The Man's Outrageous Demands (13 page)

“Anything you want to ask.”

“Good. What’s your favorite color?” she asked.

“Blue, I guess. What’s yours?”

“Yellow,” she said with emphasis.

“Why?” something. magazine. dessert?” She thought about that for a moment. No one had ever questioned why she liked

They had just accepted it, then usually printed it in some newspaper or “Because it is a happy color, I guess. My turn. What’s your favorite

“Anything with lemon in it,” he replied easily. “What’s yours?”

“Meringues.” She thought for a moment about her next question. “Where’s the worst place you’ve ever visited?”

“The jungle,” he said without hesitation. visited?”

“What’s the best place you’ve ever

“Washington, D.C. in the springtime.” She took another sip of wine and considered her next question. “What’s your most dysfunctional relative?”

Sam threw back his head and laughed. “Most dysfunctional, huh? Let me see. I have an Aunt who lost all her teeth. Every once in a while, she leaves the house without her dentures. It is a little shocking.”

Marabeth grimaced. “That’s all you got? An aunt with bad teeth?”

“No teeth, and yes, that’s the worst I have. That I know of. I’m sure that some family member is probably locked in the closet each time I come near because he or she has drunken bouts of rage where they tell all the other family secrets. Unfortunately, because they are locked in the closet, I’ve never met them. What about you?”

She laughed at his response, warmed that he was sharing with her. “Now that you mention it, I have a cousin who gets drunk at almost every meal and starts singing show tunes.”

“I bet he doesn’t get invited to many political functions, does he?” Sam laughed.

“Actually, he is a she and no, not many.” She turned away and walked along the patio, touching a bloom every few feet. “Your turn,” she said.

“Mystery, romance or non-fiction?”

“Mystery, but I have to keep the lights on when I finish reading. And I secretly love reading a romance novel but don’t let that out to anyone else. I won’t even bother asking you.”

“What would you guess I read?”

“Non-fiction, of course,” she replied. “Why of course?”

“Because you would never unbend enough to read something nonsensical. Am I right?”

“Perhaps. So what’s your question?”

“I’ll throw one of yours back at you. What’s the best thing you’ve ever done in your life?”

“Kissed you the other night,” he said without hesitation.

“Oh,” Marabeth said, her eyes looking into his intense gaze. Suddenly thirsty, she drank half her glass of wine. “Your turn.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? And you can’t throw my answer back at me,” he chuckled.

Marabeth smiled at his quick retort. “That’s a tough one,” she said. “I suppose that would be the Christmas that I got mad at Ana and told her that father was selling her off to be one of Santa’s elves and she’d never have any more presents.”

Sam threw back his head and laughed at her comment. “And she believed you?”

Marabeth smiled but there was a catch to her expression. “If I remember correctly, she was seven and I was almost six. We weren’t very nice to each other that year.”

“I thought you two were good friends and sisters to each other. What happened that year that changed things?”

Marabeth smiled slightly before answering, here eyes took on a sad look as she remembered her shock when her parents sat the both of them down for a serious conversation after dinner one night. “She and I were both told we were betrothed that year. It was the first time we’d seen our future husbands and neither one of us were very impressed with them.”

Sam noticed her somber expression and wanted to wrap her in his arms. He resisted, understanding that she needed space at the moment. And he wanted to get to know her more. If he touched her, he wouldn’t want to stop. “That must have been difficult.” He didn’t move, but continued to lean against the cement railing as he watched her walk across the patio touching the flowers. He accepted the distance and even enjoyed watching her walk. She seemed to glide as she moved, as if her feet were barely touching the ground.

Marabeth nodded at his response. “It was awful.” “I guess your sister found that Prince Erik wasn’t so bad after all since they are about to have their first child together.”

Ana rolled her eyes. “This time two years ago, I wouldn’t have bet on it,” she said.

“Another difficult period?”

“Yes. Very fraught with tension, it was. You wouldn’t believe the uproar that occurred when Ana ran away with a stranger one weekend. My father was livid. We eventually found out that the stranger was actually Prince Erik. Neither one knew that the other was their betrothed at the time so it caused a great deal of tension within the palace.”

“But everything went happily ever after?”

“So far,” she chuckled.

Sam knew that they were veering off the twenty questions game but she was so open now, he wanted to find out everything he could about her. He liked listening to her talk. Her face held so much expression when she relaxed and shared with him. “What about Max? Why wasn’t a marriage arranged for him?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders for emphasis. “We’ve asked our parents that but have never gotten a very satisfactory answer. I’d wager it has something to do with the fact that he is a male and my father therefore considers him more worthy of intelligence and careful planning. Therefore he’ll choose someone well suited.” Marabeth tried to hide the hurt and sarcasm from her voice, but she heard some of it slip out. “Women on the other hand, must be guided at all times for fear that they will irrevocably mess up their live, and everyone else’s in the process.”

“They let you choose this time, didn’t they?”

She raised her eyebrows at his question. “Did they?”

“Yes. I spoke to your father and it was my understanding that they were just waiting for you to find someone you were interested in.”

Marabeth turned her back on him, looking out into the dark night. “Let’s not get into that again, shall we?”

Sam noticed the tension in her shoulders come back and was sorry for bringing up what was obviously a sore subject. But he wanted to know more on that issue. He wanted her to admit that she wanted him and that they could be happy together. He didn’t understand her stubbornness. He was quiet for a moment before he said, “I’ll reserve the conversation for a later time. But I think it is my turn for a question.”

“Okay, shoot. What’s your question?”

