With two large steps, they were face to face. “Are you getting attached to her already?”
Malachi’s eyes narrowed. “She’s my wife. I’m supposed to get attached, aren’t I?”
“Have you slept with her already? You met less than twenty-four hours ago.”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
His father leaned in a bit more closely. “Keep your distance, Mal. She may be your wife, but you don’t have to be close to her. Have your fun elsewhere, just be discreet and careful.”
Malachi snorted. “Like you? Everyone knows you were in love with someone who wasn’t your wife. I have no intention of following in those footsteps.”
“It’s been many years since I’ve been with anyone but your mother. Almost two decades. Since before I was crowned king. You will never be king. And you never vowed your fidelity.”
Malachi just stared at his father. “Seriously? Because I’ll never be king, I can cheat on my wife? Will you tell William the same thing? Will you tell his bride that before you sign the marriage contract? Did you tell Jessabelle’s father I wouldn’t be faithful?”
“He was my best friend for several years. He knows the royal family often has mistresses.”
“Will you tell Yvette she can cheat on her husband? Or he can fool around on her? What if there’s a baby? Do you claim the child?” Something flashed across the king’s face, but Malachi didn’t have time to figure out what it was before it was gone. “It’s insane. I’m not cheating on my wife.”
He turned to walk away but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get too close to her, Mal. Keep your distance. Do not get physically involved with the girl.”
Malachi searched his father’s dark blue eyes. Something deeper was going on, but he knew from experience his father wouldn’t give up anything until he was ready. Shrugging off his hand, Malachi left the conference room to find his mother and his wife sitting in chairs at right angles to each other. Jessabelle was perched on the edge, fiddling with the rings on her left hand. Even though he didn’t know her well, he knew extreme discomfort when he saw it, and he knew it was time for him to be her knight in shining armor.
“Mia Belle?” Where did that come from? Fortunately, she looked up, and he held out his hand. “My parents wanted to join us for breakfast, but I have a surprise for you, so we’re not going to be able to.” Such a surprise he didn’t even know what it was just yet.
Jessabelle turned to his mother. “It was lovely chatting with you, and I hope to have a chance to get to know you better soon.” She slid her hand into his and stood. “Have a safe trip back to the palace.”
Malachi let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, proud of her poise. His mother stood as well. He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Thank you for coming, Mother. Safe journey.” Light pressure urged Jessabelle toward the bedroom, but she didn’t need much urging. As soon as they were through the door, he closed it behind them and dropped his arm. “Are you all right?”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
“My mother wasn’t rude?”
“Not particularly. We didn’t say much of anything to each other.” Jessabelle moved away from him. “Your father?”
Malachi shook his head. “Nothing for you to worry about.” Though he sure would. “Just my father being...” He gave a shrug. “...the king. He has very specific ideas and isn’t real crazy when someone doesn’t ask how high when he says to jump.”
“Are you defying him on something?”
“No.” Not really. “He’s got a strong opinion about something. I happen to have the opposite opinion. I also happen to know my opinion is biblically sound. He knows his isn’t, but that doesn’t always stop him.”
“Is there anything I can do?” She turned to face him.
Malachi shook his head, grateful for the offer.
“Can I ask you something?” Her head twisted slightly to the side.
“Sure.”
“What did you call me?” She conveyed genuine curiosity.
“Mia Belle.”
“Why?”
He to stand in front of the fire, motioning for her to have a seat if she wanted. “No real reason, except Jessabelle is a mouthful. You said one grandmother was Jessica and another was Isabelle. I didn’t think Jessa or Belle fit you. Elle was better, but still not right.” With one hand, he reached out to move the hair off her face. “But Mia Belle? It means ‘my beautiful.’ It fit.”
Her head ducked, and she turned that pretty shade of pink. He kind of liked being able to make her blush.
“Do you have a nickname?”
“My family calls me Mal sometimes.”
“Do you like it?”
“Not particularly.”
“Why not?”
“In Spanish, it means something is bad.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’s not a good nickname.” Suddenly bold, she looked him in the eye. “I think I’ll call you Kai then. Like your great-grandmother, if you think it’ll be okay with her.”
He ran his fingers down her arm and took her hand. “I think she’d be pleased.”
“Did you know Kai means rejoice in Finnish.”
Malachi chuckled. “How do you know what Kai means in Finnish?”
“This guy in high school did a presentation on his family history and the meanings of their names. It also means ocean in Hawaiian. There’s several other meanings, too, like strong or triumphant or food. But I don’t remember which languages.”
Strong. Triumphant. Rejoice. Malachi liked those, and he liked that Jessabelle would call him that. He moved closer to her, glad she hadn’t taken a seat. “I like that, Mia Belle.”
Another blush. “I do, too.”
Tipping her chin up, he bent over and covered her lips with his. A second kiss for the record books. A small mewl sounded in the back of her throat as she slid her arms around his waist. One of his hands anchored on her lower back, holding her close, as the other hand ran up her back to cup her neck. The kiss built, and Malachi longed to take it further, but his father’s words niggled in the back of his mind.
