by Carolyn Rae
Her pulse raced. It was like she was in fairyland, stepping out into an enchanted night.
Later, as they slid into chairs at a candlelit table, he pulled out a piece of paper. “I wrote down a poem for you.”
Surprised, in neat script she read, ‘How do I love thee, let me count the ways.’ “But that’s from Elizabeth Barrett Browning.” The candle flickered, smelling of apricot and honey.
“She wrote about love so much better than I can.” He pulled another piece of paper out and set it on the table.
Tricia laid her hand over his. “I don’t recognize this. Did you write it?”
He nodded. “I was thinking of you, and I couldn’t help myself. The words just flowed from my pen. It’s not very literary, but—well, I wanted to let you know how you affect me.”
She read:
“When I drink my coffee and you’re not there, I think of you.
When I ride my horse, and you’re not there, I miss you.
When I climb the mountain, and you’re not with me, I long for you.
When I climb in bed, and you’re not there, I regret not sharing it with you.
When I comb my hair, I wish yours was draped over my shoulder,
When you’re not with me, the sun doesn’t shine as bright.
She clasped his hand and brushed a tear from her eye. “That is so sweet. I love it.” Her heart beat faster. Was there really a chance for her?
He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed warm lips to the back of it, then kissed her palm. “I must tell you what my parents have in mind. They want me to marry an English lady. You met her—Lady Constantine. She is not really a princess, but a cousin of the king of England. Not in direct line to the throne, but royal blood all the same.”
Her heart sank. Now the candle flame smelled more like bitter almond. Instead of soft music, some raucous rock tune blared forth from the band. “Are you going to?”
“I’m under a lot of pressure to marry and produce an heir.”
She swallowed. She might be the one his heart beat in tune with, but duty must weigh heavy on his shoulders. Did she have the right to encourage him to ignore it?
He grinned. A lock of dark hair hung over his forehead. He looked endearing, like a boy ready to go fishing with a teenage girlfriend. Maybe tonight she could forget their circumstances and just enjoy his company.
She let him lead her onto the dance floor. She taught him the latest dance step and snuggled in his arms for the slow numbers. When he told her she was the best-looking woman in the place, she couldn’t help smiling.
The touch of his lips on her bare shoulders tantalized her, making her want to imagine him kissing her all over. Waves of delight coursed through her before she reminded herself this would never happen again.
But somehow, she couldn’t stop thinking of how wonderful it had felt to have his strong, but gentle hands molding her breasts, smoothing over her belly, and caressing her bottom again.
He looked into her eyes and smiled. “What are you thinking?”
She gulped and felt heat rise up her chest to her neck and her face. “Uh, I like dancing with you.” She couldn’t admit she’d been thinking about being naked with him.
He grinned. “I’m glad. What I’ve been thinking is how much I’d like you to come back with me for a visit. Isn’t there some holiday coming up so you could be gone for a week?”
“Well, Thanksgiving comes in November. We will have two days off.”
He squeezed her hand. “That is too long to wait. Just take a whole week off. We can fly out tomorrow and you can return on Sunday a week from then. I’ll call in the morning and make reservations.”
She pulled her hand away. “Wait a minute. I haven’t said yes, and even if I do decide to go, I have to ask my boss.”
“So, do you have his phone number? You would like to go—yes?”
His grin was so infectious she couldn’t deny she wanted to be with him if only for a week. Even the air would seem fresher and nicer in Cordillera if she were with him. “Yes, I have his number, but it’s late.”
“Call him. Ask if you can come by. Then ask him.”
“I can’t just barge in on him.”
“You won’t be barging in. You can tell him you want a week off at his doorway.”
She called, then set the phone down. “Got the answering machine. Maybe he’s out.”
A minute later her phone rang. It was Albert. “I’m so glad you called. I hope you’ve made a decision and that it’s yes.”
“Not yet. There’s something I want to ask you. Can I stop by for a moment?”
“Sure. Any time. Well, not in the wee hours. I do need to sleep sometimes.”
“We’ll be right over.”
“We?” he asked. She didn’t answer his question, but just hung up as if she hadn’t heard him.
Lawrence opened the door of his rented Mercedes for her, and then slid behind the wheel. One hand caressed the steering wheel as he cruised along the winding road to Albert’s house, and his other held hers, interlocking his fingers with hers. Again, she thought about how his hands had felt on her body.
Albert, wearing a smoking jacket, greeted them at the door. She introduced Lawrence to him, being sure to add his title. When they shook hands, Albert winced from the prince’s firm grip.
Albert frowned momentarily, then said, “In this country we don’t pander to royalty, something our forefathers felt strongly about.” He opened the door wider. “Won’t you come in? I can offer you a drink.”
Lawrence smiled. “No thanks. We won’t stay long. Tricia has something to ask you.”
Albert seemed apprehensive. As if sensing Lawrence was a threat, his face took on a stoic look. “Well, what is it?”
“Prince Lawrence has invited me to visit Cordillera again. I want to take the next week off.”
“But I wanted to get started on our new project.”
“Can’t that wait until I’m back? I’ll be rested and ready to tackle the study with enthusiasm.”
