Royally Claimed (14 page)

She groaned. Frank's lips and tongue on her pulsing, sensitive flesh sounded like a dream come true.

He laughed. “All you'll have to do is lie back and enjoy it. All you have to do is come under my mouth…”

“Frank…” The syllable trailed off into a scream as her strongest climax yet broke over her. Her nails dug into the bike seat and she pushed back into his luscious shaft. He gave a harsh shout and exploded into her, pumping frantically as her body rocked around him. Her nipples rubbed the leather as her breasts swayed. Her whole body trembled in pleasure as she braced her hand on his rock-hard thigh.

He eased them down so she lay in his arms on the picnic blanket.

“Are you all right, Julia?” His brow creased into worry. “Was it too much for you?”

She stretched, feeling nothing but a welcome fatigue. “I feel wonderful, and if we didn't need to ride farther on that bike, I might have you do it all over again.”

His face broke into a grin. “Insatiable wench.” He kissed the top of her messy hair and took a long, leisurely stare down her body. “I think I need to buy you some black leather clothing of your own.”

Naughty images of Frank wearing motorcycle chaps and nothing else popped into her mind. “Only if you get some for yourself.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I already do.”

She decided to change the subject. “I didn't expect your friends to be so nice to me, especially the women.”

He gave her a strange look. “Why ever not? You are a nice person, they are nice people. Most everybody here is friendly.”

“Yes, but…” She wasn't sure how to describe it. “The local Duke sleeping with an American woman.”

“Somebody said that to you?” Frank's face darkened.

“No, Frank, nobody said anything. Nobody even gave me a funny look.” But she bet his mother and sisters would have had something to say if Frank had ever brought her home to them. Eleven years ago, Julia had been too young and naive to manage well in such a foreign environment, and now…maybe she was too old and jaded.

“Are you sure?” He was still wound up for battle. “Because I won't tolerate anyone insulting you. Not here, not anywhere.”

Wow. She knew he had a protective streak but had never seen it directed toward others on her behalf before. “I'm sure. José's family was lovely, and they adore you.”

He relaxed a bit and grinned. “And I am sure as soon as we left, they were on the phone to fill in Benedito back home. He keeps better tabs on me than my mother ever did.”

“From what you've told me, it sounds like you needed it.”

“Maybe when I was younger, but now he would
definitely be in the way.” Frank stretched and rolled out from under her. “As much as I hate to say it, we should get dressed and go.”

She gave the dappled green clearing a wistful look before reaching for her clothes. Their little Eden would linger in her memory for a long time.

“Such a shame to cover yourself up.” He shook his head mournfully. “That is why I want to get you back to Belas Aguas so we can be truly alone.”

Julia stopped in the middle of dressing. She was an expert on being alone, an expert on loneliness. Being alone with Frank was a misnomer—the time they spent together, just the two of them, was everything, the perfect connection with another human being that she'd longed for and never thought she'd have again.

She cupped his cheeks and kissed him sweetly, tenderly. “Thank you, Franco. Thank you for everything.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, her heart filling with the love she'd pushed away for so long. Her uncomplicated spring fling was certainly more complicated than she'd bargained for.

 

A
N HOUR LATER, AFTER
zipping along the road back to her parents' apartment, Julia unlocked their door and pushed it open, wrinkling her nose at the musty air.

“How are your aunt and uncle this week, Julia?” Frank glanced around the apartment to make sure it was still in one piece, checking under the sink for leaks and making sure the fridge was still running. “Is your aunt still in the hospital?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” She beamed at him and his
heart thumped. “I called Boston yesterday and they're both doing well. My uncle's broken leg is starting to heal nicely and my aunt is doing much better since her ribs stopped hurting so much. The home health nurses and physical therapists are visiting several times a week to make sure they keep up their strength.”

“I'm glad to hear they're recovering. Have your parents set a date for their return?”

She found a bottle of orange soda in the fridge and took a sip. “Ah…all that motorcycle riding makes me thirsty.” She winked at him and his heart flipped to see her dark curly hair wild over the leather jacket. “I don't think they can come back for a couple more weeks. Once my uncle can move more easily and doesn't need as much help with daily activities, my mom and dad will consider it. Anyway, my mom is grabbing the chance to visit some of her old friends and go shopping for new summer clothes. My dad has the keys to my condo so he's probably hanging out there just to catch a break once in a while. I have many TV channels.”

When the topic of her father came up, Frank still got the same embarrassed feeling that he had when he'd been a teenager. Sure, he and Julia were adults, but once Frank had a daughter, he'd knock any man on his butt who looked at her like Frank looked at Julia. If he ever had a daughter.

They heard a tapping sound and turned. Her parents' landlord
Senhor
de Sousa stood in the doorway. Frank greeted him in Portuguese, asking how he was.

