I was grateful for the busyness of work in the days leading up to my trip to Woaden. Without work I'm sure I would have spent every spare second worrying, obsessing, over-analyzing every little text and interaction. But with work – well, the time practically flew by. My friends were good about it, too. They knew something was going on with the Prince, but they also seemed to understand that I wasn't ready to talk about it. Jane tried to push me a few times, but Lily and Christine helped me deal with her, insisting that it was up to me what I said and when.

Elsa was understanding, too, pulling me aside one evening after another hectic day of primping various actresses for an awards show.

"You're doing good work, Eva. You know that, you know you're good. But this job isn't just about makeup, is it? It's about clients and making people feel at ease. You're not awed by famous people, but you're respectful and kind. I'm thinking about hiring a couple of new apprentices – not right away, things are too crazy, but soon. And when I do I'll be looking into creating one or two permanent positions here. Is that something you would be interested in?"

I looked up at my boss, unable to quite believe what I was hearing. It usually takes years to make it in the industry, to move up from living gig to gig. Elsa must have seen the surprise on my face.

"Don't look so shocked," she chuckled. "This can be a flaky business, but it's a business. And anyone who lets talent slip through their fingers isn't a good businesswoman, don't you agree?"

I nodded. "Yes. Of course, I, um –"

"Just think about it. Nothing is official yet, I just wanted to float this idea with you and see what you thought. But I don't need a response right now. Take some time and think about it. I know you're not a citizen here but if it comes to that I can help you on that front, too."

Everything was going right for me. At least that's how it seemed. Even without Prince Killian in my life, Elsa Banbridge coming close to offering me a full-time job on her team was more than I ever expected. Rhenland was supposed to be temporary, a little experience abroad with a well-known name in the industry, something I could add to my list of qualifications when I moved back to the States. Because that was always the plan – moving back. All I ever wanted was a little something to call my own, a way to pay the bills, maybe take a vacation to somewhere sunny during the cold Michigan winters. Now the world was opening up in front of my eyes, opportunities I never even dreamed of were becoming real.

And then there was Killian. Oh, I was so naive back then. If I settled in Rhenland, maybe whatever it was we were building could become something more than temporary? I didn't let myself go too far down that path, even as fantasy – it was too dangerous. Killian Chatham-Hayes wasn't anything like I'd expected him to be. But his past, his history of womanizing – those weren't fake. I had to be careful. I thought I was being careful.

It was in that spirit that I declined a helicopter ride to Woaden and insisted on taking the train by myself. As if my choice of transport could somehow keep me from falling off the cliff I knew I was walking along the edge of with him. There was a car waiting for me outside the station.

"The Prince thought it would be a better idea if he didn't meet you in person," Dan said as he held the door open and I climbed into the backseat. "Security reasons."

"I understand," I replied. "Do you mind opening a window?"

The window whirred down immediately and I took a deep breath. The air smelled different – fresher, and laced with marine salt. I didn't even know the name of the town I was in, but it was very pretty, all pale yellow and beige stone houses and narrow, twisting lanes. We weren't in the town for long, though. Soon we were speeding along a cliff-top road, with gently rolling green hills on one side and the wild, slate-blue Atlantic on the other. It was breathtaking. I fully intended to spend at least half an hour singing the praises of Woaden as soon as I saw Killian. But then I did see Killian, waiting for me on the front steps of a house made from the same light-colored stone the houses in town were made of, but on a much grander scale.

Is there anything better than seeing someone look at you the way Killian looked at me that day, reflecting back exactly what I was feeling in my own heart – the sheer joy of being with the one person you want to be with more than anyone else in the world? We both tried to hide it a little, I think, but neither of us really succeeded.

"Eva," he greeted me, opening the car door and taking my hand.

"Killian."

We stood there grinning at each other for a few seconds before he leaned in and gave me the two-cheek kiss. He smelled good. Dan was parking the car and two other serious-looking security guards were stationed at the front of the house. I was glad of their presence, because without it the temptation to wrap myself around Killian like a vine around an oak tree might have been too strong, and I didn't want to be that obvious.

The prince took my bag and ushered me up the front steps and into the house. As soon as the door was closed behind us he turned to me.

"I'm happy to see you, Eva. That doesn't even begin to cover it, but it'll have to do – a man has to maintain a certain level of dignity, don't you think?"

I giggled a little nervously, overcome with a sudden shyness now that we were alone. "Me too. I mean, I'm happy to see you, too."

Killian took a step back, then, and looked me in the eye. "Jesus, Eva. You're beautiful. I know I keep saying it. I'm not a poet, am I?"

