“That’s fine,” she said. “I’d like to go back and do my own packing.”
“What do you plan to do about your business?”
“I thought I’d turn it over to Mara. She’s been with me for three years and knows the ins and outs as well as I do.”
“Excellent. It seems as if you’ve got it all well in hand. Perhaps your return will not be nearly as traumatic as you feared it would be.”
“Maybe not for me,” she agreed. “What about for you?”
“For me?”
“You said you plan to leave the palace. Where will you go?”
“To a small château in the country.”
She kept her eyes on his. “This is a big place. Can’t you just stay here?”
Looking at the beautiful woman before him, her blue eyes soft, her long auburn hair falling so beautifully around her shoulders that it all but begged to be touched, he could well imagine staying. But he couldn’t.
“It is impossible.”
“Wouldn’t look proper, huh?” She looked around the room. “Two people sharing one seventy-five-thousand-square-foot building. Way too intimate.”
Although she was kidding, “intimate” was exactly what he was trying to avoid where she was concerned. “I’m sure you can use the extra closet space,” he told her.
She gave a hearty laugh. “Clothes are not my weakness. Books, yes. Clothes, no.”
He could have guessed that about her already, but it still impressed him. Throughout his bachelorhood, he’d met more clotheshorses than he cared to think about, and that kind of woman left him cold.
It was just one more thing that made Amé so damnably intriguing.
“Then you should be quite happy with the library here. Once you learn German,” he added.
She raised an eyebrow. “That may take a while. Do you have a backup plan? Interpreters, maybe?”
“Of course. But you’ll need a tutor, of course.” He made a note on the pad before him to hire a tutor.
She hesitated, then asked, “What does Mein herz ist immer hier mit Ihnen mean?”
The look he gave her was one of shock.
She felt her face grow warm. “Does it mean anything? Did I pronounce it horribly wrong?”
“You pronounced it perfectly,” he said slowly.
She waited for him to elaborate, but he just continued to study her with an expression of mingled surprise and what appeared to be sadness.
“Where did you hear it?” he asked after a moment.
“I don’t know, I guess it was in a dream. Maybe a memory. Maybe it was something I heard on the television when Letty was watching. Why? What does it mean?” she asked again.
“It means ‘My heart is always here with you.’
Chapter Ten
Amy waited alone in the darkened ballroom for the dance instructor to show up. She didn’t know how to turn on the lights. Judging from the size of the room, it was probably something that had to be done at some central electrical headquarters somewhere.
She didn’t mind. It was actually quite beautiful with the golden afternoon sun slanting through the wall of windows and French doors to the terrace. In the summer that would probably be a beautiful place to sit and watch the sunset, she thought, then it occurred to her that she didn’t need to simply imagine it, she could do it, if she wanted to. She would be here in the summer.
The idea was still difficult to grasp.
She pictured herself and Will together on the terrace, sipping champagne. Light romantic music played in the background of her imagination. It could be so nice.
Then she remembered that her time now with Will was temporary. He wouldn’t be Prince Wilhelm anymore in the summer. And if his coolness toward her the last time she saw him was any indication, he wouldn’t be interested in sitting on the terrace or anywhere else with her.
“Amé.”
She whirled around, startled. It took her eyes a moment to adjust before she realized it was Will walking toward her.
“What are you doing here in the dark?” he asked.
“Waiting for the dance instructor. Didn’t Letty say four o’clock?” She looked at her watch. It was already 4:20 p.m.
“Letty just called and told me that he’d canceled at the last minute. I asked her to come and tell you, but she said she had twisted her ankle and was having a difficult time with the stairs.”
Amy frowned. “I saw her after lunch and she was fine.”
“She was fine an hour ago as well,” he said. Amy couldn’t read his expression, but it wasn’t a happy one. “Nevertheless, that is what she said.”
“So he’s not coming.”
“Apparently not.”
“The ball is in three days.”
“Yes.”
“And unless I’m allowed to stand on the feet of my dance partner, I’m going to look like a complete idiot when it’s time for me to dance.”
He smiled for the first time in what seemed to her like ages. “You’re going to look a little silly if you stand on his feet as well.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean.”
He hesitated for a moment, glancing around uneasily, then let out a sigh. “All right, I’m no teacher, but I’ll do what I can.”
“You’re going to teach me to waltz?” She almost laughed. Prince Wilhelm, himself, giving dance instructions. Wait till the girls at the Dentytown Arthur Murray heard about this!
“This is really very simple,” he said. “Give me your hand.”
“Which one?”
“Your right.” He held his arm out. “Put your hand in mine and the other one on my shoulder.”
Slowly, she lifted her hand to his shoulder and cupped it over the muscled contour. He took her other hand and drew her closer.
