by Day Leclaire
Most of the time she could ignore their presence and dart from store to store, trying on clothes or jewelry or shoes, or wandering through the bookstores or among the craft stalls. Just as exhaustion set in, dinner miraculously appeared at a small table inside a trendy café. They dined by candlelight, soft music playing in the background. When they’d finished, Lander escorted her back to the car she’d arrived in, which, to her astonishment, delivered her home again.
The next night Lander arranged for a private showing at a movie theater. Another evening found them wandering through a wild animal park on the outskirts of the city. He took her ice skating. Swimming. He even arranged for a night at a spa. But not once did he take her back to the apartment and make love to her as she longed for him to do.
He must have been aware of her confusion, just as he must have been aware of how much she wanted to be in his arms again. She didn’t understand it. As impossible as it seemed, it was almost as though he were…wooing her. But that didn’t make a bit of sense.
On the tenth night, her car pulled into another underground garage. Once again she thought perhaps it was the apartment complex, and hope flared. But when she stepped from the vehicle, one of Lander’s private bodyguards whisked her along a set of unfamiliar corridors dotted with security. He paused before a heavy steel door, guarded by his hulking counterpart.
Opening the door, he gestured for her to enter. “Please go on through, Ms. Rose,” he said. “Tell His Highness that I’m here if he needs anything.”
Before she could ask the guard where she was, the door clanged shut behind her. Subdued lighting suffused the room, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust. Once they had, she was astonished to discover she stood in a museum.
“It’s one of my favorite places to come.” Lander spoke from the shadows across the room. He flicked on a light switch, flooding the room with a brighter glow. “Do you like museums?”
“Yes,” she confessed. “Very much.”
“This one has it all. Art. History. Science.”
The hours flowed one into the next as he led her through each wing. As they explored the section detailing Verdonia’s rich history, Lander brought it to life with stories that gave added depth and color to each exhibit. Later, they ate picnic-style on the floor in front of a Monet and a Renoir with a Rodin sculpture guarding them from the corner. And they talked, endlessly.
The evening concluded in a small secure room housing the crown jewels of Verdonia. “The ones not in use,” Lander teased.
To her astonishment, he opened the cases and lifted out various pieces for her to try on. “I’m afraid to touch them,” she told him. “I half expect your guards to burst in here and arrest me.”
“I have to admit, you’re the first woman outside the royals who’s ever had the opportunity to do this.” He fastened a necklace dripping with diamonds and amethysts around her neck. “What do you think?”
Mirrors lined the back of each display case and she stood in front of one to look, watching the gems dance and glitter with her every breath. “It’s stunning.”
“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother, along with these.” He lifted out a tiara and settled it in her curls. Then he slipped a ring on her finger, the central stone a huge amethyst, the purplish-blue depths flashing with red fire. “This ring’s called Soul Mate, which is actually what the Verdonia Royal symbolizes.”
“Verdonia Royal? Is that what the amethyst is called?”
“That particular color. There’s not another shade quite like it anywhere else in the world. We also have pink stones which are far more common, but popular, nonetheless.”
“A Rose de France? I’ve heard of them.”
He glared at her in mock anger. “Please. Celestia Blush.”
She swept him a deep, graceful courtesy. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness. I misspoke. I swear it won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.”
Rising, she studied the circle of Blushes that surrounded the Royal. “Does the Blush have a special meaning, too?”
Lander nodded. “It signifies the sealing of a contract. When it’s set in a circle like this it denotes a binding agreement, in this case a marriage.”
“It’s beautiful.” She glanced at him hesitantly. “You must miss your mother very much.”
“She died when I was very young, Merrick little more than a baby. My memories are more…impressions. Feelings of warmth and comfort.”
His expression remained open, so she risked another question. “You said it took a while to adjust to your stepsister’s advent in your life. What about your stepmother’s?”
“She’s an impressive lady.” An odd smile curved his mouth. “Did you know she designed her own engagement ring?”
“Really? What does it look like?”
“There’s a replica of it over here.”
She joined him in front of a display case and stared at the ring. It was quite different from the one belonging to Lander’s mother. Three gem stones—a diamond, an emerald and a ruby—made up the central portion of the ring, the trio surrounded by a circle of alternating Verdonia Royals and sapphires.
“It means something, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” A poignant quality had crept into his voice. “And once Merrick and I figured it out, we became a family.”
“Birthstones?”
“Clever, Juliana. Yes, they’re birthstones. The three in the center represent Merrick, Miri and me. All of them are of exact equal weight, cut and clarity.”
“And the circle of amethysts and sapphires? Your father and stepmother?”
“The amethyst, ironically enough, is my stepmother’s birthstone. The sapphire, my father’s. And if you look carefully at the gold filigree that makes up the rest of the ring, it spells out two words in Verdonian.”
