her tan last summer?

She’d managed a large group plot in a local community garden, which kept her outdoors digging, weeding and watering at least an hour a day.

She’d had a great time, too. Hadn’t spent one single evening sighing over her lack of husband prospects or her ticking biological clock.

This year she hadn’t the time or energy for the garden. So she’d also missed out on the companionship, sunshine, fresh air and fresh food that came along with the experience.

Instead she’d been telling herself things would get better once she left New York and started over.

Maybe Sebastian had a point.

A self-protective urge to argue with him tickled her vocal cords. But he looked so peaceful and contented lying there in the sun. She didn’t want to be snotty and point out that the older citizens of Caspia were pretty leathery looking.

Besides, she liked leather.

Still, sunblock would be a good idea. She fished the bottle from her bag and started to rub it on her exposed belly.

“Let me help.”

She glanced up to see Sebastian’s winning smile again. The one that made her so suspicious of his motives.

She fought the urge to laugh. “That’s okay, I’ve got it covered.”

“Not yet, you haven’t. I’ll do your back.” He took the bottle from her in a firm swipe. “Turn around.”

She turned, swinging her legs to the other side of the lounger. “Are you this commanding with people who aren’t your employees?”

“I prefer to think of myself as straightforward.”

His hands settled on her shoulders.

One way to be straightforward.

Breath rushed out of her lungs at the sensation of his broad fingertips, moist with lotion, rubbing her skin. He smoothed the sunblock over the nape of her neck, feathering it over her vertebrae with little thumb motions. She curled her toes, trying to fight the warm pool of arousal spreading in her abdomen.

His broad palms swirled lotion over her shoulder blades, kneading her muscle at the same time. It was hard to ignore the sensation of release spreading through her.

Then his fingers slid under the scanty string of her bikini. She gasped. For some reason the gesture seemed shockingly intimate.

“Hold still. I need more lotion.” His voice was unusually gruff. She felt quite naked as he pulled his hands from her body.

She heard him rubbing the sunblock between his hands to warm it, and her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch.

Ooh. Right there in the sensitive spots on either side of her waist. She tried not to wriggle. Or giggle.

His fingers slid around to rub it over her belly button. She should protest that she could do that herself, but she’d lost the power of speech.

Probably because in reaching forward to rub her front, Sebastian had moved so close that she could smell his stirring male scent.

“Relax,” he commanded. “Why are you tightening up?”

Um, because my boss is rubbing my bare flesh with his fingers?

She managed to clear her throat. “Guess I’m overworked. Must be my demanding boss.”

“I’ll have a word with him.”

She could hear the smile in his voice.

He pushed his fingers into the tight muscle on either side of her spine, causing her to arch her back and let go a tiny moan of pleasure.

“Ah, yes.”

“What?” she croaked.

“I can see the problem.”

“What problem?” Ohhhh. His thumbs settled into the dimples above her bikini bottom. That felt…wicked.

“You need to let go of all tension.”

“I think I’m pretty close.”

“No. Your muscles are still working to hold you upright.” His palms rubbed the sides of her waist. There wasn’t even a hint of lotion left on them. Ripples of sensation skittered over her.

“Let me guess, you want me to lie down.”

“No.”

He didn’t stop kneading the muscles behind her hips. She craned her neck around to read his expression.

His dark eyes flashed mischief. “I want you to float.”

Sebastian lifted her off her chair before she could draw breath to protest. He held her in his arms, and for a second she thought he was going to heave her right into the water lapping against the stone quay.

Instead he marched to the edge, and jumped.

She let out a piercing scream as they plummeted through the air for a split second before splashing into the water. Tessa managed to close her mouth before they plunged below the blue-green surface into the silent world below.

Eyes shut tight and Sebastian’s strong arms still tight around her, she surfaced, gasping for breath. “What the—”

“Now relax.”

“Relax? You’ve half drowned me!” She struggled, trying to get free of his arms.

She looked up at his face as he brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. His expression was serious, his touch deft and careful.

Then their eyes met and her stomach did a weird leaping thing.

Being held close against his warm, wet chest felt anything but safe.

He trod water, holding them both up. His powerful legs created a swell, while his embrace seemed effortless, and strangely soothing.

“Let your legs float. I won’t let go. I promise.”

His deep voice tickled her wet ear.

She fought the ripple of pleasure it summoned. “Why would I believe you after you already dunked me?”

“The Caspian royal family never breaks a promise. Our motto is Honor Omnia Vincit.”

“Honor conquers all, huh?”

“Engraved on my heart.”

He flexed a brawny bicep in her face. There, scrolled into the pattern winding over his arm, were the words he’d spoken.

She tried to brush off the sensations sneaking through her. “I’ve got news for you. Your heart isn’t really on your sleeve. It’s an expression.”

Sebastian’s mouth creased into a smile. “Maybe I should dunk you.” He dipped her a couple of inches.

Her stomach tightened, then softened when he brought her gently back to the surface. Water played over her stomach, echoing the ripple of arousal inside it. “It’s a beautiful tattoo. Does every man in the family get one?”

Sebastian glanced down at it. The pattern of stylized leaves traced the swell of his muscles to ring his upper arm just below the shoulder. “I’ve had it so long I forget it’s there. But no, it’s not traditional.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “My mom almost died when she saw it. I got it when I was sixteen after I went to an Eric Clapton concert in London with some friends.”

