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To Kiss a King (Royal Scandals: San Rimini Book 6)

Page 18

by Nicole Burnham


  “What about, ah, sanitary habits?” one bold reporter had asked.

  Zeno had pulled off a credible look of lightheartedness, despite feeling anything but. “I imagine they’ll be shown that footage at regular intervals for the rest of their lives and it will be every bit as agonizing as being forced to watch ourselves at that age. There are experiences no one wants to relive, particularly on film.”

  No one uttered the phrase “Code Orange” outside Eduardo’s office, lest anyone ask the definition. If it became known that the monarch had a code word for addressing his family’s very human foibles, it would—ironically enough—result in yet another Code Orange.

  “I suppose we’re due. Margaret’s still smiling, so it can’t be that bad.”

  Zeno opened his mouth to speak, paused, then started again. “Before she married Prince Marco, Amanda made regular purchases from a major online retailer, one that offered overnight delivery to her college residence hall and to her flat in Washington, D.C.”

  “I can guess which one. I can also guess what happened. Her purchase history was leaked and one or more items are causing a stir?”

  Margaret glanced at Zeno, and Sergio glanced at Margaret. Then they all looked at the king.

  “Not quite, Your Highness,” Zeno said. “The items were innocuous. Gym shoes, light bulbs, a coffee maker. A lot of books. She left reviews for many of her purchases. They were posted under a screen name, but that name has been definitively linked to your daughter-in-law and the reviews are being republished in multiple outlets.”

  Eduardo wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or to laugh. Amanda was circumspect. Before marrying Marco, she’d served as an etiquette coach to children of diplomats and other high-ranking individuals. What could she possibly have said that would rise to the level of a Code Orange?

  “There are rules for reviews on those sites, so I take it her reviews did not contain profanity.”

  “No, but they weren’t what a member of the royal family would post.” Zeno unfolded a printout, apparently a screen shot of a review. “This is for a toaster oven.”

  As Zeno held the paper aloft and prepared to read, Sergio turned around and coughed. Then Margaret started laughing and mumbled a, “Pardon me, Your Highness.”

  Zeno turned in the seat so he couldn’t see Margaret or Sergio as he read aloud. “This toaster oven does, indeed, toast a variety of items. Unfortunately, one cannot eat anything after this toaster oven has been used—even other food—because the stench created when you hit the power button is overwhelming. I don’t know if faulty wiring or faulty components are to blame, but if you value your mealtime, do not click the buy button. You may as well take your meal into the midst of a fetid garbage dump to eat, because the odor from this toaster oven will permeate your taste buds, if not your entire kitchen. You’ll feel like you’re surrounded by rotting fish and other waste as you eat. PS: On a positive note, if you happen to receive this toaster oven as a housewarming gift, you’ll quickly meet your new neighbors and perhaps your local firefighters when they come to investigate the noxious fumes.”

  Sergio’s face went crimson as he fought to contain his laughter.

  Zeno lowered the paper. “The toaster oven manufacturer has been the subject of online, well, I’ll call it mockery, Your Highness. There were other reviews in a similar vein. A shorter one was for a ten-year battery. She noted that it lasted three weeks in her smoke detector, but made a nice ten-year ornament on her Christmas tree after she removed it from the detector, tested it to confirm that it was dead, and then tied a ribbon to the top.”

  Eduardo bit back a grin and tapped his fingers against the desktop. “So humorous, but nothing salacious. And no false claims about any of the items.”

  “Correct, Your Highness. A true Code Orange. If the reviews hadn’t contained humor, I doubt they’d have caught anyone’s attention. But now that they have, they’re being repeated. I’ll be asked about them in the press room today.”

  Eduardo leaned back in his chair. “This solves one of the great mysteries of the universe. We now know how Amanda and Marco found common ground to marry.”

  “Please say I can use that,” Zeno begged. “Not quoting you, of course, Your Highness. I’d prefer to steal it.”

