Searching For Her Prince (3 page)

“No, I’m not. It’s a stopover where I catch a few hours sleep. My office down the hall has a more lived-in quality.” He motioned past the living room. “In fact, you’d probably even find candy-bar wrappers on the desk.”

He crooked his finger at her. “Come here. This is what I wanted to show you.”

On his way to the French doors, he pushed a button on the wall and soft music flowed from unseen speakers. After he opened the doors onto the balcony, he held his hand out to her.

When she joined him outside, the city lay before them—twinkling lights, tall buildings, neon signs. “Now I know why you live here.”

There were cushy outdoor chairs on the balcony, and she laid her purse on the table between them and went to stand at the railing. The air was much cooler than it had been during the day, but it felt great after being in the stuffy club.

“I guess we should have gone to the theater instead of the club.” He was trying to think about something other than her slightly fuller lower lip, her long eyelashes, her satinlike skin.

Facing him, she murmured, “Then I might not have come here.”

The way she said it, he knew she wanted to be here with him.

A slow dreamy melody poured from the speakers, and all he could think about was holding her in his arms. “Would you like to dance?”

Instead of answering, she just stepped closer to him. He took her into his embrace. He’d been waiting all day to do this, waiting all day to lean his cheek against hers, breathe in her wonderful perfume, and feel her body close to his. They danced together as if they’d been doing it for years. Maybe that was because they fitted together so perfectly. Maybe that was because they didn’t really care about the music, but rather each other. As minutes ticked by, as the lights of the city below twinkled, they were hardly aware of one song passing into the next. Marcus only knew
his heart beat in rhythm with hers, and the heat between them could have warded off the chill if it had been ten below.

Slowly Amira lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “You gave me a wonderful day today. I’ll remember it always.”

She was talking as if she’d never see him again. That was what he’d planned. In fact, in the back of his mind, he’d decided he would take her to bed tonight if she was willing and say goodbye in the morning. But now he knew she was too innocent for a one-night stand, and he couldn’t do that to her. He also knew that one day of being with her wasn’t enough. She’d brought light and sunshine into his life again, and he wasn’t ready to give that up.

“You told me you like to jog in the mornings, but you’ve been afraid to do it here. We could jog in Lincoln Park tomorrow morning if you’d like.”

“Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Another day won’t hurt. I’m going on a vacation on Sunday, anyway. I’ll just start it sooner than I planned. Is eight o’clock too early?”

She shook her head. “Eight will be fine.”

And then he couldn’t be with her and not kiss her any longer. His hand slid to her neck into her luxurious hair. She’d worn it down today, and it was silky and soft. The style made her look a lot less proper.

As he held her, she tipped her chin up, and he knew she wanted the kiss as much as he did. Where they’d fallen into the first kiss with a ferocity that had stunned them both, he took this one slowly, easing them into it. When his tongue laved her lower lip, she opened her mouth to him. With the lights of the city below and music enfolding them, he felt bowled over
by her. He’d never felt that way before. He’d always been the one in control, the one who called the shots. Danger signals went off in his head, but he quieted them with the idea that this could never be serious, that they’d never have the time to get truly involved. Even if they did go to bed together tomorrow or the next day, they both knew that would be the end of it. Their lives were an ocean apart. This was just one of those flings that happened on a weekend or over a holiday.

As he took the kiss deeper, the warning bells kept sounding.

Before his control snapped altogether, he pulled away. “I think I’d better introduce you to my housekeeper.” Flora was just what they needed—a chaperone. Besides, he wanted to prove to Amira that he hadn’t been lying to her and he
did
have a housekeeper.

You’re lying to her about who you are.

No, I’m not, he thought quickly. I just haven’t told her my real name.

Amira looked as dazed by the kiss as he felt. “That would be a good idea. Then I’d better go.”

He saw she felt it, too—the need to be more than friends, the need to do more than kiss. But he wouldn’t take advantage of her—not her shyness or her innocence or her proper upbringing.

Taking her hand, he led her inside to a snack of tea and cookies rather than their first night of passion.

