Royal Affair (13 page)

When he gazed down at her, she smiled tentatively, then sighed. “There's so much to do.”

“Katie told me everything is planned and under control. She'll take care of any snags. I'll help. You can direct.”

Her smile widened. “Mmm, that sounds like an offer I can't refuse.”

“Con artist,” he accused as he bent to her lips again.

“Ahem,” said a voice behind them.

“Emma!” Ivy was obviously pleased to see her friend. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” the other woman said as her husband pushed her into the room in a wheelchair. “This is just for fun. I don't really need it.” She indicated the chair.

“I insisted,” Morgan told them.

“Have you seen the news?” Emma asked. “You're a hero. So are Morgan and Everett. There's supposed to be the full story on the local station about now.”

Ivy looked confused. “About the kidnapping attempt?”

Max smiled at her surprise and flicked on the TV so they could catch the news. A picture of Ivy standing beside a man Max didn't know came on the screen as the reporter told of Ivy's recent fund-raising for Children's Connection, then used that information as a lead-in to the kidnapping incident.

“Morgan Davis, the director of the adoption agency, joined in the struggle to prevent the kidnapping,” the commentator explained.

There followed an interview with Morgan as he told of leaving his office to attend a luncheon meeting and seeing Ivy struggling with the two culprits.

“Everett Baker, an accountant for the agency, also aided in thwarting the attempt. Police are looking for a male and his female partner for questioning,” the reporter said.

Several shots of the hospital and adoption agency annex were shown. Police were seen questioning Morgan, Everett and the E.R. medic who had intervened on Ivy's and the baby's behalf.

The story ended with details of Morgan's work with a camp for older children who hadn't been adopted and Ivy's volunteer activities at Portland General and at Children's Connection.

“See?” Emma demanded. “You're both heroes.”

“Ivy took the brunt of it,” Morgan said, stepping forward to check out her bruised chin. He grinned and spoke to Max. “You should take a picture so your children can see her battle scars when you tell them the story.”

Max laughed as Ivy protested showing off her injuries.

From the hall came the sound of a bell.

“Visiting hours are over,” Emma told them. “I suppose we should get back to my room and let you rest.”

“I'm not sleepy,” Ivy declared. “Actually I'm hungry.”

“You ate all your dinner,” Max said.

Ivy nodded. “It was good. The hospital has a great chef directing the kitchen. But now I'm hungry for ice cream or a chocolate soda. A banana split would be nice.”

Emma started laughing. “Food cravings. I always wanted things like hot peppers.”

Max flashed Ivy an amused smile. “Okay, I'll go to the cafeteria and see what I can find.”

“There's a frozen yogurt machine,” Ivy told him, “and lots of toppings like fudge sauce and granola. And a cherry, if they have any.”

“I'd like that, too,” Emma said.

The men left the women and went in search of the treat. Upon returning, they pushed the other bed to the side and arranged chairs in a comfortable semicircle around Ivy. The two couples ate and discussed the case, then segued to the wedding plans.

“Where will you go for a honeymoon?” Emma asked.

Ivy looked at Max. It was plain she hadn't thought that far ahead.

He gave her his most reassuring smile. “We will return to Lantanya so the people of my country can meet their queen.”

“What does that mean?” Ivy asked worriedly.

“When our plane arrives, the citizens will line the
streets for a glimpse of you. I thought we would use a touring car with a clear Plexiglas roof.”

“Bulletproof?” Morgan asked, glancing from Max to Ivy and back.

“Yes.” Max waited for Ivy's comment. He realized he was concerned about her answer, afraid that she might back out as she realized the demands and expectations to be made of her.

Her throat moved as she swallowed, then her smile appeared. “Does that mean I can make faces and stick my tongue out at them and they can't hit me with rocks?” she asked innocently.

A vast relief flooded his heart. “Absolutely.”

“I won't do anything to embarrass you,” she promised, becoming serious, “not even when I'm feeling grouchy and out of sorts.”

