Page 121 of Royal Caleva: Luis

Luis rooted around in another cooler and triumphantly pulled out a bottle of Dom Perignon. Eve started to protest, but he had already popped the cork. He poured it into the two champagne flutes on the table and sat. “No picnic is complete without champagne.” He tilted his glass toward her. “To our daughter!”

That was a safe toast, so she clinked her glass against his.

“Try the percebes—barnacles—and lapas—limpets.” He held out a beautifully arranged platter of shellfish. “They were plucked from the sea this morning.”

He didn’t wait for her but placed a couple of each on her plate before he chose several for himself. Picking up a limpet shell, he sucked the meat off it like it was an oyster. “And that is how you eat it.”

Eve examined the conical shell before lifting it to her lips. When she started to suck it into her mouth, Luis’s gaze locked on her with a fiery intensity. Maybe that was why oysters were considered an aphrodisiac.

She put the shell down and used the tiny fork set beside her plate to eat the next one.

“The fork is for the percebes,” Luis said, picking up what looked like a mossy rock with a hole in the top. He jabbed his fork inside the hole and pulled out a chunk of mostly white meat, which he held out to her across the table. “It tastes like the ocean.”

His eyes were scorching as she took the shellfish into her mouth where the taste of the salt sea burst on her tongue. “This must be what mermaids eat,” she said, dropping her eyes to stop the wave of heat searing through her just from his gaze. She took a gulp of champagne to cool off.

“How appropriate! The sirens of the sea,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “Have another.”

She glanced up to see him holding out another chunk of barnacle to her. She bit it off the fork as quickly as possible before picking up her own fork. “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

Instead of looking disappointed, he ate his shellfish while a satisfied smile curled his lips.

She was just as bad as he was, watching that sensual mouth of his slurping up limpets and remembering how those lips had felt against… Nope, not going there. Except she couldn’t banish the thought, and she felt herself grow wet.

“Um, I’m not that hungry,” she said. “You go ahead and eat while I go stick my feet in the water.”

“I will go with you.” He put his fork down and stood. “I want to see your face when you feel the temperature.”

Oh, shit. She couldn’t escape him.

“Let me get my sandals off,” she said, reaching down to tug down the back strap. By the time she had slid out of both shoes, Luis was beside her, his own feet bare and his jeans rolled partway up his calves.

She stood, and he rested his hand on the small of her back as they strolled across the sand. She felt like her skin would be branded with his handprint as the warmth sank into her.

He stopped when they reached the water’s edge. “I haven’t been here in too many years,” he said as he scanned the ancient volcano. “I had forgotten how beautiful it is.”

His voice held awe, pride, and regret. Then he turned to her with a glinting smile. “Now you must feel the water.” A light pressure from his hand moved her into the clear, sandy-bottomed shallows.

“Oh my gosh, it’s like bathwater.” She looked down at her warm, wet feet in astonishment.

He chuckled and stepped in himself. “It would be hotter if the ocean wasn’t constantly swirling cold water into the caldera. There’s a thermal vent somewhere far below here that spews forth enough heat to warm the whole harbor.”

She wanted to go swimming in the beckoning water, but Luis would go too. The sight of his well-muscled body glistening with rivulets of water would make it impossible not to touch him.

She drew in a shaky breath and wiggled her toes in the sand. “Are there fish in here, or is it too hot for them?”

He didn’t answer her, so she lifted her gaze to meet his. He was no longer smiling.

“Eve, querida, I don’t wish to talk about fish.” A few strands of her hair got caught in the breeze and whipped across her cheek. Before she could tame them, Luis tucked the strands behind her ear. Then he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. She forced herself not to lean into the delight of his skin against hers. “Perhaps we could sit,” he said, gesturing toward the lounge chairs.

“Look, you don’t have to apologize for how you reacted the other night,” she said before the memory of him crumpling onto his knees made her heart twist all over again. “I never expected anything more than some…” What? “Some sex and fun.” That sounded awful enough to put him off.

He ignored her speech, merely gesturing that she should go in front of him to the lounge chairs.

She moved the towels and perched on the foot of one. Luis did the same, sitting sideways so he was facing her. He started to reach for her hands but changed his mind, letting his wrists drape over his knees as he looked straight at her.

“Eve, when you said you weren’t cut out to be a queen, I did not hesitate because I thought you were right.” His eyes clouded with guilt. “And I hate that you have believed that all this time.”

Eve opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say to stop him from making this worse, but he held up his hand. “Please, let me explain.”

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