“Fine, fine,” he replied, taking a deep breath as if climbing the stairs had taxed his strength.

Julia gave her neighbor a narrow glance that Frank
didn't understand. Was she angry at the man for stopping by?

But she invited him in and smiled at him, the wariness never leaving her eyes. “A hot day today, isn't it?”

Senhor
de Sousa wiped his brow, which suddenly looked pale and clammy. “Yes, hot.” Then he dropped his English and lapsed into gibberish.

“What? What is he saying?” Julia grabbed the older man and guided him to a chair.

Frank shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. It's Portuguese, but a bunch of words that don't make sense.”

She groaned. “Darn it, I thought he didn't look good when he came in.” She held on to his arm. “Listen, Frank, call the ambulance right now. Tell them he's having a stroke and they need to call ahead to the hospital. It's a good hospital, right?”

“Excellent care,” he assured her and ran for the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Julia talking slowly and carefully to her neighbor. She was doing some kind of neurological exam, moving her finger side to side and up and down in front of his eyes. She smiled at him and encouraged him to do the same, but even from across the room, Frank could tell that one side of his face was severely drooping. The older man could raise one arm, but not the other.

Frank finished giving instructions to the ambulance and hung up. “They should be here in just a few minutes. We're fairly close to the fire station.”

“Come over here and help me steady him so he doesn't fall out of the chair.” Julia had her hands on
Senhor
de Sousa's shoulders, part for support and part to soothe him.

Frank reassured the man in Portuguese and although
it seemed like forever, the emergency crews arrived. Julia told them what had happened, using Frank as a translator. He didn't understand half of it, but the paramedics did, and they bundled her neighbor off to the hospital.

“We should go too, Frank.” Julia put her hand on his arm. “I have his daughter's phone number. You call her and tell her we'll meet her there.”

“Okay.” He called while Julia locked up the apartment and soon found himself back on the motorcycle again riding toward the island hospital, Julia behind him. Not what he had in mind for a romantic outing, but seeing her in action was impressive. If she hadn't had her nurse's training and education, if she hadn't recognized the signs of
Senhor
de Sousa's illness, he could have easily gotten worse, perhaps to the point of death.

Julia was a wonder, not just in her relationship with him, but in her chosen career, as well. Would she ever consider giving up the excitement and satisfaction of saving lives at the big city emergency room to stay with him? The Santas Aguas estate was usually pretty tame, aside from occasional cuts and broken bones that came with farm machinery and big animals. Thankfully there hadn't been a serious accident in several years, but he couldn't picture Julia hanging around the small infirmary waiting for a fieldhand with a barbed wire scratch to wander in.

And he wasn't sure if she'd enjoy the formal duties that came with his life back in Portugal. His mother had mentioned spending less time with her charitable events and obligations and spending more time with his nieces and nephews, but
somebody
from the Duarte
family needed to be on the boards of the Santas Aguas women's club, Friends of the Library and the garden club. Frank sure wasn't going to offer.

On the other hand, Julia could offer classes in CPR and first aid to the local scouts. Exciting stuff. He sighed and flipped on the turn signal to enter the hospital parking lot.

He spotted the emergency room drive-up lane. So did Julia. She tapped him on the stomach. “Let me off here. I'll meet you inside.”

Frank pulled over and helped her take off her helmet. She strode into the E.R. without looking back. He'd never seen this focused and driven side of her until she'd diagnosed poor
Senhor
de Sousa's stroke. She really was a marvelous woman, personally and professionally. He was a goner for her—always had been.

An impatient horn tooted behind him, and he realized he was blocking the driveway. He got out of the way, parking the motorcycle. He cut the engine but sat on the bike for a couple minutes, worrying about what to do. The woman he loved had given no signals about what she wanted to do after their little island interlude ended, as all good things did.

Leaving her adrenaline-packed life in Boston for a sleepy Portuguese burg in the middle of nowhere would be a huge sacrifice. He wasn't sure what her answer might be to that dilemma once he got up the nerve to ask her.

Fashionista Magazine: The Royal Review:

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, J
ULIA
heard a car horn toot outside her parents' apartment and hastily zipped her duffel bag. Frank had arrived to take her back to Belas Aguas after their unplanned overnight on São Miguel.

Despite his claim that she could go naked on his island and he would be perfectly happy, Julia wanted more clothing for variety's sake. They still hadn't discussed how long she might stay, but once her parents came home, her libertine carousing was done.

A knock sounded at the door. “Julia,
meu bem,
it's me,” Frank called.

She opened the door and pulled him into her arms, her hands roaming over the soft dark blue cotton of his T-shirt.

“Hey, hey.” His startled laugh was cut off by her passionate kiss. His lips moved sweetly over hers and he backed her into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind her. She finally let go of him and he lifted his head. “Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?”

