He scraped his fingers through his hair, and stared out the window. The recent announcement ripped André to shreds. Thank goodness he’d retreated to their lake estate, so they wouldn’t be hounded by paparazzi and the press.
Lago del Sol, in the lake country of Solana reminded him much of Italy’s Lake Como, though much less populated and quite a bit warmer in the equatorial climes. Just as blue. Like Gemma’s eyes.
His heart sank.
Stefano knocked on their door. No other security detail traveled with them this time, so they wouldn’t draw attention in town as they drove in.
Just Stefano.
“Your Highness?”
“Come in.”
The Solanian soldier entered, his back rigid. Maintaining the guardsman posture and blank expression, as if ingrained in his blood after all these years, despite his casual navy polo shirt and slacks. “The queen has heard the rumors. She’d like to speak with you.”
André nodded. “Tell her I’ll ring her back in a few minutes. I need to speak with someone else first.”
Stefano bowed, his salt and pepper hair considerably more ‘salty’ over the years, especially since the assassination of the king and crown prince nearly twelve months ago.
He left, closing the door behind him.
André prepared himself for the ugly conversation he was about to have. With a final sigh, he stood from the bed, and strolled to the patio door. With a heavy push, he stepped out onto a large stone balcony and descended the stairs off to the side. The two dozen steps ended in a private beach, the peach sand soft and granular, like warm sugar under his bare feet.
He shoved his hands in his pockets; the canvas shorts snug against his thighs. And waited.
After a few moments of absorbing the sun, the figure he anticipated swam back to shore in a strong, even stroke.
Gemma reached the shoreline and stood, her black sports bikini dripping water down her toned body. Her refreshed expression and tan skin nearly made him ache with wanting.
She was a Texas girl through and through, but the tropical look fitted her even better, in his opinion.
She brushed her blonde hair back, the ends reaching her lower neck. When dry, her hair reached just under her chin in wavy strands. He loved to run his hands through it.
When she opened her eyes and spotted him, she smiled. That earth-shattering smile he craved, one she rarely gave when he’d first met her, but recently wore more often.
Then she registered his expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I have some bad news.”
Gemma wrung the water from her hair, and placed her hands on her hips. Despite the horrible news he was about to reveal, just looking at her tight and toned form made him lustful.
“I found the leak,” he announced.
“That’s good news.”
He shook his head. “Not when I tell you who.”