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yourself to be tied up and flogged by a pair of women who get so stoned they don’t know how to free you when your heart stops. Or who to call.”

Amy caught her gasp in her hand. Talk about making a traumatic situation even more distressing for all involved!

“Luca, I’m so sorry.” Her hand went to his arm before she realized she was doing it.

He didn’t react beyond stiffening under her touch.

She’d seen clients shut down like this, doing whatever they had to in order to carry on with their daily lives. It told her exactly how badly his father’s behavior had affected him.

“Look, I have to ask before we go any further. Are you sure you’re not just reacting to what you’ve experienced? I’d want to wash my hands of this role if I were in your shoes. That’s understandable, but what you’ve asked me to do is not a decision you should make in haste.”

“It’s not one incident, Amy. It’s everything he stood for. All of the things I’ve learned he was capable of, now that I’m privy to it. It’s appalling. There was a thorough cleaning of house once I took the throne, but how can I claim to be righting his wrongs if I ignore the very basic one where he installed me as monarch instead of my sister?”

The flash of a tortured conscience behind his searing blue eyes tempted her to shift her fingers in a soothing caress. She moved her hand to the soft moss that had grown on the stone wall and scanned the view through the trees.

“And no one will listen to this extremely rational argument? Let you turn things over without drastic measures?”

“My supporters see Sofia as an excellent spare, but they are extremely attached to keeping me exactly where I am. Our constitution doesn’t allow an abdication without proper cause. Even if I was incapacitated, I would keep the crown and Sofia would rule as a regent until I died. I’ve exhausted all other avenues. This is what’s left. I have to prove myself a detriment to the country. An embarrassment that can’t be tolerated because I’m too much like my father after all.”

“Okay. Well...” She considered all she’d learned, formally and informally. “Most scandals fall into three categories—sex, drugs and corruption. It sounds like your father had his toe in all of those?”

“He did.”

“It’s hard to come back from embezzlement or political payoffs. I wouldn’t want to tar you as a crook, especially if you’re planning to take an active part in improving Vallia’s economy afterward.”

“Agreed.”

“Drug scandals usually require a stay in a rehab facility and ongoing counseling. Addiction is an illness, so there’s a risk you’d be expected to continue to rule. It’s also very complicated to manage image-wise. There has to be sincere, visible effort, and it becomes a lifelong process of proving sobriety. There’s always a certain mistrust that lingers in the public eye. The world expects a recovering addict to trip and is always watching for it. I would prefer not to use a drug scandal.”

“So that leaves us with sex.” His mouth curled with dismay.

“Yes. People love to act outraged over sexual exploits, but they all have their own peccadillos to hide so they tend to move on fairly quickly.”

“It can’t be anything harassment related or exploitative,” he said firmly.

“No,” she quickly agreed. “I couldn’t defend that, even a manufactured charge. London Connection is always on the victim’s side in those cases. It will have to be something compromising, like cheating or adultery.” She tapped her chin in thought.

“That would mean courting my way into a relationship with someone in order to betray her. I don’t want to use or hurt an unsuspecting woman.”

“Something that suggests you have a streak of your father’s tastes, then?”

“I’m won’t be tied up and spanked. That’s not my thing.”

“Like anyone would believe you’re a bottom. I’m sorry!” She hid her wince behind her hand. “These are habits of a lifetime, trying to be funny to keep a mood light.”

After a silence that landed like a thump, he drawled, “I’m definitely a top.” The firmness in his tone underscored his preference for dominating in bed.

Which caused the most inexplicable swoop in her stomach. Runnels of tingling intrigue radiated into her loins, much to her everlasting chagrin.

When she risked a glance up at him, she saw humor glinting in his eyes along with something speculative that noted the blush on her cheekbones.

Her heart swerved, and she shot her attention to the sea while her shoulders longed for the weight of his hands. Something wanton in her imagination pictured him drawing her arms behind her back by the elbows while he kissed the side of her neck and told her not to move.

While he held her. Claimed her.

Her scalp tingled in anticipation and she refused to look down, deeply aware her nipples were straining against the soft silk of her dress, swollen and tight and throbbing with lust.

“Perhaps...um...” Her voice rasped and her brain was wandering around drunk in the dark. “Something with role-play?” she suggested tautly.

“Leak a photo of me wearing pointy ears or dressed like one of those gladiators?” He thumbed back toward the path. “No, thanks.”

He would so rock a leather sword belt. She licked her lips. “Voyeurism?”

“Hidden cameras? Gross.”

“What if you, um, did something questionable in public?”

“Caught with my pants down? Like a flasher?”

“With someone.”

“Mmm.” He grimaced as he considered it. “It has potential, but it means compromising someone else, and naked photos are forever. Keep going.”

“You’re really hard to please.”

“You’ll get there,” he chided.

A fluttery excitement teased through her.

“Group sex?” she suggested, then realized that might be too reminiscent of his father.

Luca’s gaze held her own in a way that made her stumbling heart climb into her throat.

“I prefer to give one woman one hundred percent of my attention,” he stated. “And I refuse to compete for hers.”

So dominant.

Bam, bam, bam went her heart, hammering the base of her throat while the rest of her was

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