There was a pause before Paulo finally said, "I can't remember it."

She rolled over to face him with wide eyes. "What? You don't remember?" she asked.

"No," he said, "not at all. I drank so much that night I only remember bits and pieces after the reception and none of the part where we had sex."

Hearing that broke her heart. She couldn't believe her husband couldn't remember their first time together at all.

"Wow," she sighed. "I'm glad I was so memorable."

"It's not an insult to you. It's not like I can control what I remember when I've drank that much."

She understood now why he was acting so cold the next morning like nothing happened between them. He couldn't remember any of it.

They both laid there in silence for a minute before he asked, "What's wrong? Are you upset that I don't remember?"

"Yeah, I'm kind of freaking out about it," she said, biting into her bottom lip and feeling the tears burning at her eyes. "That night meant a lot to me," she said softly. "It was my first time."

"Your first time?" he asked, with his eyes widening as her words sunk in. "You had never been with a man before our wedding night?"

She shook her head and said, "No. I wasn't allowed to date because my Dad said I was going to have an arranged marriage anyway, so there was no point. He wanted to make sure I stayed a virgin because he said that's really important in a royal arranged marriage."

He looked into her eyes, studying her face and thinking. "Why didn't you tell me Eva?"

She hung her head and looked down at her hands. "I don't know. I guess I was embarrassed to admit it to you," she said, looking down at the floor with her face blushing, feeling self conscious.

He swallowed hard and ran a hand up through his hair. "So, had you ever done anything with a guy before that night?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I mean, I had kissed a guy, hugged, cuddled, held hands, but that was it. Nothing else."

"Wow," he said, letting out an exhale as he laid there. "I feel like such an asshole now."

There was silence between them for a few more seconds before he said softly, "I'm sorry you spent all those years saving yourself for someone special and then got stuck having to marry an asshole like me."

She gave him a weak smile and said, "Oh you're not that bad. For being stuck marrying a stranger my parents picked out, I think I got pretty lucky. It could've been a lot worse."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I've been horrible to you Eva. I'm sorry about what I said to my parents, about having to be drunk to sleep with you. It wasn't anything to do with you. I was really pissed off at them for forcing me into a marriage they knew I didn't want. They've been controlling everything I do my entire life and I had gotten to the point where I couldn't just sit there and take it anymore."

He took a deep breath in and let it out before saying, "I was in a really bad mood but I shouldn't have taken it out on you and said what I said. I'm sorry."

Hearing him apologize took her by surprise and almost brought a tear to her eye. "Thank you," she whispered. She laid there, closing her eyes and finally after what seemed like forever she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Eva woke up and looked around the room blinking her eyes as they adjusted to the light and it took a minute for her brain to process where she was. Then she saw the view of the ocean out of the french doors next to her bed and remembered that she was on her honeymoon with Paulo on a private island in the Seychelles and she smiled to herself.

She rolled over and found that his side of the bed was empty. She sat up and stretched her arms and slowly got up out of bed, putting on some fluffly slippers and a bathrobe over her nightgown before walking into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Then she made her way to the kitchen, where she didn't find Paulo but there was a fresh pot of coffee so she poured herself some before walking out onto the balcony. She sat there in a wooden deck chair sipping her coffee and admiring her view of the beautiful sandy white beach and crystal blue, sparkling ocean for a while, listening to the sea gulls and the crashing waves. It was really peaceful.

She spotted Paulo running off in the distance on the beach coming around the corner and stopping to do pushups and situps for a while. Eventually he made his way back up to the house, shirtless with sweat glistening off of his chest muscles as he panted.

"Hey," he said when he spotted her on the balcony.

"Hey," she said, trying to avoid looking at his body, so she looked back out at the ocean. He wanted to just be her friend right now so there was no sense in looking at something she couldn't have.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower," he said and she involuntarily turned and saw him. Seeing him without his shirt on gave her butterflies in her stomach no matter how much she tried not to.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I think that would be a good idea," she told him, turning away again.

After she heard the shower start up she went inside and picked out something to wear and decided on a pretty, thigh-length, yellow sundress that was tight and tied behind her neck. It was really comfortable and easy to move in and that dress always made her feel pretty because it fit so well and gave her the illusion of curves. She was tall and thin and had C-cup breasts but she had always wished she was a little more curvy.

It was hot on the island so she tied her long brown hair up into a messy bun and then walked into the kitchen and decided that she was going to make them some breakfast. Even though she had never had to do cleaning or laundry before, cooking was something that she always enjoyed and she had spent a lot of time with the chefs in their kitchen back at home watching and learning. The castle could get very boring and she had been a very curious child that was always looking for something new to learn.

Her favorite person to learn from was a French chef named Gustav who taught her so much about French baking and cooking, like how to make baguettes, croissants, eggs benedict, coq au vin, bouef bourguignon, crepes, tiramisu, macarons and croque en bouche among many other things.

