His Royal Pleasure by Leanne Banks Page B

her.
    She swallowed. “Al, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Katherine began.
    He brushed her hair behind her bare shoulder, his gaze falling to her skin. The way he looked at her, she could almost believe he found her beautiful. The notion was so tantalizing that her impulse to flee died instantly. She shivered.
    â€œIt’s an excellent idea. You told me I need to learn how to have fun.” He drew her closer and lowered his mouth to her ear. Their swaying movements brought his thighs against hers, rubbing, stroking. Hard against soft. He parted her legs with one of his, his thigh connecting with her in melting intimacy.
    His voice was deep and rich with promise. “I want you to teach me.”

Chapter Four
    Katherine looked at Al and swallowed a lump in her throat that felt like a watermelon. Yeah, right, she thought. The gap between her “experience” and his would rival the Grand Canyon.
    She wanted to wipe that “I’m gonna eat you alive” smile off his face, but his attention was fixed on her in a way that both frightened and fascinated her. And that damn music was playing in her mind again. She shook her head to clear it, to swat the melody that hummed like a persistent fly.
    The music was sweet and poignant, full of rich memories and hope. Al guided her into a turn, and suddenly it hit her.
    â€œPaganini!” she whispered.
    He frowned. “What?”
    â€œPaganini! The broken music box.” She stared at him in comprehension. “You’re the man on the music box.”
    Thoroughly confused, Al stopped. “Paganini?”
    â€œNo. You’re the man on my music box.” She laughed in relief. “I’m not going crazy. I kept hearing this music whenever you were close, but I couldn’t put my finger on the tune. It’s Paganini.”
    Alex was sure there was something he was missing. He looked at her blankly. She stepped away. Immediately feeling the loss, he reached for her hand. “I’ve been called many things, but never Paganini and never the man on a music box.” He gestured away from the crowd. “Let’s walk on the beach, and you can explain.”
    Katherine hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “I guess I owe you that much. Let me get rid of these shoes.” She kicked them off and carried them with her free hand.
    They walked silently for a few moments. Her hand was small within his. The physical connection wasn’t much, but it affected him. It made him think of things he’d wanted and never had. Al had walked on a moonlit beach before, but tonight seemed new, filled with stars, the murmur of waves and a magic he would have sworn didn’t exist.
    â€œWhen I was ten years old,” she began, “my mother got married for the third time. She spent the summer in the Caribbean, and I was left feeling neglected and sorry for myself.”
    He laced his fingers through hers more tightly, remembering the same feeling during his childhood. “Sounds understandable.”
    â€œYes, well, I was very disillusioned about this romance stuff. Too cynical for such a young girl. I think Uncle Jasper wanted to preserve the idea of forever, happily-ever-after love in my impressionable mind a little longer.” She looked into the distance and smiled. “He bought me this antique music box, and it played a tune by Paganini.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd there was a porcelain man and woman dancing on the top of it. Round and round they went. I used to wind it and watch them for hours. The woman was beautiful, with perfect features.” Her lips twitched. “Gleaming blond hair. I would have dyed my hair that summer if I’d known how.”
    â€œI’m glad you didn’t,” said Al, appalled. “Your hair is beautiful as it is.”
    Disbelief flickered in her eyes, warring with trust. It frustrated Al, but he wanted to hear the rest of the tale. “And the