“How much do you weigh?” he asked.

Marabeth almost choked on her sip of wine. She sputtered for a moment before gasping, “My weight? You want to know how much I weigh?”

“Yes.”

Marabeth eyed him carefully. “You already know. You’re just testing me to see if I’ll tell the truth, aren’t you?”

“Just answer the question,” he chuckled.

“One hundred and twenty pounds. Why in the world would you ask a woman what her weight is? That’s something most women won’t even tell their husbands!” She was laughing at his satisfied expression by the time she finished.

His eyes didn’t reveal anything, but his smile was charming and could melt butter she suspected. He shrugged his shoulders before saying, “Just chalk it up to male curiosity, okay? What’s your question?”

“How much do you weigh?” she threw back at him.

He walked across the patio, stopping just an inch or two from her body. “Two hundred and ten. Almost twice as much as you,” he said. He loomed over her as he said it. “I’m starving. While you’re coming up with your next question, how about if I let the waiters serve?”

“That’s fine,” she whispered, suddenly intimidated by his closeness for some reason. It was probably the way his eyes stared at her mouth, as if he wanted to kiss her rather than eat the delicious smelling dinner waiting for them.

Without blinking an eye, Sam took a step back, then raised one hand and, instantly, five servants appeared, placed various plates and serving dishes on the table already covered with white linen and candles, then just as quickly disappeared.

“Shall we see what’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Sure, but I think this counts as one of your questions,” she said and sat down in the chair he held for her.

“How so?” “You wanted to know what my favorite dish is. And now you’re going to find out.”

“Ah, but I didn’t ask the question. I simply requested the food be served.”

“Basically the same thing,” she shrugged.

“I beg to differ,” he said as he lifted the silver cover off both plates and looked down curiously. “No question was asked, therefore, I still maintain that I didn’t ask it.”

She laughed at his sidestepping of the finer points of the game. “Fine. Who’s turn is it?”

“Well, if you don’t know, I’ll take the lead. Shrimp scampi,” he smiled over his shoulder.

“Smells delicious, doesn’t it?” she asked, taking her seat and waiting for him to seat himself.

“Sure does. What’s your least favorite food?”

“Broccoli,” she replied instantly. “No! Asparagus,” she said nodding. “No…actually, cauliflower.”

“Not a vegetable person, I’m guessing.”

“Oh, I like vegetables. Just not all of them. But I absolutely hate those three and you wouldn’t believe how many times those are served at functions I attend.”

“Do you eat them?”

“Of course,” she said indignantly. “I have to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it would be rude if I didn’t.”

“Are you always polite?”

“When it could cause a major political issue? Yes.”

“How often is that the case?”

“According to my parents when I was growing up, every meal. Even at our own family meals, apparently.”

Sam laughed. “You sound like you had a tough childhood.”

“Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t fall into that poor little rich girl syndrome. I know I had a great childhood. I got to do more things than the people I was reading about in the stories so I understood how great it was. But there are pros and cons to every situation. Having to eat my vegetables is one of the cons of being a princess,” she laughed.

“What are some of the pros?”

“I got to visit places most people could only read about.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve been to all the continents and almost every country in Europe. Not very many states in the United States, but I’d like to visit more of them. I’ve also been to Canada, Mexico, China and several other countries. How about you?”

“I’ve been to several places,” he said and took a bite of shrimp. “Do you like to travel? Would you say that’s the best part of being a member of a royal family?” he asked, steering the questions away from the places he’d traveled. He’d been to many of those same countries but not legally and not in any capacity that he’d be able to talk about. It was better that she not know about that part of his life.

“No. Not the best part,” she said, thinking about her family and how tightly knit they were. “I think the closeness of our family is the best part. I know in other families, people tend to drift apart. But because we’re so isolated from the rest of the world, we really focused on each other and drew strength from that bond. My brother still has dinner with my parents any night there isn’t an event he or they have to attend. That’s about three or four times a week in most cases.”

“Isn’t that to update the king on state issues?”

She nodded in response. “Yes, but there’s more to it than that. And I’m sure, once he gets married, he’ll back off that and will want to be alone with his family, but hopefully, we’ll all bring that closeness to our new families.”

Sam looked at the gentle woman across from him and his throat tightened at the idea of her bearing his children. His body instantly reacted to the image he formed in his mind of Marabeth growing large with their children, being there with her when she gave birth to them. He hoped she wanted a large family because he’d been an only child and didn’t want to do that to other kids. He’d always missed having siblings. He liked the idea of sharing dinner almost every night, sitting down and each person discussing the events of the day.

“How many children do you want to have?” he asked, more curious than he wanted to admit to her answer.

Although the light was dim, Sam still saw her blush in the candlelight. “Um…well, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Why not? If you’ve always known you’d be married, I would have thought that would be an important decision that was made early in life.”

She put her fork down and delicately wiped her mouth. “It was never really discussed before.”

“Why is that?” he persisted. He could sense her desire to change the subject but that only roused his curiosity even more.

Marabeth looked off to the side of the veranda. She wanted to be completely honest with him but she feared that her honesty might reveal too much about her feelings for him. She suspected that he would pull it out of her one way or another so it was better to be completely honest with him up front. “Because I’d never really wanted George to touch me,” she said softly.

Sam was silent, waiting patiently for her to explain that comment. But when she simply picked up her fork and took another bite, he realized that she wasn’t going to elaborate. “And did he?” Sam asked, instantly furious at the man even though he’d passed away over two years ago. If he were still around, Sam knew he’d punch the man and then drag Marabeth out of his reach.