Crowns & Courtships Compilation Volume 1
Page 59
The bread. She stuck the pan in the oven and breathed a sigh of relief. It was all in.
She leaned against the counter and opened Instagram. Scrolling through the pictures made her smile. One of them sent her to Pinterest. There she scrolled through a board of the best dressed royals of the summer.
A twinge hit her every time she saw a baby bump. On her sister. On Queen Christiana. The Duchess of Cambridge, though she wasn’t showing yet. Princess Sofia of Sweden. Princess Madeline of Sweden wasn’t showing yet either. Esther’s brother still hadn’t made the announcement yet, but when a picture of him and Anabelle appeared in the list, Esther knew she was pregnant at the time.
The screen blurred as tears blocked her vision.
At least they’d never made the announcement. No one would know she’d lost a child.
“Esther!”
She turned to see an annoyed Darius waving a towel in front of her. “Sorry.”
“I was calling your name. Is something burning?”
Esther let her phone drop to the counter as she gasped when the smell hit her. “What is it?”
The noodles were still boiling away, though there wasn’t much water left. The bread? She yanked open the oven. Black.
“I got it.” Darius used an oven mitt to pull the pan out. He set it on another one on the counter then lifted the lid of the pot with the meatballs.
She could smell it there, too.
The tears spilled over.
The easiest dinner on the planet, and she’d managed to ruin it.
10
Twisting the knobs, Darius turned off both of the burners then gathered his wife in his arms as she cried.
“It’s all right, love,” he whispered.
“No, it’s not.” The words were muffled by his chest.
“I know.”
The smell was almost too much. Still holding her close, he moved into the living room. He took a seat on the sofa, pulling her down next to him.
When her tears seemed spent, he broached the subject. “What happened?”
“I got sidetracked. I guess I didn’t set a timer.”
“What sidetracked you?”
She sniffled. “A Pinterest board with the best dressed royals for this summer.”
He didn’t understand women. “And you weren’t on it because no one saw you anywhere?”
“No.” Esther snuggled closer to him. “It was the baby bumps. There are so many of them this year.”
“And there should be one more.”
She nodded against him. “And then I ruined dinner.”
“I think it was what they call a successful failure.” Darius kissed her head.
“What’s that?”
“There was one small thing that went wrong and ruined everything. It wasn’t some fatal flaw. It was a lack of a timer. Now you know. When you try again, you won’t forget. This time didn’t work, but it’s not as bad as you think.”
“It’s still not edible.”
“Well, no. But that’s what restaurants are for.” An idea occurred to him. “Why don’t we go out? Instead of pizza, why don’t we get dressed up and go someplace nice?” Jonathan had mentioned one of the nicest restaurants in the area. Darius would see if he could help them get reservations. “I’ll put on a suit. You can put on a nice dress. Probably not as nice as some of the ones you were looking at, but nicer than what you usually wear, and we’ll go out for dinner.”
Esther seemed to be thinking. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Go upstairs and start getting ready. I’ll do something with this down here.” And see if he could get those reservations.
Esther headed for their room. Darius texted Jonathan. Jonathan texted back a few minutes later that it was all set.
Darius went into the kitchen and poured the noodles into the sink and rinsed them into the drain. He dumped the sauce and meatballs on top of the noodles. The bottom of the pan and one side of most of the meatballs were black.
Water started to build up in the sink. Wasn’t there a way to fix that? He flipped a switch on the wall. It turned on a light. He flipped the one next to it. A whirring, grinding sound filled the air, and the water in the sink lowered. Darius rinsed all of it into the drain. The bread went into the trash.
King Edward would be proud of them. Of Esther for almost succeeding and Darius for cleaning up, though he knew it wasn’t quite done.
Back in their room, an envelope on the dresser caught his eye. He grinned when he saw the contents. His driver’s license. He could drive his wife to dinner and have security stay in the other vehicle.
The water running told him Esther was taking a quick shower. He found a suit in the closet and dressed in their room so she could have the bathroom and closet to herself. As he tied the knot in his necktie, she emerged from the bathroom.
He let out a low whistle. “You look amazing.”
She half-glared at him. “I’m not even ready. I need to do my makeup. I don’t know what shoes I’m going to wear.”
“I still think you look fabulous.”
“Thanks.”
With his tie in place, Darius sat on one of the chairs and watched her dig through her bag then walk back to the bathroom. Her skirt swished as she moved, and Darius had to force his eyes higher, past the skin exposed in an opening in the back of the dress, to where her hair swung in a ponytail.
Maybe someday he’d know his wife would be okay with him appreciating the view, but that day wasn’t here yet. He did finally understand the term “little black dress” though.
“Our reservations are in an hour,” he called to her. “Jonathan helped me get them. We need to leave in about thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be ready long before then. Where are we going?”
