The Man's Outrageous Demands (9 page)

Now that the issue was decided, Sam felt good. Better than he had in over a month, in fact. Sam smiled broadly, liking the idea more and more. “I’ll consider it my highest priority,” he said and bowed graciously.

King Stephan winked at Sam then patted him on the back. “Good. Let’s join the ladies. I imagine that my wife has been getting an earful about you for the past twenty minutes.”

Sam laughed openly now, feeling like he now owned the world. “I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

The three men entered the smaller salon. Sam’s eyes instantly sought out the one person he was interested in. Once he found her looking out the window, he felt a surge of possessiveness.

She was his, he thought. All five feet, seven inches of her luscious, amazing body. And he protected what was his. He sat down on the sofa and rolled the brandy glass in his hands, warming the potent liquid.

King Stephan yawned and turned to his wife. “My dear, I’m extremely tired tonight. Would you mind if I excused myself?” King Stephan asked.

Natasha understood his silent message and responded with relief. “Of course not dear. In fact, I’ll go with you.”

“I’m off for the night,” Max said and within moments, Marabeth and Sam were alone in the salon. Marabeth just stared at the door where her parents and brother had left.

How could her mother have abandoned her with the one man she’d just been complaining about?

Marabeth looked over at the man in question and watched as one eyebrow went up in question. “Are you going to beg fatigue after your stressful day in the transparent excuse of being afraid of me?” he asked.

Since Marabeth had been about to do just that, she snapped her mouth closed and glared at him.

Sam chuckled and motioned for her to sit down across from him. “Why don’t we talk?” he said.

“Why? So you can put more restrictions on my movement?” she asked sarcastically?

“I might,” he said and challenged her to ignore his request.

“How does one get to be so arrogant?” she asked, walking over to stand in front of him, her hands on her hips in frustration. “I mean, please teach me your technique because it might come in handy when I meet an insufferable brute of a man who just irritates me by his presence,” she snapped.

Sam pulled her down so she was sitting next to him. “We need to talk,” he said and turned his body so he was looking at her.

“Oh!’ she said, surprised by how quickly she had been pulled down. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, struggling to get up and move away from the heat of his body. But the soft cushions of the sofa and his large, male body prevented her from moving.

“I didn’t like looking up at you. This is better,” he said and took her hand in his.

“Let go of me,” she gasped, trying to pull her hand out of his.

“Marabeth, shut up,” he said and chuckled at her horrified expression. “Like I said, we need to talk.”

“No we don’t. I don’t have anything to say to you,” she said and tried to get off the sofa.

Sam set his brandy on the table next to him and turned back to Marabeth. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way,” he said and waited for her response.

“No way,” Marabeth countered and smacked at his hands.

Sam decided more drastic action was needed. He grabbed both her hands and gently but efficiently pulled her so she was sitting in his lap. “Now, one more word out of you and I’ll have to silence you the only way I know how,” he said and looked down into her shocked eyes.

“I can’t believe….” Marabeth started, only to be stopped by his lips descending to hers. Marabeth gasped at the first touch, but then her mind went blank as his mouth moved softly over hers, touching, caressing. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing, but held on to his lapels for dear life and waited for the sensations to stop making her head spin.

He lifted his head and looked at her. She didn’t say a word. “That’s better,” he said and nodded his approval at her silence. “I was about to explain that I think we should get married,” Sam said.

Marabeth couldn’t utter a word. This was a bizarre world where nothing was making any sense. She stood up and was grateful that he allowed her to take a few steps away. “I’m sorry?” she said carefully. “Could you repeat what you just said?”

Sam stood up as well. Looking down into her eyes, he repeated, “I think we should get married.”

Marabeth took a deep breath and shook her head. “That’s what I thought you said. Why would you say something like that?” she asked.

“Because I want you,” he replied. “And you want me too.”

The first comment was outrageous but the second just floored her. “Is that so?” she asked, taking several steps away from him. “That’s an awfully bold assumption. Where on earth would you get that impression?”

He followed her, not giving her any breathing space. “Because it is true. Want me to prove it?”

“No!” she said and put a chair between them. “Not that you could, mind you.”

“Don’t throw challenges out there.”

Marabeth couldn’t even imagine why he was doing this. “It doesn’t matter anyway. My father wouldn’t agree to our marriage. He and my mother have several men already picked out….” She didn’t continue. The confident look in his face told her the news. “You’ve already spoken to him about it, haven’t you?”

Sam laughed. “I think it was more along the lines of him talking to me, but regardless, yes. You’re father has already given his seal of approval on the wedding. I believe he even demanded that I produce a grandchild or two as rapidly as possible.”

Marabeth couldn’t believe this. “You’re lying,” she said.

Sam shook his head. “I never lie, Marabeth.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He countered. “I know this has been quite a shock. I’ll leave you with one final thought,” he said as he came around the chair. She was so confused, she didn’t even try to evade him. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands splaying open on her back. His kiss felt something like a branding, so hot and amazingly sensuous.

And it was over before she could even react to it. “We’ll have dinner together tomorrow, just the two of us and we’ll talk about it further,” he said and left her standing in the corner of the salon, staring after him with a dazed look in her face.

Marabeth barely slept, too confused and feeling betrayed by her parents. They didn’t even ask her opinion on the situation and they’d already put their approval on the arrangement.

She met her mother for breakfast the next morning, hoping her appearance looked more serene than she was feeling.

“Good morning, dear,” Queen Natasha said as Marabeth took her seat at the breakfast table. “You look like you had a rough night.”

“Yes. It wasn’t very restful.”

“Why is that?”

“Perhaps because you went back on your word, mother.”

“How did we do that?” she asked calmly, taking a sip of her tea and staring at her furious daughter over the rim.

