Robyn Donald - Innocent Surrender

“Hey, princess, cast off.” Demetrios was at the wheel, but he jerked his head toward the line still wrapped around the cleat at the stern.

Anny clambered off, unwound the line, and jumped back aboard.

He throttled the engine ahead. The boat began to move slowly out of the slip. Anny felt the cool morning breeze in her face, smelled the sea, felt a heady excitement that was so much better than the dread with which she’d awakened every morning for too long.

She knew how Franck had felt when he’d gone sailing—alive.

But she knew, too, that it was a risk.

Spending two weeks alone on a sailboat with Demetrios Savas could be the closest thing to heaven, or—if she fell in love with him—to hell that Anny could imagine.

MALENA SAVAS, Demetrios’s mother, was fond of crisp character assessments of her children. Theo, the eldest, was “the loner,” George, the physicist, was “the smart one.” Yiannis was “our little naturalist” because he was forever bringing home snakes and owls with broken wings. Tallie was, of course, “baby girl.”

And Demetrios, her gregarious, charming middle child?

“Impulsive,” his mother would say fondly. “Kindhearted, honorable. But, dear me, yes, Demetrios tends to leap before he looks.”

Apparently that hadn’t changed, the middle child in question thought irritably now as he edged the boat out of the slip and headed her toward the open sea. You’d have thought that by the age of thirty-two he’d have got over it. His marriage to Lissa should have cured him of impetuosity once and for all.

But no. He’d actually gone after Anny— Princess Adriana—and insisted she spend the next two weeks on a damn sailboat alone with him!

What the hell had he been thinking?

Exactly what he’d told her—that sweet and kind and innocent, she was far too trusting to be let out on her own. And that it was his fault.

Not the sweet and kind and trusting bit—that was Anny. But the “out on her own bit” he felt responsible for. Hell, she’d thanked him for making it possible!

So he’d opened his mouth—and now here she was, standing in the cockpit waiting for him to tell her what to do. She was smiling, looking absolutely glorious in the early morning light, the light breeze tangling her hair. He remembered its softness when his own fingers had tangled in it.

They’d happily tangle in it again. And more. But fool that he was, while he’d insisted she be on his boat for two weeks, he’d left the sleeping arrangements up to her!

Refusing to think about it, Demetrios concentrated on getting the boat out into open water. He tried not to look at her at all. But if he so much as turned his head, there she was.

“Maybe you should take your stuff below,” he said, “in case anyone does recognize you while we’re still in the harbor.” Barely a creature was stirring on the docks or on any of the boats. But all it took was one nosy person…“I’ll call you when I need your help with the sail.”

She smiled. “Thanks.” And picking up her suitcase, she started to carry it down the companionway steps. They were too steep. He started to offer to help, but Anny simply dropped it down the steps with a thud. Then she and her backpack disappeared after it.

Well, she was resourceful. He would give her that. And he breathed easier when she was below. It was almost possible—for a few seconds at a time—to pretend that he was still alone on the voyage.

But then as he moved beyond the harbor, he spotted the royal yacht of Val de Comesque on its mooring. And as he motored slowly past it, Demetrios could see the crew were already up and stirring.

Was Gerard up, too? Was he prowling the decks worrying about Anny?

Or did he simply think she’d gone home, gone to bed and would come to her senses in short order?

According to Anny, he’d said for her to think about it. Obviously he was confident she’d change her mind. She had sounded confident she would not.

But was that true or mere momentary bravado?

Demetrios wasn’t surprised she’d balked. But he didn’t share her confidence when it came to being sure she wouldn’t change her mind.

It was one thing to say you weren’t going to marry a powerful wealthy, admittedly kind man like Prince Gerard and another thing to hold fast to the notion.

Maybe she really did just need time to think, to be sure.

Sure, yes? Or sure, no?

Not his problem, Demetrios told himself firmly. He believed she was right to take the time and consider her options. God knew he should have taken a couple of weeks to think about what he was doing when he’d married Lissa!

He might have come to his senses. Something else he wasn’t going to think about. Too late now.

He drew a deep breath of fresh sea air and shut Lissa out of his mind. She was the past. He had a future ahead of him.

He had a new screenplay to work on. And two weeks of sea time to ponder it.

And, heaven help him, Anny.

“Anny!” He shouted her name now that they were well past the royal yacht.

Instantly she appeared in the companionway, looking at him expectantly.

“Still want to help?”

“Of course.” She scrambled up into the cockpit.

He nodded at the wheel. “Steer this course while I hoist the sail.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Steer?” She looked surprised, then delighted, stepping up to put her hands on the wheel. Her face was wreathed with a smile.

“You do know what you’re doing?” he said a little warily.

“I think so,” she said. “But usually no one wants me to do it. ‘Can’t let the princess get her hands dirty.’ That sort of thing.”

“For the next couple of weeks, you’ll have dirty hands,” he told her.

“Fine with me. I’m happy to help. Delighted,” she said with emphasis. “I was just…surprised.” She shot him a grin. “But thrilled.”

Her grin was heart-stopping. Eager. Apparently genuine. It spoke of the sort of enthusiasm that he’d once dreamed Lissa would show toward their sailing trip to Mexico.

“Show me,” she demanded.

So he showed her the course he was sailing and how to read it on the GPS. She asked questions, didn’t yawn in his face and file her fingernails, and nodded when he was finished. “I can do that,” she said confidently.

He hoped so. “Just keep an eye on the GPS,” he told her, “and do what you need to do with the wheel. I can straighten it out if you have a problem.”

“I won’t,” she swore.

He went forward to hoist the sail, pausing to shoot her a few quick apprehensive glances, hoping she really did know what she was doing.

She seemed to have no qualms about the task, keeping her eye on the GPS and her hand on the wheel. She had pulled on a visor of Theo’s that hid most of her face from him, but as he watched, she tipped her head back and lifted her face so that the sun touched it. His breath caught at the sight.

Demetrios was accustomed to beautiful women. He’d worked with them, he’d directed them. He’d been married to one.

Flawless skin, good bones, perfect teeth all mattered. But facial features were only a part of real beauty. The superficial part. And Anny had them.

But more than that, she had a look of pure honest joy that lit her face from within. It was an uncommon beauty. She was an uncommon beauty.

She was also a princess who had just made a serious, life-changing decision if she decided it was the right one to make. She didn’t know her own mind.

Demetrios knew his. However beautiful, sexy and appealing she was, he wasn’t getting involved with her.

But he was already beginning to realize that unless Anny decided to share his bed it was going to be a very long two weeks.