The Making of a Princess (13 page)

“Elayna?” Somehow Amanda wasn’t reassured by the woman’s involvement. Carlo’s attitude was general displeasure. As Xavier’s new love interest, Elayna had specific reason to dislike Amanda. “She really doesn’t like me.”

He reclaimed her hand, planted a heated kiss in the palm. When she glared her dissatisfaction, he leaned close to kiss the corner of her mouth. “If you want to dispel curiosity, then I suggest you remember we are supposed to be lovers who have found a moment to be together. It would be best not to look as if you wish to gut me like a fish.”

He had a point, but that only made her want to punish him. And what better way than by playing along? He was so close she had only to tilt her head and press her lips against his.

He went still, obviously surprised by her aggression. But he quickly adjusted. From one heartbeat to the next, he went from frozen to steaming hot, angling his mouth over hers and sinking into her.

Maybe this hadn’t been her best idea.

Then his tongue tangled with hers and she thought it was her best idea ever.

Heat deepened and bloomed between them. And suddenly the last week disappeared and they were just a man and a woman acting on a mutual attraction. It felt too good to care, and she snuggled into his strength, letting him chase away her worries.

“Uh oh,” a female voice twittered. “Maybe we should give them a little privacy.”

Her pulse already tripping at triple speed, being caught necking by the Princess’s shopping buddies sent heat flooding to cheeks already hot from passion. Instinctively Amanda pulled back, but Xavier followed, drawing the kiss out, putting on a good show for the ladies.

But at the same time it felt so real, too much of a good thing, when Amanda needed to remember anything between them was over. No matter how she might wish it was different.

“We are in a public coffee house, there is no privacy.” Bernadette’s tone clearly stated there would be no leaving the lovers alone. “Ah, our refreshments. What a lovely assortment of coffees, teas and pastries.”

This time Amanda put more effort into ending the embrace. When he sat back, she was happy to see the attention had shifted away from Commandant LeDuc and his guest to the elaborate display the proprietor had provided for the royal shopping party. A six foot long cart held a variety of teas and coffees and a hostess stood nearby with flavor blends and whipped cream at the ready. Waiter after waiter arrived with trays of fruits, pastries, and sandwiches.

Chatter quieted as moans of delight filled the room. Xavier met her gaze and lifted one dark brow. “Maybe we should leave them alone?”

She chuckled aloud, drawing the party’s regard once again. Luckily the Princess’s guests were a friendly crowd and with indulgent smiles they turned back to their own conversations.

Except for Elayna, who had wiggled her way into the event as Carlo’s spy. She glared from the corner where she sat with Bernadette’s aunt and young cousin. Xavier’s ex hadn’t taken her eyes off them since she joined the group. The critical scrutiny was getting old.

“How much longer do you think this trip will last?” she demanded of Xavier.

He shrugged. “This is not my usual detail. You would probably have a better idea than I.”

She sighed. “It could be a while, then. I haven’t found a ball gown yet. Correction, I have found a ball gown, but nothing Bernadette has given a nod to. She’s determined I have something special for the occasion and I’ll know it when I see it.”

Amanda admitted the idea of wearing a special dress at a ball given at the Prince’s palace sent shivers of childish delight all through her. She’d be having the time of her life if it were just her and Bernadette.

Unfortunately it wasn’t just the two of them and Amanda felt out of place and on display.

“Hopefully it will be done by three. I have fencing training with my father. He is part of a demonstration planned for later this week.”

“Really?” Amanda perked up. “Is that on my agenda? Your talk at the museum was fascinating. I’d love to see a real match.”

“I will make sure you get a pass.”

“Good.” She swirled her coffee mug. “If only finding my gown could be so easy.”

A short while later the group split up as Bernadette’s aunt and cousin elected to return to the palace. Several of the other guests chose to join them, Elayna included. The sparkle in Bernadette’s eyes reflected her satisfaction as she, Amanda, and the ambassador to Spain strolled to the next boutique under the eagle eye of Xavier and a fellow guard.

Bernadette linked arms with Ana, the ambassador, a slender woman with short salt and pepper hair and ageless skin, and the two put their heads together discussing their next stop. Ana spoke with a strong accent but had a delightful sense of humor.

Amanda followed along, conscious of Xavier at her side, of the taste of him still in her mouth. Every moment she was with him yet not, hurt just a little more. She longed for his touch, longed to stroll the pretty streets of Pasadonia just so she could touch him.