Her heart pounded in response.
“Relax,” he said to her, pressing his hand against her back and gently pulling her closer still. “You’re supposed to look as if you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Sorry.” She swallowed and took a long, slow breath to try to calm down. She couldn’t. He was so close. So strong. He smelled so good. And all she could think about was kissing him.
They took a couple of stiff steps, then he stopped.
“Amé.” He stepped back. “What’s the matter? Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“No,” she lied. “It’s not you, it’s…it’s everything else.”
He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
She hesitated. She couldn’t tell him she was uncomfortable because she was falling for him. He’d brought her here hoping she would fall in love with the country, not with him!
“I—I mean,” she faltered, “well, look at this place.” She opened her arms wide. “I’m not this kind of girl.”
“You’re not what kind of girl?”
“This kind. The marble-ballroom, gilded-pillars, French-doors-onto-the-veranda kind of girl. It will take some time to get used to it.”
He looked at her for a moment, then asked quietly, “What kind of girl are you?”
Her heart leapt at the low tone of his voice but she tried to keep her answer casual. “You know, I’m from a small town. We don’t have great big lives and great big events. Our best Sunday dinner is a roast turkey with stuffing and that’s about as big as an event gets.”
“Stuffing?” he repeated quizzically.
“Yes, it’s bread and celery and onions—some people use sausage or oysters, but don’t get me started on that. You chop it all up and put it in the breast cavity when you roast a turkey.”
“Ah, yes. Dressing.” He smiled.
“Yes. Stuffing.” She laughed.
“And this precludes you from living comfortably in the palace?” There was laughter in his eyes. “Have the cook add it to the menu.”
She laughed again and said, “You’re humoring me.”
“Is that different from amusing you?”
“Quite.”
“Which do you prefer?”
&n
bsp; “Instruct me,” she said. “I’ll relax this time, despite the fact that we have three days until the ball and I have two left feet. I could really do without the humiliation of making a fool of myself in front of a crowd of curious onlookers.”
“You could never look like a fool,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder and drawing her in.
“Just you wait,” she said, a little breathlessly.
He pulled her tighter, placing one hand on her back and taking her hand in his other one. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to be.”
He flashed a quick, heart-stopping white smile and said, “Step back with your right foot.”
She did and he moved his left foot forward.
“Now bring your left foot next to your right,” he told her.
He did the same and they continued to move across the dance floor in unison until finally Amy began to feel she was getting the hang of it and relaxed.
“Music would help.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t bring an orchestra with me.”
“That was short-sighted of you.” She smiled.
“You don’t need music.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “You create your own.”
Their movements slowed.
“That’s all there is to it.”
“I hope I don’t forget when I’m on the spot,” Amy said.
“You’ll do fine,” he assured her, letting go of her. “Everyone will love you.”
She looked up into his eyes. “Everyone?”
They stopped, but didn’t part. “Everyone who matters.”
She collected her courage. “Where do you stand in the hierarchy of people who matter?” she asked him.
He adjusted his grip on her hand but didn’t let go. “Why do you ask that?”
She drew herself up. “Because ever since finding out that I was truly Princess Amelia, you have been…cooler toward me.”
“It’s your imagination.”
“No, it’s not,” she said firmly.
He paused, then said, “No, it’s not.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree with her. Somehow that made his rejection even more painful. “So what is it?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. “Did I do something to offend you?”
He responded quickly. “No, of course not, Amé. I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m merely trying to keep our relationship detached.”
“Detached?” she repeated.
“Is that the wrong word? I mean impersonal. Professional, you might say.”
“But why? I thought we were friends.”
“You are the princess of Lufthania. I am merely your subject. One of many.”
She couldn’t believe he was saying this to her. It was all wrong. “You’re the only person here that I know at all. You’re the only one I trust to help me.”
He looked pained but said, “You can trust anyone on the staff.”
“It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same. I thought we had something together.” She threw her pride to the wind. “I thought our relationship was more than just professional. I thought you were my friend.”
For one long moment, he looked at her. Finally he shook his head. “You are my monarch.”
Like the butterfly, she thought. A delicate thing with a short span of being. “I’m just Amy Scott,” she said. “A girl from a small town in Maryland. I’m no monarch.”
“Ah, but you are.” He started walking toward the French doors to the terrace. “I’m leaving the palace, Amé. I won’t be part of this life anymore. It’s yours now. Take it.”
“So…what?” She called to his back. “You’re going to just disappear?”
He turned to face her. “I’m not going to disappear. I’ll be close by. But I cannot stay here. There’s no place for me here.”
“You’re the prince.”
“I’m not. I’m a usurper. You are the princess, the only true heir to the throne. It’s your time to shine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must leave.”
