It was true. But he’d started to hope it wasn’t. He hadn’t understood the magnitude of her commitment to her own country.
“Is there someone back home you have to marry?” he asked.
“Not yet. Someday, yes. I have to have children. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, and the monarchy must continue.”
Sam let that sink in for a minute. “You’ll someday be queen.”
“I will.”
He thought back over their time together. “I made you bathe a dog.”
“I offered to bathe a dog. I like Storm. I like him a lot.”
“You were so sweet to the girls.” What he was thinking was that she’d been amazing to all of them, especially him. She’s listened so patiently. She’d offered advice. She’d forced him to face hard truths.
“I love your girls,” she said. A sheen came into her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m going to miss them so much.” She paused. “Maybe, maybe…”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“This can’t be it,” she said, a catch to her voice. “It can’t be all there is for us.”
He gave into impulse and drew her into his arms. Her body felt so perfect against his. “With all my heart, I wish is wasn’t. But you have to go,” he whispered.
His chest grew so tight it hurt.
“Sam.”
“I know.” He hugged her tighter, rocking her against him. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
“All I did was wash a dog and cook pancakes.”
“You know that’s not all. That’s nowhere near all. You made me feel again. You made me want again.” He almost said she’d made him love again. But that wasn’t true. That couldn’t possibly be true.
She tipped her head to him. “Kiss me, Sam.”
He did.
He kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Because, there wasn’t. There was no tomorrow for them, nothing in their future, nothing he could cling to in the dark of night. He was empty again. After such a short time of being full, he was empty. Only this time it wasn’t Kara he would miss.
Chapter Nine
Sam’s heart took a second hit in as many days. This time it was with empathy for Amelia and Sophie. Tears trickled down their clouded faces as the car carrying Storm disappeared around the corner of the block. Jasmine’s speech at the party had alerted Storm’s owner to his whereabouts, and they’d called Belle’s house this morning, grateful to find their beloved pet.
They were an elderly couple and Sam could hardly ask them to give away their dog.
“Everyone’s gone,” Amelia wailed, turning to run back into the house.
Sophie sniffed. “I’m sad, Daddy.”
Sam lifted her into his arms for a hug. “I’m sad too, sweetheart.”
He could feel himself slipping backward into despondency. But he knew he couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it ever again. Jasmine or no Jasmine, he was staying strong for his daughters. He’d made up his mind, and he was firm in his decision.
“How would you like to move back home?”
Sophie drew back to look at him. “You mean to our real house?”
“Yes, I mean to our real house.” He knew it was time. “I’m still working on the renovations, so not everything works yet. But, if you—”
“Yes!” She beamed at him, her tears drying up. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. “We can see Libby again. Every day.”
“Melanie has offered to watch you after school. So, yes, you would see Libby every day.”
“Amelia. Amelia,” Sophie called, wiggling to get out of his arms. She hit the floor and ran back into the house, calling to her sister. “We’re going home.”
Belle arrived as he closed the front door behind him. She raised her brows at Sam in a silent question.
“The girls and I are going home,” he said. “It’s time.”
She looked satisfied. “I’ll miss you. But I think that’s a good idea.”
Amelia flew down the stairs. “Is it true? Are we going? Are we going?”
“It’s true,” Sam said.
Amelia threw herself into his arms. “Sophie is so happy.”
“What about you sweetheart? Are you happy, too?”
Amelia nodded against his chest. “When are we going?”
“When do you want to go?”
“Now,” said Amelia.
“Now,” Sophie echoed.
“What about Christmas?” He looked doubtfully at Belle. “We don’t even have a tree.”
“We’ll get another one,” Amelia said.
“You have to come here for dinner,” Belle said.
“And you can come over to our house for breakfast,” Sophie replied.
“You want to move today?” Sam thought the idea was crazy, but he was thrilled to see the girls so happy.
“We’ll go pack,” Amelia said.
“What do you think?” he asked Belle.
“I think you’re their father, and you know best.”
Sam didn’t hesitate. Now that the decision was made, he found himself as anxious as the girls. “I think I should take them home.”
The girls whooped in delight, jumping up and down. Then they dashed back up the stairs.
“There are some packing boxes in the basement,” Belle said.
“I guess then I’m going to pack.”
Before he could move, Belle put a hand on his arm. “I know you’re going to miss her.”
Sam knew he could handle it. He was strong, and he was staying that way. “I’ll be fine. I’m good. I’m better than I ever expected I could be.”
“Sam,” Belle said.
He looked at her.
“I didn’t mean Kara.”
It took a minute for the words to sink in. When they did, he was filled with longing and regret. He wasn’t over Jasmine. He wasn’t anywhere near over Jasmine.
“I’ll be fine.” He repeated, but this time the words sounded hollow.
“She was a wonderful woman.”
“She was never what she pretended to be.”