She ducked her head, suddenly shy. “I'm just glad to see you.”

“And I'm glad to see you, too.” He caressed her cheek with his strong thumb. “Did you miss me?”

“Well, yes.” She gave him a mock grumpy stare. “You could have stayed here last night.”

“No.” His tone was uncompromising. “It would embarrass your parents to have the single Duke of Santas Aguas stay overnight unchaperoned in their apartment with their single daughter. I wouldn't dishonor them that way.”

“Oh, Frank,” she scoffed. “Who thinks about that nowadays?”

“We Portuguese do. Do you want the neighbors gossiping about your parents?”

“No, but they know I'm staying at Belas Aguas with you.”

“Out of sight, out of mind. Even if the neighbors comment on that, and I'm sure they do,” he added dryly, “your parents will know that we had enough respect for them and their home to behave properly there.”

It was sweet to consider her parents' feelings and reputation, even if she had tossed and turned all night without him. “How was the hotel?”

“Lonely.” His mouth pulled down. “And since we were at the hospital until after midnight, they had to put me in a broom closet of a room next to what sounded like the main water pipe for the whole building. It roared any time a guest brushed their teeth or flushed the toilet.”

“Oh, poor Franco.” But she couldn't stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, I can tell you're all broken up about it.” He picked up her duffle bag. “Maybe we should just head for the island instead of to the surprise I have planned for you.”

“Another surprise? You don't have to do that if we need to return to the villa.”

“As much as I enjoyed our trip to Furnas yesterday, several hours at the emergency room last night were not
what I call the perfect ending to a perfect day. I'd like to make it up to you.”

“Okay, then.” Julia was willing to be talked out of a day of painting over deep red paint splotches. She locked the front door and made sure it closed tightly. Without
Senhor
de Sousa to keep an eye on things, she would have to rely on mechanical theft deterrents. “Frank, we should call the hospital before we go…wherever we're going. I want to know how
Senhor
de Sousa is doing, but I wasn't sure if anyone there spoke English.”

“I already stopped there this morning after I traded the motorcycle for the car.” He held her elbow with his free hand as they descended the outside stairs. “He is doing about as well as they can expect, but the doctor told me he has excellent chances of nearly full recovery. Your quick reaction allowed them to almost totally dissolve the clot in his brain and prevent further damage.”

“Oh, Frank!” They were on the sidewalk now and she threw her arms around his neck. “How wonderful!” She planted a big smooch on his cheek. “That's exactly why I went into emergency medicine—saving lives and making a difference.”

“Of course.” His smile seemed a bit strained, and she felt guilty for tooting her own horn thanks to someone else's misfortune.

“But I wouldn't have known what was going on without you telling me he was speaking gibberish in Portuguese and being able to call the ambulance so quickly.”

He put her bag in the backseat of the loaner car, a white compact. “I can call the hospital later since you will want to follow the progress of your patient. But he's in the best of hands at the hospital, so you can put
your mind at ease.” He opened the passenger door and settled her into the seat.

“Thank you, Frank.”

“No thanks necessary.” He went around to the driver's side and started the engine.

“Where did you say we're going?”

“I didn't.” He grinned at her and acted as a tour guide, pointing out various historic churches and government buildings as they cruised across town. The scent of flowers floated into the car on a gentle breeze stirring the morning air. She sighed in happiness.

“Are we going back to the park for more pastries?”

“Pastries and kisses?” he teased.

Her face heated and she swatted his thigh. He covered her hand with his. “Not here,
meu bem
. I have to concentrate on my driving.”

“Frank!” She yanked her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can distract me later.” But the traffic did thicken as they passed through the crowded center of town, braking for pedestrians and reckless drivers as they went.

“This is the road to the airport. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Nope.” But that was all he'd say despite her pestering him the rest of the way into the airport parking lot and finally the terminal.

He stopped in front of the counter that listed that its next flight was to the island of Terceira. “Terceira!” she squealed. “Frank, I haven't been to Terceira since I was a kid.” That island, about ninety miles from São Miguel, was home to a small joint Portuguese–U.S. Air Force base where her dad had been stationed for a couple of
years. The Azores had been an important refueling pit stop for transatlantic flights ever since the 1930s.

Their flight to Terceira on a small commuter plane was short but slightly bumpy. Fortunately Julia had taken more airplane rides than ninety percent of the population and wasn't fazed at all. She did enjoy holding his hand, even if she wasn't nervous.

They touched down smoothly on the runway and within a few minutes were driving away in a small rental car. “The airport's much different than I remember—they've remodeled it since we were last here.”

“Nothing stays the same,” Frank told her. “Not even my villa on Belas Aguas that was firmly stuck in the past, décor-wise.”

“Benedito did his best to update that. And we still need to tackle his Experiments in Red, kind of like Picasso's Blue Period. Or maybe not.”