It took Juliana a moment to find the words hidden in the pattern. “Love and…unity?”
“A circle of love and unity around the three most precious people in their lives. She’s a special woman, my stepmother.” He paused a beat. “You’d enjoy meeting her, as she would you.”
His comment brought her down to earth with painful swiftness. Her reflection bounced back from a dozen different mirrors, mocking her. She stood in fantasy, arrayed in jewels she had no right to wear. A tiara worn by a queen. A necklace given as a royal wedding gift. A ring that connected two soul mates.
It hurt. It hurt to know that she would never be the recipient of such gifts. Oh, not the gems. She didn’t care about those. It was the love and commitment and promise they stood for. Perhaps the women in her family were never meant to know those things. Certainly, her mother had never received as much from her father, though she’d kept hoping against hope, right up until her death.
Without a word Juliana turned her back on Lander, at the same time turning her back on a reflection that was just that—a reflection of reality. “I don’t think I can work the clasp,” she said, relieved that she sounded so calm. With luck she’d concealed her inner turmoil. “Would you mind?”
“Are you certain? I thought we could—”
She rounded on him, not so calm anymore, the turmoil slipping from her control and spilling loose. “Could what? Indulge in a little make-believe? Were you going to put on a crown and play Prince Charming to my Cinderella again?”
He twined a length of her hair around his fingers. The curls clung to him like the roses had clung to a midnight arbor in a dream they’d shared on a night not long ago. “I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
Pain threatened to overwhelm her, and it took a full minute to recover her equilibrium. “Thank you for a lovely evening, but it’s time for me to return home now.”
Home. Not that she actually had one. Her Verdonian apartment wasn’t a true home. An image of a Texas hacienda flashed through her mind, filling her with a vague yearning. Nor was Dallas. Not any longer. She’d lost all that at the tender age of eight. Her mouth twisted
. Or rather, she’d lost the illusion then. The pretense of hearth and home.
Without a word he reached behind her and unclasped the necklace. The tiara proved more problematic, tangling in curls that seemed reluctant to part with it. When she would have yanked it free, Lander stopped her, gently coaxing it loose.
“There,” he said at last, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Not a single hair lost.”
His comment knocked her off-kilter. He hadn’t been careful out of concern for the tiara, but so he wouldn’t hurt her. Her breath escaped in a gusty sigh. “What are we doing? What are you doing?”
“Don’t you know?”
She shook her head. “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t a clue.”
“You’re a smart woman. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
“I don’t want to figure it out eventually.” She studied him, attempting to analyze the situation. She should be able to logic it out. To add it up or puzzle it through, or apply reason to the problem and come up with a simple solution. One plus one always equaled two. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing made sense. “You’re playing some sort of game. I wish I knew what it was.”
He paused in the process of returning the pieces of jewelry to the display cases. “This is no game.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?” She shook her head as soon as she’d posed the question. “That doesn’t make sense. I vaguely recall you did that already.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “If it’s such a vague memory, I must have done something wrong.” He locked the case. “Perhaps there’s another explanation. A very simple, very obvious one.”
“Wait. You forgot the ring.” She slipped it from her finger and held it out to him. “The only explanation that makes any sense is that you’re still trying to prove that what we feel isn’t lust. Like you did in my office.”
He took the ring from her. But instead of returning it to the display case, he pocketed it. “Close, but not quite there.”
“I give up. Tell me what’s going on.”
“What about love?”
He shocked her so that she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Taking her arm, he escorted her through the door protected by his bodyguards and to the car that had delivered her to the museum. The engine started with a soft purr and they exited from the garage onto a rain-slicked street. Lightning speared the sky while thunder cleared its throat. Heavy droplets pounded the front windshield, their descent as fast and dizzying as her thoughts.
In no time they pulled into a garage, and this time she recognized it as the one to his apartment. He parked the car and glanced at her. There wasn’t an ounce of question in that silent look, just heated demand. She gave him her response by exiting the car and slamming the door. Then she stalked to the elevator, thunder rumbling approval with every step she took.
“It’s not possible,” she announced the minute they stepped from the elevator into the apartment.
A crash of thunder shook the building and Lander waited until it had died before asking, “What isn’t possible?”
“True love. Fairy-tale romances. Happily ever after.”
He glanced her way, the soft glow from a nearby lamp providing enough illumination to reveal his curiosity. “You don’t believe in love? Or you don’t believe in love at first sight?”
“I’m not sure I believe in either one,” she confessed.
“Interesting, considering what happened when we met.”
Her throat tightened. “What did happen, exactly?”
“Why don’t I show you instead.”
He lowered his head and sampled her mouth. Her lips parted beneath the onslaught. It was such a sweet joining, thorough and tender. When he would have pulled back, she thrust her fingers deep into his hair to prevent him and deepened the kiss. She couldn’t deal with tender right now, couldn’t handle all that it suggested about their relationship. But she’d accept thorough—accept it, as well as give it. She drank with greedy abandonment, consumed with a driving need to seize what he’d been promising for the past ten days.
