His hair was swept back, just brushing his collar, his eyes blue flames that singed her even from across the room. She expected him to continue ignoring her. But he surprised her by striding straight toward her. All eyes followed him, and her heart leaped into her throat.
Rowan stopped in front of them and nodded to her father. “Sir, I believe your daughter and I owe the media a dance.”
Owe the media?
What about what they owed each other?
And how could he just stand there as if nothing had happened between them, as if they hadn’t bared their bodies and souls to each other? She had a gloriously undignified moment of wanting to kick him. But this was her time to shine and she refused to let him wreck it. She stepped into his arms, and he gestured to the band. They segued into a rendition of “Ave Maria,” with a soloist singing.
Her heart took hope that he’d chosen the piece for her. He led her to the middle of the dance floor. Other couples melted away and into the crowd, leaving them alone, at the mercy of curious eyes and cameras.
As she allowed herself to be swept into his arms—into the music—she searched for something to say. “I appreciate the lovely song choice.”
“It fits,” he answered, but his face was still creased in a scowl, his eyes roving over her.
“Don’t you like the dress?”
“I like the woman in the dress,” he said hoarsely. “If you’d been paying attention, you would have realized my eyes have been saying that for a long time before you changed up your wardrobe.”
“So why are you scowling?”
“Because I want this whole farce of a week to be over.”
“Oh,” she said simply, too aware of his hand on her waist, his other clasping her fingers.
“Do you believe me? About the dress, I mean.” His feet moved in synch with hers, their bodies as fluid on the dance floor as they’d been making love.
“We’ve exchanged jabs in the past, insults even, but you’ve always been honest.”
“Then why are you still sleeping on another floor of the hotel?”
“Oh, Rowan,” she said bittersweetly. “Sex isn’t the problem between us.”
“Remind me what is?”
“The way you close people—me—out. It took me a long time to realize I’m deserving of everything. And so are you.”
“I guess there’s nothing left to say then.”
The music faded away, and with a final sweep across the floor he stopped in front of her parents.
Rowan passed her hand back to her father. “With all due respect, sir, take better care of her.”
Her mother smothered a laugh.
Her father arched a royal eyebrow. “I beg your pardon.”
“More security detail. She’s a princess. She deserves to be cared for and protected like one.”
With a final nod, Rowan turned away and melted into the crowd and out of her life.
* * *
Five hours later, Mari hugged her pillow to her chest, watching her mom settle into the other double bed in the darkened room. “Mother, aren’t we wealthy enough for you to have a suite or at least a room of your own?”
Susan rolled to her side, facing her daughter in the shadowy room lit only by moonlight streaming in. “I honestly thought you would be staying with Dr. Boothe even though this room was still booked in your name. And even with the show of good faith your father and I have given, we’re not back to sharing a room.”
Curtains rustled with the night ocean breeze and sounds of a steel-drum band playing on the beach for some late-night partiers.
“Rowan and I aren’t a couple anymore.” Although the haunting beauty of that dance still whispered through her, making her wonder what more she could have done. “It was just a…fling.”
The most incredible few days of her life.
“Mari dear, you are not the fling sort,” her mother reminded her affectionately. “So why are you walking away from him?”
Tears clogged her throat. “I’m honestly too upset to talk about this.” She flipped onto her back, clenching her fists against the memory of his tuxedoed shoulders under her hands.
The covers rustled across the room as her mother sat up. “I made the biggest mistake of my life when I was about your age.”
“Marrying my father. Yeah, I got that.” Was it in her DNA to fail at relationships? Her parents had both been divorced twice.
“No, marrying the man I loved—your father—was the right move. Thinking I could change him? I screwed up there.” She hugged her knees to her chest, her graying blond hair trailing down her back. “Before you think I’m taking all the blame here, he thought I would change, as well. So the divorce truly was a fifty-fifty screw-up on our part. He should have realized my free spirit is what he fell in love with and I should have recognized how drawn I was to his devotion to his country.”
What was her mother trying to tell her? She wanted to understand, to step outside of the awkwardness in more ways than just being comfortable in a killer red dress. Except her mom was talking about not changing at all.
“You’re going to have to spell it out for me more clearly.”
“Your father and I weren’t a good couple. We weren’t even particularly good at being parents. But, God, you sure turned out amazing,” her mother said with an unmistakable pride, soothing years of feeling like a disappointment. “Deen and I did some things right, and maybe if we’d focused more on the things we did right, we might have lasted.”
Mari ached to pour out all the details of her fight with Rowan, how she needed him to open up. And how ironic was it that he accused her of not venting her emotions? Her thoughts jumbled together until she blurted out in frustration, “Do you know how difficult it is to love a saint?”
Her mother reached out in the dark, across the divide between their beds. “You love him?”
Mari reached back and clasped her mother’s hand. “Of course I do. I just don’t know how to get through to him.”
“You two have been a couple for—what?—a week? Seems to me like you’re giving up awful fast.”
Mari bristled defensively. “I’ve known him for years. And it’s been an intense week.”
“And you’re giving that up? I’d so hoped you would be smarter than I was.” Her mom gave her hand a final squeeze. “Think about it. Good night, Mari.”
Long into the night, Mari stared out the window at the shoreline twinkling with lighted palm trees. The rolling waves crashed a steady reminder of her day sailing with Rowan. He’d done so much to comfort her. Not just with words, but with actions, by planning the day away from the hotel and painful memories.