Albert frowned. “I suppose I could do without you for that long.”
Lawrence’s arm slid around her waist. Albert glowered. “And I suppose life in the states pales beside the opulence of palace life.”
“It’s like a trip to Walt Disney World, not a permanent change in lifestyle,” Tricia said.
She stole a glance at Lawrence. He was frowning.
Albert’s expression softened. “Then you’ll come back to the real world, ready to take on the interesting challenges I have in mind for us to work on?”
“0f course,” Tricia said. “That’s all I wanted to talk to you about. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“I plan to look over my notes for the study we’ll be working on. When you get back, I’ll be ready to start. And that other proposition I asked you about. You will think about that while you’re away, won’t you?” His eyes seemed to be pleading.
Tricia nodded. As they walked away, she tried to think how to let him down gently. After only spending this evening with Lawrence, she could never be satisfied with second best.
She sighed. Life without Lawrence might seem empty, but she’d have to immerse herself in Albert’s project and find her satisfaction in work.
But for now, she looked up at Lawrence. He looked puzzled. “What other proposition was he talking about?”
She met his gaze. Should she tell him about Albert’s proposal? Would it make any difference?
Chapter Thirty
Tricia slid into the passenger seat of Lawrence’s rented car in front of Albert’s modest brick house. He slid the key into the ignition, but didn’t start the car. He took hold of her hand. That felt warm and oh so comforting. She’d miss his touch like crazy. At least here they didn’t have to pretend to be cousins. She met his gaze.
His look was questioning. “What proposition is Professor Brooks speaking of?”
“He wants me to assist him on a major study he’s going to do.”
&n
bsp; Lawrence frowned. “Not that. He alluded to something else. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting you move in with him? What is it you call it, living together? That’s insulting. The least he could do would be to furnish you an apartment.”
Tricia shook her head. “Unfortunately, living together is quite common in the states.” She pulled her hand from his and frowned. “He didn’t do that. Nor did he ask me to become his mistress. However, he did ask me to marry him.”
Lawrence grasped her hand again. “You can’t marry him. He’s not good enough for you. You deserve better.” He started the car.
Tricia swallowed. “But all you’re offering is a week’s vacation.” If that made him mad, it was too bad. However, she did want to enjoy being with him one last time.
The prince squeezed her hand, then caressed it. “I can’t wait to take you back to Cordillera with me. We can go horseback riding and perhaps visit Capri again.”
He hadn’t replied to her comment, nor denied she was right. Was he avoiding the obvious, or hinting he was unavailable because he had to marry Lady Constantine?
“I’ll pick you up at eight Sunday morning. Our flight’s at eleven.”
She gasped. “You already made arrangements? What if I refused?”
“Surely, you won’t disappoint me by refusing a chance to be with me again? I can’t wait to show you more of Cordillera, take you dancing, feed you at our best restaurants.” His grin made her want to swat him, but she couldn’t really be mad. This was an invitation to die for, except she’d only live in fantasy land for a week. She’d deal with the heartbreak later.
When he dropped her at her place, his lips roved over her mouth and face, tickled her ear, and seared an invisible brand on her neck that would stay with her always. His warm brown eyed gaze melted her heart as his mouth lowered to hers again, tantalizing, teasing, and then searching—for what she wasn’t sure.
She kissed him back. All the feelings he stirred overwhelmed her, making her hot and ravenous. Unable to tear herself away, she wanted to imprint her touch on his skin so that no one else’s kiss would seem the same. That would certainly be true for her.
She thought of all the pretty ladies-in-waiting at the palace just dying to put themselves at his beck and call. What chance did she have of being more memorable? All she could hope for was that he’d think of her from time to time.
He looked bemused. That gave her hope. He walked her to her door. Next week would be glorious, even if he didn’t ask her to marry him. Which he probably wouldn’t.
After a soft kiss and a murmured, “I had better let you go while I still can,” he backed away a step. “There is one thing I have to ask of you. I’m not sure how you will take it.”
Puzzled, she met his gaze. “What is it?”
“To me you’d look beautiful no matter what color your hair is, but would you agree to change it somehow, so you’d look less like Allysa? You’re nothing like her, but people might comment on the resemblance and begin to wonder.”
“You mean dye my hair or cut it?”
He lifted a lock of hers and let it slide through his fingers. “How about getting your hair cut shorter and maybe some loose curls? My cousin always wears hers straight or in some kind of—what do you call it—a horse’s tail?”
“Pony tail.” She liked the idea of loose curls, but her hair didn’t take well to permanents. However, she only had to look good for one week. “That sounds okay, but there isn’t time.”
His smile lit up his face. “Oh, but there is. The concierge at the hotel where I’m staying found a beauty shop in the airport that will agree to take you at seven-thirty in the morning.”
“But what if she’s not finished with me when it’s time to check in?”
“Couldn’t you step over to the check-in counter with a scarf around your hair and do whatever is necessary? If anyone says anything, I’ll tell them you are an important visiting dignitary, and they had better keep quiet or cause a problem with foreign relationships.”