Do not get physically involved with the girl.
“The girl” was his wife. But something about his father’s words made him loosen his grip on her and reduce the intensity. “I don’t really have a surprise,” he confessed, feathering kisses against her eyelids. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” Her breathy voice made him want to kiss her again, but he couldn’t let himself.
“Then why don’t you go freshen up, and I’ll have breakfast sent in here. Leave them wondering about what it could be.”
His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. She continued to hold onto him as she rested her head against his chest. After a few moments, she stepped back. “That was nice. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He started to walk to the closet but turned. “What would you say if we did something a bit crazy?”
“Crazy?”
Malachi turned the idea over in his head. “We don’t have to stay here. We don’t have to go to one of the other residences, and I know you said you’d never been to this part of the country, but what if we took off all together? With your father’s health, I can’t imagine you would want to go to a whole different hemisphere, but we have homes in both Montevaro and Ravenzario. What if we went to Ravenzario? Our house is on the far southern end, right on the Mediterranean.”
Jessabelle nodded. “I think that would be wonderful.”
He smiled at her. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter 8
Jessabelle walked up the steps to the family plane the next afternoon. She didn’t know if Prince Malachi had told his father, or if he’d objected to their flight out of the country. He’d seemed to like the idea of Kai as a nickname, but she still hadn’t worked up the nerve to call him anything yet. She would be most comfortable calling him Prince Malachi, but she didn’t think he would like that. Malachi seeme
d too casual. Kai really seemed too casual, and she still had no idea what she’d been thinking when she suggested it.
Mia Belle she liked.
A steward showed her where to sit and handed her a folder. “A guest flyer packet for your first trip, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She maneuvered the seat belt into position as Prince Malachi chuckled.
“We’re not quite that ready to go yet. Would you like something to drink? Perhaps a glass of wine?”
After she nodded, he poured her a glass of Mevendian Moscata, a high quality brand she’d never tried before. Ten minutes later, the steward gave a final warning if either of them needed to use the restroom. Five minutes after that, she was pressed back into her seat as the plane took to the sky. The flight didn’t take long and in just a couple of hours, they were back on the ground, being whisked through a Ravenzarian town in the back of a limo. The gates opened in front of them, and Jessabelle got her first look at the house. Not nearly as large or grandiose as the country home where they’d spent the night before, it was still far beyond any other place she had ever been. Would she ever get used to the opulence?
They were greeted by a couple of staff members Malachi hugged like long-lost grandparents.
“I wish we could have been there,” the gentleman told Malachi.
“It was short notice,” Jessabelle’s new husband pointed out. “I know you would have been there if you could.”
Jessabelle stood behind him and a bit to the side, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Instead, Malachi turned and reached toward her, wordlessly urging her forward.
“Mr. Rappellino, Mrs. Rappellino, I would like to introduce you to my wife. This is Jessabelle. Jessabelle, Mr. and Mrs. Rappellino. They have worked for my family for many years.” He winked at her. “Mrs. Rappellino always makes extra dessert.”
Mrs. Rappellino laughed. “Because you love it, dear.” She reached for Jessabelle, dispensing with any formality from the very beginning. “I am so very glad to meet you,” she whispered in Jessabelle’s ear. “I look forward to getting to know you while you’re here.”
“I do, too.” Jessabelle hoped her words sounded sincere. In reality, she had no idea if she wanted to get to know the other woman or not, but it seemed she would have little choice.
“Let me show you to your room.” Mrs. Rappellino took Jessabelle’s purse from her and led the way to the grand staircase. “You’ll be in the room Malachi always uses when he’s here. It has its own bathroom and a balcony with a gorgeous view of the Mediterranean sunsets.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jessabelle told her honestly. She’d always loved sunsets.
“And you’ll need to let me know what your favorite meals are so I can prepare them for you while you’re here.”
“Oh, I like pretty much anything,” she told the other woman.
“No matter. I want to make the kinds of foods you enjoy.” She peppered Jessabelle with question after question about her preferences in food, drinks, desserts, and anything else she could think of. “Your luggage will be delivered shortly.”
Jessabelle was stunned when Mrs. Rappellino gave her another hug.
As Mrs. Rappellino backed off, she said “Malachi will be up shortly, I’m certain. If you need anything at all, please let me know.”
“I will,” Jessabelle replied, watching the other woman as she left. She turned and opened the French doors, walking out onto the balcony. The breeze coming off the Mediterranean was a bit chilly, but with her long sleeves, felt nice. Malachi had been right. The view was gorgeous.
“You like it?”
She turned to see Prince Malachi standing in the middle of the room. With his feet about shoulder width apart and his arms crossed in front of him, he made quite a figure. Obviously an athlete, she had a feeling he did more than just play sports with his brother or friends. He likely worked out regularly. She hoped he wouldn’t make her feel like “less than” since she rarely did.
