by Trish Morey
She grinned. “I hadn’t figured you for finger sandwiches,” she said.
“That shows how little you really know me,” he replied, and escorted her in.
Every table had a lace cloth. The tea was served in fragile cups and saucers and the trays of scones and little sandwiches were passed from table to table by girls in Victorian costumes. Music by Debussy, Liszt and Chopin filled the air. Kayla sighed. Just what they needed to calm the frantic mood of the day.
They sat, ordered and then smiled at each other across the table.
“We came here to talk,” she reminded him.
He made a face. “Yes.” He sighed. “What was the subject again?”
“The horse.”
“Ah, yes. The horse.” His eyes widened, full of innocence. “Okay, I did steal the horse.”
She gasped. “What? I thought you were going to convince me it was all a misunderstanding.”
“There was no misunderstanding. I stole him.” Reaching out, he took her hand in his. “There was a good reason.”
“Oh, Max,” she said, swept up in a sense of despair.
“Let me tell you how it came to be.”
She nodded, willing to hear him out. But tears were threatening and she knew he could tell. “Please,” she said shakily.
He nodded, then took his hand away from hers and stared at the wall. “While I was living in Mercuria, I rented a room from a family, the Minderts, who had once been quite wealthy but through one thing and another, had lost all their money. All they had left from the old days, besides their house and land, was a stable of three beautiful, award-winning palomino horses, and it took all Dirk Mindert’s efforts to make enough to keep them fed and well taken care of.”
His eyes were troubled as he remembered how it had been for these people. “The whole family had one goal—keep those horses. But while I was living there, they had to get rid of two of them. They just couldn’t keep up with expenses. They were about to lose their house and they couldn’t …?.” He shook his head as though the words just wouldn’t come for a moment.
“I would have tried to help them, but the Mercurian government wasn’t paying me at the time. So I didn’t have much in the way of resources.” He looked down at his hands. They were clenched into fists. Slowly, he made them relax.
“But we managed to get together enough money to keep the most important one, a beautiful horse named Belle. He belonged to the Minderts’ eight-year-old daughter, Mindy. She rode her every day. It was magical to watch the way she and that huge horse had a rapport between them. It would have been a crime to separate them.”
Kayla murmured something and reached for his hand again. His fingers curled around hers, but he didn’t seem to know it. He was wrapped up in his story.
“The public affairs minister and I had a falling out. Bottom line, he hated me. He tried to undercut me a couple of ways that just didn’t work out. And then, all of a sudden, he took Mindy’s horse away.” His voice deepened roughly. “He had some trumped-up national security reason. They were supposedly confiscating all horses in the sector.”
He turned to look into her eyes. “It was a bunch of bull. I went to him to try to get it rescinded. He called the guard, tried to have me arrested.” He shrugged. “I got away.” He gazed at the wall again and took a deep breath. “I found out where they were keeping Belle and I stole her back. I took her and I rode her right across the border.”
He looked back at Kayla as though to see how she was taking that. She looked right back. So far, she wished he hadn’t done it, but she didn’t see how it was going to be a capital offense. These things could be explained … couldn’t they? Maybe Pellea could authorize a payment?
But Max was still telling his story.
“I managed to have the Minderts meet me. They were about to lose their land anyway. It was time for them to go. I got them out of the country and on their way to Switzerland. They have family there.” He took a deep breath and looked at her. “And Mindy has her horse back.”
“Oh. I’m glad. But …” It did seem a large price to pay for a horse. She admired him for his instincts to help, but … “Max, you could go to prison for this.” Not only that, but he could also be giving up his place in the royal family.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I might.” He stared hard into her eyes, his own silver with passion. “But, Kayla, I don’t really care. There was something more important than that involved. And I would do it again. I would do it tomorrow.”
CHAPTER SIX
MAX’S hand tightened on Kayla’s. “You see, there’s more to this story. Mindy is a sweet and adorable girl. You would love her. But more than that, Mindy …” His voice choked a bit and he cleared his throat. “Mindy is blind, you see. Belle was her life companion, her only joy. You understand?” He searched her eyes, looking very serious.
She drew her breath in sharply, and then she nodded slowly. She did understand. She had to admit, Mindy’s blindness made all the difference. The fact that he had thrown away everything he had in order to help the child … she was touched by what he’d done. “Yes. I think so. I do understand.”
He nodded, as though satisfied with her answer and by what he could see in her eyes. “Good. It had to be done.”
She stared at him. Yes, it had to be done. And he’d done it. He was a man who went ahead and did things. He didn’t wait to see how the wind might blow. He made things happen. Suddenly, her heart filled with affection for him. So he stole a horse—so what!
“And you …?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I never went back. It was time for me to go anyway.”
She took a deep breath and sighed as though she’d just been through something important. “Wow. You were a hero.”
“No.” He shook his head and appeared pained. “It was my fault the horse was taken in the first place. I should have been more obsequious to the minister. I don’t ever seem to be able to learn that lesson.”
“And I don’t suppose you were much of a hero to the Mercurian regime, were you?”