Amira was as fascinated by the city as she was everything else about the United States—even more fascinated by Brent running beside her. He was wearing shiny black running shorts. His legs were hair-
roughened, his thighs powerfully muscular. His soft black T-shirt was loose. As he ran, it molded to his well-defined muscles, and she could see the power in his body. She was sure he was slowing his pace so she could keep up.

Brent glanced over at her often, and she didn’t know if that was because of her hot-pink running suit in the latest fabric for sportswear or because he just wanted to look at her. She knew she’d be a sight at the end of their run. She always was. She’d banded her hair into a ponytail, but strands escaped and floated around her face.

A few joggers passed them as they ran along a wide path. Amira tried to keep her attention on her breathing rather than on Brent and everything she remembered so vividly whenever she looked at him. He’d given her a perfect day yesterday—absolutely perfect. And that kiss last night…

His first kiss had thrilled her
and
scared her. Last night’s kiss had opened a doorway and given her a glimpse of the kind of passion they could share. That was almost worse than being scared. It was a temptation from which she knew she had to turn away. Everything she’d been taught, all of her mother’s counsel, warned her she was headed for disaster. Yet on this October day, with the sun shining so brightly on her head and in her heart, she couldn’t heed the warning.

“Do you hear that?” Brent asked, suddenly stopping.

Caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard anything unusual. Now she listened and heard a low whine coming from a copse of bushes. “It sounded like an animal.”

“My bet is it’s a dog. Come on, let’s go look.”

Slowly…cautiously…Amira followed.

Pushing away the bushes, Brent hunkered down and looked beneath them. “Hello there, fellow. Are you hurt?”

“What is it?” Amira asked, crouching down herself.

Brent held his hand out to the animal that Amira still couldn’t see.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Brent said as if he expected the animal to understand. “Can I bring you out here?”

Since the animal stood perfectly still and didn’t snarl or bark, Brent gently pulled the dog out into the sunlight.

Amira got her first good look. “Isn’t she adorable? What do you think she is?”

The dog was small, brown—the color of hot chocolate—and bedraggled looking, as if she’d been on her own through days of wet and dry weather. Her fur was muddy and there were leaves clinging to it, but she seemed to like the idea of Brent scratching her between the ears. She barked a few times.

Brent ran his hands carefully over the dog’s body. “Probably a mutt—looks like part beagle. She’s too thin, but other than that, she seems okay. Nothing a good bath wouldn’t fix.” He examined her neck. “No collar or tags.”

“What are we going to do about her?”

“We can’t leave her here. She could eventually run into traffic, or someone might hurt her. She needs food and care.”

“But if she belongs to someone…”

“In case she has one of those identifying computer
chips under her skin, we’ll take her to a vet and get her checked out. Is that okay with you? I know it’s going to cut short our jog.”

“The jog doesn’t matter. We have to take care of her.”

The smile Brent gave her almost made her melt. “It looks as though we’re both animal lovers.”

“Yes, it does.” She was finding so many things about Brent that she liked…too many things. Their gazes locked, and the intensity in his eyes should have scared her, but it didn’t today.

Suddenly the dog barked again, and Brent laughed. “It seems she wants our attention.” He scooped her up into his arms. “Come on, let’s see if she has a home.”

An hour later a vet had checked the dog over thoroughly and agreed that except for needing a bath, she seemed healthy. There was no computer chip in evidence, and he asked Brent what he was going to do.

“I’ll take her home.”

“You’re going to keep her?” Amira asked, a bit surprised by that, since Brent worked so many hours.

“Just for now. I know of a place she’ll be happy. In the meantime, I’ll get her cleaned up and fed well.”

Back at Brent’s penthouse—a half hour later—doggy shampoo in hand, Brent led Amira into his bathroom. It was huge with black and white tiles, a shiny black enamel sink and a huge black whirlpool tub. He filled it while she cooed to the pup and fed her a biscuit they’d gotten from the veterinarian along with other supplies.