"I'm sure you have other good qualities," I smiled, reaching out and tugging gently on one of his shirtsleeves.

"Right. A few. Are you tired? I thought you might want to take a nap after that train trip, it's quite long."

A nap. Yeah, right. I wasn't tired, I was effervescent. A human glass of champagne, bubbling away in front of Prince Killian. "No," I replied. "I'm not tired at all."

"Good. I want to show you the garden – no vegetables this time, I promise. Well, maybe a few vegetables. Then we can cook some supper, would you like that?"

What I wanted to tell him was that I was pretty much up for anything if it was with him. That I'd be on board for a tour of the local garbage processing facility if he was leading it. Instead I just told him I'd love to see the garden.

As we walked through the house and out the back door, Killian took my hand. He did it casually, as if he hadn't even thought about it, and led me down a path through a small stand of trees until we emerged on a narrow, rocky headland surrounded on all sides by the sea. I could hear waves crashing against the cliffs below us.

"Damn," I said. "This is some 'garden.' I've never been anywhere like this – I've never even seen the ocean. Not up close, I mean."

Killian turned to me, confused. "What? What do you mean you've never seen the ocean?"

"Well, I saw it on the ride from the station. And I obviously saw it from the plane on the flight to Rhenland, but I've never seen it like this."

"Never?!" he asked again, flabbergasted. "Are you joking?"

"No," I shrugged, not quite understanding what the big deal was. "I grew up in Michigan – there's no ocean in Michigan. There are some big lakes, though."

"But didn't you ever see it on holiday? Didn't you ever visit people who lived near the sea?"

Killian's shock that I'd never seen the ocean was beginning to make me feel slightly defensive. "No, I didn't," I responded. "I don't know what else to tell you, my parents didn't have a lot of money and they were always working. We weren't completely poverty-stricken or anything, but there definitely wasn't enough time or money to take vacations."

Killian looked chastised. "Shit, Eva. I'm sorry. I – I'm an idiot. I didn't even –"

"It's OK," I told him. "You're not an idiot. You're just, well, we're both from really different places, aren't we? Different backgrounds. I suppose we should expect this kind of thing, huh?"

"All the same, I'm a jerk. I didn't mean to imply anything, either – about your parents or your family. They raised you, didn't they? My parents raised my spoiled ass, so I think it's clear who wins the parenting stakes."

Killian was a master at that typical Rhennish self-deprecation, often deployed during small moments of tension. I reassured him again that it was fine, that I wasn't offended, and he suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Let's go right now."

"Let's go where?"

"The sea, Eva! The sea! Come on, come with me."

I had no idea how we were going to get down the steep cliff – and it was a long way down – but Killian showed me a narrow, precarious-looking path that had been carved into the rock on one side of the headland.

"Um – I don't know," I said nervously. "I'm not really wearing the right shoes for this."

"No excuses," he replied, not looking back at me as he started down the path, pulling me along behind him.

"Killian, wait!" I screeched, taking another look at the drop and refusing to go any further. All it would take was one misstep... "It's too steep!"

He looked back then, realizing that I was serious. "OK. We don't have to go if you don't want to – I thought you were just kidding around. But I've been up and down this path a thousand times, Eva. And – look at me." I looked at him. "I promise you you'll be safe. I promise."

It's not usually the case that I can just be talked out of something I'm afraid of. But for some reason, I just believed Killian when he said I'd be safe. So I steeled myself and followed him down the path. He was so careful with me, constantly checking that I was OK, making sure that I felt secure. After about twenty-five minutes, when we got to the bottom, I was elated and proud of myself.

"See?" Killian said. "You did it. Well done, you."

There was a small patch of sand at the path's end, barely enough to be called a beach, and hemmed in on all sides by the dark, foreboding cliffs I'd just descended from. Killian was taking his shoes off, gesturing at me to do the same.

"Oooh, that's cold," I commented a few moments later when I, too, was barefoot on the wet sand.

"Wait until you feel the water. Actually, just a sec, hold on." Killian pulled his phone out and held it up. "To commemorate the moment," he said. "The first time Eva James met the sea. You can send it to your parents."

With his free hand, he reached out to me, laughing when I gasped as the first frigid wave washed over my feet and soaked the bottoms of my pants, which I hadn't rolled up high enough. Freezing or not, though, I knew it was a big moment. I bent down and let a wave wash over my hands and then held them up for Killian to take a photo.

"Look! The Atlantic!"