  “If you think it will help defuse the situation, be my guest. Now are we finished?”

  When everyone said they were set, Eduardo stood. He could see in their expressions that, while the Code Orange issue had drawn some of the tension from the room, his senior staff remained concerned about his relationship with Claire and what it could mean for the Strada il Teatro project.

  “All right. Priority number one this week is the Strada. Zeno, please drive that home to the media. Margaret, when you meet with any groups who have an interest in the appearance of the Strada—say, one of the museum foundations or theater charities—let them know how excited we are about the proposed plan and remind them that we’re all in this together. We don’t want them to see us as an adversary, but as a partner in protecting their interests for the future. We want their support to remain strong.”

  “I will, Your Highness.”

  “And Sergio, you know what to do. Finalize whatever sections of the plan you can so we can provide supportive members of parliament with an early preview. When the formal plan is introduced and it’s time for us to take a step back, I want them primed to argue in favor of it.”

  At Sergio’s nod of understanding, Eduardo planted his hands on the desk. “This is important. You all know why. It’s also important to me personally.”

  He looked at them one by one, needing to drive the point home. “I married a wonderful woman in Queen Aletta. Each of you know what she meant to me and what she meant to this country. It’s right that people wish to honor her legacy. That being said, I don’t want my sole legacy to be that I had a beloved wife. I want future generations to know that I used the valuable time I was given in this office to improve San Rimini. I want to inspire them to do the same. Now let’s get this done.”

  Chapter 18

  “I can’t believe it took us this long.” Claire said as she pointed Eduardo toward the cabinet that contained her glassware. She salted the popcorn and held the large bowl in front of her to give the contents a gentle air toss. She’d insisted that they do this movie theater style. She’d even managed to locate two boxes of Raisinets at a specialty shop on her way home from work.

  Eduardo’s mouth had twisted in disdain when she’d presented the candy upon his arrival. He’d noted that any number of confectionaries in town could have made chocolate-covered raisins to order and she needn’t have purchased the packaged variety.

  “You’ve never had Raisinets, have you?” she’d asked.

  “No.”

  “Then it’s about time.”

  “You sound like Samuel Barden trying to convince me to try a new sweet potato recipe.”

  “We’ve waited this long to watch the movie. Do you think I’d ruin it with candy I know you won’t like?”

  “Hmm. This will be a test of my trust in you.”

  She’d given him a playful kiss and urged him into the kitchen.

  Over a late-night dinner at a Greek restaurant the previous week, she’d teased him about his inability to get Out of Africa at the palace. In the end, it was Luisa who discovered that the film was between licenses in San Rimini. The previous broadcaster had dropped it, but another had it scheduled to begin in two months.

  Claire had searched online until she found a way to do a one-time rental. They’d blocked off the evening in each of their calendars and agreed to watch the movie at her place. Now the opening scene was ready to go, paused on the television as they assembled their snacks.

  They were going to do this the right way.

  Eduardo capped the soda, then returned the bottle to the fridge. As she located the napkins, she told him, “I saw the transportation minister on the news earlier. He was talking about your plan for the Strada il Teatro.”<
br />
  “Sergio tells me he is enthusiastic. I hope that was apparent?”

  “He told the reporter that he’d recently met with members of the Central Business District Council to discuss the current version and that all involved felt that it was a carefully considered plan—that was his phrase. If parliament were to pass it, he said that the country could look forward to an improved downtown area without sacrificing the aspects that make it a national treasure.”

  “That’s music to my ears.” He accepted a few napkins from Claire, then started toward the sitting room with the napkins and soda. She followed with the popcorn. The Raisinets were already on the coffee table. As he placed the drinks on coasters, he said, “The plan goes to parliament next week. Officially, that is. The key players have seen the latest draft so they’re ready to speak to its components once it’s out of our hands and the budget discussion begins.”

  She reached for the switch on a tall lamp that stood beside the sofa and doused the light before picking up the remote. “Do you think it will pass as is?”

