A Royal Proposition

She was so near and yet so far.

She was his wife!

She was his paid companion for a year, he reminded himself harshly as they walked slowly along the sand. Nothing more. He couldn’t let her any closer than this. Otherwise when it ended he’d go nuts.

Did it have to end?

Yes, he told himself fiercely. It must. Even if he was stupid enough to lose his heart, there was Belle to consider.

And it was just plain stupid to let himself lose his heart. Hadn’t life taught him anything?

‘Penny for them?’ Penny-Rose asked, and he lifted his head with surprise. They were in the shallows, barefooted and kicking their way through the foam. Alastair was wearing his bathing trunks and nothing else. Which was just as well. Any minute now he could end up swimming.

If things became too hot…

‘I beg your pardon?’ He had trouble forcing his thoughts from where they’d been straying.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’ she repeated. ‘You look away with the fairies.’

He managed a smile. ‘Was I? Sorry. I was thinking of Belle.’

Penny-Rose’s smile faded. Belle. Of course. She was between them all the time. ‘You must miss her.’

‘I… Yes.’

‘This’ll be hard on you both,’ Penny-Rose admitted. ‘Knowing how beautiful this is…’ She brightened a little. ‘Still, the fact that my sisters and brother are here must make it easier for her.’

‘I…’ Hell, concentrate! Make yourself talk sensibly, he told himself. ‘It does. Belle approves of the idea.’

‘I’m glad.’

But Belle had called Rose ‘the creature’.

Alastair looked across at the creature in question. The soft breeze was blowing her hair into a tumble of riotous curls. The sun was warm on her face and she was lifting her nose to smell the sea.

‘Isn’t it gorgeous?’ she breathed, and he was forced to smile his agreement.

‘Absolutely.’ But he wasn’t talking about what she was talking about.

Maybe he’d better head for the water!

But beside him Penny-Rose had paused. Far out in the bay, just around the headland from where they were, she could see three little catamarans. Her siblings were having a ball. She watched for a while, and then sighed and smiled.

‘I want to thank you,’ she said seriously. ‘Alastair, what you’re doing for us…’

‘I’m doing it for me.’

‘I don’t think you are,’ she said softly. Before he could stop her she’d caught his hand and was tracing the strong lines below the wrist. ‘I think you’re doing this for your tenants and for Belle and for your mother- and for me. But maybe not for you. I’m starting to know that you don’t really want to be royalty.’

‘Being royalty can’t hurt.’ The feel of her hand was unnerving. One part of him wanted to pull away.

The other part of him wanted to move in closer.

‘You dislike the publicity.’

‘I… Yes.’

‘It’ll get worse.’

‘For a while.’

‘Because of our marriage?’

‘I guess.’

‘And the divorce at the end-there’ll be a heck of a fuss.’

‘I can cope.’ He shrugged. A year was starting to seem a very long way away.

‘I wish I could make it easier for you.’

The only way she could make things easier was to leave right now. He was starting to feel as if he was being torn in two. To have her so near…

‘Come in for a swim,’ he suggested, and she kicked up some water with her toes.

‘I wish I could.’

He’d forgotten. Again.

She couldn’t swim. He’d discovered it on the first day. The others had somehow managed to learn but his wife hadn’t been so fortunate. In her tough childhood, there’d simply never been time.

And Alastair hadn’t found the courage to say what he most wanted to say. That he’d teach her.

Because how could he teach her without touching her? And how could he touch her without-?

He hauled his hand away and grimaced. ‘OK. You do your splashing bit and I’ll do my lap stuff.’

Which was fine, he thought savagely as he stroked strongly in deep water. This way he could put some of his unused physical energy to good use. So far this holiday he must have swum for twenty miles or more. Every time things got too much for him he swam while Rose enjoyed herself in the shallows.

Did she enjoy herself?

Of course she did, he told himself. She’d never been to the beach. It was a novelty. The shallows were enough!

He was being mean!

But if he wasn’t mean…that way led to disaster. Teaching her to swim… Letting her close…

Alastair paused but as he did so a movement caught his eye. Entranced, he trod water and watched.

Out past the breakers, where the waves were forming into massive, rolling swells, a pod of dolphins had come in to surf. They were darting into the sapphire crests, row upon row of them-there had to be thirty-using the force of the waves to surf gloriously toward shore.

Alastair was just far enough out to see. They were past the sand-bar which created the lagoon effect where Alastair swam and Rose paddled. Between sand-bar and the beach, the water sloped gently, meaning he had to be a hundred yards from the beach before he could swim.

And that meant Rose could hardly see the dolphins from where she was.

She’d love them. Alastair watched the sea creatures for a moment longer, and then he glanced back at Rose. She was lying full length in the shallows, letting the foam trickle through her toes. She was wearing a crimson bikini, and nothing more.

She looked blissfully happy, and very, very lovely.

But the dolphins were a sight to be seen maybe once in a lifetime, Alastair thought desperately. She should see them.

She couldn’t see them from where she was. Not properly.

And there was a channel fifteen or twenty feet wide of deep water between shore and the sand-bar. That was where he’d been swimming.

Maybe she’d trust him to tow her through the deep water to where the sand-bar created a ledge, he thought. If she let him do that, then they could both see.

To have him carry her through deep water when she couldn’t swim she’d have to trust him absolutely.

And suddenly there was no reason why not. And every reason why.

‘Rose,’ he shouted, and started over to where she lay. ‘Come and see. It’s magic.’

And it was magic. As was her trust. She lay limply in his hold, totally reliant on his strength as he carried her out to sea. And he knew how reliant she must be. The channel of deep water was maybe only fifteen feet wide, but for a non-swimmer to trust that much was no mean feat.

‘Kick your legs,’ he said, and felt her do just that.

Her courage was immutable. She was some lady!

But touching her, towing her strongly alongside him in the deep water with his arm holding her close…

This was an indescribable sensation!

Finally he felt the sand-bar rise underneath him, and he guided her feet so she could stand.

But then, somehow, he didn’t-couldn’t-quite let her go. After all, he had to guide her so she was looking toward the dolphins. And they were still near deep water, so if she fell he’d have to support her.

And she felt so good by his side. So right!