Royal Seduction

by Donna Clayton

Carrie was worried that Jason hadn’t called Richard anything except “him” and “he” since she’d told her son she intended to come to Portland in search of his father.

  “You can call him your dad, you know.”

  “Can I?” Jason asked. “Can we be sure how he’s going to react to that?”

  Jason had a point. She had no idea how Richard would react to the news that he had a son.

  “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s your father. Getting back to the original topic,” she said, “I have no idea if I’ll find him shooting pool. But I can’t think of any place else to look.”

  After a moment, her son said, “You never told me he liked to shoot pool.”

  The slight accusation edging Jason’s words roused feelings of guilt in Carrie. “There never really seemed a proper time to talk about—”

  “I know,” he said, gently cutting her off. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I just…I’m curious, you know?”

  It was completely natural for a young man to be curious about the father he’d never met. Why hadn’t Carrie opened up this subject before? Her guilt grew like the mammoth, inky Blob from that dreadful science-fiction movie.

  “When your father was upset,” she told her son, “he used to spend hours and hours playing pool. It was a relief valve for him, I guess.” Her voice softened as she remembered, “He was quite good, as I recall.”

  The line went quiet for quite some time, and then Jason asked, “You’re sure you want to go through with this? With finding him, I mean? You don’t have to, you know. You can always just go back to San Francisco and act as if this summer never happened.”

  “I can’t, honey. I’ve made a complete mess of things here for Richard. I have to fix it. At the very least, I have to try. I really need to explain things to him.”

  How she would do that was beyond her, though. The feelings raging through her were conflicting to the highest degree. Her anger over how they had parted waged a constant war with the sympathy she felt for her ex-husband, with the heartwarming memory of the good times they’d shared so many years ago.

  “And you’re really going to tell him about me?” Jason asked.

  Her son’s question expressed hope…and a terrific trepidation.

  “He deserves to know. And you deserve for him to know.”

  “What do you think he’ll say? What do you think he’ll do? Do you think he’ll want to—”

  Carrie stopped him, “Jason, I don’t have answers to any of those questions. I have to find him first.”

  After a moment of silence, he asked, “You’ll call me?”

  “You know I will.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, honey.”

  Carrie snapped the cell phone closed and slipped it into her purse. The lights illuminating the restaurant’s parking lot cast a yellow glow in her car’s interior. She’d worked long and hard tonight. All she wanted to do was go home, soak in a hot tub and then hit the hay.

  But her conscience wouldn’t let her.

  She stared down at the list of pool halls she’d copied out of the telephone book. The names of at least a dozen businesses were printed on the slip of paper she held. Visiting them all tonight would be impossible. But she could check out at least two of them. Maybe even three.

  If the other employees returned to work tomorrow, as planned, she might even be able to leave a little early.

  Carrie started the engine of her car and backed out of the parking space. She felt optimistic that she’d find Richard. But what would she say to him once she did?

  What is it you’re looking for?

  Riley’s words echoed through Catherine’s head as she lay on the bed, wide-awake and staring at the ceiling.

  Of course, she had known that the conversations they’d had, the clues and innuendoes she’d offered him, would have him guessing about her circumstances.

  I’ve tried not to ask a lot of questions.

  She slid her hand over her stomach, the silk of her nightgown cool against her palm, and she smiled. Riley was probably the nicest guy she’d ever met in her life. Of course, he was curious about how she came to be in Portland. It was only natural that he was wondering, yet he’d refrained from asking her questions.

  I understood that you’re trying to escape from something.

  Oh, but Riley had no idea just how badly she’d love to escape the fate that life had handed her. However, there was no escape. She couldn’t evade reality forever. She knew that. This vacation might offer a short reprieve. But walking down the aisle—to meet a man of her father’s choosing, a man she didn’t know and didn’t love—would be inevitable.

  So what was she looking for? Why had she gotten on that plane in Lextanya? Why had she flown thousands of miles across the ocean to Portland, Oregon, where she knew no one and no one knew her?

  She’d told herself she wanted a little naughty fun. So why was she so willing simply to spend time with Riley? Why was she so willing to let their relationship progress on its own?

  Catherine rolled over onto her side, plumped up the pillow and tried to get comfortable, but the discomfort she felt had little to do with the firmness of the mattress or the softness of the bed linens.

  Restlessly, she flopped over onto her back and stared again at the faint shadows on the smooth white ceiling.

  She’d told Riley she wanted to spend time with him because she liked him. And that was the honest truth of the matter.

  The truth was that she was desperate to be liked.

  That sounded damned pathetic to her.

  But as pathetic as it sounded, could that be the real reason she’d left Lextanya? So that she could find some friends, people who liked her, who enjoyed being around her simply because of the kind of person she was.

  Not because she was wealthy. Not because she was a princess. Not because her last name happened to be von Husden. Not because—

  The jangling of the bedside phone startled a gasp out of her.

  Reaching over, she picked up the receiver and offered a tentative greeting.

  “Cat, I’d like to know just how long this little escapade of yours is going to continue.”

  The sound of her father’s voice struck her mute.

  “It’s time for you to come home,” he said.

