chapter 33
Fitz rode as fast as his horse would carry him. He was a highly skilled equestrian, having been trained by a few of Europe’s best teachers, and his days with the Belgian Army taught him everything he needed to know about finding his way in strange places.
He stayed off the main roads, instead forging his way through heavily wooded areas, across streams, and through many uninhabited areas of France, all the while counting the minutes until he could see Anna-Maria again and hold his children.
. . .
When a few days passed without any word, Anna-Maria started to give up hope.
Surely she’d receive word from Liam soon.
When night began to fall on the forth day, she tucked the children in bed, trying to decide whether it was time to tell them it was unlikely their father would ever be found. Despite knowing in her heart he was still alive, it was difficult to hold onto hope when she had no proof beyond her intuition.
Anna-Maria set a kettle on for tea. A soothing cup before she went to bed would do her good. That was when she heard a horse approaching the cottage.
Liam? she wondered. But it seemed like an odd hour for him to arrive, unless he had bad news that couldn’t wait. She pushed her heavy heart aside and opened a cupboard, pulling out the pistol Liam left with her. Just in case. She took the heavy weapon and tucked it into her skirt, listening carefully while the hooves slowed.
She peered out the window and saw a man dismount. It was too dark to see his face at first. But when he looked up and toward the cottage, the clouds shifted and the moon shone down brightly, and for a moment she thought she was imagining who she saw.
Her heart quickened, and her hands shook as she ran to the door and flung it open.
“Fitz!” she said, running from the cottage and throwing herself into his arms.
“My darling,” Fitz held her, his face in her hair, breathing her in.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” she sobbed, and Fitz cupped her face and kissed the tip of her nose.
“My precious wife, you are more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.” Then he leaned in and kissed her deeply. She encircled his neck with her arms and pulled him closer. She could feel how much weight he’d lost, but she set the worry aside for now, happy and deeply grateful for whatever madness had overcome her and given her that dream.
“Come inside,” she said suddenly, fear rising to choke her. “What if someone sees you?”
“No one followed me. Whoever did this is busy getting ready to take over the monarchy, so we are safe here for now. But I do want to see the children. Are they well?”
Fitz took her hand and led her inside.
“They are as well as they can be, but they have missed you sorely, as have I.” She smiled up at him as they stepped inside.
“They are asleep behind that door,” she pointed and then said, “If you wake them they’ll be so thrilled.”
Fitz shook his head, “No, let them sleep. We shall surprise them in the morning. For now, I want nothing more than to see their sweet, sleeping faces.”
Quietly he eased the door open, the sight of them nearly taking his breath away. Love for them and for his wife swamped him, strengthened by his overpowering gratitude for whatever miracle brought him home to them.
He closed the door and, a little misty-eyed, opened his arms again to his wife.
“All I thought about the entire ride over was how it would feel to hold you in my arms again,” he said softly, and Anna-Maria held to his hand and led him to their bedroom.
As they entered the room, Fitz closed the door quietly behind her, swept her into his arms and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as though it was the first time. Anna-Maria unbuttoned his shirt, stroking his chest.
“Oh, my love,” she said. “Fitz, my darling, did they never feed you? How did you find the strength to ride to us?”
“I’ll be fine.” He skimmed his mouth up her cheeks to her hair and, pushing it aside, kissed her neck, then shoulders, then pushed her dress down farther, working the buttons as he went. It was a less complicated dress than she usually wore, and it fell easily to the ground, exposing her undergarments.
“My darling, how I love you,” he said as she pushed his shirt off and began unbuttoning his trousers. She could feel his need for her, and she was frantic to be skin to skin with him, to feel him inside her, to feel one with this man she adored.
“Every moment I was apart from you,” he whispered, “I could think of nothing else but this moment when we would be together again.” He paused and then continued, “Even if it would never happen, the hope that it might kept me alive.”
Anna-Maria choked back a sob, “Oh, Fitz.” She tucked her forehead against his neck and kissed his warm skin, grateful to God and whatever else brought this man back to her.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her onto the bed and lowering himself on top her, his mouth on hers, his tongue playing with hers. Then he skimmed his lips along her throat, along her jaw to her ear, humming and murmuring. She felt the dual stimulation of the stroking lips and the vibration of his hum, and she hissed out a breath and clutched at him, the only anchor in a spinning world.
He skimmed his lips down her body, past her breasts to her flat belly, and then below. First to her thighs, and then to her core, trailing his lips and tongue down the same path, along her silken skin, while she moaned, clinging to him as his tongue trailed farther down.
When he softly licked her quivering bundle of nerves the first time, she gasped, quivered, and gripped his hair. He licked her, gently at first, and then his tongue was inside her, tasting her. He spread her thighs wider, and she moaned out his name.
At the sound of her precious voice, love, longing and desire slammed into him. He needed to be inside her, now.
