She felt the slight tug where his fingers tangled in her hair. Barely, just barely, their legs brushed under the water. “And if I asked? Would you consider it then?”

He kept his hand on her hair, but her question distracted him. “What do you want, Brie?”

“Help. Between my father and Loubet, I know next to nothing about the status of the investigation. I’m being protected, Reeve. Both of them want to cocoon me, and I don’t like it.”

“So you want me to do some digging and fill you in?”

“I thought of doing it on my own, but, then, you have more experience. And …” She smiled at him then. “It isn’t possible for me to make a move without your being there in any case.”

“Found another use for me, Your Highness?”

With a brow lifted, she managed to look dignified while she was soaking wet. “It wasn’t meant to be an insult.”

“No, probably not.” He let her go. Perhaps it was time to use her and be used by her in a more active sense. “I’ll give it some thought.”

She decided it would be more strategic to retreat than advance. “I’ll have to be content with that.” In three smooth strokes she was back at the boat and pulling herself over the side. “Shall we try some of the wine and cold chicken Nanny packed for us?”

Nimbly he dropped onto the deck and stood a moment as the water drained from him. “Does Nanny always take on kitchen duty for you?”

“She likes to. We’re all still children to her.”

“Okay, then. No use letting the food go to waste.”

“Ah, practicality again.” She picked up a towel, rubbing it briefly over her hair before she tossed it aside again. “Well, then, come down into the cabin and help me. I heard that we have apple tarts, as well.” With water still beaded on her skin, she ducked down into the small cabin. “You seem very at home on a boat,” she commented when he joined her.

“I used to do a lot of sailing with my father.”

“Used to?” Brie drew the bottle of wine from the cooler and gave the label a nod of approval.

“There hasn’t been as much time for it the past few years.”

“But you’re close to him?”

After a quick look, Reeve found a corkscrew and took the bottle from her. “Yes, I’m close to him.”

“Is he like my father? I mean—” She heard the quiet pop of the cork and began to look for glasses. “Is he very dignified and brilliant?”

“Is that how you see your father?”

“I suppose.” She was frowning a bit as he poured the wine. “And kind, yes, but controlled.” She knew she had her father’s love, but his country and his power came first. “Men like that must be, after all. So are you.”

He grinned as he touched his glass to hers. “Dignified, brilliant or kind?”