He’d spent the past two days trying to harden his heart. He’d known Jasmine could never be his. She’d been clear about that. But despite himself, he’d begun to hope. He’d begun to hope, because he hadn’t known how absolutely unattainable she was.
“She was afraid,” Belle said. “She never lied to us.”
“She said her father was rich.”
“He is,” Belle answered reasonably.
“She said it was old family money.”
“It was.”
“Not in the way she led me to believe.”
He wished she’d told him from the beginning. If she had, he never would have allowed himself to fall for her. He’d have kept up his guard, and he wouldn’t be dealing with fresh heartbreak on top of everything else.
“You fell in love with her,” Belle said.
Sam was about to deny it.
“Don’t you dare worry about my feelings,” Belle said. “We both loved Kara. But I know Kara is gone. And Jasmine is here.”
“Jasmine’s not here.”
He’d only had her in his life for a split second. But yes, he’d fallen in love with her. And now he had to get over it. Denial wasn’t going to help him.
“Yes,” he admitted to Belle, “I fell in love with Jasmine. But I won’t let it overwhelm me. I’m going to be there for my girls.”
Belle gave him a squeeze. “I know you will. You made my daughter very happy. Maybe not Jasmine, but there’s every chance you’ll make another woman happy sometime in the future.”
Sam couldn’t even imagine that. Lightning striking twice was one thing. Three times was impossible.
*
Jasmine felt strangely out of place in her father’s office. She was back in her regular clothes. She’d had assistance with her hair and makeup this morning—as she’d had most mornings since she turned sixteen. But it had never felt odd before. It had
never seemed strange to have her breakfast prepared in a distant kitchen, brought to her under silver by a neatly dressed waiter.
She couldn’t help but think about Sam, Amelia and Sophie, and about Belle’s pancakes. Belle made the greatest pancakes in the world. She’d flipped them straight off the griddle onto Jasmine’s plate. They were hot and crispy, tender inside with melted butter and maple syrup.
With the time zone change, they were probably getting up right now, the girls in their colorful nightgowns, Belle at the stove, and Sam, Sam…
Jasmine rose from the leather guest chair and moved across the king’s office, gazing out the window across the snowy grounds, the fountain, the gardens, the lake beyond. But it was Sam who filled her vision, dressed in his faded jeans, a tight t-shirt, unshaven with bare feet and a sexy smile. He had such a wonderful smile.
She gave herself a shake. She had to stop fantasizing about him. She was attending a children’s Christmas concert this afternoon, followed by a formal dinner with dignitaries from all over Vollan. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and the festivities would be nonstop until New Year’s Day.
She turned from the window and stared blankly at her father’s desktop. It was neat and orderly, as was everything in the palace. She’d never thought about it before, but the second something was moved, a staff member magically showed up to put it right. It was the same in her bedroom and her sitting room. It was the silliest thing, but she missed making her own bed and putting away her own clothes.
She’d even learned how to run a washing machine while she was in Tucker. She doubted her father would be impressed, but she was proud of herself. And she’d bathed a dog. And she’d kissed a man. Boy, had she kissed a man.
Her fingertips moved to her lips, imagining she could still feel Sam’s touch.
“Stop it.” She warned herself.
The second the words were out of her mouth, she glanced guiltily around the office. There was nobody with her, but she felt self-conscious anyway. She dropped her hand to her side.
On the desktop, a paper caught her eye. It was out of place by about an inch, as if someone had been reading it and hastily put it back. She straightened it.
It was a draft of a royal decree, bold, black type on white paper. Someone had edited it by hand. She guessed that would be one of the lawyers, or maybe her father’s private secretary. The words “upon the death of the king” jumped out at her. She couldn’t stop herself from reading further.
Surely her father couldn’t be sick. He was energetic and happy, well as happy as usual, anyway. He’s wasn’t a frivolous man. But he still rode horses and walked the hills behind the palace.
She lifted the page. As the words registered, her hand trembled. She dropped into his chair and kept reading.
The door opened. The king strode in. He stopped short when he saw her in his chair.
She leapt guiltily to her feet.
“Princess Jasmine?” he demanded, obviously shocked by the stunning breach of protocol.
“Prince Norman?” she asked her father.
“How dare you read my private papers.”
“You’re naming Prince Norman as your heir.”
“No,” said the king, striding forward and removing the paper from her hand. “I am not. While you were away, we were exploring a theoretical question.”
“The theoretical question of me not becoming queen of Vollan?”
Jasmine had no idea how to feel. She was hurt. She was disappointed. But she was also strangely relieved. It had never occurred to her there would be options to her becoming queen.
“It was while you were missing.”
“Did you think I was dead?” Even as she asked the question, she realized that couldn’t be it. If she was dead, her father’s younger brother, Prince Norman would automatically become heir to the throne. They wouldn’t need a legal document to accomplish that.
“We did not think you were dead. Darren had told us what happened at your speech in New York.” Her father’s expression unexpectedly softened. “You’ve been struggling for years. It wasn’t getting any better. I was worried about you.”
