The pool was an Olympic-size addition built in what had been an unused greenhouse on the edge of the palace gardens in the mid–twentieth century. When his children were younger, King Carlos had the aging facility refurbished, transforming what had been a bland indoor pool into a paradise filled with flowers and soothing flowing water. The bamboo and hibiscus served as more than decoration—they created a foliage privacy wall so that the royal family could relax in peace. For as long as Rosa had known Armando, the room had been one of his favorite places. Since moving into the palace, Max, had taken to visiting the pool as well.
A block of hot humid air hit Rosa when she opened the door to the building. It’d been a while since she’d visited Armando in his sanctuary, and so she had forgotten how much of a contrast there was between here and the garden path that connected the two buildings, especially during the winter. She could feel her shirt starting to stick against her skin in the dampness, destroying every bit of flowing camouflage. Wasn’t worth pulling the garment free, either, since it would only cling right back.
A shout called her attention toward the pool where Armando and Max were splashing their way from one end to the other.
“Looks like they are racing,” Rosa remarked.
“Of course they are. They’re men,” Princess Arianna replied. She did peel her shirt away from her skin. “This is the first time I’ve ever watched Max swim. I didn’t know he was such a good swimmer.”
He was definitely the faster of the two—his pale body was a good length ahead—but Armando had better style. His bronze shoulders rose up and down in the water, like a well-tuned piston. Rosa envied how he could be graceful both on land and in the water.
Unsurprisingly, Max reached the wall first. When he realized Arianna and Rosa were standing there, he pulled himself out of the water.
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” he said, leaning forward to give Arianna a kiss. From the way he twisted his body, he was doing everything he could not to let his wet body come in contact with hers.
Rosa couldn’t help but look him up and down. The man was definitely as well built as his movie-star looks implied. Princess Arianna was a lucky woman.
Armando’s voice sounded behind her. “Next time, we do more. We’ll see if you’re so fast when you have to make a turn, eh? Can someone hand me a towel?”
Someone being her, of course. Rosa should have known he wouldn’t stay in the water. There was a large white one draped over the back of a nearby chair. Steeling herself for what she was about to see, Rosa grabbed it and turned around.
Oh, my.
Forget fragrance ad come to life. Try sea god.
Anyone who met the man could tell Armando was well built simply from the way his clothes draped his body. What the clothes didn’t show was how virile he was. He made Max Brown look like a young boy. Awareness spread from her core as she took in the muscular, wet body, its contours glistening under the lights. Droplets clung to his chest hair, like tiny crystal ornaments. Wordlessly, she watched as he wiped them away with the towel, her breath catching a little on each stroke across his skin.
If she couldn’t stop thinking about a peck on the lips...
“Rosa?”
She jerked her attention back to his face to find him looking at her with unusual intensity. “Is everything all right?” he asked. “You looked flushed.”
Because you’re beautiful. “It’s the heat,” she replied. “It’s like a sauna in here.”
“Well, the room was designed for people in bathing suits.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, and Rosa let out a breath. Never did she think wearing a towel would be modest. “I said I was surprised to see you. You’ve been avoiding me.”
He’d noticed? Of course he had. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about staying away. “No, I haven’t,” she lied anyway. “There is a lot going on, is all. I have been very busy coordinating the various year-end events.”
“Right. Coordinating. I understand,” he said in a voice that said he didn’t believe her in the slightest. “Why are you here now, then? Did something happen?”
His eyes had not just dropped to her lips and back. He was a man about to marry an amazing beauty. The last thing he would waste time on was their mistletoe kiss, unless he was remembering her foolish bolt through the kitchen door.
“I—” Rosa began. This would have been so much easier if Arianna had let her send a text. Thanks to his half-dressed state, the moment felt far more intimate than it was. What was more, the princess wasn’t even talking to Armando. She and Max had taken themselves to one of the many lounge chairs, leaving her and Armando alone.
“King Omar’s office called. Mona is still feeling ill and won’t be able to attend the concert tonight.”
“Oh.”
That was an...odd reaction. Detached and almost relieved sounding. Surely that couldn’t be the case. “I thought I should let you know as soon as possible in case this affects your plans for the evening.”
“You could have texted.”
“Arianna wanted me to tell you in person.”
“Oh.” That answer did come with a reaction. A conspiratorial smile that said he understood exactly what had happened. They usually shared dozens of such smiles during the course of a normal week. Seeing this one made her feel all melty inside. She’d missed his company, dammit.
“Anyway...” She cleared her throat. “If you would like to cancel...”
“Cancel? Why on earth would I cancel?”
“I only thought that with Mona not attending...” Seeing his frown, she left her answer hanging. “Never mind.”
“Never mind is right. I can’t believe you even suggested I wouldn’t attend.” He headed toward a bench by one of the bamboo trees where a robe and additional towels lay. As he brushed past her, his bare shoulder made contact with hers, and Rosa’s insides turned to jitters at the feeling of dampness through her blouse. It was as close to skin against skin as she’d felt in a long time.
“You’re right,” she replied, rubbing the goose bumps from her arms. “I don’t know what I was thinking. This morning’s newspaper article speculating on your marriage must have skewed my reasoning.”
He was flipping a towel around his neck when she asked. Gripping both ends, he cocked his head. “What does that mean?”
“It means, I know it was to be an important public appearance for the two of you.” The first step in establishing the seriousness of their relationship.”
An odd look crossed his features. “Right. I forgot about the gossip column. It would have been nice to have Mona make an appearance, but seeing as how the marriage is all but a fait accompli, it’s not completely necessary.
“Besides,” he added as he reached for his robe, “it’s not as if the people aren’t used to seeing me attend events alone.
“You’re still attending, right?” he asked, shrugging into the robe.
“Of course. It’s my sister’s memorial concert. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Not even Mona’s presence would have stopped her. “I can’t believe you asked.”
“What are you talking about? You asked me the same question two minutes ago. And, considering I haven’t seen you all week, I didn’t want to assume.”
There was a bite to his comment that took her aback. She thought they had addressed this. “I told you, I have had a lot to take care of this week.”
“Coordinating. So you said.” He tugged on his terry-cloth belt before looking her in the eye. Rosa tried not to squirm, but the intensity of his stare was too unnerving. He was trying to see inside her again. “Look, I know why you have been avoiding me,” he said.
“You do?” Heaven help her, could they go back to talking about Mona? Please? Not only was her embarrassing reaction to their mistletoe kiss the last thing she wanted to talk about, this was the last place where she wanted to not talk about it—in a steamy pool house with him wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
“I owe you an apology.”
“You do?” she repeated. For what?
“It was...rude...of me to confront you the way I did. Regarding Fredo. I put you on the spot, and I shouldn’t have.”
“I see.” She had forgotten their argument about Fredo, her mind focused on their kiss. Apparently, circumstances were the other way around for Armando. He wasn’t thinking about the kiss at all. Which was a good thing, right? Meant she didn’t have to avoid him anymore.
There was no reason for her insides to feel deflated. “Th-thank you,” she replied. “I appreciate that.”
On the other side of the pool, Arianna and Max lay side by side in one of the lounge chairs. Max had slipped on his bathrobe, and the two of them looked to be in deep conversation. Whatever problem Arianna had with the budget seemed to have taken a backseat to her fiancé. They looked so happy and engrossed with each other. Maybe it was talking about Fredo, but looking at them left Rosa aching with envy. What she wouldn’t give for a man who listened to what she had to say with interest instead of patronizing her or putting her down. Someone who respected her and didn’t continually remind her of her many, many flaws. You’re fat. You sound like an idiot.