He gave a short laugh. “Hardly.”
“So by the time you left, they already had a pretty deep grudge against you.”
“So it seems.”
Their tea was getting cold and the first round of sandwiches had arrived. Luckily, they were delicious and Kayla began to relax. It was wonderful what a little bit of tea and some yummy finger food could do. She was feeling so much better about everything.
He had reasons for taking the plane and reasons for stealing the horse. Surely he also had an explanation for the historical artifact. Whatever that was. But she wouldn’t bug him about that right now. All in good time.
She definitely wouldn’t let herself get caught up in so much worry about it any longer. She had work to do. She was supposed to mold him into a prince in a week. It was time to get going on that little job.
“We’ve got to get back to the essential things we’ve been tasked with,” she told him between bites of a watercress delectable. She gave him a significant look. “Prince lessons.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t balk. “I’m game,” he said with resignation. “What do I do next? Cut my hair in a pageboy?”
“Nothing so old-fashioned as that,” she assured him. “But I think we ought to make a list.” She pulled a notebook out of her huge purse. She’d brought it along just for this sort of thing.
“A list?” His look was wary.
“A list of all the things the modern nobleman must be.”
He gave her a crooked grin so endearing, she felt something move in her chest. He’d grinned at her with just that look before. She had a quick flashback to a day on the beach down on the Mediterranean, a day so bright and beautiful, it made her think her world had been enchanted. Max and Eddie were competing to see who could build the best sand castle. And she was just sitting to the side, watching them and laughing at their silly macho banter. The sea was turquoise blue, the sand was sparkling, the sun wa
s liquid gold.
A perfect day. A perfect time. A bittersweet sense of nostalgia swept through her and she had to hold back tears. Nothing would ever be so special again.
She pulled herself back into the now and Max was still making fun of her list.
“I’ll see your modern nobleman list,” he teased her. “And then we’ll raise the stakes and make a list of everything the non-noble should know before attempting to play the royal game. That one I might be able to shoot for.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry. This doesn’t mean you have to absorb everything all at once. It’s more of a wish list.” She wrote on the top of the page, The Attributes of the Perfect Prince.
“Perfect?” He groaned. “Might as well toss it right now.”
“Will you stop it?” she said, raising her pen to her cheek as she thought things over. “I know. We’ll start with physical appearance.”
He seemed surprised. “You don’t think I’ve got the looks for the job?”
She flashed him a satirical glance. “As far as the basics, you’ll do. But there’s more to it. There’s a certain way that a prince carries himself.”
He grinned. “Arrogance and disdain? I think I can handle that.”
She pretended to glare at him. “No. Confidence and competence mixed with a certain sense of approachability. Leadership and the common touch, all wrapped up in one handsome package.” She wrinkled her nose. “Do you understand what I mean?”
He looked back and then sighed. “I think I get it.”
“Good.” She nodded. “Work on that, please.”
“Oh, sure. No problem.”
“And then there is your manner of dress.”
He looked down at his casual shirt and Levi’s and eyed her questioningly.
Her look back was scathing and she shook her head. “I’ll get together some pictures to show you what you can do on that.”
“Spend money,” he said cynically.
“Yes. But carefully. I’ll teach you the tricks.”
“No kidding?” His smile was nothing if not provocative. “I didn’t know you had a few of those up your sleeve.”
She grinned back and tapped him with her pen. “Be ready for anything.”
“Oh, I will.”
“But right now,” she said, shifting gears and getting serious again, “I want to see how you walk.”
He blinked at her. “What?”
“Your walk. Is it royal enough? Does it need more backbone? Insouciance? Perhaps a bit more savoir faire?”
“Listen, I’ll do anything you want, but I’m not going French.”
She laughed. “You only wish you could be French. The French know how to walk.”
“I’ve never been put down for my walk before.”
“Let’s see it, then.”
He blinked at her. She couldn’t mean what she seemed to mean. Could she? “What?”
She gestured for him to stand. “Do it.”
His eyes were clouded. “Do what?”
She leaned toward him, holding back a laugh at his hesitancy. “Walk across the room. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Here? Now?” He looked around the room, his face worried.
“Yes, here and now.” She bit back a grin and decided it was time to take pity on him. “Oh, don’t worry. Something simple. Just a quick turn and back again.”
She almost laughed out loud at the look he gave her. It was obvious the whole concept was a huge embarrassment to him. Funny. Had he never been conscious of how he came across before?
“Just get up and walk over to the counter and pick up a tray of sweets and bring them back here. No one will know you’re on display.”
He took a deep breath, his look as close to a glare as she’d ever received from him. “All right,” he said grudgingly. “But be kind.”
Rising, he threw her an exasperated glance and started across the room. His walk was slow, strong and controlled and she knew right away there was nothing she could suggest to improve it. The set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the length of his stride—his manner of carrying himself might not be particularly royal, but it was about as good as it could get.