  Uttering the profane phrase that ricocheted in her brain would have been inexcusable. Her father might be stuffy and insufferable, but he was still her father and he deserved her respect.

  She was finally able to work her tongue and ask, “How did you find me?”

  His harsh chuckle grated across the phone line. “Don’t be silly, Cat. You used your credit card at a dress shop. Granted, there was only one purchase, but that was enough to have you tracked down. You should know you can’t hide from me. Not for long, anyway. You’re not smart enough to outwit me.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? She was quickly learning she wasn’t smart enough to outwit anyone, and she only got herself into trouble when she tried.

  Stifling a groan, Catherine thought back to when she might have slipped up. She’d been so careful to use cash to pay for everything. It must have been during her shopping excursion with Faye. The two of them had chattered like chipmunks all day long. She guessed she’d become preoccupied and had pulled out her card without thinking. Even now she couldn’t remember in which store she’d used it.

  “Father, I’ve truly been enjoying myself. I need more time. I want to savor a little more of this vacation.”

  “But your whole life has been a vacation.”

  She bristled at his words. She’d done some really good work with the needy children of Lextanya. Why couldn’t he recognize her contribution?

  “Come home,” he ordered.

  “I will not.”

  “Cat—”

  “At least, not yet.”

  Tension shimmered in the silence that followed.

  “Father, I know what is required of me. I understand everyt
hing that you expect. And I know I must return home. Eventually.”

  She feared that her voice quivered with the unexpected emotions that seemed to well up from nowhere—anxiety, despair, desperation. However, if her father detected what she was feeling, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  “You promised to come home. Your sister has been very patient and—”

  “Please.” She cut him off, her tone rising slightly. “Just a little more time.” She pressed her lips together, attempting to garner control. Her voice was small as she pleaded, “I’m not asking for much.” Catherine swallowed the tears threatening to spill. She wouldn’t cry. “Please, Father.”

  The stillness became nerve-racking, but she was determined not to say another word. She needed to win this small battle of wills. It wasn’t as if she were asking the world. She feared she sounded farcical. Yvonne was the one who usually resorted to melodrama. But Catherine felt desperate.

  “One week. Please give me one more week.”

  Her plea met with silence.

  Finally, her father said, “You may have till the weekend. I have big plans then. There will be a party on Saturday evening, honoring you and Étienne. Your engagement will be announced at Sunday’s formal luncheon. I’m looking at flight schedules now. There’s one leaving Portland at midnight Friday. A ticket will be waiting at the gate for you. Be on that plane, Cat.”

  The line went dead.

  With a trembling hand, Catherine replaced the receiver in its cradle. She exhaled, unaware that she’d even been holding her breath.

  She hated that her father could make her feel like a frightened six-year-old. His cowering Fat Cat. A terrified child who, desperately wanting her father’s love and attention, had silently suffered his taunts and teasing. Heckling that, like strong acid, had ultimately corroded away every semblance of her self-esteem.

  No wonder she’d wanted to slip out of her royal persona. She didn’t much like Cat von Husden. The oldest von Husden princess was weak and had no confidence whatsoever.

  Catherine Houston was another story altogether. She walked with her head held high. She’d made friends who really cared about her.

  She thought of Faye Lassen. They had become fast friends. Faye had even taken Catherine’s advice on wardrobe and makeup and hairstyle because Faye trusted Catherine’s sense of style.

  Helping Faye to break out of her shell made Catherine feel pretty damned good. Simply knowing Faye was her friend made her feel good, too.

  Then there was Riley.

  I’m just a regular Joe.

  His description of himself at dinner tonight whispered through her head.

  A regular Joe was just what she’d been looking for in a friend.

  Catherine slid down onto the mattress and pulled the sheet up to her chin.

  Who was she kidding? She wasn’t looking for a friend.

  She wanted a regular Joe to like her, yes. But she wanted much more from Riley than that.

  Images of Riley—with his dark good looks, intelligent smile and quick wit—passed through her thoughts. Then she thought of Étienne. The man her father wanted her to marry might be handsome, but no amount of striking features could make up for a deficient character.

  At twenty-six, she was looking down a long, loveless road if she respected her father’s wishes. Absently, her hand slid down the cool, cotton sheet, over the swell of her breast, coming to rest on her flat tummy.

  A loveless, passion-less road.

  Many a von Husden had traveled it. And most of them had survived. Many of them had even succeeded in finding some semblance of satisfaction in their lives. They had learned to be content with their lot.

  Could she get her mind-set to the place it needed to be in order to be content with her lot?

  She closed her eyes, surprised to feel a single hot tear roll from the corner and slip down her temple.

  I’m a regular Joe.

  Again, Riley’s words resonated in her head.

  She did want more from Riley than mere friendship. She had to force herself to ponder the idea, to grasp it, to twist and turn it over in her mind and truly examine the idea.

  She wanted Riley—a regular Joe who was ignorant of her true identity—to know her, to like her….

  To want her.

  Thursday found Catherine racing on the treadmill, sweat dampening her brow and underarms. She felt as though she’d been in a pressure cooker since taking that call from her father, and each sunrise only seemed to bring the strain of more steam.