“Did you ever have a dog when you were a boy?”
she asked Brent now, as he checked the water to make sure it was the right temperature.

He didn’t answer right away, just concentrated on the water flowing into the tub. Finally he said, “No, I didn’t,” and didn’t elaborate. Something in his tone alerted her to pain behind the simple statement.

“You don’t talk about yourself easily do you?” Even though they’d spent all day yesterday together, she hadn’t learned much about him.

“Usually no one wants to listen,” he said jokingly.

Again she caught some truth behind his words. What makes a man bring home a lost dog? Maybe a loneliness in himself? Maybe knowing what it’s like to feel abandoned? “I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me,” she said softly.

Time ticked by in heartbeats. “I think right now we ought to name the dog,” he finally said. “Any ideas?”

She’d learned already that Brent was good at turning attention away from himself, and she let him do it this time. “I think she’s the color of hot chocolate.”

“How about Cocoa, then?”

“That’s perfect!”

Unmindful she’d been given a name, Cocoa put her paws on the edge of the bathtub and peered into the water. Amira glanced at Brent. He wasn’t watching Cocoa; he was watching
her.

His gaze held her hypnotized as his voice lowered and awareness grew between them. “Thanks for being such a good sport about this. It’s probably not what you envisioned for today.”

With the huskiness in Brent’s voice, the sparks of desire in his eyes, she felt breathless, hot and alto
gether excited. “I’m having fun, and I can’t think of anything better to do than rescue a dog.”

The crackle of electricity between them was so strong Amira tingled all over from it. Then Cocoa barked and Brent picked up the small dog, depositing her in the water. The pup looked startled for a moment and barked a few more times. Brent casually sprinkled water over her as Amira poured the shampoo into her hand.

A few minutes later, after a sudsing and rinse, Cocoa shook to whip the water from her fur. Amira and Brent laughed and again became caught up in enjoying each other’s company. Amira had never before felt a bond like this with a man.

After they dried Cocoa, Brent said, “Let’s go see what Flora’s cooked up for lunch.”

Cocoa wiggled away from Amira’s hand and took off down the hall.

“Do you want to let her loose?” she asked, concerned for his obviously expensive furniture.

“Sure. She’s clean. There’s nothing she can hurt.”

“You said you had a home for her. Where?”

As Brent stood and gathered up the wet towels, he was silent for a few moments. “It’s a place called Reunion House.”

Longing to know more, Amira patiently waited.

“When my brother and I were kids,” Brent explained, “our parents divorced. I stayed with my father. My brother went with my mother to another part of the country. Each of us not only lost one of our parents, we lost each other.”

“Brent, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “We did manage to see each other a month every summer in the house where we were
once all together. It’s on a lake about an hour and a half from here. Anyway, two years ago I bought the property adjacent to it, renovated the old house and called it Reunion House. It’s for foster kids who are separated from their siblings. All they have to do is apply and they can come anytime and spend from a few days up to two weeks together.”

“The project means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” she asked, seeing that it did, hoping he’d tell her more.

“Yes, it does. So does seeing the smiles on those kids’ faces when they’re together. That’s where I’m going for vacation next week.”

His words reminded her they wouldn’t be spending any more time together. Brent would be going his way and she’d be…waiting until Marcus Cordello returned from wherever his jet-setting life took him.

Heading out of the bathroom, Brent asked over his shoulder, “Do you want to take Cocoa for a walk after lunch?”

She should end this adventure right now. Her feelings for Brent were growing, and the more time they spent together, the harder it would be to say goodbye. “I should probably be getting back.”

He stopped in the doorway. “Should you?” His green eyes were intensely dark, intensely questing. Taking her hand, he tugged her toward him and brought it to his lips, kissing her index finger, touching it sensually with his tongue.

Amira almost gasped from the pleasure, and she knew she was going to spend every minute she could with Brent and the consequences be damned.

“Let’s have lunch, then take Cocoa for a walk,” she whispered.

