His Forbidden Princess (8 page)

“Do you think either of us could walk away without looking back?” Stepping back, Ian walked to the French doors and looked out. He was considering, but his lack of eye contact, his unwillingness to be close, gave Sofie her answer before he even said anything. “I think keeping a little distance is smarter. It’s going to be tough, considering we occasionally have to look like we’re a couple, but when you’re around, I don’t think straight.”

“I see. All right. It seems we keep making mistakes with each other. It’s like we’re taking turns.” She tried to breathe, but the air was thick, heavy. Much like her heart. “I suppose it would be best if we didn’t kiss each other anymore, then.” It was supposed to be a joke, but it didn’t feel funny—it felt more like a tragedy.

“I’m sorry about that kiss.” Ian shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgement. “I got a little out of control.”

Sofie nodded, folding her arms across her middle hoping to quiet the shaking in her belly.

It didn’t work. “I don’t think you ever kissed me like that. It was…what do Americans say? It was
hot
.”

“Yeah, well,” he said as he went towards the door to the hall. “I hadn’t ever missed you before. See you downstairs.”

It took a few seconds after Ian left the room that Sofie understood exactly how difficult their time together was going to be.

He took Sofie on a tour of the island. It was a safe activity that was easy to control, and he could talk to her about the first settlements, which she loved learning about, and let her see what was, in his opinion, one of New York’s hidden treasures. A drive around consisted of seeing the beaches, which were beautiful, having a look at some of the larger estates and a walk through town. He thought about taking her to the nature preserve, which occupied a huge part of the island, but it was too isolated. While people could pose a threat, he felt better having her in the open where he could fully assess the situation.

Ian also knew a quiet walk in the woods, alone with her, was not the way to keep his distance.

He was still thinking about their kiss. A kiss that was so hot he had passing thoughts about locking the door and staying in bed with her the entire day. And then her proposal? That they pick up where they left off for as long as they were stuck together? It was a bad idea.

Crazy. And he’d seriously considered it. He chalked it up to several things, not the least of which was he hadn’t been laid in a really long time. He was married to his job, and he didn’t do casual relationships as a rule. But the thought of being with Sofie again, to lose themselves in each other for however long it lasted, was very tempting.

And he couldn’t do it. He had to resist the pull for both of them.

All he could hope was that the part of him that was still broken from losing her was well hidden. The kiss, and his response, confessing how much he missed her was a big mistake, and he couldn’t afford any other mistakes. He told her the truth when he said he had to remain focused on her protection.

Feelings were a distraction they couldn’t afford.

“This is the most amazing place, Ian. It’s everything on one small island. Forests, beaches, resorts. Mansions and cottages. I can see why your family has made this their…what did you call it?”

“We call it the Homestead.” He glanced at her face, and enjoyed the bright smile and the sparkle in her eyes. Scrubbed clean of its heavy makeup, her natural beauty was breathtaking.

That was the girl he knew in school. One who favored old Levis to designer clothes, who almost never wore high heels.

“Why is it called that?”

“It’s home base. Like I told you, it’s been in the family a long time. If there’s an event, a holiday, anything, it’s the place we gather. Sometimes I come here when I know no one else is going to be around to do nothing except read and listen to the shore birds and the surf. It’s a great place to decompress.”

“Our chalet is like that. It’s so beautiful, no matter what the season. I prefer it to the palace. It’s smaller, more personal. My brother, sister, and I loved going on holidays there. It’s on a lake…” Her voice broke, betraying the strain on her emotions before she finished her thought.

“Tell me more about the chalet.” He could see she was thinking about her siblings—one who had been killed by the terrorists and one who was still injured—and while he knew talking about what was obviously a special place to them was going to bring back memories, it might help her focus on pleasant ones.

“It’s in the mountains. Umm…as I said, it’s smaller and more intimate than the palace in the city. It has large windows and terraces with views of Lake Effie and nothing but nature for as far as you can see. You’d love it there. It’s exactly what you said about your family’s house.

It’s a place to decompress. To get away from the real world.”

“What did you do when you were there?”

“In the winter we could ski or go snowmobiling. Sometimes we went tobogganing. If the lake was frozen enough, Papa would let us ice skate. But my mother was too nervous one of us would fall through, so skating was usually out.”

“Sounds great.”

“It was just fun. We had such a good time. There was usually only a minimal staff with us, and my parents made a point to stay away from work when we were there. It was nice to spend time as a family. We’d cook and do some chores and get to feel like kids. Not heirs. Not royals.”

“There had to be protection.” He couldn’t imagine them going to an isolated cabin

without security.

“There were always one or two people in the house, but they had their own space. And the grounds were well guarded, but we never saw anyone. The rule was to keep a low profile. It was nice.”

Her voice let him know her nerves had settled. “The great room was huge, paneled with wood, and had large comfortable furniture. You know, the kind you just sink into? We’d spend our nights there in the winter making popcorn in the fireplace and playing card games. My sister would sometimes draw. I always liked reading if I had nothing to do. It’s funny, I was never bored there. In the summer we’d swim in the lake as long as we were allowed, and then stay out in the garden toasting marshmallows and singing songs. We’d hunt…how do you

say…
firebugs?
”

“Lightning bugs…or fireflies. Me too. I’d catch them and my grandmother would always have a jar with holes poked in the top. She’d let me keep the jar in my room at night. It was the most amazing light show. And then the next day…”

“…you’d let them go.” Sofie smiled. God, was she gorgeous when she smiled. “I did the same. It sounds as though our childhoods were not so different after all.” Then she smiled.

Maybe it was at the memory, or maybe from the understanding that she was more normal than she ever thought. Ian had to admire her parents. They did their best to make sure their children had experiences similar to other children. Even one who was thousands of miles away.