His uncharacteristic sympathy left Jasmine speechless.
“But then I saw you in Tucker, on stage at the party,” he said. “I watched you speak so eloquently and successfully to that crowd.”
“You saw that?” She was beyond surprised that he’d been in the warehouse so long before announcing his presence.
“I did. I watched you prove that you were capable. When I saw you on that stage, I knew you would be queen. You’re ready for your destiny, and this paper will be destroyed.” He handed it to the attendant behind him.
“Father,” she started haltingly, a wild idea forming in her mind. “How… how did Prince Norman feel about this?”
“He was fully prepared to do his duty.”
“But was he happy?”
“I don’t see how that is relevant.”
“Will he be disappointed that you’ve changed your mind?” she asked.
“I don’t—”
“Father, please. I need to know. Did Prince Norman want to be king?”
“None of that matters anymore.”
But it did. It might. It gave Jasmine options she never knew she had.
She knew her cousin Princess Adara wanted to be queen. She’d always told Jasmine she was the luckiest girl in the world. She loved all of the royal duties, from attending ceremonies and cutting ribbons, to interacting with children in hospitals and representing Vollan internationally at diplomatic meetings.
An exciting and terrifying idea was anchoring itself in Jasmine’s brain.
She stood tall, squared her shoulders, and walked to the private secretary. She held out her hand for the paper, and he immediately pulled it from the folder and handed it to her.
“Please don’t destroy this,” she said to her father.
“No one will ever know it existed,” he assured her.
“I don’t know if I want to be queen.” She dared to utter. “I’m sorry, Father, but I might not want to be queen.”
His face took on a pink hue. “Don’t be absurd.”
She held up the paper. “It’s possible to change my destiny. You’ve just shown me it’s possible.”
“You have proven yourself more than capable. I was wrong to even consider it.”
“Something happened in Tucker, Father.”
His face went darker, his brows knitting together in what looked like emerging anger. “What did you do?”
“I fell in love.” As she said the words, an enormous feeling lightness came over her entire body. She loved Sam. She loved him so much.
“What did you do?” he repeated.
“Nothing. I talked to him. We washed a dog together.”
“A dog?”
You’d have thought she said they’d robbed a bank.
“I got to know him. And I kissed him. I love him deeply, and I want so desperately to go back to him.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” the king said with absolute authority.
“It’s not nonsense.” She loved Sam. And that last day, those last few moments together, she could have sworn he was about to say he loved her. He said he wanted her in his life. And she very much wanted to be in his.
“You cannot marry an American,” the king said.
“Is there a law against it?”
*
He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched tight, and he stared hard into her eyes.
She stood her ground. “Please, Father. Let me go to Sam.”
The king’s gaze unexpectedly softened. “You love him that much?”
“I do.”
“It would be extraordinary.”
“It would make me very happy.”
“Then I will make him a duke,”
The statement startled Jasmine into silence.
“The Duke of Holden.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Maybe not. But that
is my offer, daughter. You cannot forsake your kingdom.”
“Sam will want to stay in Maine.” Jasmine knew how much Sam loved the town of Tucker.
If he loved her, and she desperately hoped he did. He would still be determined to raise his daughters in his home town.
The king leaned forward and gave Jasmine a kiss on the forehead. “If he loves you, he will share your life. Ask him to come to Vollan.”
Jasmien wasn’t at all certain of that. “If he refuses, I want to stay with him.”
“If he refuses, we will talk again.”
But Jasmine’s mind was already made up. If Sam loved her in return, no matter what it took, she’d find a way for them to be together.
*
Sam and the girl’s Christmas tree was a bit sad, hastily put together, and the kitchen was still halfway under construction. Shopping had been curtailed due to the storm, so there were fewer presents than usual. But Christmas morning dawned to two happy little girls.
They’d torn into their presents with apparent gusto, and were now rushing around the house having a mock sword fight with the empty cardboard Christmas wrapping cylinders. Sophie was humoring Amelia, who had promised to make jewelry with Sophie’s new kit later on.
Sam was sizing up the supplies in the refrigerator, wondering if he had enough to make pancakes. He could always call Belle and get her to bring along a few things. But he was hoping to pull breakfast off himself. It felt like a small measure of independence.
The doorbell rang, and the girls shrieked in delight, rushing through the living room. It would be Libby, probably still in her pajamas, ready to show off her gifts.
It was such a normal little moment and he was happy for his girls. Unfortunately, he was incredibly sad for himself. He’d missed Jasmine every minute of every day since she’d left. His heartache was acute, and he couldn’t seem to accept the fact that she wasn’t coming back.
He heard Libby’s voice joining the chorus. The door slammed shut, and the girls rushed off up the stairs.
Sam went back to the fridge, checking the level in the milk carton then opening the freezer to confirm they had blueberries.
The doorbell rang again—probably Brock or Melanie with the boys this time. It looked like he was going to have a make a lot of pancakes.
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