Luckily they arrived at their destination, cutting off the inappropriate yearnings. Happy for the distraction, she stepped into a boutique with a bohemian vibe. Not at all what she’d been expecting.

The items on display were gorgeous, colorful or earthy in fabrics that hung and draped beautifully. They made the hanger look good, and on a body they would be nothing short of amazing. But not where she’d look for a ball gown.

And she’d be wrong.

Bernadette and Ana led Amanda into an alcove filled with an array of one-of-a-kind gowns in a rainbow of colors in every lush material she knew of. In awe at the choice spread before her, she stood arm to arm with her cohorts, surveying the selection.

Behind them Xavier stood, arms crossed, eyes on the room. He’d already made a tour of the shop, positioned the second guard at the rear exit and called the driver to advise him of the address of the store.

“Oh, Amanda!” Excitement alive in her voice, Bernadette stepped forward and reached for a gown that shimmered among the dresses. Ana rushed to help her, catching the bottom of the gown and letting it flow over her arms.

With a smile, Bernadette carefully handed Amanda the armful of satin.

“Oh my,” she breathed. Her heart skipped just looking at the dress. Her gaze met her stepmother’s. She’d been right. Amanda knew as soon as she saw the dress. And yes, it was special.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“I’
M
GOING
TO
meet your parents?” Anxiety rang in Amanda’s question as they wove their way through the mass of tables in the banquet hall headed toward table nine. “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your parents. You needed to warn me. I might have worn something different. Maybe the sapphire cowl neck dress.”

She had to be joking. He couldn’t look at her in the figure-hugging emerald green dress for more than a few minutes at a time or he risked embarrassing himself in front of his fellow officers and their families. He tore his gaze away from the sweet shape of her derrière and the way the filmy skirt that started mid-thigh flirted with her spectacular legs.

“You look fabulous,” he said grudgingly and leaned forward to whisper, “consider this your warning. Hello
Maman, Père
.”

She sent him a furious glare before turning a stunning smile on his folks. “Mr. and Mrs. DeLuc, it’s so nice to meet you.”

His father, an older edition of Xavier, stood and bowed over Amanda’s hand while Xavier bent over his mother to kiss her cheek.

“Ms. Carn, the pleasure is ours. It is so good to see Xavier has finally found a woman to share his life with. Please call us Maman and Père.”

“Oh.” Amanda’s smile froze and her gaze found his. Too poised to show her dismay to his parents, her eyes promised swift retribution if he didn’t handle this quickly.

“Pay no attention to my father.” Xavier seated her next to his mother. “He is the devil and you cannot trust a word he says.”

His father laughed heartily and resumed his seat. “A man can hope. Your mother worries for your happiness and longs for little Xaviers to bounce on her knee. Such a beautiful woman will make handsome sons.”

Amanda choked on the sip of water she’d taken.

Xavier patted her back while sending his father a cease and desist stare.

“My dear.” His mother laid her hand over Amanda’s and took advantage of the fact they were the only ones at the table to explain. “Philippe teases you. Xavier has told us of you and the importance of your visit. We are delighted to assist in any way we can. Please call me Yvette—and my so amusing mate is Philippe.”

Amanda looked to him for clarification. He nodded. “Jean Claude gave his approval.”

She visibly relaxed. Turning her hand over, she squeezed his mother’s fingers. “Yvette, you don’t know what a relief it is to hear that. It’s very wearing to keep up a constant pretense.”

“I can only imagine. You must put it aside for the next few hours and simply be yourself. Xavier told me of your trip to the prison island. I have heard this place is haunted.”

“I’ve heard that too. I went on the night tour once. I’m not going to say I saw any ghosts, but it was spooky.”

The women chatted, quickly becoming fast friends. Xavier took satisfaction in seeing the ease settle into Amanda’s features, her posture, her laugh. The meeting with her new family seemed to be going well, but there were expectations and hopes linked to the growing relationship that kept all parties slightly on edge.

With his parents none of that applied. She was having fun. And he found an ease of his own when she turned a genuine smile on him.

The Secretary of Military Affairs stepped onto the stage in front of the insignia of the Royal Pasadonian Republican Guard and began an inspirational speech in appreciation for sacrifice and dedication of the corps.

As the room fell silent except for the speaker, Xavier put his arm along the back of Amanda’s chair and rubbed his mother’s shoulder in gratitude. He could always count on her.