Killian didn't reply, not right away. He was just standing back, watching me exclaim over a dark ribbon of seaweed as it tickled my feet. I could feel him there, beside me, even as I looked out over the slate-gray waves.

"Eva."

I turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "Yes?" When he didn't respond right away I asked again. "What?"

Still no answer. I was about to ask for a third time when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me tightly against him, staring down into my eyes with an intensity that woke something up inside me. He bent down and kissed me – a kiss so deep and so hungry that it caused a flower of heat to bloom between my legs.

"Killian," I breathed, my mouth open, when he stopped for a moment. He didn't stop for long. I buried my wet, salty fingers in his hair and pulled him down to me as he slipped his tongue between my lips.

There was a sense of aggression in him, one I'd had hints of before, at the party, but much stronger that day on the beach. And something in me responded to it on a level below conscious thought, opening myself for him, for his hands and his kisses.

The change in mood happened so fast. I went from happily playing in the sea to aching for Killian in seconds, leaning back against the rough cliff face and lifting one of my legs up, trying to get it around his hip because all I wanted to feel was the sweet weight of him there, between my thighs. He ran one hand down my leg and lifted it even further, tilting his hips forward against me until I felt him, hard and solid, right there where I needed it.

"Fuck," he growled as he kissed his way down my neck and I whispered his name because it was all I could do. "I love the way you sound when you say my name like that, Eva."

Everything about Killian was masculine – he was so much taller than me, and much bigger. I ran my hands over his broad shoulders and his smooth, muscled neck, closing my eyes as he yanked my t-shirt out of the way and kissed the swell of one breast. The clothing between us was suddenly in the way. I wanted to feel his skin against mine.

"Wait," he murmured as I started to unbutton my cardigan. "Wait. Fuck. Eva. Hold on. The tide is coming in. We can't stay down here."

As if on cue a wave crashed over our feet, right up against the cliff where we were standing. I didn't care. I pulled Killian back down to me, opening my mouth, begging him for his tongue. And he gave it to me, yanking my cardigan the rest of the way open and cupping one hand over my left breast, caressing it through the lace of my bra until the nipple pebbled and stood up.

"Oh my God," I sighed, closing my eyes tightly and sucking my breath in as the warmth between my legs started to concentrate itself into an acute ache. I needed him. Nothing else mattered.

Another wave hit us, higher up this time, soaking my pants to mid-thigh. The tiny little sliver of beach was rapidly disappearing. When Killian pulled away from me his face was flushed, his eyes dark.

"We have to –"

Before he could finish I slipped my hand down between our bodies and he caught me by the wrist, holding me away from what he knew I was going for.

"Don't, Eva. Don't. I swear to God if you do that we're both going to drown. We have to go. We have to go right now."

He stepped onto the path and pulled me up behind him. It took twenty-five minutes to get down there, how long was it going to take to get back up? And how was I supposed to manage not to fall when my knees were so weak I probably would have had difficulty staying upright on flat ground?

Somehow, we did it. Laughing, trying to keep ourselves together enough to avoid plunging off the cliff and barely able to concentrate on where we were putting our feet, but we did it. Just before we reached the garden Killian told me to button up my cardigan.

"There are security guys all over the grounds – even if you don't see them, they're there."

So I did my best, buttoning myself up and trying to keep a straight face as we walked back to the house. As soon as we were inside Killian shook his head and looked at me.

"Eva?"

"Yeah?"

"The next time I suggest scaling a cliff when you would rather be making out, punch me in the face."

I opened my mouth to reply but he was all over me again, cutting off my words with another kiss, tearing at my cardigan until the buttons I'd just so carefully refastened went flying off, skittering across the floor. It wasn't going to take long, I knew that. I felt it. Killian was in such a hurry, and I loved it, loved the way it overpowered me and erased any possibility of denying him. He wanted to take, and I wanted to give, to offer myself up like a juicy peach to be devoured.

We both tore his shirt off, and then he unhooked my bra, pressing his lips together and inhaling deeply when it fell to the floor.

"Jesus, Eva," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Look at you..."

He cupped my breasts in his hands, circling his fingertips around my nipples before bending down and closing his mouth over one of them, sucking and teasing me with the tip of his tongue until it felt like I couldn't breathe anymore.

It was such a strange feeling, like sitting in front of a feast, starving, all five senses overwhelmed by the sight and the smell of the food and somehow not being able to eat enough, to get your fill. Whatever Killian did to me, it was both too much and not enough. As soon as we stumbled onto the sofa and, for the first time, I finally experienced the sensation of the full weight of his body on top of me, I immediately needed more. More of him. When he rocked his hips down and I felt his hardness against my thigh, it wasn't enough.