  “My staff did the dirty work of herding the cats so they’re all facing the same direction. Parliament knows it’s needed and that they’ll never have an opportunity with less political risk. But they need to move on it before anyone decides to change direction. If that happens, they’re in for a slog. No one wants that.”

  Eduardo settled into the cushions, then put one arm along the back of the sofa, inviting her to settle against him. She took a seat and was about to start the movie when Eduardo noticed a box in the corner. “You have an entire carton of champagne. Is that for me?”

  “Not in the way you think.” She’d planned to tell him later in the week, but she supposed it didn’t matter. “Mark Rosenburg has a follow-up meeting with Sonia Selvaggi on Monday. She has a few remaining questions about teacher security. Mark’s going to walk her through the protocols that are already in place, plus some that will be added as the program expands into areas where the concerns are different.”

  He leaned back so he could see her face. “You’re going to get her support?”

  “We are. I’ve spoken with her twice, once on the phone and once in person. Mark’s done the heavy lifting. She’s all but told him she’s a yes vote should you introduce it to parliament. As soon as Mark has her agreement, I’m taking that case of champagne to his office so he can it share with his team, except for the last bottle, which we will send to you.”

  “You have an evil streak, you know that?”

  She winked and lifted the remote. As the opening credits began, she cuddled against him. “Speaking of evil, how did your cribbage game go with Giovanni last weekend?”

  “That evil streak of yours is getting wider and wider.”

  “I like to play dirty sometimes.”

  “Now that sounds fun.”

  She clicked the remote and the screen went to a wide shot of a hazy orange sunset and a single tree. Gradually, the silhouette of a hunter appeared against the low, desolate sun. Claire knew the first lines by heart, about Karen Blixen’s memory of a man who took his gramophone on safari.

  Three rifles, supplies for a month, and Mozart.

  Claire wrapped her arms around Eduardo’s waist and allowed herself to be carried away by the music, the story, and Eduardo’s strong embrace.

  Later, long after they’d abandoned popcorn and Raisinets in favor of a warm bed, Claire lay on her back with her eyes closed and Eduardo’s cheek against her breast. His chest rose and fell with hers and the day’s growth of facial hair rasped against her skin. His heart thudded against hers in a reassuring rhythm and a light sheen of sweat evaporated from his back into the cool air. Her fingers dragged back and forth across his hair as she cherished all of it.

  Exhausted as they were, she knew he was awake and savoring it, too.

  When she slowed the movement, he turned his head and planted a delicate kiss at the base of her throat.

  “Do you need to go home?” she whispered.

  “No. Are you kicking me out?”

  She skimmed her fingertips along the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades, which drew a satisfied murmur. “Never. This feels too good to let go.”

  He nipped at her throat before pushing to his elbows and bracing them on either side of her. “Not that I don’t appreciate all that came before it, but this moment is special. With you. Thank you.”

  She smiled at that as she continued to caress his back. “Later this week, when I’m in my office with a long list of phone calls to make and people and projects demanding my attention, this is what I’ll come to in my mind for peace.”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, as if drawing fortification for his own week, then lowered himself until his forehead rested against hers. There was an enormity to the moment; they lay like that for several seconds, then he brushed his lips over hers in a kiss that felt as if it held years of checked emotion.

  Afterward, he remained still. When she opened her eyes, he held her gaze as if he’d been waiting for her. “Sex I’ve never had a problem with, at least not in theory. Intimacy, however, is something else. It’s rare for anyone. Rarer still for anyone with jobs like ours. The risks are too great.”

  He shifted slightly, but didn’t take his eyes off hers. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Claire Peyton. The thought of you excites me, but it also brings me peace. I so deeply believed that I’d never experience that feeling after Aletta died that I didn’t bother to look for it. But when we met, I recognized that I could have it with you. Perhaps even the night we danced at the credentials ceremony. You captivated me.”

  “What, when you thought I’d been about to commit a faux pas and ask you to dance?”

