Page 56 of Royal Caleva: Luis

It would take a lot more than expensive cosmetics to fix that, but there was no putting that cork back in the bottle. She dropped the subject as a wave sent a rush of salt water lapping around her ankles. “Whoa, it’s colder than the water at the other beach,” she said.

“The one drawback of having a house on this coast is that no warm currents wash around this shore, as they do where you were earlier,” Luis said. “Now, if we went out to the Pirates’ Surprise”—he pointed to the island with the bottle—“we would be wading in warm water because of the geothermal activity beneath the caldera’s floor.”

“Annamaria said you liked to tell the story of how it got its name.” Eve needed something to distract her from the sight of the sea breeze pressing his shirt flat over his well-defined abdominal muscles.

“I will tell you after we drink more champagne. That will improve the story.” He peeled away the foil and unwound the wire cage before gently twisting the cork from the neck with a pop. The champagne frothed up to the bottle’s lip, but not a drop spilled.

“You’re an expert at that,” Eve said.

“It is a satisfying skill. Simple and with pleasurable results.” He held up the bottle so the sunlight could shine through it. “I think the foam has settled.” He handed it to her.

In fact, she had never drunk champagne out of the bottle. She tried to be ladylike and just touch the opening to her lips, tilting the bottle so it would run into her mouth. She miscalculated, and it overflowed to run down her neck as she took a mouthful.

She swallowed the sparkling wine and started to brush off the runaway champagne with her fingers. “Darn! I wasted good champagne.”

“Allow me,” Luis said, his gaze locked on her throat. He pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped the champagne from her neck, stroking the fine cotton fabric slowly and gently against her skin, sending a sensual vibration over her breasts that tightened her nipples. He dabbed at one of the wet spots on her blouse, just at her clavicle, without success. “I’m afraid your blouse will have to dry on its own.”

He stepped back, and a hot smile curled the corners of his mouth. Probably because he could see her hard nipples through the thin silk. Eve took another swig of champagne, closing her mouth over the entire rim this time. The cool, effervescent liquid did nothing to quench the flare of desire she felt, but it tasted fantastic.

She passed the bottle back to Luis. He kept his eyes on her face as he put the bottle to his lips. Tilting it upward, he took two swallows, the muscles in his throat working. “And now the story,” he said.

The roar of an engine startled Eve, pulling her attention to the ocean. In the distance, a powerboat painted with the royal seal of Caleva cut through the waves toward another small craft, broadcasting an announcement in Spanish.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” she asked.

Luis waved a dismissive hand. “Some tourists got too close, so the guards are moving them away. For security reasons, no boats are allowed within a certain perimeter around this point. The professional captains know about it, but the amateurs have to be warned.”

“Has anyone ever landed on this beach?”

“Not to my knowledge, but Mikel wouldn’t necessarily inform me if they had.” Luis shrugged. “I have to trust my people to do their jobs, or I would never sleep soundly.”

There it was, the reality of being a king. Grace would be only a princess, and not even next in line for the throne, but Gabriel was only a royal duke, and that hadn’t kept him from being kidnapped and mutilated. Fear clogged Eve’s throat. She reached for the bottle, taking a gulp to wash down her worries. For now.

“Come,” Luis said, as if sensing her anxiety. “We’ll go over to those rocks where no interlopers can see us.”

He gestured to a wall of tall, jagged black boulders jutting up from the sand. As she took a step toward them, he once again brought his hand to rest on the small of her back. This time, she felt his touch like a brand, the heat of it burning into her skin and going deeper.

As the engine noise receded, Luis began his story. “Back in the days of Ricardo el Rojo, the first King of Caleva, an angry Spanish nobleman, a duque, came in search of the pirate who had attacked his ship carrying gold from the New World.”

She had to force herself to ignore the sear of his hand and focus on his voice. But every step made his palm shift against the silk of her shirt, yanking her attention to the mad attraction racing through her body.

“The duque brought three heavily armed galleons to take back his gold. But Caleva protects its own. One of the ships foundered on the rocks off the harbor of San Ignacio. As the other two sailed toward the harbor, they spied El Rojo’s sloop slipping away along the coastline. They gave chase, but the pirate sloop was quick, and it sailed into a fogbank when it got near this point.”

They reached an alcove created by the rocks, and Luis guided her into it before lowering his hand. She wanted to grab it and return it to her back. Instead, she asked, “Is there usually fog here? Is that why it’s called the House in the Clouds?”

“An excellent deduction,” Luis said, taking another swig of champagne. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “It depends on the wind and the amount of geothermal activity. The fog comes suddenly and leaves just as suddenly. Of course, Ricardo knew the coast like the back of his hand, so he did not fear sailing into the fog. The Spanish blundered after him.”

He passed her the bottle with a nod to drink more. She was developing a noticeable buzz, but she didn’t hesitate to enjoy another swallow.

“Ricardo could have easily gotten away. His sloop was faster than the galleons. But he wished to send a message. He kept just far enough in front of the galleons so they could catch glimpses of his ship in the shifting fog and follow him blindly.”

Luis looked out at the volcanic island. “He sailed his sloop with its shallow draft through the entrance to the caldera. The duque thought his enemy was trapped and didn’t stop to consider that his galleons had much deeper keels than Ricardo’s. The first ship grounded on the rocks that Ricardo’s ship had cleared by mere inches. The second ship collided with the first. Both had their hulls ripped open by the volcano’s underwater edge. La sorpresa de los piratas.”

“Ouch. What happened to all the sailors on the Spanish ships?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Most of them swam to shore on the island. My ancestor was always looking for new recruits, so he offered them jobs if they would swear allegiance to him. He even extended the offer to the duque, who turned out to be a practical man. He accepted the invitation and became one of Ricardo’s councillors when the pirate declared himself king.”

“I like that story. No one died,” Eve said. “Well, I guess the sailors on the first ship might have.” She felt guilty for forgetting about them.

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