“Savarino’s. It’s an Italian restaurant between Serenity Landing and Springfield.” They had a dance floor. He was looking forward to that. Like everyone in his family, he’d been taught to dance from a young age, but he’d never danced with someone who meant something to him.
He played on his phone until she walked back out, and he whistled again. Now her hair hung in waves around her shoulders. The dress still fit like it was made for her - and it might have been. Black tights or something encased her legs and led to black heels that made her legs look longer than usual.
“Ready?” she asked as she put something in a small purse.
“Yep.” Darius stood and put his suit jacket on.
Esther stopped right in front of him. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.” She tucked her bag under her arm then reached up to straighten his tie. “Thank you for taking me out.”
Darius slid his hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “It’s my pleasure.” His eyes focused on her lips. “I’d really like to kiss you, but I’d probably mess up your lipstick.” He settled for pressing his lips to her forehead.
“Later,” she promised. “You can kiss me later.”
His arm tightened around her waist. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Her hand rested on his chest. “If I don’t hold you to it first.”
He chuckled. “I have a feeling we could miss our reservations if we’re not careful, so I’m going to take a step back and then drive my wife to a nice restaurant for dinner.”
She smiled at him, a smile he liked to think she saved just for him. “I think that sounds perfect.”
Esther wouldn’t let Darius hold her hand as he drove toward the restaurant. He was far too new a driver to be distracted, and she told him so.
He winked at her, said her legs were enough of a distraction already, then backed the car out of the garage.
She didn’t know what to do with that. She supposed her husband openly flirting with her was a good thing, but it still seemed odd and awkward.
The moment in their room hadn’t.
Darius was right about that. If he’d kissed her then, they never would have made their reservations.
“Where did you hear about th
is place?” Her stomach curled in knots. Between the look he’d given her, and the fact this was basically his first time driving, she wasn’t certain a conversation was the best plan, but she couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“Jonathan mentioned it when I talked with him the other day. He’s taking his wife for some occasion this weekend. I texted him earlier, and he said he’d get us reservations. It shouldn’t have been too difficult on a Thursday, but I figured it would be easier just to get his help.”
“I wouldn’t want to displace someone else from their dinner.”
“Places like this always have a contingency plan if someone more important shows up. Jonathan Langley-Cranston qualifies as important. A phone call from him that someone else important wants in will get results.”
“And we’re important.” These days she didn’t much feel like it. Maybe that was part of growing up. As a teenager, she would have thrown her weight as a Princess of San Majoria around. Living in Serenity Landing for the last six months, where no one knew who she was, where she’d spent a little bit of time volunteering when she wasn’t wallowing, had changed her perspective some.
“We’re royalty, Esther.” His voice was softer than she would have expected. “Your father is a king. So is my brother. My father was before his death.”
“But not here. In San Majoria, maybe. In Eyjania, the Quatremaine name certainly opens doors, but here?”
He shrugged as he slowed to a stop at a light. “Yes, here. We have no power or even influence politically, but yeah, we qualify as important to restaurants. If word gets out that royalty eats at a particular place, what happens?”
“They use the publicity and parlay it into increased business.”
“And that makes us qualify as important.”
All things Esther understood even if she didn’t always agree.
The rest of the ride was silent, and a few minutes later, Darius pulled into a parking lot. The valet opened the door for Esther to climb out. Darius reached her side and offered her his arm. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked through the opened door.
The maître d’ waited for them.
“Darius Quatremaine,” he told the man.
“Ah! Mr. Langley-Cranston’s friend. Any friend of his is a friend of ours. This way please.”
As soon as they were seated, a waitress took their drink orders. Esther wanted a glass of wine, but Darius didn’t order one, likely because he was driving. She wasn’t sure she should, not until she knew for certain if she was pregnant again. They looked over the menu, discussing the various options, and placed their order when the waitress returned.
They talked about everything and nothing until their dinner arrived. Conversation stalled somewhat as they ate.
“This is much better than my spaghetti would have been,” she told him.
“I don’t know about that.”
She raised a brow at him.
He laughed. “Okay, you’re probably right, but it would have been delicious nonetheless.”
“It would have been edible. Delicious might be a bit much.”
When they finished, Darius tilted his head to the side. “Would you like to dance?”
“I’d like that.”
In just a few seconds, they were on the dance floor. He held her close, his hand splayed along the small of her back and his thumb brushing against the skin showing through the keyhole in the back of her dress.
“This is what I dreamed of,” he whispered.
“What?”
“After Sargasso. We danced in your room, but nothing like this. I wanted to take you out and dance with you.” He curled their joined hands into his chest. “I wondered how I’d ever find someone else to marry that I could actually be happy with. No one else would ever compare with Star. I had no idea how to find you though, or I would have.”