"Killian," I said, my voice already ragged and pleading. "Killian, I need –"

He looked right into my eyes. "I know what you need, Eva."

And then we were both struggling out of the rest of our clothes, chucking them on the floor, desperate to get back to each other. When we were finally there, Killian stopped just before giving me what I wanted, wrapping his hand around his cock and running it over my inner thigh. I couldn't even speak, the only sounds coming from me were needy little whimpers and moans as he got close and then pulled slightly away again. When he pushed himself up between my lips I cried out and he groaned, feeling me for the first time, feeling my wetness.

"You did that," I gasped, watching his eyes glaze over. "Killian, please. I want you to feel me. I want you to feel what you're doing to me."

It didn't take any more than that. My body arched up off the sofa when he pushed himself into me, not stopping until I was full of him and then holding himself there, exhaling hard. He was big. Big enough to create a sensation almost of being impaled, of being stretched open, invaded.

"Eva," he moaned, pulling out almost all the way and then pushing back in, slowly. Too slowly. It usually takes a long time for me to come with a man. A lot of the time it doesn't happen at all. But with Killian I could feel the sweet, hot fire building up in my sex from the very first second. I looked up into his eyes and we just watched each other as our bodies moved together, entranced.

"You're going to make me come," I breathed as he refused to speed up. "I can feel it already, I can, Killian, oh –!"

He plunged into me deeper, harder, and I dug my fingers into the muscles of his back as the nagging, desperate little ache in my pussy got more and more insistent. I was close – he was getting me close, with every stroke.

"Are you?" he asked, biting my earlobe. "Are you, Eva? That's what I want, baby. That's all I want. I want to feel you coming –"

His voice broke into a loud groan as I lifted my hips up, pushing back against him, almost out of my mind with the need to get more of him – all of him – inside me.

"Killian," I sighed as the tidal wave of bliss loomed over me, threatening to take me away. "Killian, please. Oh my God. Killian. Oh! Please. Please!"

"Fuck," he snarled into my ear. "Fuck, Eva!"

He was different when he was inside me, as he got closer to his peak. He was beyond making jokes or smart comments, lost in his own overpowering lust. That's what finally sunk me under a wave of ecstasy – Killian himself. The way he bared his teeth as he tried to hold off a little longer, the way he drove himself into me, finally, without control. I threw my head back on the sofa and heard my own inhalation of breath, my own strangled cries as my pussy tightened around him and everything exploded into white, hot sweetness.

"Eva," he groaned, as if from far away, as I came. "Eva...oh Jesus Christ you feel good, oh fuck, Eva. Oh fuck."

He thrust into me again, hard enough to force the air out of my lungs and held himself there, all the way in as he let himself go, his face a grimace of pure desire as I watched, taken.

I was coming back to myself by then, able to watch him, to really experience his pleasure. No man has ever come close to making me feel what I felt when Killian was coming inside me. It was almost better than my own orgasm, seeing him come, feeling him, hearing that deep, animalistic tone in his voice.

When it was over, and we were disentangling our spent bodies, I lay back down on the couch, because standing up wasn't going to happen, not when my limbs suddenly felt like they were made of marshmallow. Killian was out of breath, and I could see a few strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. The intensity of a few moments ago had melted, for me, into a kind of all-encompassing affection. He looked over at me.

"Goddamn, Eva. I – yeah, I don't think I can talk. That was, Jesus, that was... I usually last longer than that, you know, I –"

"Killian," I replied sleepily. "I think maybe we just needed to get that one out of our systems, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

I woke up a little while later, snuggled up against him. It was almost dark by then and I was chilly. I reached down and scrabbled on the floor for some clothes and came up with his shirt, which I pulled over my head. Then I lay a blanket over him, kissed his cheek gently so he wouldn't wake up, and went off to find a bathroom.

My thighs were wet, and it took me a few seconds to realize why. We hadn't used a condom. I'm not usually careless about that, not at all. But it hadn't even crossed my mind, not once. And even as the temptation to scold myself was there, I couldn't. I loved the feeling of wetness between my legs, I loved what it meant, even as I knew how reckless it was.

I finally found a bathroom and flicked on the light, catching my own eye in the mirror. There was no guilt there, not an ounce of regret. Whatever was happening between the Prince and I, it no longer felt like the meaningless, short-term affair I assumed it would be. The way he looked at me when he was inside me... even remembering it gave me a little twinge between my legs. So if it was more than casual, what was it?