But he waited, wanting to hear her pleasure first. He kissed her inner thighs, then licked them, then kissed them again. Then he worked his way back up her body. She grabbed his face and kissed him, and he savored the natural flavors of her sweet mouth and the juices of her nether lips.
He hovered over her, reveling a breathless moment of quivering expectation before he plunged into her.
She arched her back. “Fitz,” she whispered, her voice deep and heavy with desire. He slid into her, slowly at first, then she rocked into him and lifted her hips up to meet his, until the friction was so hot and the smells so intense, his entire body clenched with longing.
He kissed her deeply while he moved inside her, could hear her whispering his name, telling him she was close, so close. When he gripped her hips hard and shifted her, changing the angle so he could go even deeper, she burst into a thousand pieces.
He was right behind her.
chapter 34
Peter didn’t want to leave Emma’s side, but the idea of what he had done—and what he was about to do with the NYPD—made it impossible to deny himself the pleasure of witnessing what was about to happen.
He rode with Detective Beckett and several other unmarked police cruisers onto the tarmac at JFK just as the Belgian royal jet landed. He got out of the black car and stood, by himself, while the jet taxied and the airport staff wheeled up the ramp.
The police officers remained inside the police cruisers, so Peter alone awaited his fiancée on the tarmac.
When Alexandra stepped off the plane and saw Peter, a mixture of surprise and elation crossed her face.
“Darling!” She waved at him and smiled archly, turning his stomach.
He walked over to the bottom step and took her hand, and as he did, Detective Beckett and several other officers emerged from the cruisers.
“Who are these people?” she asked, trying to wrench her hand from his iron grip.
“They’re here to arrest you, you witch,” Peter hissed at her, pinning her with his glare
while, for the first time he looked deep into her eyes and saw the centuries of hatred that boiled in them.
Then he said, “I know what you did.” And for a split second, the words didn’t seem like his own, as though someone else was saying them. “You are finally going to a place where you can never hurt us again.”
“Alexandra Dalca, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Emmeline Avery.” Detective Beckett stepped forward as one of the other police officers grabbed Alexandra’s arm and Peter released her hand so she could be handcuffed.
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about?! What is this? I’ve come here to support my fiancé, and I have no idea what you’re talking about?!” She was rambling, and Peter had to smile. For once her icy composure was cracking.
“We got a confession from the guy you hired to kill Ms. Avery, and thanks to Peter here, we got you on US soil so we can arrest you.”
Alex spun her head to face him. “You bastard! You stupid, fucking bastard!” she yelled, “Do you really think you can be happy with that whiny, puling excuse of a woman? I wish she had died!” Alex screamed.
Peter slapped her. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you,” he said and then walked to one of the other police cruisers and was driven off the tarmac while Alex was loaded into the police car and taken downtown for booking.
Soon it would hit the news that the Prince of Belgium’s fiancée had tried to arrange the murder of his former lover, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but getting back to Emmeline.
chapter 35
Emma was anxious to get back to her time, but being reunited with Fitz and then watching Fitz’s reunion with his children was one of the loveliest things she’d ever witnessed.
When the children woke up the next morning, they emerged to see their father standing in the large room smiling at them. They flew into his arms with tears and cheers while Anna-Maria allowed her happy tears to stream unchecked down her face.
Emma knew they were going to be all right, that her work was done. Still, it was hard to return. Yet from some distant place she could hear their voices. Her grandfather, Peyton, and Peter. All of them by her side, talking to her.
She missed them terribly, but she knew she’d miss Fitz and Anna-Maria, too. This wasn’t her home, though, and it was time she returned to the people who loved her.
Two days after Alexandra was arrested and news of the murderous fiancée spread like wildfire across the globe, Emma awoke to find Peter sitting in a chair right next to her bed, reading.
Although the room was bright, almost too bright, she exerted the tremendous effort required to turn her head and look directly at Peter, and said, “Hi.”
When he looked up with a stunned and then delighted expression, she willingly relinquished Anna-Maria, Fitz, and the children to their past and joined the present moment, overjoyed that she’d been able to help the King and his Queen have their much-deserved happily ever after.
Peter dropped his book and leapt to his feet, gripping Emma’s hand, “Oh, my God, Emmeline, my love. You’ve come back!” Then he turned to a sleeping figure in the corner.
“Peyton!” he said loudly, but Emma’s cousin grumbled and nestled down further into her comfy chair.
Peter raised his voice even more. “Peyton, you don’t want to miss this. Look who’s awake!”
chapter 36
“We don’t know why you were out for so long, Emma,” Doctor Shepherd said later while checking her vitals, “but we’re glad you’re back.”
“Yes, we are,” Marcel smiled brightly.
“Grandpa,” Emma reached out a hand and took his.
She winked at Astrid, “I see you’ve been taking excellent care of my grandfather, so thank you. In my experience, it’s no easy task.”
Astrid gave Emma one of her sweet, motherly smiles and said, “Of course, dear.”
Then the doctor said, “She may have just returned like Sleeping Beauty, but Emma is going to need a lot of rest during recovery, so it’s time to clear the room.”