She decided to make eggs benedict today because it was fast and when Paulo came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of board shorts and a loose tank top that showed his chest muscles she had just finished making the hollandaise sauce and dropped two eggs in boiling water for their poached eggs. Paulo walked over and looked down to see what she was doing. He dipped a finger in the Hollondaise sauce and tasted it and said, "Mmmm. You know what? I'm impressed by what a good cook you are. Every day you've made me breakfast it's been delicious."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" she asked, with a laugh.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Because most princesses can't."

"Well that just shows that you shouldn't stereotype people before you get to know them. I'm actually a really good cook."

She pulled the poached eggs out of the boiling water and felt it with a finger to see if it had the consistency inside of jello. It did so she pulled both eggs out and sat them on top of the toasted and buttered English muffin with ham and then she poured the Hollondaise sauce over it and added some fresh basil sprouts and salt and pepper.

She held out a plate to him and he said, "This looks amazing. Thank you," as he took the plate from her and sat at the kitchen bar on a stool.

"You're welcome. I hope you like it. I was really surprised when I realized we had all the ingredients here for it. They really stocked the fridge up well," she said, taking the stool next to him and sitting down to eat.

He took a bite and closed his eyes and said, "Mmmmmm. That's fantastic."

"Thank you," she said with a proud smile, taking a bite of her food.

She tried to focus on eating her breakfast and not on how good his cologne smelled or how smooth and strong and tan his arm and chest muscles looked in that loose tank top. She vividly remembered rubbing her hands over them when they made love on their wedding night.

The fact that he couldn't remember it at all really bothered her because that moment meant a lot to her.

After breakfast he asked, "Hey, do you feel like going surfing?"

"I don't know how to surf. I've never done it before."

"Seriously?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah seriously. Do you go a lot?"

"Yeah. Me and my sisters and Rosalie go surfing all the time."

Hearing him mention Rosalie's name was like rubbing salt in the wound even though he said he never liked her like that. She was in love with him so that was enough for Eva not to like her.

"Why don't you go get your swimsuit on and meet me down by the beach for a surfing lesson?" he asked.

"Ummm. Sure," she said hesitantly, getting up and heading into the bedroom as he headed outside. She put on her little brown bikini and then headed outside towards the beach barefoot with her toes squishing in the soft white sand and she could see the waves crashing and hear the sea gulls calling.

"You ready to learn how to surf?" she heard Paulo ask and she turned, shielding her eyes from the sun to see him approaching in just swim trunks with a surfboard under each arm.

In the sunlight he looked so gorgeous it made her heart start to beat faster, as she stood there like a statue with him approaching. With his broad shoulders and strong arms, chiseled jaw line, six pack abs, and ridiculously good looks he looked like he just stepped out of a beach photoshoot in a men's magazine and she suddenly forgot how to breathe as she swallowed hard.

He walked up and dropped the boards into the sand and she saw his eyes scan over her body for a second, making her cheeks flush as she looked away, burying her toes into the cold, squishy sand.

"It's a perfect day for surfing but for a beginner these waves will be rough. Are you a good swimmer?"

"I'm an excellent swimmer," she nodded. "No need to worry about that."

"Ok. Good. I need to teach you a few things before we get out there," he said. "The smaller surfboard is yours. Stand on it and I'll show you what to do," he instructed as he stood on the larger surfboard. "Just imitate what I do."

He demonstrated how to lay on the board on your stomach and paddle with your arms out to the wave and then how to hop to your feet really fast to catch the wave. She tried it a few times imitating how he was doing it.

"Close, but it's not quite right," he said, walking over and stepping onto the back of her board, standing behind her.

He put his hands on her waist and pushed down. "You need to crouch a little lower and bend your knees more."

With his hands on her waist he used his foot to nudge her feet apart and said, "put your feet farther apart and stand sideways on the board because it will be easier to balance. Put your arms out like this."

He slid his hands down her arms and raised them a little, with one arm pointing towards the front of the board. "Also you're too far up on the board," he said putting his hands around her waist and pulling her back towards him. "Your dominant foot goes on the middle of the board and your back foot about 2–3 feet away from the back of the board."

Feeling his body so close behind hers with his hands on her waist while she was wearing a bikini made her feel very aware of every little touch he made on her skin as he showed her how to stand. It made her skin tingle and the hairs on her arms stand up and she wanted him so bad.

Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore and she was about to throw herself at him and kiss him, he stepped off her board and said, "Ok. I think you're ready. Just make sure to keep your head up. Looking down will make you fall almost every time."

"Ok," she said, trying to get her heart rate to slow down so she could focus on surfing and not on his six pack. "I'll try," she nodded.