A
s Marcus and Amira walked Cocoa, Marcus couldn’t imagine having a more enjoyable afternoon. Cocoa did well on a leash, though she often tried to pull ahead. They took turns leading her, their hands brushing as they passed each other the handle. Marcus’s state of aroused awareness made the afternoon exciting, but frustrating as well. He wanted to take Amira to bed, yet so many things stopped him, especially the innocence he saw in her beautiful eyes.

Cocoa saw a piece of wind-tossed foil on the sidewalk, jumped, barked and took off after it. Amira ran with her, and Marcus took longer strides to keep up with her. They laughed as Cocoa put her nose in the foil and pushed it.

After they walked at a leisurely pace again, Marcus’s elbow rubbed Amira’s, and he didn’t move away from the contact. “I’m afraid she belongs to someone.”

“She does seem leash trained. And she obeys ‘sit’ commands.”

“Someone could really miss her. I think I’ll take a picture of her and make up flyers. Fritz could distribute them and put them up on bulletin boards in the area. The pound is already on the alert if someone calls there. I can also notify other veterinarians.”

Amira looked up at him with admiration in her eyes. “You’re a nice man, Brent Carpenter.”

He’d talked with both Flora and Fritz about calling him Brent Carpenter. They were used to doing whatever he wanted and hadn’t lifted an eyebrow. He assured himself he had a good reason for keeping up the charade. He wasn’t being completely honest with Amira because she was never going to meet Marcus Cordello. He’d make sure of that, because he wanted nothing to do with her whole fantastic story.

As Cocoa led them toward a tree, Marcus asked Amira, “What do you do as a member of royalty? I mean, do you just wander around the palace? Do you plan state events?”

“You must think I have a very useless existence.”

He could tell she was half teasing and half serious. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just don’t quite understand what it means to be a lady.”

“In my case, it doesn’t mean much at all. Yes, I live at the palace, but I lead a fairly normal life. I do assist the queen whenever I can, but thanks to her, I’m enrolled in a private academy and earning a degree in landscape design. I need meaningful work to do, too, Brent, just like everyone else. As far as the royal life goes, soon I’m going to move out of the palace and get my own place.”

“How will the queen feel about that?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t discussed it with her. But I need my own life. I’d like to be an ordinary person—no guards, no escorts, no palace. I want to come and go as I please and not have to answer to anyone.”

Those might be some of the reasons she wanted her own place, but a sixth sense told him there was more to it. “You don’t want to be queen someday?”

She laughed. “Goodness, no. I don’t even want to be a princess. Being a royal is not as easy as you might think. There are secrets and state responsibilities and a loyalty to Penwyck that comes before all else. When I marry, I want my marriage to be the most important thing in my life, not second to what the country needs.”

That was the real reason she wanted to distance herself from the royal life, he decided. But her mention of marriage and how important it was to her disconcerted him. He’d never seen a marriage that worked. He’d never witnessed two people actually becoming one. He understood everything she’d said, though, and he admired her for knowing what she did and didn’t want. Ever since he’d been a teenager, his studies, his investments and work had come first. That’s how he envisioned his life. Yet Rhonda’s death had taught him that work could blind a man to things he should see. Yesterday and again today with Amira, he found himself completely blocking work from his mind…something he’d never done before.

Cocoa stopped walking, came over to Marcus, looked up at him, then hopped up on two legs putting her paws on his knees. “Does that mean you want me to carry you?” he asked with a wry note.

She barked at him twice.

“That’s a definite yes,” Amira translated with a smile twitching the corners of her lips.

Scooping the dog up into his arms, Marcus laughed as Cocoa licked his face. Yes, if she had an owner he was going to do his best to locate them. He knew what it felt like to be displaced. He remembered the move from the home on the lake to the city with his father. He remembered the room at boarding school where he’d first found the financial world to keep himself from thinking about the stepmother who didn’t want him and the father who didn’t want to rock his new marriage. Most of all he remembered the tearing separation from Shane. Yep, he certainly wanted to return Cocoa to a home if she had one.

