Romancing the Crown: Kate & Lucas: Under the King's Command / The Prince's Wedding

“Again,” Sam said.

“What?”

“You did it again.” He slipped his free hand into her hair, combing it from her temple with his fingers. “One of these days, Kate, I’m going to be the one to kiss you first.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He cupped the back of her head to hold her steady as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Duty, reason, memory, everything logical and reasonable was screaming alarms in her head, but she didn’t want to listen. She closed her eyes and met him halfway.

The only music was the soft beat of the waves against the hull and the whistle of the breeze in the rigging, but Kate could have sworn she heard a saxophone.

The magic hadn’t dimmed. It was as potent now as it had been before.

That was why Kate had struggled so hard against it.

And that was why she found it impossible to resist.

His lips slid across hers in a caress as soft as a sigh. He didn’t hurry, yet he didn’t give her a chance to retreat. It was an exploration and a reminder, coaxing her to respond.

She did. Heaven help her, she did. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He tasted of salt from the sea and a dark, heavy thirst that wouldn’t be quenched by a kiss. Kate felt his hand tighten in her hair as his tongue stroked hers, and she swayed against him, pressing her body full-length to his.

His skin was damp and his cutoffs still dripping wet. Kate could feel the water soak into her tank top and shorts, but she didn’t care. After a week of watching him, she was finally touching. And she couldn’t get enough.

How could she have forgotten how well they fit together? His angles to her curves, his strength to her softness was so… right, it was as if she belonged here.

The necklace slipped from between their hands and fell to the deck unnoticed. Kate slid her arms around Sam, cupping her palms to the curve of his shoulder blades and splaying her fingers as if she could absorb him.

How could she have forgotten how good he felt beneath her hands? His skin was sleek and hot, stretched tight over muscle that had been hardened by years of dangerous missions. He craved adventure, he thrived on freedom, but that didn’t seem to matter to her now. Not when he was in her arms at last.

He moved his mouth to her neck. She felt his breath puff warmly over her skin as he said her name. She tipped up her chin, savoring the sensation.

“Kate,” he repeated, his voice rough. “My Kate.”

Another alarm sounded somewhere in her brain, but she was beyond listening. His lips brushed her throat, and tingles raced through to her toes. She felt as if she were awakening after a long sleep, her heart pumping, her blood flowing the way it was meant to. It couldn’t be wrong.

She curled her fingers, pressing her nails to his skin, hanging on as her head whirled. He dipped the tip of his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. A sound rose between them, a soft moan of longing. She hadn’t realized it was her until she felt an answering rumble vibrate from Sam’s chest.

He lifted his head. His eyes met hers without wavering. “I’ve missed you,” he said simply. “So much.”

It still wasn’t too late to stop, she thought dimly. He wasn’t pushing her. And he would never force her. That’s just the kind of man he was. Straightforward and honest. Responsible. Stubborn.

Tender. Sweet.

She parted her lips, but the lie wouldn’t come. “I’ve missed you, too, Sam.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with the beginning of a smile. But then he dropped his gaze, and his smile froze. “You’re wet.”

“I’ll dry off. It’s warm and…” Her words trailed off as she followed his gaze. Water had seeped into her cotton tank top. The once modest garment clung to her breasts, clearly outlining her erect nipples.

She watched him bring his hand between their bodies, and her knees went weak. He spread his fingers, holding his palm a whisper away from one straining peak.

No, don’t, she thought. If you touch me now we won’t be able to go back.

A tremor shook his fingers. His chest vibrated with another rumbling moan.

She looked up and found his gaze on her face. His smile was gone. His eyes glowed with an intensity that gave her no chance to hide. Even in the sunshine that poured on the deck she felt the heat from his hand. She couldn’t breathe as every nerve strained toward him, yearning for the moment when he would close the gap.

Yes, oh, yes, she cried silently. Please, Sam, if you don’t touch me now…

He closed his hand over her breast.

Kate was unable to stop her soft gasp of pleasure. It had been so long. She had forgotten how good this felt.

No, she hadn’t forgotten, she had chosen not to remember.

He rubbed his palm across her nipple. The soft friction of the wet shirt over her sensitive flesh made it swell more. She locked her hands behind his neck, arching her back and shamelessly lifting herself more fully into his caress.

He cupped her breast boldly, lifting, squeezing, driving her mad. With a groan, he curled himself over her body and fitted his mouth to hers.

There was nothing coaxing about this kiss. He took her lips with swift certainty. His tongue plunged inside, demanding a response. She gave it, matching him stroke for stroke. Needs that she’d believed had died were blossoming. She wasn’t merely awakening, she was coming alive.

It was wonderful. Glorious. She couldn’t think why she had fought it so long. Then she stopped thinking altogether and raked her fingers over his naked back.

Sam shifted, bracing his legs apart and wrapping his arms around her waist as he drew her more firmly against him. The position brought their hips together. Beneath the cool, wet denim he was hot and hard.

Kate hooked her foot behind his leg to improve the fit.

She didn’t know how they ended up on the deck. One moment they were standing, the next they were on their sides, their legs entwined, their feet halfway down the companionway, their hands everywhere they could reach. She pushed Sam to his back and climbed on top of him, pressing kisses to his chest. She paused only long enough to help him yank her tank top over her head and get rid of her bra before she fell on him greedily.

He tasted the same, she discovered, running her tongue down the center of his six-pack abs. The years had honed his body to perfection. He had a few new scars, a small ridge of white skin to the left of his navel and a long curving one beneath his right ribs. She kissed them both, then did the same for the recent bullet wound in his side.

With a sound she could only describe as a growl he grasped her shoulders and reversed their positions, straddling her hips as he came down on top of her. He went straight for the zipper of her shorts, cursing colorfully when the zipper stuck halfway down.

Breathless, she pushed his hands aside and unfastened it herself.

He cursed again.

Kate glanced up.

Sam wasn’t looking at her. He was looking behind him toward the cabin.

“Lieutenant Coburn, Lieutenant Mulvaney, do you read me?”

The voice was faint, barely audible over the sound of the breeze and the gentle lap of the waves. It came from the radio.

Sam sat back on his heels, and warm, damp denim brushed her thighs. He rubbed his face hard.