Affaire Royale by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts [Roberts, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Chapter 7

Like too many other things, Brie had forgotten what it was to really relax. Learning how was a discovery in pleasure, and one that was blissfully easy. She hoped that when other memories came back to her, they'd be as sweet

Still, she'd found one more thing she could be certain of. She was as at home on the sea as she was on land. It was a simple pleasure—as relaxing was—and therefore an important one, to find that she knew her way around canvas and rope. If she'd been alone on the pretty little sloop, Brie could have sailed her. She'd have had the control, the knowledge and the strength. Of that she was certain.

She could listen to the noise of the water against the hull as the boat gathered speed and know she'd heard the sound before. It didn't matter where or how.

She loved to sail Everyone Reeve had spoken to had confirmed it. The idea for a day on the water had come to him when he'd noticed that the finely strung nerves, the strain and the depression hadn't eased. Not as much as she pretended. She'd told him not to be kind, but it wasn't always possible to follow even the orders of a princess.

Relying on his instincts, he'd let her take the tiller when they'd cast off. Now he watched her turn it slightly, away from the wind. In accord, he pulled in on the main-sheet to quiet and stretch the flapping canvas. As the boat sped across the wind, it gathered more speed. He heard Brie laugh as the sails filled.

"It's wonderful," she called. "The best. So free, so simple."

The wind exhilarated her. Speed, on this first run, seemed to be imperative. Power, after being for so long under the power of others, was intoxicating. Control— at last she'd found something she could control. Her hand was light on the tiller, adjusting, as Reeve did, whenever it was necessary to keep the pace at maximum.

Walls, obligations, responsibilities disappeared. All that was left was water and wind. Time wasn't important here. She could push it aside, as perhaps she'd done before. As she now knew she'd do again. The sun was as it should be on a holiday. Bright, full, warm—gold in the sky, white on the sea. Holding the tiller steady with her knee, Brie slipped out of the oversized cotton shirt. Her brief bikini made a shrug at modesty. She wanted the sun on her skin, the wind on it. Skillfully she navigated so that she avoided any other boats. Privacy she wouldn't sacrifice.

For a few hours she'd be selfish. For a few hours she didn't have to be a princess, but only a woman, stroked by the wind, soothed by the sun. With another laugh she shook back her hair, only to have the wind swirl through it again:

"I've done this before."

Reeve relaxed; the wind was doing the work for the moment. "It's your boat," he said easily. "According to your father,

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