Page 44 of Savannah Royals
He looks away. “Doesn’t seem like you were too worried while you were in the closet with Abe.”
“You said you weren’t mad about that.” I swat his arm.
“You’re right, that wasn’t fair.” He tosses me a sheepish grin. “I worry too.” He reaches for my right hand. Slowly, he traces my queen of diamonds tattoo. “A king is nothing without his queen, you know. You’re not ducking out on me, right?”
“Never.” Because I love him the way I breathe, since the beginning, without thought. The way the Spanish moss hangs from the trees, organically, inseparable. The way starry-eyed Wendy loved Peter.
Completely.
And that’s when I finally kiss him, kiss him long and sweet. And I don’t stop for hours. Not until after the lights go down and the sun sets. Not until we stumble into his bed and shed our clothes. Not until his eyes drift shut and his breathing slackens as he wraps me from behind. Not even then, really. Because then I slide his right hand off my shoulder and drag it to my lips, gently kissing his king of diamonds tattoo.
And that’s how I finally fall asleep, with my lips resting softly on his finger…and the tantalizing imagined weight of heirloom rubies around my neck.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thecoloroftheday is white.
White clouds in the sky.
White pebbles, white sand beneath my feet.
White dress.
White shoes.
White. White. White.
As my gaze scans the crowd at the annual Academy picnic, I tell myself I’m not looking for anyone in particular. The gathering is on one of the sandy beaches of Jekyll Island—not at the renowned clubhouse itself, but close enough to sense wealth in the air by mere proximity. It smells of crisp cotton linens and fresh lemons, of biting sea salt tears of privilege.
There are plenty of potential marks here today, rich fellas with empty brains and deep pockets, but I skulk through the throng almost perfunctorily, searching for a hint of familiar blond hair.
At some point during my not-so-surreptitious hunt, I spot Lady Genevieve. She’s with her husband and another tall man, hard at work hoisting watermelons onto a banquet table. The man’s jawline is reminiscent of Matthew’s, but his head is topped with stylishly manicured dark hair, his posture ramrod straight. A flash of disillusionment hits when I realize it’s Ethan, Matthew’s older brother. West Point cadet, raised to captain during the Great War. Known for exquisitely tailored suits and abooming laugh, a laugh I can nearly hear when he tips his head back. I recognize him from former Academy events.
And perhaps somewhere else…a more recent connection tugs my memory, sliding back and forth at the edges of my mind, like the roiling tide of the Atlantic.
Despite myself, I watch the family for a few minutes. It seems Matthew had to work after all, because he’s nowhere in sight. The three DaMolins move in tandem, quiet and efficient, preparing the watermelon.
There’s a faintthumpbehind me, but my attention is focused on the tiny group. They’re so in tune with one another. It’s like me with the Royals…or perhaps not? This is arealfamily, united by blood. I’m trying to discern whether there’s something different about them, something to set them apart from my own.
I tilt my head, pondering, and give a soft yelp when a hand squeezes my shoulder from behind.
“Why are you spying on my family, Katarina?” a deep voice whispers in my ear.
His breath is warm. I fight a shiver.
“Matthew.” I laugh nervously, a little embarrassed but entirely glad to find he’s here.
“Are you looking for someone?” He moves his lips to my cheek, softly pressing them to my skin. A small shockzingsthrough my body at his unexpected familiarity. I give a guilty start, then cast a sweeping look around the picnic for voyeurs. I turn to see Matthew in a white linen shirt, his grin brighter than the sun.
I blink twice, rendered mute.
“Wow,speechless, Katarina? I don’t think I’ve met this woman yet. Hi, I’m Matthew DaMolin.”
He sticks out his hand for a formal shake. I take it with a chuckle.
“You’re in an awfully good moodtoday.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I have the whole weekend off, the sun is shining, I slept a full ten hours, bathed and shaved this morning—just for you.” He winks, and I laugh again. “And here you are, looking formeout of the hundreds of people here today.”