Did he really mean that? “You couldn’t use your family connections? Private investigator?”
“I thought about it, believe me, but no one knew I was in Sargasso. Everyone except my security team thought I was in Ravenzario.”
“Why did you lie?”
“I wanted to be somewhere where no one knew who I was. I checked in under the name of one of my security team. Planned to do nothing but laze around, maybe read some books, watch some movies, take some naps.”
“So why were you at the pool that day?” Pool was the correct term but a bit of a misnomer. It was in a protected, sheltered semi-indoor area and heated, gently sloped on either end to a flat area no more than a meter deep.
“Restless, I guess. The ocean was a bit too windy to surf, and I couldn’t find anything I wanted to watch or read. I decided to swim a few laps.”
Esther grinned. “That pool wasn’t lap worthy.”
“Well, no, but it was the best option.” His thumb made slow circles on the skin of her back. “Instead, I saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and had the chance to get to know her better.”
Which had led to her inviting him to her room for dinner, a truly innocent suggestion. Then he’d asked her to dance, but it wasn’t a dance like this one. They had much more fun showing off their ballroom skills in a space not nearly big enough.
But then he’d kissed her.
And she’d kissed him back.
Kisses that grew more intense.
Hands that wandered.
Then wandered more.
Then kisses became even more.
Then more.
Then everything.
Then the baby.
Esther wasn’t sure when they stopped moving on Savarino’s dance floor, but Darius’s voice was husky in her ear.
“Why don’t we get out of here? Let me take you home.”
11
What happened?
One minute they were dancing and the next, Darius knew she was close to tears.
The ride home was quieter than the ride there had been. When he pulled into the garage, Esther didn’t move. He opened her door and held out a hand. Hers slid into it, and she let him lead her inside, up to their room.
With the door secured behind them, he took her in his arms.
“What is it?” he whispered. “What happened?”
“It made me remember that night.”
He didn’t need to ask which one.
“And then the baby.”
Darius tightened his hold on her.
“And wondering if I should have worn a different swimsuit that day.”
Knowing her as he did now, the memory of her in a bikini seemed a bit incongruous.
“No one was ever at the pool, and I was feeling a bit daring, but if I’d worn one of my other ones...”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he whispered against her hair.
“How can you be sure?”
“I just am. Even if you’d worn long sleeves and a denim jumper, I would have thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
That made her laugh and look up. “Really?”
He winced. “Yes, but I might have been less likely to notice. Once I did, there’s no question. Except you would have been at a swimming pool wearing something decidedly un-swimming-pool-ish. That would have caught my attention.”
She laughed, just a little.
“It wasn’t you, love. Or your swimsuit. Or anything else. It was us, falling in love, giving into temptation like thousands or millions of other people do every day in every situation you can think of. Whether it’s cheating on a test or speeding or stealing or being intimate with someone who isn’t your spouse, it happens. We shouldn’t have. We both know that, but it happened. We have to ask forgiveness of our Creator, of each other, and find a way to move on together.”
He tilted her chin up until he could look into her eyes. “Forgive me, Esther, please. Forgive me for not being stronger, for letting myself get carried away, for not stopping things when I knew I should have. For letting them happen again and again over those days, because one sin d
oesn’t mean there has to be more sins.”
She sniffled, but held his gaze. “I forgive you, Dare. If you can forgive me for all the same things.”
“Already done,” he promised. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on it a few times. Music began to play. “Dance with me, Star?”
She nodded, and he pulled her even closer than he had at Savarino’s. They moved as one to the music, his hand on her lower back anchoring them together.
Two songs later, he kissed her, softly a few times, then continued to dance. Then she kissed him. Softly.
Each time the kisses lingered a little longer, grew a little more intense.
The dancing stopped.
Darius cradled Esther’s face in his hands, then let his fingers tunnel through her hair. His pinky brushed against the clasp that held the top of her dress together.
The still rational part of his mind hesitated until her hands slid around his waist inside the suit coat he still wore, pulling him closer. His fingers undid the clasp at the nape of her neck only to find another one below it. Then three more.
As he finished the last one, Esther’s hands slid up his chest to push his jacket off his shoulders.
That he was falling in love with her was the last conscious thought he had for quite some time.
When later he slept, it was with his body curled around his wife, his arm holding her close.
Neither one of them had to be anywhere on Friday so alarms were turned off. He came slowly to wakefulness to realize he slept alone.
“Good morning.”
Darius looked over to see Esther curled in one of the chairs sipping her cup of coffee. He pushed up until he was sitting against the headboard. “Good morning. What time is it?”
“Almost eight. You didn’t sleep too late. I didn’t even get up until about twenty minutes ago.”
Much later than she usually did. “You could have slept longer,” he pointed out.
She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I’d already laid there for at least half an hour because I didn’t want to bother you.”