“If I learned anything from my work and being in the military is that people are just people. Whatever their status, when you break it down, we’re more alike than different.”

“Spoken like an American.” She touched his arm reassuringly. “I mean no disrespect by that. In fact, I wish everyone thought that way. But status, as you call it, still rules how people live and behave in other parts of the world. That doesn’t mean populations are oppressed, but it’s different. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a pedestal, and I can’t imagine why anyone would put me there. I’m not special.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He could tell her a thousand ways she was special.

‘No, I’m not. I’m no different than any other woman doing a job and trying to find her place in the world. I want to be loved. I want a house full of children someday. I want my work to have meaning.” She was watching the scenery go by as she spoke. “But because my family has money and a name, because some distant relative won a battle here or there, somehow I’m more important than others. If you think about it, the insurgents are similar to your American patriots, except more violent. They want freedom. Aren’t they calling themselves
Freedom
Fighters
? They want equality. They don’t feel the need for figurehead monarchs who sap the nation’s resources.”

“Sofie, it’s not the same and the violence is the big reason. Not to mention they’re coercing your parliament, threatening attacks on civilians. You don’t murder people to get the majority to bend to your will. That’s terrorism. The citizens of Aubonne have one of the highest standards of living in the world. The highest literacy rate. Some of the best medical care. The demands being made are bullshit and the authorities in your country need to catch these bastards and make examples of them.”

“
The innocents
,” She uttered. “The people who are caught in the crossfire to make a point are my concern.”

“They should be, but what do you think would happen if the insurgents succeeded in

either killing your whole family, or driving you into hiding? Do you think the violence would stop?”

She swallowed hard? “Probably not, but maybe if we go into exile it will stop long

enough for the authorities, for Parliament to plan…something. I don’t want anyone hurt.” She looked his way. “Have you spoken to my father?”

“Not since yesterday.” Ian was hoping to hear from the Palace, but he kept his promise they were off the grid, so messages would be slow as they made their way through channels.

“We’re making arrangements for you to talk to him, though. And your mother and your sister.”

“She’s awake?”

“Not sure yet, but let’s think positively.” He wished he could tell her something, but there hadn’t been any news.

“I’m trying. It’s not always easy.”

They drove a little more, turning onto a coastal road and Ian pulled into a diagonal parking space. On one side of the street was a white sand beach. On the other side, was the place they were going to have lunch. The little beach shack called The Bayside had been there for as long as he could remember and served the best lobster rolls south of Maine. He threw the Jeep into park and smiled at her.

“Here we are.”

Sofie surveyed her surroundings similar to the way any professional would have. She knew the drill—then she went for the obvious. “Okay. I see the beach and that view looks familiar. It’s very much like the one from the house, but where are we, exactly?”

Ian thumbed over his shoulder, directing her gaze to the small weathered building behind him. “That’s where we’re having lunch.”

Her eyes bugged out and it made him chuckle. The Bayside was not the prettiest place on the island, but it had the best casual food and looking across the beach, it had the best ambiance.

“I promise you’re going to thank me later.”

“I am? Are you certain?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

They exited the car and Ian took her hand, out of sheer instinct, as they crossed the street.

Sofie didn’t pull away and as much as he knew he shouldn’t have reached for her, he was glad she’d relaxed a bit with him.

Once they walked into the small, fenced outdoor eating area, through the dappled sun provided by the colorful umbrellas shading the tables, Ian felt like he’d come home. The sharp voice from the back of the restaurant was the other. “Ian Stuart. You rotten kid. Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, my goodness,” Sofie said quietly. “I didn’t realize you were a celebrity.”

“I waited tables here when I was in high school. Made enough money in tips one

summer to buy a sweet car.”

“That’s lovely. And the person screaming at you?”

“Patty. She and her husband own the place. Dropped out of their crazy lives in New York and moved out here about twenty years ago.”

Patty had come out of the open kitchen and was approaching quickly. He hadn’t seen her in five years, but she looked very much the same as the last time he’d been to The Bayside. Her shoulder length, dark hair was pulled back and her large, dark eyes were full of mischief. She reached out and wrapped him in a hug.

Then she smacked him on the arm. It was all he could do not to laugh when Sofie’s eyes went wide. “How many times have you been home and you haven’t been down to see me?

What’s that all about?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.”

“Damn right.” Patty’s eyes turned and looked Sofie up and down. It was the moment of truth. “And you brought a friend. I’m Patty. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Sofie.” She shook hands without hesitation.

“This is Sofie Luzano.” Time to try it on for size. “My girlfriend.”

“It is about damn time.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I love seeing all Ian’s old haunts. This is such a lovely island.”

Patty’s eyes narrowed. Sofia was speaking in perfect British English, but there was a hint of Italian in her speech, just enough to make his old boss wonder about the woman he was with.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re not from around here, are you, Sofie?”

“No,” she said, looking to him for guidance, but then making a snap decision. “I’m

Swiss.”

Perfect. There wasn’t a person around here who would question she was from

Switzerland.

Patty grabbed her arm. “Switzerland. Like where they make chocolate?”

Sofie nodded. “Yes, the Swiss, the Belgians, the Dutch. There’s some lovely chocolate in that part of Europe.”

Patty dropped her head in mock worship, then looked at Ian and nodded. “I like her. She can stay.” He was glad to see that Sofie was enjoying the attention, and not finding Patty insulting. “Go sit down, I’ll bring out your usual. Two?”

“Yes. Thanks.” He guided Sofie to a small umbrella table that faced the beach. It was still early in the season, technically not even summer yet, and since it was a weekday, everything was pretty quiet. There were only three other tables occupied in the whole place.

“Your usual?” she said as he pulled out her chair.

“I get the same thing every time I come in for lunch. You’re having it, too. You need to sample the local fare.”