Tessa laughed. “That’s such a…regular guy thing to do.”

“Who says I’m not a regular guy, as well as a prince?” He raised a brow.

Somehow that stopped her in her tracks. Not that she was making any tracks, since Sebastian still held her fast in his arms and her feet bobbed near the surface of the water. Royal trappings aside, Sebastian was just a guy. With a mind and heart and feelings. Like everyone else.

Like her.

She ignored the funny sensation in her gut. “It’s lucky I was always strapped for cash as a teen or I might have the New York Knicks emblazoned on me somewhere. What made you decide to get the family motto?”

Sebastian looked at the scrolled words. “Caspia and its people are my team. I might have occasionally cheered for, say, Manchester United, but my heart is always in Caspia, and as you’ve observed, I wanted to wear it on my sleeve. Still do.”

His eyes shone with a mix of passion and humor that made her heart squeeze.

How had their relationship gone overnight from five years of formal and professional relations to half-naked conversations and underwater encounters?

In some ways it was her wildest fantasy come true. The man she’d admired and mooned over for so long was actually teasing and flirting with her. It was hard not to be flattered.

And excited.

Sebastian adjusted his grip, sliding his strong arms under her. “Let your head rest. Let go. The water will carry you.”

“I think you’re doing most of the work.”

“I wouldn’t call it work.” His deep voice had a playful tone.

But what was he playing at? They both knew this flirtation couldn’t go anywhere. Not anywhere sensible, at least.

She shot him a challenging glance. “Me, either. I have phone calls to make.”

“First you must heal and recover. Hydrotherapy has been recognized for thousands of years as a powerful curative.” He shifted one of the hands supporting her torso and splashed a few drops of water on her hot skin.

She swallowed hard, trying to crush the sensations swelling inside her. “You should open a spa. Ancient healing therapies seem to be a specialty of yours.”

“Excellent idea. Why didn’t I think of that? See how valuable you are to me?”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Stop what?” His expression was all innocence.

“Buttering me up so I’ll stay and work for you.”

Or do whatever else it is that you have in mind.

“Can you blame me?”

“Well, no. I am efficient and organized.” She raised a brow. “And I do my best to present a professional appearance. Though that seems to have fallen by the wayside today…” She glanced at her bare stomach. Drops of seawater sparkled on skin that had already started to tan. A result of Sebastian’s unthorough sunblock application.

What was he doing with his fingers? The pads of his fingertips played her waist like a piano, dancing over her until her insides hummed like vibrating strings.

Her nipples poked against the fabric of her scanty top. Heat and moisture gathered between her thighs, making her glad her bikini bottom was already damp.

Sebastian lowered his head so that his breath heated her ear. “As you point out, you are perfect. Which is exactly why you can’t leave. I won’t let you.”

She shivered, the force of his words sinking in.

I don’t want to leave.

She writhed slightly, trying to regain control of her body. The sensations swimming through her were startling and unfamiliar. Warm water swirled around her while the breeze tickled her bare skin above it. Sebastian’s powerful hands held her crushed against his muscled chest. His musky scent wound through the salty tang in the air, threatening to overwhelm her senses.

Suddenly she was panting, gasping for breath, struggling against the firm hold of Sebastian’s arms and the ache of her unwelcome arousal. “I have to stand!” She shoved against him with her elbow.

“It’s too deep.”

Flailing in the water, she started to panic. Frantic kicking had freed her from Sebastian, but now, head reeling and body throbbing, she couldn’t seem to remember how to swim.

“It’s okay, Tessa, I won’t let you sink.” Sebastian took her hand and tugged her gently to the stone dock. He didn’t try to grab or control her, just guided her through the water. She grabbed a metal ring and clung to it.

She blew out a sharp blast of air. “I’m sorry. I guess it was all too much. I’m not cut out to be relaxed. It freaks me out.”

Sebastian’s look of concern eased into a grin. “You’re a real New Yorker. You’d rather resist than relax.”

“I’m from Connecticut,” she protested.

“Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“See, you want to fight me already.”

“I do not!” She shifted her grip on the ring. How had this man managed to so thoroughly unhinge her?

“Oh, yeah?” He shoved his hand in the water and splashed her. Hard.

She splashed back and kicked with her feet, showering him completely with water until he ducked below the surface.

He rose up, laughing. “See what I mean?”

She shoved another wave of water at him. Damn. He was right. She felt better already.

She could even stare right at his handsome face with the water streaming over its hard lines and feel…almost normal.

“Do you surrender?” she challenged.

“Caspians never surrender.”

“Honor Omnia Vincit, and all that.” Her eyes wandered to the tattoo circling his thick bicep.

“Exactly. And since I am a man of honor, I’ll help you out of the water. I think we’ve both had enough hydrotherapy for one afternoon.” His black hair hung in his eyes, dripping with water.

He looked very unroyal.

And devastatingly handsome.

“It’s okay. I can swim. I grew up in a coastal town. In Connecticut.” She dodged his offered hand and darted around him, diving under and pulling hard for the stone steps twenty feet along the dock.

As she climbed out of the water she sensed his eyes on her. She adjusted her scanty bikini, not that it made much difference. His steady dark gaze threatened to evaporate the water right off her.