“Of course,” Peter said, bending over to kiss Emma’s forehead. “I’ll be back, my love.” Emma thought her heart would burst with the promise she heard in his words.
“May I stay behind for a moment, Doctor?” Peyton asked, and he nodded.
“But not long. She’s still healing, and plenty of rest is the most important component.”
After everyone else left and the door was closed, Peyton poured her a glass of water with a built-in straw, pulled up a chair and said, “Now, wet your whistle, and then tell me what happened, I mean while you were out.”
Emma took a few sips of water and licked her lips. It was still a bit hard to talk, and her chest was painfully tight from the wound and bandages. But Peyton had seen her through this, and shouldn’t have to wait any longer to satisfy her curiosity. “It was so easy to go back, but for a while I couldn’t remember what I’d learned here, I mean about where Fitz was kept. The longer I stayed with Anna-Maria, the harder it was to remember.”
Peyton nodded, “I was afraid of that, but you did…finally, I mean?”
“Check Wikipedia,” Emma croaked, and Peyton immediately pulled out her phone. Sure enough, the entry regarding HRH Fitzgerald and Anna-Maria had changed.
“They truly did live happily ever after,” Peyton began, her voice tight with emotion. “This entry says Fitz lived to be ninety-eight years old and died a week after Anna-Maria.”
Of course, Emma thought.
“What else?” Emma asked. “What else has changed?”
Peyton shrugged, “It’s hard to tell at first glance, but I don’t expect a lot. I mean, Belgium is still a country, near as I can tell.”
Then she looked up with a mischievous grin and winked at her cousin. “Oh, and Alex has been arrested,” Peyton added with a smug look.
Emma tried to sit up but collapsed back onto her pillow. “What?? Arrested?!”
“For almost killing you.”
Emma frowned, “When did this happen?”
“Two days ago. Apparently she hired a guy and did a piss-poor job of covering her tracks. Bitch probably thought she was too important to be questioned.”
Emma stared up at the ceiling, frowning. “Then this wasn’t an accident…” Her voice trailed off, while disbelief gripped her. Certainly Alex had been no fan of hers, but to plan her murder was so far beyond anything she could have anticipated. It boggled the mind.
“I don’t know if this had anything to do with your ‘work’ in the past,” Peyton said, using air quotes, “or if karma finally bit her in the ass, or if it’s simply that some people are their own undoing.”
chapter 37
Emma was released from the hospital two weeks later with strict instructions to take it easy and continue to recover. Peter, having been freed of his obligation to marry, moved back to New York to take care of Emma, even though they both knew he could have easily hired someone to do it. The truth was, he never wanted to leave her side again.
The scandal had waned somewhat. But there was still the trial, which would once again put the whole mess in the spotlight. Alex, however, would not be allowed bail, since she was considered a flight risk given her considerable means. Sebastian Dalca had already written off his daughter even before the King had him escorted from the palace grounds.
Though some things had subtly changed because of the “tweaking” Emma did to the past, most of the repercussions were restricted to Belgium’s history.
“I’ve set you up in a room downstairs,” Peter said when they arrived at his mansion. “I suspect perhaps stairs might be too much for you for a while.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Emma, I’m so glad to have you here.”
Emma cocked her head. “Peter, if it’s all right with you, I would rather stay upstairs in your room. Unless
there’s some reason it’s not a good idea.” She tried to suppress a grin and failed.
“We haven’t had a chance to talk about the future, have we?” he asked, inching closer.
She shook her head, “No, and that wasn’t a nudge to do so now. It’s just…I’ve just…I’ve missed you so much, Peter.” She reached up and wove her fingers through his dark hair, reveling in how wonderful it was to be able to touch him again.
“And I you, more than you could possibly know.”
As he leaned down to kiss her, a knowing clicked into place inside her. Forever. This was forever. However they would live the rest of their lives, Emma was certain they would do it together.
“The doctor said I could go back to my normal routine, as long as I don’t overdo it.” She wiggled her eyebrows as he took a step back and cocked his head.
“What were you thinking?” He tried to suppress a grin.
“Come upstairs and I’ll show you,” she said, sauntering past him to the grand staircase.
“No, no, that’s a bad idea.”
Emma turned in surprise. “What do you mean?”
And then Peter swooped her up, and carried her to his bedroom.
chapter 38
“Follow me, my love,” Peter said, taking Emma’s hand and leading her through the grounds of his palace.
They were back in Belgium while Peter prepared to take over the crown. Though some things were changed because of Emma’s journey to the past, his older brother had still run off and married, leaving Peter to run the country.
Emma recovered at Peter’s mansion in the Hamptons for a month, but mostly they spent their days together, walking the grounds and talking about their future. Though nothing had been made official one way or the other, Emma was certain they’d be together somehow.
A Royal Affair Series: Book 1, 2, and 3: A paranormal, time travel, royal romance Page 25