In Love Again (Unruly Royals)

by Mulry, Megan

  “Yes, Mrs. Parnell. I received my degree in hotel management from Cornell.”

  “So the political life is not for you?” She set down the pen.

  “Well, I told my father that running a hotel requires its own form of diplomacy.”

  “Quite so,” she said.

  “He’s keeping up the tradition from his mother’s side of the family,” his uncle said proudly, as he turned the registration book back around.

  “Very true,” she said on a smile, then she looked around the lobby with aristocratic inspection. “Has everyone else arrived?”

  “Everyone except the marchioness,” Alistair’s uncle replied.

  “Not the marchioness for much longer. At this rate, none of us will have a title anymore.” She looked up at her untitled husband and laughed lightly. “The things we do for love, right, darling?”

  Jack touched her cheek. “Right, my dear.”

  Just then, another van pulled in from the airport and Claire stepped out, followed by her tall, attractive companion.

  “My, oh my,” Sylvia whispered.

  “He’s much too old for you, darling,” Jack teased.

  “Stop. He’s quite divine. Look how happy Claire looks. I’ve never seen her…” Something sad and brief passed over Sylvia’s face, then she was forcing a smile again.

  “She does have something more about her, doesn’t she?” Jack agreed, facing in the same direction.

  In a simple white T-shirt and pale green trousers, Claire reveled in the warm sunshine of the West Indies, looking up to the clear sky to feel it on her face before turning from the front of the hotel to enter the familiar main building. She supposed she should have been worn out from the flight from Philadelphia, but instead she felt energized. She was excited to see Sarah and Bronte. She was really excited to see Lydia. She was even excited to see her mother, who was there waiting by the front desk when Claire and Ben crossed the lobby.

  “Claire, dear!”

  “Mother!” She was trailing her wheelie bag behind her with one hand and holding Ben’s hand in the other.

  “Where’s the rest of your luggage?” Sylvia asked.

  “This is it!” Claire beamed, as if even that small victory was something she treasured about her newfound self-sufficiency. Letting go of the handle and releasing Ben, she reached out for her mother and pulled her into a firm hug.

  “Oh my!” Sylvia reached up to prevent her wide-brimmed sun hat from falling off. “What was that for?”

  Claire shrugged. “Just happy to see you, I guess.”

  Ben and Jack had already introduced themselves to one another, both staring at the two beautiful blond women in front of them.

  “What?” Sylvia and Claire both said at the same time, reaching up to adjust a stray bit of blond hair in exactly the same way.

  Claire laughed at their unconscious, identical gestures, then turned and said, “Mother, please allow me to present Dr. Benjamin Hayek.”

  Ben extended his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Parnell.”

  “We’re so glad you could join us. Please call me Sylvia. I’ve heard so much about you, Ben.”

  “Thank you again for including me.”

  Claire hugged her stepfather as well.

  “So much hugging,” he said quietly.

  “Yes,” she said in an equally subdued voice. “I’ve become a hugger. Who could have known?” Her smile felt like it was radiating all of her joy.

  They agreed to meet up for cocktails in the main lobby at half past six, then Sylvia and Jack said their temporary good-byes and walked toward their villa.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Claire asked quietly, more to herself than to Ben.

  He pulled her in for a quick kiss. “Wasn’t bad at all. She’s so much more relaxed than you led me to believe.”

  Claire reached for her bag and turned to Alistair. “You don’t need to show us out. I remember where it is.” She smiled, and he nodded. Claire had been coming to Lyford her entire life and knew every inch of the place. Even some of her rare happy times with Freddy had taken place here.

  Ben walked beside her as they headed back out into the bright tropical sunshine. “My mother’s changed,” Claire said softly. “In the best possible way.”

  “I have to admit…”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I always sort of blamed your mother for your abrupt departure that summer in France. I thought she got wind of our little romance and was there to put a stop to it.”

  Claire took a deep breath. “She probably was. But it wasn’t anything to do with you, per se.”