Home meant different things to different people. His home was still Shady Glenn. Because of the memories there? He couldn’t imagine having a palace for a home. Thinking about what Amira had said concerning the life of a princess, Marcus was even more sure he was doing the best thing by keeping his identity a secret.

With Cocoa asking to be carried, Marcus and Amira ended their walk. When they reached his building, Charlie tipped the bill of his hat to Amira and winked at Marcus. He’d also asked the doorman to use his “new” name. Charlie had simply replied, “Whatever you say, sir.”

Sometimes Marcus wished his employees would question him, talk back to him, stand up to him. But he’d learned at a young age that having money gave him power.

They took the elevator to the penthouse, and Flora came to greet them as they stepped inside. His housekeeper was in her fifties, a sturdy woman with a con
genial smile that touched everyone she met. Her light brown hair was styled in a no-nonsense short cut, and she always wore jade earrings in her ears claiming they brought her luck.

Now she held out four pink message notes to him. “Barbra said these take precedence, sir.”

Marcus quickly glanced at Amira. Had she caught the first name of his secretary when she’d sat in his reception area? Apparently not. She was removing Cocoa’s leash, totally unconcerned with what Flora had to say to him.

Flora went on, “She said she wouldn’t have bothered you, but these are important.”

Taking the message sheets, surprised by the reluctance he felt to deal with them—he usually handled his responsibilities with alacrity—he realized he couldn’t forget he was Marcus Cordello for very long.

Amira must have heard some of the conversation because she rose to her feet and approached him. “If you have business to take care of, I really should go.”

He didn’t want her to go, that was the heck of it. He couldn’t help thinking of the possibility of having an intimate dinner with her and taking her to bed tonight, teaching her all about passion, slowly kissing her and touching her until he had his fill of her. Maybe then he could put her out of his head. Maybe then he could think about her going back to Penwyck without a sense of loss.

“Why don’t you let Flora make you a cup of tea? I’ll try to get these calls finished as quickly as I can.”

Flora glanced from one to the other. “I baked fresh blueberry scones.”

Amira smiled at the older woman. “You know how to tempt a girl. Scones are one of my favorite treats.
The cook at the palace always keeps them in the breadbox for me.”

“It’s settled then,” Marcus decided. “I’ll start a fire in the fireplace. You can have your tea and scones there.”

In his mind’s eye he could imagine coming home to Amira at night, sitting in front of the fire, telling her everything he’d never told anyone else. That thought unsettled him. He’d never really confided in a woman. Not even Rhonda. He’d always put work first and kept serious thoughts to himself. Is that why Rhonda hadn’t confided in him about her diabetes? He blamed himself for her death, and he believed he always would.

Cocoa ran over to the sofa, jumped up and curled in the corner.

Flora cast a wary glance at Marcus. “Do you want her there?”

“She’s free to go wherever she wants.” The dog’s comfort was more important than hairs on the couch.

“I’ll remember that,” his housekeeper assured him with a smile and then headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get that tea started.”

Marcus crossed to the fireplace, took out one of the long matches, and touched it to the kindling. The fire leaped up the chimney, and he glanced over his shoulder at Amira who’d curled up beside Cocoa. He couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to carry this royal lady to his bedroom.

After one last long look at her, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” and strode down the hall to his office.

As he sat at his desk, he told himself Amira was
here today and would be gone tomorrow. That was the reality of it. Just how involved did he want to get?

Two hours later Marcus emerged from his office, his second conference call finally completed. So much for finishing with business quickly. Maybe Amira
had
already left. Rhonda used to get tired of waiting for him and she’d take off to do whatever she wanted to do. They’d been together yet apart, were committed to sharing a life yet hadn’t started doing that.

Part of him knew that if Amira
had
left, that would be best. But as he walked into the living room and saw her napping with Cocoa in her lap, he felt the peace and light she brought him return again. He found himself quietly going to the sofa and standing over her, watching the firelight play in her hair, noticing the brush of her lashes against her cheek, the delicate tilt of her nose, her soft, soft skin. She looked so peaceful in sleep. She was such a beautiful woman. Her beauty came from more than her physical appearance. There was a quality about her that was uniquely charming. Maybe it was her kindness…maybe it was her sincerity. Whatever it was, it drew him until he forgot about restraint, forgot about protecting himself from involvement. He bent toward her and gave her a slow, sensual wake-up kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him. “Just like in the fairy tales,” she said in a dreamy voice.