And then she noticed something odd. It was like a force field moving through the room. Every single woman, even those who couldn’t have possibly seen him get up from where they were sitting, was turning her head in his direction. What was he—magnetized? She watched, eyes wide and hand over her mouth, as he picked up the tray and started back. They were all staring.
And it wasn’t that he was so handsome. There were other handsome men in the room. There was more to it than that. There was a sense about him—a little bit of danger, a little bit of bravado and a lot of something else. She bit her lip, trying to analyze just what it was. Those gorgeous eyes seemed to say he knew things other people didn’t—secret things about life and love. And whatever those secret things were, they seemed to draw the attention of every female imagination in the place.
“Wow,” she breathed as he sat down again.
He lifted a dark eyebrow sardonically. “I was that good, was I?”
She rolled her eyes. “No,” she told him briskly, not willing to let him know the power he had, just in case he wasn’t sure of it yet. “I was just thinking what a lot of work we have ahead of us.”
He winced and looked rebellious. “I can save everybody the trouble and forget the whole thing,” he offered, only half joking. “If even the way I walk isn’t good enough …”
“Isn’t good enough,” she echoed weakly, shaking her head. It was no use. He might as well know the truth. “Someone should call out the paramedics,” she whispered to him wryly, leaning close so as not to be overheard. “Half the women in here are about to swoon right off their chairs after watching you walk across the room.”
He eyed her skeptically, a cloudy, slightly bewildered expression in his eyes. Then he spoke with such honesty, she was taken aback. “Kayla, come on. Don’t mess with my self-confidence like that. I’m feeling shaky enough about this whole royal thing. I don’t need you, of all people, to be mocking me.”
She recoiled in surprise. She hadn’t meant to do that. She hadn’t thought anything could ruffle his famously appealing feathers. Evidently, he wasn’t quite as cocky as he seemed. To think that he had never noticed the effect he had on women was a revelation.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m just as new at this as you are. I was trying to stick to a light tone and I guess I went a little too far.” Reaching across the table, she took his hand in hers and leaned forward, looking into his eyes earnestly. “Max, you’ve got a great walk. Manly and noble and full of confidence. At least, that’s the way it comes across and that is what counts. You were born to be a prince, no matter how you want to fight it. It’s in your blood.”
He squeezed her hand and didn’t answer, but his eyes were smiling.
“But we aren’t finished,” she added quickly. “There are a lot of superficial things you need to learn. We still have a long way to go.”
He nodded, agreeing with her. “‘And miles to go before we sleep,’” he said softly.
She gasped and smiled. “A literary quote. Very good. Knowing good poetry is a real plus in a prince.”
“Eddie taught me that one.” His eyes clouded. “Too bad it wasn’t Eddie who got the chance to be a prince. He would have done a bang-up job of it, wouldn’t he?”
As she watched him, something caught in her heart. “Max, Eddie was great. I miss him constantly. It just kills me that he had to die. But …” And here was the hard part. It was true, but hard to say. “Max, he was no better a person than you are.”
Max winced as though she’d slapped him. “Don’t say that. Of course he was.”
“No.” She shook her head. “He wasn’t perfect. He was a man, just like you are. He had his good days and his bad ones.” She tried to smile. “He could be darn grumpy when the weather didn’t suit him. You remember.”
A slow grin erased Max’s frown. “I remember.”
Their gazes met and held. Max began to lean closer, his eyes filling with smoky memories.
“Kayla,” he began huskily.
But he never got any further. A shriek filled the room, a sound like a fire engine coming through, and they both jumped back, startled.
“Oh, no,” Kayla said as she leaped to her feet and whirled. And just in time. A child who could barely toddle was racing toward her as fast as his chubby little legs could take him.
“Teddy!”
He threw himself at her, practically flying through the air, and she caught him and pulled him up into her arms, half laughing, half scolding. “Teddy, what are you doing here?”
“I am so sorry,” Caroline said, rushing in behind him with her own little boy in her arms. “We saw you through the glass. And once he knew his mom was in here, there was no stopping him. He climbed right out of the stroller!”
Holding Teddy in her arms was like being close to heaven and Kayla always reveled in it. But there was another emotion lurking. Guilt. Leaving her baby with someone else was something she had to do, but the guilt never completely left her, no matter how busy and involved she was at work. She held him tightly and whispered soothing words against his adorable head, and he whimpered and pressed in close. And the guilt welled up inside her.
She looked up, realizing there were other issues that had to be dealt with. Her sister was smiling at Max, but she hadn’t told her anything about him and she obviously had no idea who he was.
“Caroline, this is an old friend from back in my Trialta days. Max Arragen. He … he and Eddie were really close. They flew together …?.”
“Nice to meet you.” Caroline frowned as she held out her hand for his. “Wait. Max Arragen? Aren’t you …?”
He gave her one of his devastating self-deprecating smiles. “The new prince. Yes.”
Caroline’s eyes lit up. “Congratulations,” she said, glancing at Kayla. “I had no idea. Wow. You must be really excited with all this hoopla.”
“Oh, yeah. Something like that anyway.”
“I feel like I should do a little curtsy or something.”