She had to laugh at that. “You think of everything. I always supposed you left stuff like that up to your servants.”
“Back in Cordillera I do, but here I want to arrange things on my own. I think I’ve managed rather well, don’t you agree?”
She nodded. He was certainly in control of things and probably brought plenty of money to make such arrangements. Excitement made her heart beat faster. She was not only going to visit Cordillera in style as his guest, but she could hold hands and kiss him openly unless there were reporters around.
He gave her one last kiss and strode to the car. With a wave and a smile, he slid behind the wheel.
He left her with unsatisfied longings for his touch, for his kisses and, shame on her, a crazy wish to spend the night with him. She couldn’t let that happen. It would be too devastating to let him make love to her and then leave.
Too excited to sleep, Tricia packed, wishing she had time to shop for something really glamorous. She packed pale blue silky pajamas and in impulse threw in a sheer red nightgown trimmed with lace. Tricia sighed. She couldn’t marry Albert. She might never be engaged. But she could slide between satin sheets and dream of Lawrence.
All too soon, it was time to leave. The stint in the airport beauty parlor went by without any problems. When Lawrence came to get her, the expression on his face was worth all the time she’d spent getting her hair washed, trimmed and rolled on curlers.
He grinned. “You were beautiful before, but now you look absolutely gorgeous. I can hardly wait until we’re alone, and I can run my hands through your hair and kiss you senseless.”
Her heart thrummed with anticipation. How wonderful it would be to kiss him without worrying about someone seeing them. She tried not to think how lonely life would be without him when the week was over.
Soon she was seated in first class beside Lawrence and sipping a mimosa. He ordered breakfast, complete with eggs benedict, pineapple chunks and strawberries with a creamy custard sauce that tasted of amoretto.
As he lifted a strawberry to his mouth, he leaned close and whispered. “These are sweet but they can’t match the sweetness of your lips.” Setting his fork down, he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips to press a kiss on the backs of her fingers.
That soft touch warmed her through and through. She wanted to throw herself into his arms right here on the plane. Instead she met his gaze, enthralled by the jewel tones gleaming in his brown eyes.
He sighed and let go of her hand. “I wish I could control my destiny as I see fit.”
“But you’re a prince. Don’t you have command of a whole raft of servants and soldiers to do your bidding?”
He nodded. “But what I must do is foreordained by my position. Even when I become king, I won’t be free to choose where I will live, what I fill my time with, or whom I marry. Cordillera’s future rests on my shoulders.”
Tricia leaned back in her seat. “That’s why I’m glad I live in the United States. Each citizen is free to choose his or her own path. We have laws, but most are for our own protection.” Loving her freedom to do just that, she almost felt sorry for him. “What about the woman you are supposed to marry? Won’t she object to my being your guest for a week?”
“I don’t care if she does. We’re not married, not even officially engaged.”
“If you were, would my visit create a scandal?”
He grinned. “Perhaps. But we shall have to be circumspect whenever we are likely to be observed.”
“I see.” He’d made no mention of what they might do when they were alone. She hoped she might have at least a few hours to enjoy his undivided attention and touch. Just the thought of his hands on her flesh set her heart beating faster. She’d have all she could do to resist sharing his bed. Perhaps there would be no chance of that with him being in the public eye all the time. But somehow, she felt sure he’d find a way for them to be alone.
And if the opportunity arose—just thinking about it set her pulse r
acing —she’d have to come up with reasons why she shouldn’t. She’d worry about that when and if it happened. Or maybe, she’d just give in—and have a wonderful memory to take back.
They had to transfer in Madrid. When their small plane landed in Cordillera, she looked out the window and saw a crowd had gathered—to welcome him she supposed. He insisted on holding her hand as they walked down the ramp. “Is this wise? she asked.
He grinned. “Don’t care if it is. I don’t want you out of my sight for the brief time I have you near.”
Flashbulbs popped, and a reporter edged up to the prince. “Do you have some kind of announcement to make? We thought you were going to announce your engagement to Lady Constantine. Is she no longer your intended?”
“No comment,” said Lawrence.
At the bottom of the ramp someone tapped her on the arm. “Is it true that you’re more than a friend to Prince Lawrence? Will you be sharing a bedroom with him at the hotel or perhaps a discreet little cottage on the edge of town?”
Tricia glared at him. She wanted to tell him, ‘None of your damn business,’ but knew something more diplomatic was in order. “I don’t know where I will be staying, perhaps in the palace, but we won’t—we’re not going to—” Heat flooded her chest, rising to her neck and face. Damn, what more could she say without sounding guilty?
Prince Lawrence took her hand and squeezed it. “Enough of your insinuations. She’s just a friend who’s visiting her family here from the United States. Now, if you good people will be kind enough to allow us to get some rest after our long flight, I would greatly appreciate it.”
The press retreated. Lawrence smiled and shook hands with people in the crowd. Some even smiled at Tricia. One lady said, “You’d be a sight better for him than that stuck-up Lady Constantine. He needs a real woman, not someone who doesn’t know much more than what fork to use.”
Tricia smiled. “Thank you. It’s good of you to say that, but I’m only staying for a week.”
