Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,60

on him. His skin was cool and salty from the ocean, quickly warming as she swirled her tongue around him.

She lifted her head and smiled up at his face, pulled into taut lines.

He broke then, kicking his suit free and picking her up as she squealed his name. He carried her toward the tent, but she stopped him. “No, here.”

“On the beach?” He gave her a sly smile. “Between the woods and the beach, you’re turning into a real nature girl.” He set her on her feet and grabbed a blanket out of the cabana. He tossed down the blanket and tugged the corners to smooth it.

Julia untied the rest of the bikini strings and lay down next to Frank. “You’re so beautiful.” She stroked his face, and he actually started to blush.

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“You are.” She rolled onto her back, the sand soft under the blanket. “Make love to me under the sun, Franco.”

He swallowed hard and moved on top of her. “Julia, open for me.”

She eagerly did, and he slid into her. His thrusts were hard and possessive, making her gasp with pleasure. She tightened down on him and he groaned, his skin turning slick with sweat.

“Come with me, Julia. I can’t wait much longer.” He balanced his weight on one strong arm and stroked her sensitive nub again. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked with him, becoming one with him. His fingers teased and caressed her, and her climax built again. He noticed and thrust harder.

She cried his name as she came. He groaned in relief and followed, the sounds of their pleasure swirling in the air like the calls of the seabirds.

Frank rested his head next to hers, his breath still choppy and fast. Julia kissed his cheek and stared up into the sky. This was pure perfection—if only life could be like this forever. She shoved her worries away, determined not to let them intrude again as she held her wonderful man in her arms.

12

THE DREAM CAME AGAIN THE next night, the first time in the two weeks she’d been with Frank. Julia knew she was in their bed back in Belas Aguas and knew she was only dreaming. But she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t wake herself. She was crying in her sleep at what would come.

It hadn’t started out as anything but the typically drunk patient on a Saturday night in her Boston emergency department. He had come in for stitches for a scalp wound—nothing serious, but it looked as if someone had bashed him due to the bruising around the wound.

He’d only mumbled something about standing up under an open kitchen cabinet when she’d asked him what had happened. She had her doubts but he was a large guy, definitely big enough to take care of himself. His dark flannel shirt was covered in dried blood. His chart said his name was Mark.

She’d numbed his wound and prepared it for suturing, her needle ready to close the edges. She probably wouldn’t need most of the suture kit, which included several different clamps and a scalpel.

Julia inserted the needle into his scalp, trying to line up the edges of the skin as neatly as possible. He twitched. “Did you feel that?” He might need more local anesthetic.

“No, just do it.”

“Okay, but let me know if it starts to hurt.” She moved along the wound, knotting and cutting the threads.

She focused on her work but noticed Mark getting more and more agitated, twitching from side to side and breathing rapidly. He didn’t flinch when she poked him, so it wasn’t pain. Was he mentally ill?

Through an opening in the privacy curtain, she caught sight of Lyle, the retired cop who worked as a security guard in their emergency department. She jerked her head slightly in her patient’s direction and Lyle’s still-sharp instincts made him amble casually in her direction.

Lyle stuck his head in the room. “Julia, how’re you doing today?” His broad Boston accent always made her smile, but she was getting a weird vibe from her patient. Lyle was, too. He came into the room, his tan uniform pressed neatly and his silver hospital security badge shining on his chest. “How are you tonight, sir?”

“Gotta get out of here!” Mark jumped off the bed and jerked away. Julia yelped, her thread still sticking out of his head with the needle dangling in his hair.

“Easy, buddy,” Lyle tried to soothe him, thumbing his radio for back-up.

Julia tried to get out of his