  “How could breaking us apart not be about me?”

  She looked up at him and they both stopped in the turn of the path. It was shady and a light breeze rustled through the palm fronds. “Ben.” She reached up one hand to his cheek and he closed his eyes.

  “It still hurts sometimes,” he said. “All the time we lost. I want to blame someone. Usually myself, for not trying harder, for not believing it was real—”

  “Ben, stop,” she interrupted, then stood up on the tips of her sandaled toes and kissed him lightly, barely tracing his lips with hers.

  He moaned into her, wanting more, but she pulled away gently. “Ben?”

  He opened his eyes. They were stormy with a mix of desire and something harsh or angry. “Like even that,” he said with mild irritation. “We could have been doing that for the past twenty years. Don’t you ever feel it boil up in you? I get…angry—”

  She smiled and licked her lips, repressing a laugh.

  “What? That’s funny?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Why?”

  She shook out her long blond hair then met his eyes again. “Because I think we both know you get angry and it’s not just because we were star-crossed lovers torn asunder by the wicked witch.”

  He smiled despite himself. “So I feel strongly about things.” He pulled her against him. “You like that about me,” he whispered near her ear, almost growling, “remember?”

  “I love everything about you,” she whispered in response. “I guess I’m so overwhelmingly grateful we found each other again—at all—that I don’t even think about the lost time. Or resenting mother. Or even hating Freddy…much. We’re together now.”

  He kissed her again, along her neck, then her jaw. Both of them were still holding their wheelie bags with one hand, and Claire used her free hand to push him gently away. “Stop. Or I won’t want you to.”

  “Good,” he grumbled, pulling away reluctantly.

  Her voice was slightly rough when she continued. “I’m not excusing my mother—oh, I don’t know; maybe I am—forgiveness feels so much better than resentment. Don’t you think?”

  Ben looked up to the trees and sky then back into Claire’s eyes. “Of course, in theory. But if I still feel the resentment, I can’t very well pretend that it doesn’t exist.”

  “I don’t want you to pretend anything. I just mean, look, marrying me off to Freddy was my mother’s job. It was her purpose in life, to get me to that altar. If that makes any sense.”

  “I know it here,” he tapped the side of his head, “but I still feel it with a lot of boiling anger here.” He rested his palm against his heart.

  “You are so beautiful,” she said out of nowhere.

  “Thanks. I think.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe another kiss would make me feel better?”

  She laughed lightly and was about to do his bidding when there was a rustle behind them, where a path joined theirs from another direction. One of the waiters came upon them, carrying a silver tray with a pitcher of something alcoholic and heading in the direction of their villa.

  “Good day, Lady Wick.”

  “Oh, hello, Georgie. How’ve you been?”

  “Quite well, thank you. Just bringing this to your villa, per Lady Lydia’s request.”

  Claire’s nose pinched. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

 
Georgie smiled, relieved he wasn’t going to have to be there to see the wrath of Lydia being deprived of her hourly rum infusion. “Very well. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

  “I will do. Thank you again.”

  Georgie turned back toward where he’d come from, and Ben and Claire continued in the direction they were going.

  “Are you ready?” Claire asked a few minutes later, her hand resting on the knob of the front door of the villa.

  Ben reached up to touch her cheek. “I’m sure Lydia’s wonderful, sweetheart. Don’t be so concerned. Even your mom seemed to approve of me. How hard could Lydia be?”

  Claire tried to smile but it wouldn’t really come.

  “Other than my…angry outbursts”—he winked and she smiled in earnest—“I tend to get along with people, remember?”

  Raising her eyes to the heavens, Claire tried to wrestle with the unexpected wave of emotion. “I know. That’s why it’s going to be so mortifying when Lydia’s rude and terrible to you, and you finally meet the one person on the planet with whom you cannot get along…”

  “Just open the door, darling. Give us all the benefit of the doubt. Yourself included.”

  Before Claire could turn the knob, the door swung open with Lydia nearly singing, “Alistair, is that you with the drinks—” Then her voice dropped an octave and she put a hand on her hip. “Oh, Mother.”

