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Leo Gregoryan’s determined to be the perfect king. Loyalty to his country means sacrificing his own happiness, but he’ll divert the energy he once poured into his dream of becoming a doctor toward royal duties. All he needs right now is a stress-free vacation–no future queen need apply.
Sara Astley escapes to the luxurious Paradise Hotel after she’s dumped by her partner, who then stole the promotion she’d expected. She hides her broken dreams behind a tough exterior. Her stubborn streak makes her a challenge Leo can’t resist.
His special brand of hands-on persuasion seduces Sara into enjoying the holiday of a lifetime. Their fling can't hurt either of them–or so they think. Leo's focussed on being the ideal hero. Sara knows what she wants, and that’s independence. Then a revelation tears them apart, meaning things can never be the same between them...
Sara had a sudden crisis of conscience. She hadn’t texted her PA since the night before. Digging in her bag for her mobile, she switched it on. “Why do I get the funniest feeling I’m being watched?” she asked without looking up from the keypad.
“Because you are. And there are two good reasons for that.”
She paused before sending the message. “You’re going to moan at me for checking mail when I should be taking a break.”
He grinned at her. “That was one of the reasons.”
She guessed the other before he put it into words. “Blushing suits you, Sara.”
“It’ll look a whole lot better when my skin’s lost this pasty white colour.”
Leo clicked his tongue. “A woman like you should be sophisticated enough to accept compliments with better grace.”
“Sorry, but I don’t take orders from a guy who looks like a pirate.” Switching off her phone, she lolled back against the rail. It felt good to forget work for once, and let the sun pour over her body. “Stop laughing, Leo.”
“If I’m a pirate, then the sea should be my only mistress. Is that what you want?” His voice came from much closer than it should. She jumped. He was leaning against the rail now too, so close she could have reached out and touched him.
“Who’s sailing the boat?” she asked, alarmed.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “The Neroli is perfectly trained, and does as I tell the on-board computer. There’s someone on lookout as well. And for the record, my Neroli is a yacht, not a boat.”
He was too close for comfort, but with a tingle of fear Sara realized he wasn’t close enough for her. She made a derisory noise to cover her confusion. “You’d hand over control to a computer? I work with those things all day, and there’s no way I’d trust my life to one of them.”
“But you trust me,” he said.
“No, I don’t. Not one inch.”
“Why not, as a matter of interest?”
She gave him a frank look. “Here’s a question. How can you tell when a man is lying to a woman?”
“His mouth is moving.”
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