He knew she referred to Sleeping Beauty being awakened by her prince. Straightening, he said gruffly, “I’m no prince.”

He had already proved that. If he hadn’t been so self-involved, Rhonda would still be alive. He never
wanted to feel responsible for another life again, and he certainly didn’t want the responsibility for a whole country. His conference call had reminded him who he was, what he did, and what his life was all about. It certainly wasn’t about princes and fairy tales and ladies who thought men on white chargers could transform their worlds.

He was feeling too much for Amira and that was entirely too dangerous. It was time to put an end to this now. “Something’s come up and I have to take care of it right away. It’s been foolish of me to let responsibilities slide for two days. I hope you understand.” His tone was cool, matter-of-fact, not at all personal.

She looked confused by his manner and his tone, and he was sorry about that. He was sorry he’d kissed her again because every one of those kisses were indelibly engraved in his mind. He needed distance from her now. If he had distance, he’d see how unimportant the past two days had been.

“I see,” she said softly, transferring the sleeping pup from her lap to the sofa. “I guess I’d better be going then.”

When he didn’t dissuade her or say anything else, she stood and he could almost see her wrapping her pride around her. “I saved you a scone.” She nodded to the dish on the table. “But I suppose it’s stale by now. Thank Flora for me, will you?”

“I’ll do that.” It was killing him to let her leave without a touch or a kiss, but he knew if he touched her or kissed her again, he’d want her to stay. That wouldn’t be good for either of them.

She self-consciously brushed back her hair. “I suppose your doorman could hail me a cab.”

“There’s no need for that. I’ll have my driver take you back to your hotel.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I insist. I’ll buzz Fritz and he’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes.”

“All right.”

There were questions in her eyes he didn’t want to answer. There was confusion he couldn’t address.

The silence drew long between them until she gave him a tremulous smile. “I had a lovely time yesterday and today. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He wanted to tell her about all the things he’d felt and thought in the past two days, but he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t used to opening up to anyone, and telling her wouldn’t change anything. He was being more curt than he wanted to be, but he didn’t know how else to end this, how else to let her know he couldn’t see her again.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Amira. I hope you have a good trip back to Penwyck.”

His message must have gotten through loud and clear because her cheeks reddened. “I
will
have a good trip.” Then she went to the foyer, picked up her purse and sweater and opened the penthouse door.

As she left, he felt as if he’d lost someone very important to him.

After Amira left, Marcus tried to work but he couldn’t concentrate. When Flora came to his door and asked him what he’d like for dinner, he told her a sandwich would be fine. She returned a few minutes later with a turkey sandwich, a cup of coffee and her own special corn-and-pepper chowder. But the food didn’t appeal to him any more than the work. Cocoa
ate more of the sandwich than he did. He decided walking the dog might help clear his head.

When he took Cocoa outside, the crisp night air was welcome, the sights and sounds of the city as noisy as ever. But as he walked, he kept seeing Amira as she played with Cocoa, as she rewarded her with a dog biscuit, as she’d hugged her close.

As walks go, it was a short one. Twenty minutes later he was back in his apartment again still feeling restless and unsettled and all together out of sorts. Even Cocoa deserted him as she ran to Flora’s quarters beyond the kitchen.

Marcus returned to his computer, answering e-mails. There was one from Shane, and he decided a phone call would be a lot more satisfying. He tried his brother’s number in California, but no one answered. Shane’s life was entirely different from Marcus’s. He liked to keep everything plain and simple. He told Marcus he never intended to be rich, he just wanted to be happy. His contracting business kept him busy, and he was more likely to spend an evening in a honky-tonk with friends than in an upscale restaurant with business colleagues. Their lives were so different, yet there was a bond between them that could never be broken.