“I understand you’ve both promised me to our illustrious Minister of Defense,” Marabeth said, not looking at her mother for fear that the pain she was feeling would show through. She carefully put her napkin onto her lap.

“I think it will be a wonderful marriage. And I don’t think we’ve gone back on our word, my dear. It might seem like it at the moment but in time, I think you’ll agree with us.”

Marabeth shook her head. “After George died, you and father both promised me that you’d allow me to choose the man I would marry, contingent upon your approval of his worthiness.”

“I believe we did that.”

“How?” Marabeth demanded, the emotions she was feeling coming through in her tone. “Do you have any understanding of the anger that man generates within me? How awful he is to me? I can’t bear to be in the same room with him without fighting with the man. How in the world could you think that he would be a suitable husband?”

“I think if you’d just step back and think about it, the anger he seems to generate within you is more likely desire that is hidden behind confusion and possibly…fear?” she suggested.

Marabeth shook her head. “No. You’re wrong. I don’t feel anything for him but anger. He’s so arrogant and irritating.”

“Why don’t you talk to him? Explain what you’re feeling? He’s a man of the world and can probably help you with those feelings.”

Marabeth could tell that she wasn’t going to get any help from her mother. “Yes, I’m sure that’s a practical solution.”

Her mother laughed softly at Marabeth’s retort. “Marabeth, I’ve found that Sam is a very reasonable person. If you talk to him, I’m sure you two can come to some sort of compromise on whatever is making you so angry.”

“Since it is his whole personality that bothers me, I doubt he would be very amenable to change.”

Her mother sighed and considered her angry daughter for a long moment, sipping her tea and then pulling a piece of toast onto her plate to butter it. “I heard a quote once that said females marry someone exactly like or exactly the opposite of their fathers. George was the exact opposite of your father. Did you have any respect for George?”

Marabeth shuddered at the reminder of her previous engagement. “No. He was soft and indecisive and had absolutely no work ethic.”

“So the exact opposite didn’t work out for you since you didn’t respect him very much. Perhaps you should give Sam a chance. He’s remarkably like your father in many ways.”

“Doesn’t that sound slightly ediple, mother?”

Her mother laughed despite her daughter’s irreverent comment. “Not at all. You don’t want to marry your father in any way. You just respect the qualities in other men that your father has shown as you were growing up. But speaking of attraction, you can’t deny you are to him.”

“Yes I can,” Marabeth countered immediately.

“Then you are lying to yourself, dear,” she said softly and stood up. “I have to rush, Marabeth but I want you to think clearly about Sam’s proposal. Your father and I are in agreement that this would be a wonderful idea. If you can give us any reason that it wouldn’t work, we are more than ready to listen.”
“Doesn’t the fact that I don’t like him mean anything?”

Her mother smiled gently before bending down to kiss her daughter on the cheek. “On the contrary. I have a feeling you like him too much. And that scares you.”

Marabeth sat in the breakfast room drinking her tea and thinking through her current situation. Her parents were practically ordering her to marry the man. She’d known it would come down to this as soon as they’d found someone that they thought was worthy. And for the past year, Marabeth had been fine with that. She’d been raised knowing her husband had already been chosen for her and she would have married George if he hadn’t died two years ago. She would have even been content in the marriage.

But she didn’t think she could find contentment with Sam. He was too domineering and autocratic. Her mother was right, those definitely were qualities she knew were also in her father. But they weren’t the qualities that she admired about him.

Marabeth got up from the table and called Stacy. “Are we cleared for departure today, Stacy?” Marabeth listened for a moment before her hopes were dashed. “Thanks. I didn’t think so. Well, you might as well take the day off. Was there anything special planned?”

There hadn’t been. But there was a big event planned for tomorrow. The children’s wing of the hospital needed renovations and she’d put a lot of time into coordinating a fundraiser. She was supposed to attend a luncheon tomorrow to finalize all the details. Marabeth sighed in frustration. She’d wager that tomorrow’s activities would be canceled as well.

She was looking out the window and wondering what she was going to do with her day when something Sam said yesterday came back to her. Why shouldn’t she have her luncheon tomorrow? She could bring everyone here instead of having it at the hospital. That would put a strain on the security team here, but she didn’t really care about that. If they weren’t going to allow her to leave, then they’d better be ready to have everyone come here.

She called Stacy back and thankfully, she was still there, not taking Marabeth’s advice to take the day off. them to come here instead. don’t bother. I’ll call them myself to let them know they should be expecting approximately fifty or more people who will need to be cleared through the gates tomorrow.”
“Stacy, call the organizers of tomorrow’s luncheon and tell

We’ll have it in the main dining hall. Call security…no,

Marabeth put down the phone and felt much better. She wondered if she was just being petty but she didn’t think so. This was an important meeting and the committee was going to finish up the details and move on to fundraising tomorrow. It had been one of her agendas for the past three years and it was finally coming to an end. She walked to her office and smiled at Stacy. “I feel better, how about you?”

Stacy looked slightly frazzled but energized. “I just talked to the kitchens and they are in full battle mode. What did security say?” she asked.

“I haven’t called them yet. I’ll get on it now. We’ll need to either e-mail or phone everyone on the list to make sure they can come and let them know to arrive early so they can get cleared through security.”

The rest of the day was spent phoning and coordinating names and background checks with security who snapped into active mode at her request.

By six o’clock that evening, everything was arranged. The whole list of fifty people were tentatively cleared and the chef was busy preparing the luncheon. Marabeth felt much better, knowing that she had accomplished something today and will again tomorrow.

Stacy walked in to Marabeth’s office and smiled tentatively, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your dinner?”

“No,” she said distractedly, pulling papers together to file into a manilla folder for tomorrow. “Why?” Marabeth asked, glancing at her watch.