The storm broke overhead, and the air quickened, filled with an energy and electricity that fueled their taking, one of the other. It was fast. Edged with violence. A battle for supremacy between male and female. He drove her toward the bedroom just as lightning flared, turning the room a stark blue white and revealing a man pushed past reason. Exhilarated, she pushed harder.
“Show me more,” she demanded, ripping at his clothing.
“Until there’s no more to show.” He stripped her with swift economy before dealing with the few remaining pieces of his own clothing. And then there was no more talking. The first moment of intense rapture caught them both by surprise, a swift, needy explosion of sheer ecstasy that mirrored the storm raging overhead.
“Tell me now that you don’t believe in love,” he demanded as he drove into her, sending her soaring again. “Deny it if you can.”
Her breath caught on a sob. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”
And as the heavens opened, flooding the earth, Juliana opened herself, heart and soul, no longer able to hide from the truth. She loved this man. Loved him more than she believed possible. It was as though her revelation gentled the storm. The thunder lost its voice, fading to a distant grumble, while the lightning flashed a soft farewell.
In that perfect moment they came together again. Slowly. Easily. With piercing sensitivity. Moving together in exquisite harmony.
Juliana closed her eyes, forced to accept the truth. They moved together in the ultimate expression of love.
Six
Lander woke, delighted to discover he still held Juliana in his arms. Rain-washed sunlight spilled across the bed and into her eyes, causing her to stir. With a gasp she sat up, one elbow just missing his jaw, the other nailing his gut with pinpoint accuracy. Whereas the night before she’d been all grace and poetry in motion, the morning turned her awkward and uncertain. He found it unbelievably endearing.
“Good morning,” he said, once he could draw breath.
She gazed up at him, blinking the remnants of sweet dreams from her eyes. “I overslept, didn’t I?”
“A bit.” Unable to resist, he buried his hands in her hair, realizing as he did so how much he enjoyed the soft, springy texture, as well as the way the curls clung to his fingers. He gave her a slow, lingering kiss. “But if that means waking with you in my arms, rather than finding you’ve slipped out the door, so much the better.”
“It’s definitely better,” she confessed with an abashed smile. “If not conducive to good work habits.”
In that moment she looked as far removed from the self-confident businesswoman as he’d ever seen—not to mention the seductive siren who’d first captured his interest. He wasn’t certain which aspect of her personality appealed the most. Right now he found the rumpled urchin a fascination he’d love to spend the rest of the morning exploring.
Before he could suggest it, a tiny frown crinkled her forehead. “What time is it, do you know?”
“Ten.”
She nearly hyperventilated. “Work. Office. Late. Very, very late.”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “Tell them you’re with me.”
That gave her pause, if only for an instant. At least it gave her enough time to calm down. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that sleeping with the Prince of Verdon gives me a free pass at work?”
A smile slashed across his face. “Duke of Verdon,” he corrected. “Prince of Verdonia. And I’ve been thinking of making it a royal decree. Any woman who sleeps with me is excused from work the next day. How does that sound?”
She inched toward the edge of the mattress. “You’ll have them lining up at the palace doors.”
He scooped her close before she could escape. “There’s only one woman I want at my door, and that’s you.”
He saw the delight blossom in her face and felt the eager give of her body. She laughed up at him and that momentary indulgence completely altere
d her appearance. A mischievous pixie peeked through the regal facade of the Fairy Queen, and Lander found he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She was so beautiful, her eyes tilted at the corners, just enough to give them an exotic slant, while specks of gold glistened hungrily in the honey brown. The sunlight danced across the spill of auburn curls turning them to flame against the elegant angles of her face. And her body. Lord help him. Plump and rounded where it needed to be and long and lean everywhere else, with skin so milky it looked as though it had been painted on by a master artist.
His arms tightened. “Stay,” he whispered. “Just this once.”
“Just once? I tried just once. It didn’t work, as I’m sure you recall.” With a regretful sigh, she rolled away from him, and as much as it pained him, he let her go. “I’m sorry, Lander. I have to get to work.”
“The children are depending on you, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” She gathered up her clothing and hugged the pieces to her so that all he could see was acres of leg vanishing into crumpled green silk.
He swept back the covers. “Give me a minute to dress and I’ll drive you.”
“No, don’t bother. I’ll just catch a cab back to my apartment.”
“Why bother with a cab if I’m willing to do it?” It didn’t surprise him when she avoided his gaze, not that he needed to see her eyes to guess what she was thinking. “It’s because you’re afraid someone will catch us together, isn’t it?”
“Too many people already know. It’s going to leak sooner or later.” She did look at him then, and the pain he read there struck like a physical blow. “We don’t have much longer.”