  She was running out of time!

  The gym was turning out to be a great release valve for her. Physical exertion released endorphins that gave her a runner’s high. She felt good, at least for a little while. And the exercise helped to clear her mind so she could think better.

  Gazing across the workout room, Catherine spied some unusual activity between a trainer who was fairly new at the clinic and a male client who was lifting weights.

  The trainer, an attractive young woman, was acting as the man’s spotter. He was flat on his back as he struggled to extend the weight bar to a full press. What Catherine found so curious was that the trainer didn’t seem the least bit interested in her job as spotter. Instead, the woman was bending over the man, smoothing her hands over the muscles of his chest.

  Catherine stepped off the treadmill, automatically reaching for the towel that was draped over her shoulders. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead, noticing that several others in the gym were casting surreptitious glances at the couple across the room. Catherine stifled a grin at the trainer’s overtly sexual behavior. If the woman kept that up, men would be flocking to the Healthy Living Clinic to work out.

  Just then Faye pushed her way through the swinging door. She waved and smiled, making a beeline for Catherine.

  Catherine’s jaw dropped with surprise.

  Faye’s dark hair had been cut in a fresh style, and she wore another new outfit, a bright turquoise dress that looked quite striking on her trim figure. Faye had stopped wearing those white lab jackets. And there was something else about her, something Catherine couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “Hey, there,” Faye greeted.

  “Your glasses!” The words burst from Catherine’s throat. “You’re not wearing them.”

  Faye seemed all too pleased that Catherine had noticed. Her tone dropped to a conspiratorial level as she revealed, “Contacts. I saw my optometrist yesterday afternoon.”

  “Your eyes are so blue!” Catherine tried to keep her amazement under control, but it was next to impossible.

  Color flushed Faye’s cheeks, making her all the more stunning.

  “My goodness, woman!” Catherine exclaimed. “I thought you were beautiful with just a new outfit, but now that I can see your eyes, you’re Miss Universe material.”

  Faye had the good sense to laugh. “Cut that out. I am not. I’m too old to be a ‘Miss’ anything.”

  Catherine circled her, looking at her friend from all angles. “But you do have to admit—” she enlisted a sexy accent “—you look marvelous.”

  Again, Faye grinned. “I wouldn’t be a good judge of that, but I can tell you that I sure feel marvelous.”

  “If this doesn’t help get you noticed,” Catherine observed, “nothing will.”

  A grimace wrinkled Faye’s nose. “As I’ve already said, I’d like to be noticed for my skill as a doctor. And for all the work I continue to put into this place. But if my new look accomplishes the task,” she said with a shrug, “I’ll just have to be satisfied, won’t I?”

  The women shared a laugh.

  Faye said, “I came to ask you if we were still on for lunch tomorrow. I don’t want you leaving town without saying goodbye.”

  Catherine had told Faye right away that she would be returning home Friday night. “I wouldn’t miss it, Faye.”

  “Well, I have tons to do—”

  “Can I ask you a question? Do you know where Riley is?”

  “H
e’s attending a conference over at the hospital.”

  Disappointment rounded Catherine’s shoulders. “He mentioned that he had meetings, but…”

  Faye told her, “It’s a two-day event.”

  “Well, hell’s bells.” Frustration got the better of Catherine.

  Her friend’s low whistle had her lifting her gaze.

  “Someone’s got it bad.” Faye’s finely shaped eyebrows arched high.

  Across the room, the weight bar clattered loudly into its metal cradle. Several people squealed in surprise and others gave a startled jump, but collectively, all eyes turned in the direction of the racket.

  The female trainer had straddled the man lying on the weight bench, their kiss deep and obviously thorough.

  Catherine couldn’t stop her open grin.

  Faye gasped.

  A few titters and snickers echoed off the gym’s high ceiling.

  “Diane!” Faye’s tone was sharp.

  The young trainer’s head lifted. Her lips glistened and her eyes were glazed with desire. The man lying prone looked up, too. His expression seemed groggy, as if he’d just been jarred from a deep sleep and was unsure of where he was and what was going on.

  Catherine actually pressed her fingers against her mouth to keep from chuckling.

  “May I speak to you, Diane?” Faye said. When the woman didn’t immediately react, Faye stressed, “Now!”

  Diane actually blinked several times. Then she glanced down at the man she’d just kissed, and when her gaze swung back to Faye, her eyes were wide. She lifted her leg over the man, pressing her hand against his chest for balance.

  “Mr. Hollister,” Faye said, “you should probably come along, too.”

  The man shoved himself to a stand and followed on Diane’s heels.

  Faye said to Catherine, “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  “No problem.” Catherine hooked the towel around her neck. “I’m off to the shower. I’ll catch you in a bit.”

  Faye nodded, and Catherine trotted off down the hallway leading to the locker rooms.

  The latch felt hard and cold in Catherine’s grasp. She tossed her towel in the wide-mouthed laundry bin and then turned to pull her duffel bag from the locker. After only a moment, she heard Faye’s voice and realized that she’d brought Diane and Mr. Hollister down the hallway to talk. They must have been standing right outside the door of the women’s locker room.