His father caught Xavier’s gaze and winked.

In that moment he felt truly blessed in his family. The question was if he let Amanda go, would he ever again find a love as true as his parents’?

* * *

“En garde.”
T
he referee brought the fencers to the center of the mat; they saluted each other and then took their stances. The referee stepped back and gave the call.
“Allez!”

Amanda sat on the edge of her seat watching the fencing match begin. The two powerful combatants lunged and parried, advancing and retreating in a dangerous dance for supremacy.

Xavier had explained the fencing matches were nine minutes long, broken into three sessions with one minute breaks.

This was Philippe’s big match and it was immediately apparent these were by far the most skilled of the champions fighting today. Philippe needed to be on his game.

She tore her gaze from the action to check the entrance and then search the competitors ringing the competition floor.

A hand on her arm made her jump. She swung to face Yvette LeDuc. Amanda had been thrilled to see Xavier’s mother in the seat next to hers. She genuinely liked the woman plus she truly appreciated being able to be herself and put all pretenses aside.

“Why do you fidget?” she asked. “Who do you watch for?”

Amanda flushed as she confessed she was looking for Xavier. Could she be more of a heartsick loser?

“He said he had a match today.” She focused on the flash of steel below her. “I must have missed it. But I thought he’d come out to see his father’s bout.”

Yvette laughed. “Amanda, Xavier is here. I thought you knew.” She nodded to the combatants. “He’s there. The current champion taking on his father, the past champion. They are magnificent, are they not?

She turned back to the match and Amanda also focused her attention on the fighters. The men were fully engaged looking for an opening to strike.

“I am sorry.” Yvette patted her hand on the armrest they shared. “I forget you do not speak our language so good. Philippe’s opponent was to be a surprise until announced at the match. Obviously that son of mine did not tell you he would be facing his father today.”

“No.” Amanda narrowed her eyes, watching the intricate ballet of strength and strategy playing out in front of her. “He did not.”

She’d followed the introductions well enough to know Philippe wore the gold armband, which meant Xavier wore the red. She realized she’d been so busy looking for him she’d missed his entrance. And then the audience reacted so strongly when he was announced she hadn’t heard his name.

He moved with such grace and fluidity her eye had been drawn to him before she’d even known it was Xavier. Now she knew she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

When the match started, she’d worried that this aggressive opponent might best Philippe. And he might, which left her torn. She didn’t want either to lose.

The first break was called with no score, a testament to their skill.

“How can you stand it, knowing one of them will lose? Won’t there be hard feelings between them?”

Yvette shook her head. “As long as it is well fought, they will be fine.” She sent Amanda an arch glance. “And the loser will already be looking forward to the next battle and his chance at victory.”

Amanda laughed. “That I believe.”

“You care for him.” The statement from Yvette held a wealth of knowledge, of compassion.

“I love him,” she admitted as the next round began.

She thought of denying her feelings, but why? She was a terrible liar. His mother was sharp, she’d see through Amanda in a heartbeat.

And when Yvette turned her wise amber eyes on Amanda, she was glad she’d been honest. Already she valued this woman as a friend. She hoped Xavier realized how lucky he was.

“He cares for you, too,” Yvette assured her.

“Not enough.”

“How much would be enough?”

Good question. What did she expect from Xavier? That he’d give up a career steeped in family history? Or turn his back on the country he put his life on the line for? Wave goodbye to a family he obviously adored?

As she watched, he parried and thrust, forcing Philippe on the defense. The stamina required for the sport astounded her.

“Too much,” she finally answered Yvette’s question, her throat closing around the words. “There’s too much to overcome. I knew that from the beginning.”

“If you knew this, why did you start something with him?”

Wow. Enough with the tough questions already.

“Because he was gorgeous, and fascinating, and attentive. He’s so far out of my league. I mean look at him.” She gestured to the floor where Xavier wielded a sword as if it were an extension of his arm. “But he made me feel special.”

“To him you are special.”

The second break came with a score of one to nothing, Philippe managing to make one hit.

Tense with the action on the floor and the conversation in the seats, Amanda sat straighter in her seat and turned her head to look at Yvette.

Amanda shook her head. “He had orders.”

“Which he jeopardized by spending time with you.”

“What? No.” That wasn’t right. She knew exactly what his orders had been. His words were burned into her brain. “He was supposed to keep tabs on me, find out what I knew about my father.”