Max realized he'd known that. “My mother practiced archery whenever she needed an outlet for frustration. She was a dead shot.”

Ivy thought it over. “Tennis and jogging work for me. Is there a trail I can use?”

“Yes, all around the inside perimeter of the castle walls. There are turrets with guards there, too. It's all rather medieval.”

The three Americans stared at Max.

He shrugged. “You get used to it.” But he was aware of the flicker of unease across Ivy's lovely countenance.

I
vy was released from the hospital on Sunday morning. That night, she slept in Max's arms, wonderfully secure and happy to be there. His good-night kisses were strictly platonic—very gentle, very caring, making her feel cherished and special to him.

She wondered if his care and gentleness would carry over into their marriage. After all, anyone could be nice for a couple of weeks, but marriage was for the long haul.

There can be no divorce,
he'd told her.

It came to her just before she fell asleep that she'd accepted what fate seemed to have decreed for them. No matter how the marriage turned out, their union would be forever. That was the way she wanted it.

On Monday Max drove her to the office at Crosby Systems to start clearing out her desk. Her second-in-command would take over her assigned duties, other than the Lantanya contract. She would continue as project manager for that.

A sense of satisfaction swept over her. She and Max had discussed her career. He had been the one to suggest that she continue with the educational system development. His approval of her continuing with the work had pleased her.

“How are you?” Trent asked, meeting her and Max in the hallway outside his office when they arrived.

“Sore but functional,” she told her big brother.

Yesterday she'd talked to their younger brother, Danny, for more than an hour, filling him in on all that was happening and telling him of the wedding.

She'd wondered if he would come, but hadn't pressed him for an answer when she'd extended an invitation. Danny had his own problems.

By noon Max and Chuck had carted her personal items to her car and to Chuck's rental vehicle. Ivy gave her plants to the department secretary and a decorative vase she'd splurged on to Katie. She realized as she and Max left she had no need to return to the company founded by her father.

Pausing by the car, she looked back at the building and the wide lawn and lovely landscaping leading to the entrance. It felt odd to leave and know she wouldn't return.

“Feeling nostalgic already?” Max asked.

She managed a smile. “I've been free to come and go here most of my life. At times Crosby Systems has felt more like home than anyplace I've ever lived. The lobby guard has been here over thirty years. I know him and his wife, his daughter, his grandchildren….”

A painful knot formed in her throat.

“You'll be leaving this far behind and going to a new place, one filled with strangers who will note your every word and action.” It was as if he continued her thoughts. “It will be difficult, more so at first, but the spotlight will never completely go away. If we fight, if our children get into trouble, it will be fodder for the paparazzi.”

Their eyes met over the roof of the car.

“But you will be there for me,” she said softly.

His glance never wavered. “Always.”

She settled in the familiar sedan. “What will I do with my car? And my furniture? Sell them,” she answered before he could speak. “Trent and Katie will help.”

“Your mother might do something,” Max suggested, cranking the engine, then heading for the freeway.

Silence fell between them.

Max chuckled dryly. “I suppose not.”

“We learned not to depend on her,” Ivy murmured. “If I asked her to help with the wedding, she would take over, but it would become
her
day, not ours.”

“Between Trent and Katie and you, all is taken care of, so there's no need to involve her.”

“That's what I thought,” Ivy agreed, relieved that he understood so completely. She was lost in introspection for a few minutes, then asked, “Max, is there a book of protocol that I can read so I'll have some idea of how to act in your country? Do I walk a couple of steps behind you the way Prince Philip does with Queen Elizabeth?”

“It's our country,” he corrected. “And you'll walk at my side as my queen.”

Ivy had to smile. He hadn't a clue how arrogantly sure of himself, and her, he had sounded. It came naturally to him, but she wasn't so sanguine.

“There are instructions,” he said. “They've been collected over the past five hundred years or so and put into a leather-bound set. The minister of state has assistants who can help if you have any questions on the exact protocol.”

Ivy gulped at the task ahead.

Max started laughing.