“I do,” she finally answered. “The view is spectacular.”
“It’s nicer in the summer,” he told her walking across the room until he, too, stood on the balcony. “Right now, it’s really too cool to eat out here, and, of course, swimming is out of the question at the moment.”
“I can imagine.” She hesitated before going on. “I love being in the water, but I never really learned how to swim.”
Prince Malachi grinned. “Then I will teach you. Once the weather warms to swimming weather, we will have a few lessons. I am a fair swimmer myself.”
Something niggled in the back of her mind. “Didn’t you swim competitively?”
He chuckled. “I did, though it is not nearly as impressive as it sounds.”
She tilted her head. “It’s not?”
“No. I did swim for my school team, and did quite well, overall. I would have done better if I could have kept my toes positioned right while doing the breast stroke.” His dark eyes twinkled at her. “My coach was always the one that had to tell me I had been DQ’d.”
“DQ’d?” Was she going to have to learn a whole new language just to learn to swim?
“Disqualified.” He leaned his forearms against the railing on the outer edge of the balcony. “None of the stroke judges wanted to be the one to tell the prince he had flutter kicked once.”
She didn’t ask for another definition. He must have been kicking wrong, though she’d had no idea such a thing were possible.
“Now, Mrs. Rappellino told me lunch was ready as soon as we are. Nothing fancy, she said, but whatever she makes is always delicious.” He extended his elbow her direction. “Shall we?”
Jessabelle felt a bit ridiculous, but slid her hand into place. The fluttering sensation she had felt before returned, but she didn’t analyze it. She just hoped to make it through lunch without throwing up.
* * *
What had he been thinking? Offering to teach his wife to swim? Would she be interested, or was she just saying that because she thought he wanted her to? And they would have to be close to each other for him to help. That would be a problem unless she got much more comfortable with him. She also did not seem like the type to be comfortable in the water in general. That could take some work on its own.
He held her chair as they sat down to the meal Mrs. Rappellino had prepared. As he expected it was a quiet meal. His new wife didn’t seem compelled to talk much.
“What would you like to do while we’re here?” he asked as they waited for dessert.
Jessabelle shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t know what there is to do.”
“We could go shopping in town or sightseeing in the countryside. There are some ruins not too far away. We could also go skiing for a couple of days.”
“I don’t know how to do that either,” she admitted. “I’ve always wanted to learn, though.”
He gave her one of his best smiles. “Then let me see what we can sort out.” He would call Carson, his personal assistant later, and have him make the arrangements, including time with an instructor they could trust. “We could see about visiting Queen Christiana?” She would probably have some great suggestions for charity work, but Malachi was not sure he wanted to spend his honeymoon doing charity work.
Jessabelle just shrugged. “Whatever you want to do.”
Malachi let it drop for the time being but made up his mind to look online for good ice breakers or fun topics to discuss with your spouse. When they wrapped up the meal, he apologized to her. “I am very sorry, Jessabelle, but the suddenness of our wedding made it impossible for me to rearrange everything I had on the schedule. I do have a phone meeting this afternoon for a charity event coming up in a few months. Make yourself at home, all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
A few minutes later, he sat in the office he used while here, with the phone in one hand.
“Good afternoon, Malachi.” Lizbeth Bence was his co-chair for this particular event. In fact,
they often attended banquets and balls together, though it had never been a romantic relationship. He had never even kissed her or held her hand for anything other than a dance.
They talked for several moments before including the events’ coordinator from the venue where the fundraiser would be held.
Afterward, as much as he hated to, Malachi spent a couple of hours working on a variety of things. If he could get them wrapped up, he would be able to ignore the official side of his life for the rest of their honeymoon.
Dinner was ready before he had a chance to look up some conversation starters. It should not be this hard to have a conversation with any other person on the planet, but it was. Dinner was full of awkward silences and stilted answers. Finally, he suggested a movie. They sat on the same couch, but several inches apart. They were only that close because Malachi sat down second, but he did not want to push her too much too quickly.
He did want to kiss her again.
So after both of them changed into pajamas, he did just that. Not long, but a short, sweet, kiss. He let her go to bed by herself, opting to read a book his father recommended in another room until she had a chance to get settled.
He would sleep on top of the sheet again.
The next few days followed a similar pattern. Things remained quiet and awkward during their time together. They went window shopping in town, but no matter what Malachi offered to buy her, Jessabelle was not interested. No shoes. No clothes. No jewelry. All she bought was a small key chain as a memento and she bought that herself while he was in another part of the souvenir shop. They spent two days skiing in the more northern portion of the country. Conversations there came a bit more readily, but mainly consisted of discussion about the resort or the skiing itself.
They returned to the house in southern Ravenzario for two more days where Malachi found several emails from Lizbeth with items that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible. He spent the next two days doing far more work and spending far less time with his bride than he wished.
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