  He brushed a stray tendril of hair from her forehead and smiled. “I could have evaded. I didn’t. I wanted to dance with you. In fact, I wanted it very badly.”

  Claire felt tears pooling in her eyes. She didn’t want to blink, knowing they’d spill over, but Eduardo saw them coming and used his thumbs to blot them away.

  “I love you, Eduardo. I trust you. And I’m very glad I had the opportunity to dance with you.”

  He kissed her again, then said, “You were worth the wait.”

  It made her enormously happy to hear, but at the same time, her heart broke for him and all he’d been through.

  “You mentioned that you haven’t dated since Aletta passed away. But surely in that time…you haven’t…?”

  All the diplomatic skills in the world didn’t help her phrase the question she wanted to ask, but Eduardo understood.

  “It’s been nine years for that, too. Well, more.” He eased to the side, drawing her with him so they faced each other in the dark.

  On a long breath, he said, “Off and on for several months, Aletta mentioned having intestinal issues and feeling bloated. Depending on the day, she attributed it to a busy schedule, to a meal that disagreed with her, or to the pressures of preparing for Federico’s wedding. It was nothing that interfered with her daily life, merely an annoyance. A routine exam raised a flag. That turned into multiple follow-ups, during which we learned she had advanced ovarian cancer. Federico’s wedding fell in the midst of the follow-up appointments. While the country was wrapped up in photos of the wedding gown and who Federico would ask to be his best man, Aletta and I entered crisis mode.”

  He traced a path along Claire’s side until he found a comfortable spot on her hip to settle his hand. “Life became a cascade of decisions. How and when to tell our children. How to tell her sister, Helena, who was also her personal assistant. We had to manage doctors’ visits and surgery and chemotherapy, and figure out what the staff and then the public needed to know and when, all while trying to put Aletta’s mental and physical health first. It was stressful and agonizing, and I certainly wasn’t thinking about…well, anything else. And I was scared for her.”

  As Claire listened to Eduardo, her respect and love for him grew. Aletta’s treatment was the most advanced av
ailable at the time. They’d tried to be optimistic, to tell themselves that there were brighter days ahead. By the time they knew Aletta wouldn’t be cured, sex was the last thing on their minds. She was in no condition physically and neither of them were in that place emotionally. From the day of Aletta’s diagnosis until the day Claire had walked into Eduardo’s palace apartment to tell him she thought they should end their relationship—and they’d ended up in bed instead—he’d been celibate.

  And, Claire was certain, he’d kept his pain to himself. He couldn’t hide the fact he was in mourning. But after the initial shock of his wife’s death, in the long years he’d spent alone and dedicated to his job, he spoke of it to no one. Not his children. Not his siblings. Not even Giovanni.

  Claire placed a hand on his chest. Her fingers brushed the edge of his scar. “That’s a long time.”

  One side of his mouth lifted in agreement. “I was married to the most wonderful woman I’d ever met. The whole world knew it. There was no bringing that back. But at the same time, the experience drove home the lesson that life is fragile. My father died of a congenital defect and I’d been tested years before, so I knew I had the same issue and would likely need surgery at some point. A few years after Aletta’s death, my cardiovascular capacity suddenly dropped like a stone. I had the perpetual feeling that I was going to die, even though I could see on the scans that I wasn’t. My cardiovascular surgeon assured me that even though the surgery carried risks, I was an ideal candidate. I’d stayed in shape, never smoked, and ate a fairly healthy diet.” He rolled his eyes, then added, “Not as healthy as what Samuel insists on now, but overall, I was in good shape. In any case, my doctors warned me that decreased cardio capacity can trigger feelings of doom, but the sensation was petrifying. When I woke up following the surgery and the medication wore off, I was in the worst pain of my life, but that feeling of doom was gone. Recovery became my mission. I wanted to live. I wanted to accomplish things. I wanted to enjoy my children and grandchildren and experience all the richness of life while I could.”

 

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