He groaned. “Oh, yes, he's just too avant-garde and hip for a stuffy aristocrat like me.”

Julia laughed. “You just can't appreciate an
artiste
ahead of his time.”

“Here's the base entrance. Would you like to see if they'll let us drive onto the base?”

“That would be wonderful.” After being thoroughly vetted from their driver's licenses and the rental car inspected top and bottom, the base's guards gave them a temporary pass and let them through.

Julia eagerly scanned the base, recognizing some of the older buildings. “They've added a new hotel and I think that office building is new.” Her eyes started to sting at being back at one of her childhood homes. She'd had so many and had never returned to any of those air bases, a typical military kid. “Oh, Frank.”

“I know, I know.” He patted her knee. “That office building is ugly enough to make you cry. Why, oh, why can't they find good architects?”

She burst into laughter at his attempt to cheer her. The office building was really ugly, but she was so used to military architecture that she barely noticed. “I'm glad you brought me.” She wiped her eyes.

“I've been to Terceira before but not visited the base.” Frank looked around in interest. “This is a little American town in the middle of the Azores. Some of the houses look kind of Azorean, but the rest is solidly American.”

Julia pointed to the green hills behind the base. “And that is solidly Azorean. But the American airmen and the Azorean townspeople get along very well.”

“Just like you and me.” Frank pulled over near a small playground where preschoolers swung and climbed. “A good mix of America and the Azores.” He took her hand. “Have you thought any more about visiting me at my ranch?”

Julia bit her lip and immediately let go, but he'd spotted her nervousness. “Yes, I have thought about it and it sounds fun.” That was an understatement. “But I still have my job back in Boston. I've been gone quite a while already and I need to go back as soon as I'm able.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line. “I know you love your work, but it's dangerous. You're the perfect example of someone who is only trying to help people and gets terribly injured. You could have been killed.”

“I'm not ready to give up my work.”
It's the only thing I have,
she almost said. She took a deep breath, realizing that wasn't true. She had her family and her friends. And now she had Frank. She looked out the
car window at the children, screaming with glee. “But I will think about coming to the mainland to see your estate. It sounds lovely.”

He grinned at her compromise. She wasn't very good at compromising, so she must have startled him. “It is lovely, sunny, warm and dry almost year round. At the top of one of the hills you can see twenty miles in all directions, the land spreading out below you like a brown-and-green quilt.”

After a long, cold Boston winter,
sunny, warm and dry
was magic to her ears.

Her stomach growled and Frank laughed. “Can I bribe you further with lunch?” He started the car and drove away from the playground.

“Yes, but let's go off base for that. The restaurant here specializes in cheeseburgers and sandwiches, and I'd like to try the local food.”

He agreed and they finished their driving tour of the airbase. Julia made a silent vow to visit some of the other places she'd lived as a child. She'd parked herself in Boston for years and not traveled out of New En gland, maybe as a reaction to moving so often when she was younger.

Frank drove out of the gates and toward the town. The village was crowded for a weekday, and they finally slipped into a parking space on a side street.

“I wonder what's going on today.” Julia looked up and down the sidewalk. Young men laughed and jostled each other while the young women pranced along the uneven sidewalk.

“Must be a festival.” Frank spotted an older woman selling fruit drinks from a cart and started chatting with her. He broke into a grin, his white teeth flashing.

Julia raised her eyebrows when he returned, excitement pulsing through him. “What is it?”

“There are going to be bullfights throughout the day and everyone is welcome to try.”

“Bullfights?” Julia had a hazy memory of her dad warning her to stay away from them.

“Not the Spanish kind,
meu bem,
” he reassured her. “The Azorean kind where the bull doesn't get hurt. Just a little bit annoyed.” He laughed. “Annoyed bulls—my favorite kind.”

“You're not thinking of fighting them, are you?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It's not a fight—more of a taunt.”

She shook her head. “You have to be crazy to consider it.”

“I know what I'm doing and I'm sober, unlike most of the guys here. Besides, you're not the only one with a taste for danger.”

She pursed her lips like a fussy old lady.

“Oh, the look on your face.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tight mouth. She relaxed grudgingly and he gave her one last kiss before letting her go.

“I just don't want you to get hurt, Franco,” she told him, using her pet name for him.

“If you think I want to get gored or stepped on, think again. Hard to make love to you with broken ribs,” he murmured seductively.

“You do know how to charm an emergency room nurse,” she said wryly. “Maybe they're finished for the day?”

“No, they usually bring three or four bulls and rotate them.”

“Great.”

He laughed and hurried her down the street. “Come on, you'll like it.”

The street was barricaded to traffic a couple blocks later, leftover cardboard tied to protect decorative railings. Julia realized that was so the bull couldn't stick his horns through and possibly gore someone.