“You're teasing me,” she accused, not sure whether to be furious with him or grateful that he wasn't concerned.

“Because you're so cute when you're mad,” he said, then laughed when she huffed in indignation.

To her surprise, he drove to the country club. “Are we having lunch here?” she asked when he took her arm and escorted her inside to a private room.

The place was decorated with pots of white and golden mums with wide bands of white satin ribbons around them. Smiling faces observed her and Max with open interest from every table crowded into the large banquet room. A long table next to the far wall was laden with gaily wrapped packages that could only be bridal gifts.

Katie stood beside an empty chair at the head table. “Don't just stand there,” she ordered. “We're ready to start the shower.”

Ivy noticed her mother and stepmother were also present, but on opposite ends of the table.

“I'll see you later,” Max murmured while all Ivy's friends applauded and called out greetings. “Chuck and I are having lunch in the dining room here with your father and Trent. Keep a stiff upper lip,” he advised.

To her amazement, he lightly kissed her on the lips in front of everyone, then quickly left.

She placed a hand over her heart and gave her friends a mock frown. “I'm not sure I can take many more shocks this week,” she told them.

At Katie's beckoning gesture, she took the seat of honor and proceeded with the luncheon, then opened packages that contained both wedding and baby gifts. Three hours passed in a blur of marriage advice, laughter, ribbons, lovely gift paper and oohs and aahs.

Max returned for her as soon as she finished the cake and coffee that ended the festivities. Katie and
Toni shooed her away, assuring her they would take care of the gifts.

Sheila latched on to Max's arm and smiled prettily up at him. “I've been thinking,” she told him. “Ivy will need someone close to help her when you two return to Lantanya. As her mother, I'm the logical choice—”

“We will be secluded on our honeymoon for the first weeks,” Max interrupted with a kind smile. “Naturally we'll expect the family to attend the coronation and official wedding ceremonies. I hope you can reserve November for a visit with us.”

He deftly hooked an arm around Ivy and led her from the room before Sheila could do more than murmur “Of course” and look chagrined at being thwarted in her plans.

Behind her, Ivy heard Katie call to their mother and ask her help in packing up the gifts.

“You do that so well,” Ivy murmured to Max when he held her arm as she climbed into the car.

“Practice,” he said after tipping the valet and leaving the parking area. “Do you think the United States is the only place with persons who need to be put in their place?”

“I've never thought about it,” she admitted. “I had better observe and learn from you, I suppose.”

He braked at a stop sign and glanced at her. “I'll be considerate of your mother, my love, but I won't allow her or anyone to intrude into our private time.
After the wedding on Sunday, I intend to have you to myself as much as possible.” He touched her cheek. “I need that.” He paused. “I need you,” he said softly.

An odd sensation attacked Ivy's insides. It was as if something deep in the most secret place of her soul had been opened up and exposed to the light for the first time. She felt vulnerable but oddly happy.

“It's nice to be needed,” she told him.

What about loved?
some sly part of her inquired.

She was lost in thought the rest of the way to the hotel. In the suite, Max insisted she rest on the sofa when she refused to go to bed, while he and his security advisor spoke with the courier who'd been waiting for them to return. Chuck unlocked the handcuffs that secured the diplomatic bag to the man's wrist.

Closing her eyes, Ivy contemplated the changes one romantic, impulsive night could have on a person for all time. Would her one night be worth all the nights that would follow when she joined Max in a new life in a new place? Would there be loneliness? Regret?

She had to live through it to know.

 

Saturday morning dawned, but not brightly. A rosy mist surrounded the sunrise before the sun disappeared under a heavy layer of clouds driven in from the Pacific by a cold wind. Rain was predicted that afternoon and into the night.

Ivy, still in bed, sipped coffee and observed the swirl of a low ground fog while Max talked on the phone.

“Yeah. Ahh,” he said in understanding. “Good work, ol' man.” He laughed at something the other party said. “Good. That's great. Yes. Don't worry, I trust you and Mrs. Bartlett completely. Everything sounds perfect.”

