But he was nothing if not persistent and after a while Grace plucked up enough courage to follow him, wading in up to her thighs with a predictable squeal, and he swam over to her.

‘The water’s good, isn’t it?’ he murmured.

‘It’s…incredible.’ She dipped down to her shoulders, then bobbed up again. ‘And you’re a fantastic swimmer.’

‘I know,’ he agreed, with a complete lack of modesty. ‘So why don’t I show you how it’s done?’

‘Odysseus, I am the least sporty person in the universe.’

But he paid her negativity no heed, wrapping his big hands around her hips. ‘It’s easy. You can stop any time you like. Just lie on your stomach.Neh.Like this. The salt in the water will keep you buoyant.’ His voice curled with something she didn’t recognise. ‘Try to relax.’

Relax? How could she possibly relax when he was touching her bare skin, especially when he put his hand underneath her stomach to support her, while encouraging her to kick her legs? But, to Grace’s surprise, he was way more patient than she had imagined and her first brief attempt at striking out on her own filled her with a disproportionate amount of giggling pride.

‘See?’ he murmured. ‘I told you it would be easy.’

She didn’t answer because now he had slipped his finger inside her bikini bottoms, and the contrast of the water combined with the warm stroke of his finger was almost too sweet to endure. ‘Odysseus,’ she breathed.

‘It’s good, isn’t it?’

‘But what if…what if somebody sees us?’

‘Nobody can see us.’

And just like that, all her resistance drained away and Grace was at the willing mercy of what he was doing to her. Suddenly she seemed to be composed of all the elements—of fire and water, of earth and air—and at the centre of all this was him.

Him.

Strong. Powerful. Indomitable. The sunlight was glinting off his broad shoulders as he continued to work his magic, pleasure slowly building, layer upon sweet layer of it, until she was drowning in it. ‘Odysseus,’ she choked, and his hard kiss silenced her cry.

Slowly, she floated back to earth, and he taught her how to pleasure him beneath the cool waters of the Mirtoan Sea, peeling down his bathers and gripping his silken hardness, hearing his murmur of approval as she experimented. And when he choked out his own low broken moan of fulfilment, Grace was filled with another sense of satisfaction because in that moment she felt like his equal.

They waded back to shore, flopping down on adjoining loungers, screened by the shadow of the overhanging rock and, after a while, he poured them both a glass of champagne. As he touched the crystal flute to hers, Grace realised that she felt supremely comfortable. Thoughtfully, she ate a deliciously cool cherry. For the first time she could really believe that she was going to be his wife and that she was capable of fulfilling that role to both their satisfaction. Yet despite the passionate sex and surprising patience the man she was about to marry remained an enigma. She thought about his choices. His stated refusal to ever contemplate having a family of his own. His marriage to her nothing but an expedient gesture. What had made him so immune to the normal feelings and desires which drove other people? she wondered.

‘Odysseus?’ Tracing a finger down over his rock-hard belly, she felt him shudder. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Anything,’ he said thickly.

It was obvious he was expecting something sensual and she hesitated, loath to shatter the sultry mood which was binding them together with silken ties. But she had to. It wasn’t just that she wanted to know him, there was some bone-deep desire inside her whichneededto know. ‘What made you such a loner?’

Odysseus scowled as Grace’s unwanted question shattered his burgeoning hunger, because the answer was very simple. And private. He’d lost count of the times women had tried to interrogate him like this over the years and it was always in a similar situation. Glowing in the wake of yet another orgasm, they started erroneously thinking he was in the market for deepening their intimacy in other ways. Inevitably, they went straight for the jugular by asking the intensely personal, which instantly sharpened his defences. His mouth hardened because he had always refused to answer intrusive queries before, and didn’t see why that had to change now.

Consequently, the smile he gave was dismissive. ‘Is that really relevant?’ he drawled carelessly, sliding his hand down to straighten Grace’s skewed bikini bottom, making sure he stroked a slick fold of flesh along the way. But although she shivered in response, his attempt to distract her failed because she propped herself up on one elbow and gave him a determined look.

‘I think it is, yes. I mean, I’ve told you plenty about myself, but you haven’t exactly reciprocated, have you?’

‘I told you plenty,’ he answered repressively.

‘I don’t think so.’ She shook her head so that the damp chestnut strands flew around her narrow shoulders. ‘Oh, you filled me in on the story about how you made all your money, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the other stuff. The young you. How you spent your Christmases. That kind of thing.’ She hesitated. ‘Because I don’t want you to be like a stranger to me.’

Odysseus’s scowl deepened. He knew it would be kinder to warn her off. To tell her it wouldn’t make the slightest difference if he recounted the cheerless facts about his upbringing. It wouldn’t change the way he felt. About women. About life. About everything really, including her. ‘I’m not one of those men who enjoyopening up,’ he informed her silkily. ‘That’s why I never do it.’

Still she refused to take the hint. ‘But we will soon be man and wife, Odysseus.’

‘Only on paper,’ he snapped.

‘What about when we go to Tuloranka and we’re staying with the King? Don’t you think it will look a bit…well,weird, if I don’t know anything about you? If something comes up in conversation, for example.’ She pursed her lips together. ‘Unless youwantour marriage to look fake, of course.’

He opened his mouth to say he didn’t particularly care how it looked, until he reminded himself that the notoriously short-tempered King Kaliman might be irritated by a couple who were enjoying his hospitality under false pretences.