  “Hi, darling.” Claire let go of her luggage handle and reached to hug her daughter. Lydia held on to the doorknob and more or less permitted her mother to hug her. When Claire pulled away, Lydia stretched her neck a bit to see Ben.

  “And you must be the dentist.” Her tone was bored and dismissive.

  “And you must be the fuck-up.”

  Claire looked at the ground and wished she could crawl a few feet under the nearest gardenia bush. She was certain Lydia was going to snarl at his rudeness. How could Ben possibly—

  And then the most miraculous sound in the world—Lydia’s spontaneous laughter—spread through the gardenias and the palm trees and floated free into the Caribbean breeze. Claire looked up to see Ben and Lydia smiling at one another.

  “An honest man,” Lydia said. “How utterly refreshing.” She pulled the door wide to give them room to enter. “I took the smaller room to the left, obviously.”

  “Do you want the bigger room?” Ben offered. “Your mother and I don’t need much space between us.”

  “Ew! You don’t need to be that honest!” But she was still smiling. “Take the better room already.”

  And just like that, Claire felt so many terrible wounds begin to close. An honest man. Freddy had never been an honest man. The thought clung to her as she went into the beautiful, high-ceilinged white room and unpacked her small bag.

  Ben and Lydia were sharing a Coke when she came out a few minutes later. Claire had changed into her bikini and put on a sheer, lightweight cotton tunic. “Why don’t we all go for a swim in the sea?”

  Lydia shrugged. “I think I’ll stay here. I ordered some drinks and I wouldn’t want the guy to go to the trouble of delivering it and all.”

  “Oh, we saw him on the way and canceled the order. Too early in the day to be getting bombed, Lyd.”

  If Ben could be honest, why couldn’t Claire? She waited for the usual confrontation that would follow that type of interference, but it never came.

  Lydia shrugged. She looked younger somehow, like she might be slightly relieved to give up her usual occupation of always being on the lookout for someone trying to pull one over on her. Followed by a row. A cigarette. And a stiff drink. “Okay, then. Let me change and we can head down to the beach.”

  Lydia got up and went into her room.

  Ben put his soft drink on the coffee table and stood up. When he reached the door to their suite, he put his hands on Claire’s hips and held her in a firm grip. “I love you to distraction,” he whispered. “I think I love everything about you.”

  She softened against him, her back to his front. “Everything?” she teased.

  Chapter 24

  He dipped his head so his lips were close to her ear. “Yes, everything. Your stiff mother. Your angry daughter. And I especially love this bikini.” He let his hand ride up her thigh and under her cover-up, then dipped two fingers beneath the triangle of stretchy fabric at the apex of her thighs.

  She shuddered against him. “It’s just an old bathing suit…” But her voice petered out when he started kissing her neck and the turn of her ear. “Oh, Ben.”

  He pulled away reluctantly. “Let me change into my swim trunks before I do something embarrassing like haul you into that enormous bed and tell your daughter she’s on her own for a few hours.”

  “Mmm,” she hummed. Her eyes were still closed, even though he was no longer kissing her. His hands were steady at her waist. “A few hours in bed…doesn’t that sound divine…”

  “Back, temptress.” He gripped her harder then released his hold. She opened her eyes, glassy and wanting. Ben tapped the tip of her nose. “Go put on some sunscreen. I don’t want this beautiful skin getting any damage.”

  The three of them made their way down to the shore, where Devon and Sarah were already spread out on big towels with a couple of straw bags around them. Devon was lying down and Sarah was using his bent knees as a backrest. When she caught sight of Claire, Sarah leapt to her feet and bounded across the sand.

  “How are you?” she cried, pulling Claire into a quick hug, then releasing her. “And is this the infamous Ben Hayek?”

  Lydia rolled her eyes at all that absurd enthusiasm and kept walking toward a chaise a few feet away.

  “Yes,” Claire beamed. “My one and only.”

