His Royal Pleasure. Leanne Banks

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      His Royal Pleasure

      Leanne Banks

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Pirate’s Island, North Carolina is an unlikely vacation destination for Prince Alexander of Moreno. But when a detour brings him to the rustic campground, he jumps at the chance to be just Alex, no media glare, no royal responsibilities, for four glorious weeks. That the manager is a beautiful, fun-loving redhead unlike any woman he’s ever met makes the prospect even sweeter…

      Katherine Kendall doesn’t trust men easily, including the wickedly handsome stranger who practically washes up on her island. But most of all she doesn’t trust her body’s reaction to this uncommon man--and when he offers to tutor her in the nuances of love-making, to awaken the sensual woman within, she cannot resist…

      Days with Katherine bring out a playful side Alex thought long-buried, and nights are filled with passion. As summer wanes, Alex begins to crave something he never has before. But will his secret tear them apart?

      Previously published.

      Thanks to Nita Taublib for “fixing the music box,” and to Courtney Henke for the tinnitus.

      This one is for all the grown-up little girls who ever dreamed of princes and happy endings.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Epilogue

      Chapter One

      “He smells.”

      Katherine Kendall wrinkled her nose and turned her head, wishing she could magically cause the man sprawled on her couch to disappear.

      “Not that bad,” Chad replied as he closed his eyes and slunk farther into the La-Z-Boy lounger.

      “He smells like he took a bath in a tub of whiskey,” she corrected, none too happy with being awakened at two in the morning to deal with another of Chad’s misadventures.

      “Well, you would, too, if someone broke a bottle of whiskey over your head.” Chad warily propped open one eye, then shut it again.

      Katherine tightened the belt of her kimono-style robe and planted her hands on her hips. “This is crazy. Do you even know this guy’s name? He could be a mass murderer for all we know.”

      Grudgingly Chad opened both eyes. “All I know is he got the bottle that was aimed at my head before all hell broke loose at Chuck’s Bar. Some guy punched him, and I figured the least I could do was drag him out of there and give him a place to rest for the night. He would have ended up in jail if I hadn’t taken him with me.”

      There was a strange logic to Chad’s explanation. That was frightening. When her nineteen-year-old half brother started to make sense she was in trouble. “I’ve got to be up at six. Make sure Prince Charming is out of here by then. I’m going to bed.”

      She turned toward her bedroom.

      “But you can’t.”

      “Can’t?” Katherine turned back around and arched an eyebrow.

      Chad stood and gestured awkwardly toward the man on the sofa. “Somebody’s gotta check him out and make sure he’s okay.”

      “Call a doctor.”

      “Katie!”

      “What?”

      “Can’t you at least look him over? I mean, you’re the one who’s taken first aid.”

      “Why didn’t you take him to the clinic?”

      “I didn’t think he was hurt that bad. I just knew we had to get out of Chuck’s.”

      “Is he drunk or does he have a concussion?”

      Chad gave a grimace of uncertainty and shrugged.

      Katherine sighed in resignation and moved toward the sofa. “Get me a damp washcloth and the first-aid kit. It’s in the bathroom.”

      Then, as Chad prudently followed her instructions, Katherine reluctantly turned her attention to the unconscious man. He was tall, longer than the six-foot plaid sofa. His face was damp from the storm raging outside, his dark hair drenched. She gently touched his head, checking for bumps. She found one the size of a goose egg and winced. The blow must have been painful.

      “So, what do you think?” Chad asked as he handed her the washcloth.

      With great care Katherine sponged the man’s face, neck and head. Her instincts told her the man would be all right, and she told Chad so. Then looking at the stranger’s face for the first time, she felt a vague sense of the familiar. “He looks like—” She stopped, because she couldn’t put her finger on it.

      “He looks like who?” Chad asked.

      She squinted her eyes together and tried to concentrate. There was something about him, something that made her pulse run faster. She should know him. She searched her memory but came up with nothing.

      Katherine shrugged, dismissing the odd feeling. “He looks like a mess.” She studied the way his facial structure was sculpted with clean lines, high cheekbones, dark eyebrows, an aquiline nose and a firm but compelling mouth. Uncompromising. Men would feel threatened by the arrogance in that face. Women would stare at him and make silent, secret wishes.

      Other women, she thought. She would never indulge in such futile wishes. His lovers would be tall, cool, sophisticated blondes. Not, she concluded wryly, short, emotional redheads with perms from hell.

      She unbuttoned his fine cotton shirt and frowned. “This doesn’t fit Chuck’s dress code. Have you ever met this guy before?”

      “Nah, the first time I saw him was when I ducked Randy’s bottle.” Chad cleared his throat. “I was busy playing cards before that.”

      Katherine glanced knowingly at her brother. “I’ll just bet you were. Did this fight have anything to do with your tendency to cheat?”

      Chad shifted his feet. “Cheating’s a harsh term.”

      Katherine closed her eyes, silently praying for restraint. Then she looked at the stranger interrupting her sleep and felt a twinge of concern.

      She tried to keep her touch clinical as she pulled the wet garment from his shoulders, but Katherine was a tactile person. She liked the slide of silk against her body, the texture of well-worn cotton and satin that caressed like warm water. She enjoyed feeling the vibration of a cat’s purr, couldn’t keep her hands off the peach fuzz of a baby’s head, and she had a weakness for touching beautiful things.

      His chest was a work of beauty—muscular, with brown male nipples peaked in protest to his cool body temperature, and a spray of dark hair that had her fingers tingling with the instinct to touch. He had biceps that inspired the thought that he was strong enough to hold a woman and keep her safe from the world.

      Katherine wondered what it would be like to feel those arms around her. Instantly embarrassment surged through her. She took a deep breath.

      “Can you find a robe for him? His clothes are a mess.”

      “Mine won’t fit. He’s a good four inches taller than I am,” Chad pointed out.

      “Look in Uncle Jasper’s closet.”

      Checking