“Okay, now I’m embarrassed,” Kerry said, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I’m taking A—Mack away before you reveal any more family secrets.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the small bedroom she’d stayed in many times when she’d visited. Once inside, she drew open the curtains, but couldn’t see anything outside due to the early evening shadows. A mirror image of her and Alexi, standing close together, stared back.

“My aunt and uncle are just curious. Plus, they want to impress you with how wonderful I am,” she added flippantly to lighten the mood. “They always say I’m their favorite niece, but I suspect they say the same thing to my two sisters.”

Alexi laughed. “I don’t need them to expound on your virtues. I’d already figured that out on my own.”

She grabbed her suitcase and slipped it onto the bed. “I’m disappointed. I wanted to be a woman of mystery.”

“Oh, I’m sure there are many layers I have yet to uncover,” he responded in a sultry tone that made her breath hitch and her palms grow damp. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, confident, powerful and just a little mysterious himself.

She wished he didn’t make those suggestive comments in such a sexy voice. Her mind filled with all types of “uncovering” possibilities.

“I’m going to unpack real quick, then help Aunt Marcy get supper ready. If you’d like to wash up, or look around, go ahead.”

He didn’t immediately take the hint, watching her intensely from the doorway. She wasn’t locked in a room with him; she could push by him if she wanted and be in the hallway of the relatively small house. Or she could just shout her aunt or uncle’s name and they’d be here in an instant. But she didn’t feel threatened…at least not in an uncomfortable sense. A kind of a welcome, yet edgy sense of awareness flowed between them.

This felt different from their time together in the car, probably because they hadn’t been staring at each other. This felt…dangerously thrilling.

Could Prince Alexi be her reward for ten long years of hard work?

After a dinner of surprisingly tasty hamburger steak with grilled onions, mashed potatoes and fried okra, Alexi welcomed a walk along the beach. He and Kerry took a towel to sit upon and a flashlight to see their way to what she called “the seawall.”

“Your aunt and uncle are charming,” he said as they neared the busy thoroughfare that ran along the coastline. Several other couples, some young people and a few families were also out on foot tonight. When there was a lull in the automobile traffic, he could hear the waves breaking against the shore. The smell of saltwater coated the warm, humid air.

“They are wonderful people. It was their idea for the family to take up a collection and buy Marcy’s mother’s car. She went into an assisted-living facility in Alvin, which is just south of Houston. Since Aunt Marcy is in a wheelchair and needs a specially equipped van, they didn’t need an extra car.”

“I’m sure everyone will feel more confident now that you have a much newer car,” he commented, remembering their earlier conversation.

“Yes, but the funny thing is now that I’ve graduated, I’ll only be driving about four miles round trip.”

“That’s all the distance from your mother’s house to this Grayson Industries?” he asked as they crossed the street.

“Actually, I’m getting my own apartment. I’m moving in next week.” She turned to look at him, her face alight with joy. “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to having my own place for the first time in my life. No sharing a bathroom. No being quiet because everyone else is sleeping. No one to steal my food from the refrigerator.”

Alexi laughed. “I know what you mean. My first flat in London was absolute heaven. I did all the typical bachelor things. My flat was messy, smelly and tastelessly decorated.”

Kerry laughed. He felt his own smile fading as he remembered other things about living on his own. Girlfriends, some attracted to his title, some hoping for an introduction to one of the British princes, some just looking for a good time. Easy sex, although not nearly as much as some might have assumed. He didn’t want to think that Kerry would have the equivalent experience. Boyfriends. Easy sex of any sort.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like the beach?”

He turned his attention back to the present and Kerry. Forcing a smile, he took her hand. “I adore the beach.”

“You’re slipping into your British accent again.”

“I know, but let me be myself for a while. I’ve been very good at playing Hank McCauley, if I do say so myself.” He pulled her aside as three people on in-line skates whizzed past. Kerry’s leg brushed his as their hips bumped briefly before she stepped away.

“Yes, you have.” She swung their linked hands while strolling along the sidewalk, apparently not as affected as he by their contact. “This seawall was built after a huge hurricane in 1900. The whole island was raised to keep it from ever being submerged again, and this seawall was built of concrete and rock to keep the water from washing away the shoreline.”

“Very impressive—both the history and your knowledge of the area.”

“My aunt and uncle are great history buffs. They have a book on Galveston you might find interesting, just in case you have trouble sleeping.”

“Good to know,” he said as they started down the steps that took them to the beach. He had an idea he would have trouble sleeping with Kerry so near, yet so far away. Ever since seeing the cozy bedroom she’d be occupying, he’d envisioned her stretched out on that small bed, an alluring smile lighting up her cute, freckled face.

The smell of the ocean was stronger here, the sand deep as they stepped off the wooden steps onto the beach. The sound of the waves was even and reassuring as he again took Kerry’s hand. Lamps from the seawall illuminated the area enough that they could see where they were walking. Other couples strolled closer to the water, where the sand was firm and wet. White foam on the waves gleamed silver in the artificial light.

“I suppose it’s not as wonderful as those Mediterranean beaches you’re used to.”

Alexi chuckled. “Actually, European beaches are almost all rocks. We have very little sand, especially something this fine and pale.”

“Really?”

“For truly wonderful beaches, we go to the Caribbean or Central or South America.”

“I’d love to travel someday,” she said wistfully. “I get two weeks of vacation a year, but I have to wait six months to take part of that. After five years, I get three weeks.”

“Sometimes shorter holidays can be very relaxing.”

“Yes. We have Memorial Day, the Fourth of July and then Labor Day coming up. Maybe I can plan a long weekend someplace fun. Corpus Christi or Las Vegas or New Orleans.”

He didn’t correct the impression she’d gotten from his use of “holiday.” In England, the word was used instead of the American “vacation.” But whatever Kerry called time off from work, he wondered if she would venture somewhere alone. Or would she have a boyfriend to accompany her on one of these upcoming weekends?

Perhaps he could fly over and take a holiday with her.

Perhaps their brief relationship didn’t have to end with him going back to Belegovia on Sunday. Unless, of course, he immediately became involved with someone else at the insistence of his father. Unless he became engaged to one of the European elite who had been selected for him.

“I love it here,” Kerry breathed, barely above a whisper. He had to lean close to catch her words over the rhythmic pounding of the surf. “The sound of the waves is so peaceful. Sometimes I just sit on the rocks,” she said, pointing to a man-made rocky pier that jutted into the surf, “and watch for hours.”

“I feel that way when I’m on a boat,” Alexi admitted. “Especially a sailboat. There’s nothing like the rocking motion of the water, the slap of the waves against the hull, to lull your brain into semiconscious bliss.”