“You think he pretended interest in you to facilitate his orders.” Again it was a statement, not a question. Her eyes were steady on Amanda’s when she said, “This is not Xavier’s way.”

“Yvette.” Of course his mother didn’t want to think her son had led a woman on. Everything he’d told her about Yvette spoke against such treatment.

“Amanda, my son is a professional soldier. He knows how to keep someone under surveillance and extract information without kissing them.”

Xavier
was
a professional. His seriousness and sense of duty were the first and last things you noticed about him.

“He is one of the youngest men to reach the rank of Commandant in the history of the corps. We are very proud of him. He has achieved this through his dedication to his career and to the crown.”

She knew all this, or at least wasn’t surprised by it. Everything his mother just explained was what was keeping them apart. Yet Yvette’s earnest expression indicated she was trying to tell Amanda something.

“I don’t understand.” She shrugged helplessly. “Every point you’ve made only seems to highlight our obstacles.”

“Exactly.” Yvette patted her arm as if she were the most clever of women. “Xavier is a soldier, so the question is why did he not do his duty as he should? I think because he could not. Because Xavier the man saw someone he wanted and he acted on that desire.”

A collective gasp from the audience snapped her attention back to the match. The last period had begun and Philippe was on the attack, pushing Xavier to the edge of the mat, the sword action more heard than seen. Xavier held his ground, forcing Philippe back with sheer brute strength and a feint that allowed him to gain an advantage.

“Breathe, child,” Yvette advised beside her. “It is not life or death.”

“It feels like it is.” Amanda took a breath. “Those are sharp weapons they’re using. Even with the masks and suits, it’s unnerving to watch.”

“There is much about being a soldier’s wife that is unnerving.”

Another shot to the gut. For a sweet woman, Xavier’s mother played hardball.

“I imagine that’s true.” But she hadn’t really given it much thought. Because much as she loved him, she couldn’t see the future for the obstacles in their way. Often soldiers’ wives had to give up everything to follow their man.

Keeping in touch with friends and family wasn’t as difficult as in past eras, but there was still sacrifice. All impediments aside, could she be a soldier’s wife?

The question deserved more than a second’s reflection but her gut answer said yes. She knew how it felt to long for something with all her heart and the loneliness of feeling as if part of her life was missing.

Yes, a soldier’s life involved risk, but life was full of uncertainties. In truth, you never knew how long you’d have with someone. She’d rather grab what time she could with her love and live life to the fullest every day, than shrink from the thought of loss and face eternal regret.

The match ended with a ring of steel as the referee called halt. Philippe’s one point made him the winner and the crowd cheered as the son bowed to the father in acknowledgement of the victory.

Sweat drenched Xavier’s dark hair, evidence of the workout he’d just had, but the wide smile on his face reassured her he’d enjoyed the match. And then he looked right at her, that brash smile still on his face, and waved. She froze, as heads turned in her direction, being acknowledged by the reigning champion was hardly low profile. Thankfully Yvette waved back, dispelling a lot of the interest.

But the persistent man continued to watch her so she gave a little wave. His grin broadened and then he was swept away as the emcee wrapped up the demonstration by presenting Philippe with a handsome plaque.

Yvette nudged Amanda with her elbow. “My man won.”

Amanda nudged her back with a smile. “I thought you didn’t care who won.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I have a slight preference. I love my son, but one thing I have learned over many years of marriage is to put Philippe before all others. When we are together, everything else falls into place.”

“That’s really lovely.”

Yvette’s smile held a rueful edge. “The truth is we are stronger together than apart. I will not lie, sometimes it is an effort. But it is always worth it.”

* * *

“Anda. Anda ball!” Devin called before launching his ball at Amanda.

“Got it, yeah!” She made a big deal of catching the ball. In jeans and an aqua t-shirt, she enjoyed a few minutes with her brothers before she had to dress for tonight’s ball.

“Yeah!” Marcus crowed. “Anda, cach.” And he threw his ball.

“Goodness.” She opened her arms for the lob coming her way and ended up bobbling the two balls. In the end she threw up her arms and let the two balls tumble to the ground.

The boys giggled and scurried after the rolling balls. She plopped on the grass of the inner courtyard and watched her brothers chase balls and each other around the manicured lawn.

Each day she tried to spend some time with them. They loved being outdoors and this was a somewhat public spot where they could appear to cross paths. Their nanny sat nearby and a guard stood at a discreet distance.