Ivy glanced at him when he replaced the phone.

“That was Ned Bartlett, the valet I told you about.”

“I remember,” she said. “Uh, am I allowed to ask you any questions about conversations I overhear, such as now? Or is that against the rules?”

He rose and stretched leisurely. Ivy admired his masculine grace and the ripple of muscles in his naked chest and arms. Pajama bottoms covered the rest of his body. He'd been sleeping in them that week, giving her a chaste kiss each night and settling beside her in sleep. She'd missed their lovemaking.

A low chuckle drew her attention back to his face. Realizing she'd been staring at his torso, she smiled and murmured, “Caught me.”

He settled on the side of the bed and leaned close to claim her mouth in a heart-jarring kiss. “I like it when you look at me,” he admitted, “especially when you're lusting after my body.”

“I am not!” She had to compress her lips to keep from laughing after her indignant denial.

“Yes, you are. And yes, it's okay for you to ask me anything you like. With your active intelligence, you would go crazy if I tried to keep secrets. I won't do that to you. You'll be my mate in every way, shar
ing the good and the bad of running a small kingdom to the best of our ability.”

She caressed his chest, loving the warmth of his skin, the crisp sensation of the dark hairs under her fingers, the knowledge that she was free to touch him like this in their private moments.

“I've missed you—” She stopped abruptly, realizing she was giving away more of her inner thoughts than she wanted to admit, arrogant male that he was.

He pressed her hands to his chest. “I've missed our lovemaking, too, but I wanted to let you rest and recover completely from the trauma you suffered last week. Tomorrow will be the wedding, and then…” He leaned close. “Then you will be mine forever. I intend to make love to you every night for years and years.”

A thrill of anticipation shot through her.

“We will have a good marriage,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek near her ear. “Stay in bed as long as you want. We have the rehearsal dinner tonight, so it will be late before we get in, I suspect.”

She nodded, knowing he'd arranged the meal at the country club, which would take place after the rehearsal at her father and stepmother's home. When he headed for the bathroom, she propped the pillows a bit higher behind her, refilled her coffee cup and picked up the first section of the newspaper.

Hearing the shower come on, she considered joining him and seeing if she could tempt him into in
dulging their passion now. No, she decided. That wouldn't be right. Max had shown exemplary control all week. She would do the same.

And he was right. After tomorrow night, they would have the rest of their lives together and could make love every night. The thought brought such a rush of blood and whirling emotions to her head that she became dizzy.

Bringing herself firmly under control, she read of the troubles of the world, the global economy and a new outbreak of SARS cases in Hong Kong and China.

After Max had bathed, dressed and joined Chuck in the living room, Ivy rose and prepared for the day, too.

Forty minutes later, standing at the window and listening to Max and Chuck speak by phone to one of the ministers in Lantanya, she wondered if it was raining there, too. Here in Portland, the early-morning mist had turned into a steady rain that didn't bode well for the outdoor wedding she and Katie had planned so carefully.

She sighed. Well, best-laid plans and all that, as Robbie Burns had mentioned in a long-ago poem.

Hands touched her shoulders. “Are you worried about the wedding?” Max asked.

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she nodded. “I was wondering if we should change the ceremony to the church. But it may be too late for that,” she added doubtfully.

“I have ordered sunshine for tomorrow,” he told her, nuzzling her neck. “All will be well.”

“Even so, the ground will be wet.”

“Then we will put up a pavilion. Chuck has already checked with a company who rents equipment for weddings.”

Ivy's eyes opened wide. “I am constantly amazed at the efficiency of those around you.”

“They are paid to think of all contingencies.”

The phone rang again. Chuck gestured for Max to pick up the other receiver in the suite after he answered.

Ivy listened to the one-sided conversation with the minister of state of Lantanya. There was a question about the estates of the traitors who'd tried to take over the kingdom. If they confiscated the estates, should they exile the remaining family of the coup members?

“No,” Max said after a brief conversation with Chuck. “I won't punish the families for the fathers' mistakes.”