“I don’t want you to.” She hated how forlorn she sounded, but it was the truth. She didn’t want him running out on her. She needed him.
She needed him.
Heaven help her. She didn’t ever want to need any man again. She was content to be alone. Maybe not deliriously happy, but she at least had the peace of mind that came of not wondering if her life was going to change because of someone else’s decision to move on tomorrow. She didn’t have to be afraid of getting too attached only to feel the horrible pain of loss because she didn’t get too attached.
And yet, here she was, not wanting Will to leave the room, much less her life.
Maybe he sensed her desire. Maybe he was trying to distance himself from her before his life was complicated further by their relationship.
He stood before her, looking so regretful that she was about to apologize herself, when he said, “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t have time to respond before he turned and started toward the door, in long, purposeful strides.
She was trying to think of something to say to stop him. Anything at all. But all she could think of was that she not only wanted him to stay with her right now, but she wanted him to stay forever.
And there was no way she could confess that to him.
She watched as he approached the door, and she felt more and more empty with every step he took.
Then he stopped.
And he turned around.
Her breath caught in her chest, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She just waited, with bated breath, to see what he would do next.
She didn’t have to wait long. He shook his head and walked back to her. There was no hesitation in his step, no apprehension. He simply strode right up to her, took her in his arms and kissed her.
His mouth was hungry on hers, and he kissed her deeply.
She tipped her head back and drank him in, languishing in his manly scent and in the rough touch of his beard against her skin. This was no polite kiss on the cheek, this was desire so fervent it went beyond words. Desire so urgent it could only be expressed from his lips to hers.
His breath was hot against her skin, making her feel at once safe and dangerous.
She curled her arms around his shoulders and rifled her fingers through the slightly long but wonderfully touchable hair at the nape of his neck. He was a prince, at least for a while, but right now he felt like the rebellious loner, the guy who didn’t care about convention or what was proper, who wanted a woman and was willing to shake off whatever conventions might have prevented it.
He was irresistibly attractive.
“Will,” Amy breathed as he trailed kisses across her jaw and down her neck. She nestled against the soft cotton of his collar and wished the moment would never end. “Don’t stop.”
Wordlessly, he spanned his hands against her lower back and ran his fingers up to her shoulder blades, sending shivers of pleasure up her spine.
Just as she was about ready to shrug out of her shirt entirely and give herself to him, a flash from the direction of the window stopped them both.
“What was that?” she asked.
There was another flash. Her first thought was that it was lightning.
Will shouted an oath, or something that sounded very much like one, in German, and went to the glass doors, throwing them open so that they clattered against their frames.
Amy hurried up behind him. “What was that? Was it a camera?”
“Yes.” His voice was grim. “A camera flash. Someone must have told the photographer where we would be.”
“But who knew we’d be standing in the dark in the ballroom?”
“I can only think of one person.”
Amy looked at him and was about to ask who when it hit her. “No! Not Letty. I can’t believe it.”
“I wouldn’t have suspected her of such a thing, either, but she’s been at the center of quite a few incidents lately. She and Christian.”
“Like what?”
“Like the telephone line that went dead in your room on your second day here.”
“What about it?”
“I went in to fix it and found Christian yanking it out of the wall. He said it was an accident, but I don’t believe it. He’s worked in the palace far too long to make that kind of mistake.”
“But why would he bother?”
“That’s what I don’t know.” Will raked his hand through his hair and paced the floor in front of her. “Why would Letty say she’d hired a dance instructor then call at the last minute to say he wouldn’t show up? I would have believed it a coincidence if the photographer hadn’t appeared.”
“What does Letty have to gain from photos of us…you know, of us kissing? For that matter, how could she even have predicted we would be?”
“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe the photographer was trying to get shots of something else. Or maybe he didn’t care what he got pictures of, as long as you were in them.”
“What’s the point of that?”
“I don’t know.” He stopped in front of her. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It’s crazy. It must be a coincidence. Things are often odd when Letty’s around.”
Amy smiled. “But odd in a good way.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“Not in a bad way.”
He looked in the direction of the doors again. “Not usually.”
He was concerned about something but he wasn’t going to say what. That made Amy far more nervous than if he had just come right out and told her what it was.
“Is there something we should do?” Amy asked.
He turned to her, clearly distracted. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Just stay in the palace. Whatever you do, don’t leave. I will find you later.”
Without further explanation, he left the room, leaving Amy to stand wondering whether she should be excited or fearful.
Chapter Eleven
“You made the morning paper,” Letty announced delightedly, as she walked into Amy’s room in the morning, bearing a tray of coffee and pastries and a new edition of the newspaper.
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