  Ben reached out to shake her hand. “You must be Sarah James.”

  “Yes, I must!” Her enthusiasm was infectious. Ben smiled widely in response.

  “Aren’t you something?” Sarah widened her eyes flirtatiously.

  Devon was standing by then, looking like he might rip Sarah’s hand from the other man’s grip. “And I’m Devon. Sarah’s husband.”

  If possible, Ben’s eyes sparkled even more. “Playing according to type, I see?”

  Sarah burst out laughing. “Priceless!” She clasped her hands together. “He’s horribly jealous!”

  Devon tried to look put upon, but he realized he was the only one who wasn’t making light of his insane jealousy so he plastered on a polite smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Ben.”

  “You too, Devon.”

  They shook one last time, and Sarah grabbed Devon’s hand in hers. “When are you going to remember I married you, you idiot?”

  “Remind me,” he growled, dipping into her neck to steal a kiss.

  “Oh dear god. Here we go with the lovey-dovey shite,” Lydia muttered as she inserted her earbuds and pulled her sun hat farther down to avoid all the tedious family around her.

  Claire smiled. She didn’t even know why. It should have made her flutter around and try to make sure everyone was getting along and see if there was something she could do to make Lydia feel more a part of everything. But it was fine. Everything was really fine. Ben was here and Sarah and Devon were being pretty annoyingly lovey-dovey, after all.

  “What are you smiling about?” Ben sat on the towel Claire had just set out for him.

  “You. Everything.” She gestured around. “It’s beautiful here. Everyone I love is here.” She looked at the sand between her feet. “And Freddy is not here.” She looked up at Ben to make sure it wasn’t going to upset him that that was part of what was making her feel so…light. “Is that okay?”

  Sarah and Devon had gone into the sea and Lydia was lost in her MP3 world.

  “Of course it’s okay.” Ben reached for her hand and they both leaned back on their elbows and faced out to the calm sea, watching Devon pester Sarah, splashing water in her face and driving her mad. “They look happy.”

  “They’re infants.” Claire hadn’t meant to sound so judgment
al, but it came out that way.

  “Maybe we should all try to be a little more infantile then.” He raised an eyebrow to challenge her.

  Claire looked at him for a few seconds, then flopped all the way back onto her towel and shut her eyes behind her sunglasses. Ben turned on his side so he could stare at her nearly naked body sparkling in the sun. She spoke quietly so only he could hear. “It’s been a lot of years of them all…not liking me…”

  Ben squeezed her hand. “That just can’t be true.”

  She smiled up at the sun and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. Claire had a moment of pure happiness. How wonderful—how imperative—to have someone who didn’t see you like the rest of your family did, someone who hadn’t been there every minute to catalog a lifetime of petty infractions, every childhood cruelty. Every adolescent bit of spite.

  “It’s true. I promise.”

  He brought her hand to his lips.

  “Not you too!” Lydia barked, pulling one earbud free. But—again, miraculously—she was smiling.

  Ben looked over his shoulder. “We’ll keep it PG, Miss Chaperone.”

  She lifted her chin. “Good.” After reinserting the earbud, she started bopping her chin to the beat of whatever she was listening to.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Ben asked.

  “It’s all the regular things I’ve already told you. It’s just—” Claire took a deep breath and it pushed her chest into an unintentional arch.

  “Don’t do that.” Ben’s voice was low and almost angry.

  She smiled, tilted her sunglasses up, and squinted at him. “Do what? This?” She arched her back as if she were stretching out a crick in her neck.

  “Seriously. Stop it right now or I’m going to toss you in the ocean.”

  She put the sunglasses back in place. “I’m too perfectly happy to taunt you further just now. But later, I’d love a toss.” Her smile was promising.

  “Anyway.” He hissed out a breath and tried not to stare at her tiny bikini top.

  “Anyway, I was the spoiled one. Or at least, that’s how I was always made to feel. Like I’d been trotted out on the town by my mother and the other three were…well, the other three.”