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‘We’d better get back to the bloody party.’ He groaned, finally releasing her from a kiss that left them both breathless and needy. ‘As soon as we can get away you can do your wild-child act for me.’
‘Want me to striptease?’ Oh, there would be nothing better than their own private party.
He laughed. ‘It wouldn’t take long, would it?’
She gave a saucy shimmy towards the door. ‘I could do some dancing as well.’
His laughter slid into another groan. ‘Don’t torment me.’
Fingers linked, they left the room and walked back towards the ballroom. Just outside the double doors he stopped, turned. He snaked one arm around her waist and she leaned in, ready to receive and return the kiss.
With his thumb he stroked just under her collarbone, just above where her heart was beating. The tips of his fingers traced over the top of the bone. For a moment they paused, enjoying the moment of anticipation, of satisfaction, of pure happiness.
Then she heard the repeated clicking of a camera shutter close by.
She could feel the flush on her cheeks, the afterglow of love-making, knew her lips were swollen from kisses and that her eyes were probably as wide and revealing as James’s were.
And she knew that one photographer had got his shot. The shot of the party. The story.
She relaxed and smiled back into James’s resigned but still-smiling face. The clicking kept up.
They refrained from the kiss; it wasn’t the kind of kiss to be done in public. But the look they shared would be read by the world.
Princess Elissa Karedes had found her safe harbour, her home. She had found her love.
