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Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair / From Boardroom to Wedding Bed?: Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair
Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair / From Boardroom to Wedding Bed?: Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair
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Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair / From Boardroom to Wedding Bed?: Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair

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“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He shrugged, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “It isn’t something I like to talk about.”

“Do you see him?”

He shook his head, looking remorseful. “Not for many years.”

“What happened?”

He downed the last of his drink then poured himself another. She wondered if the alcohol was responsible for his sudden loose tongue. He looked so sad. And when had he gotten so old? It was as though the lines on his face had appeared overnight. Or maybe she just hadn’t wanted to see them.

“His mother was a cook for my previous employer,” he told her. “We had an affair and she became pregnant. I did the responsible thing and married her, but it didn’t take long to realize that we were completely incompatible. We stayed together for two years, then finally divorced. But working together was unpleasant for both of us, so we decided it would be best if I left and found a new job. That was when I came to work here.”

“When did you stop seeing your son?”

“When he was six his mother remarried. At first I was jealous, but this man was good to Richard. He treated him like his own son. A year later he was offered a position in England. I objected at first, but my ex pointed out what was obvious. I didn’t have time for my son and his stepfather did. She convinced me that it would be best if I let him go.”

“That must have been devastating for you.”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I tried to keep in touch with phone calls and letters, but we drifted apart. I think he just didn’t need me any longer.”

He looked so sad that tears burned the corners of Anne’s eyes. She reached out and placed a hand on top of his. Learning this was such a shock. Had she never considered that he had a life that she knew nothing about? Had she believed his life hadn’t really begun until he’d come to work for them? That his world was so small and insignificant? “I’m so sorry, Geoffrey.”

Even his eyes looked a bit misty. “I was saddened, but by then I had you and your siblings to chase around. Only now I fear I made a terrible mistake by letting him go.”

He looked so sad it made her want to hug him. “You did what you thought was best. And that doesn’t mean you can’t try to contact him now. Do you have any idea where he lives? What he does for a living?”

“The last time I talked to his mother, he was serving as a Royal Marine Commando.”

“Goodness! That’s impressive.”

“She bragged that he was some sort of computer genius. But that was more than ten years ago.”

“You could at least try to look him up.”

He rubbed his thumb around the rim of his glass. “What if I do, and I don’t like what I find?”

She wondered why he would think a thing like that. He should at least try to find him.

Geoffrey swallowed the last of his drink and looked at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight. I should turn in. And so should you, young lady.”

She smiled. He hadn’t called her that in years. “Yes, sir.”

As he walked past her to his quarters behind the kitchen he patted her shoulder. She was struck by how his capable hands were beginning to look wrinkled and bony.

She looked down and realized she hadn’t taken a single sip of her tea, and now it had gone cold.

The king had been out of the public eye for such a long period of time that Sam was genuinely stunned when he saw him the following afternoon. Though he knew the king was in ill health, never had he expected him to look so pale and fragile. Practically swimming in too-large flannel pajamas and a bulky robe—that Sam was sure had probably fit him at one time—the king looked painfully thin and small. A mere shell of the larger-than-life figure he used to be. And it was obvious that the months of sitting at his side had visibly taken their toll on Anne’s mother. The queen looked utterly exhausted and beaten down. Her features, once bright and youthful, now looked drawn and tired, as though she had aged a decade in only months.

But the grief they suffered did nothing to dampen their joy when Sam announced his intention to marry Anne and asked them for her hand. Though the king may have been physically fragile, when it came to his mental faculties, he was clearly all there. “I had hoped you would do the right thing, Sam,” the king told him. “For my grandchild’s sake.”

“Of course you’ll want to have the wedding soon,” the queen told Anne. “Before you’re really showing.”

For a moment Sam felt slighted, since they had agreed to tell her parents together, then he glanced over at Anne, saw her stunned expression, and realized that she hadn’t said a word.

So much for the news being too much for the king’s heart to take, Sam thought wryly. His children obviously underestimated him.

“I’m going to kill Louisa!” Anne growled, looking as though she would do just that. “Or was it Chris who snitched?”

Sam folded his arms across his chest and casually covered his mouth to hide a grin. So this was the feisty side of Anne he had heard so much about. He kind of liked it.

“No one said a word,” the queen assured her. “They didn’t have to. I know my daughter.”

“And though I may be an invalid,” the king added, shooting a meaningful look Sam’s way, “I stay well-informed as to what goes on in my castle.”

Things like Sam sneaking out of his daughter’s bedroom in the wee hours of the morning.

The king chuckled weakly. “Don’t look so chastened. I was a young man once, too, you know.” He looked over at his wife and smiled. “And there was a time when I did my fair share of sneaking around.”

The queen reached over and took his hand and they shared a smile. It was clear that despite all they had been through, or maybe because of it, they were still deeply in love. Sam hoped that someday it would be like that for him and Anne.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Anne asked, looking genuinely distressed.

“Sweetheart,” her mother said. “You’ve always been one to take your time and work things through. I assumed that when you were ready for us to know, you would tell us. And if you needed my guidance, you would have asked for it.”

“You’re not upset?” Anne asked, looking a bit like a naughty child who feared a sound lashing for misbehaving.

“Are you happy?” the king asked her.

She looked over at Sam and smiled. “I am. Very happy.”

“Then what do I have to be upset about?”

“Well, the baby—”

“Is a blessing,” the queen said.

Their casual attitude toward the situation surprised Sam, but then, after all they had been through, and knowing the king was living on borrowed time, what point would there be to make a huge fuss and create hard feelings?

Sam had always respected the king, but never so much as he did now. And despite what his father believed about them thinking differently, they seemed to be exceptionally well grounded in reality.

“I assume that you intend to live here, at the castle,” the king said.

Anne glanced nervously his way. Where they would live hadn’t yet come up, but Sam knew what was expected. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“And of course you will work for the royal family.”

Sam nodded. “I would be honored.”

“Have you thought about what colors you would like for your wedding?” the queen asked Anne.

“Yellow, I think,” Anne said, and she and her mother drifted off to discuss wedding plans while Sam spoke to the king about his future position in the monarchy. He assured Sam that his talents would not be wasted, nor would they go unrewarded. Sam’s inheritance guaranteed him a financially sound future, so salary wasn’t an issue, but he was happy to know they valued his service. And relieved that under the circumstances, this entire situation was running as smoothly as a well-oiled machine.

So well that, were he not such a positive thinker, he might be waiting for the other shoe to fall.

The following Friday, with only the royal family, Sam’s parents and a few close friends in attendance, Sam and Anne were wed in a small, private ceremony in the garden on the palace grounds. The weather couldn’t have been more ideal. Sunny and clear with a temperature in the low seventies.

Louisa was the matron of honor and Sam’s older brother, Adam, flew in from England to be his best man. A musician and composer, Adam couldn’t have been less interested in politics, yet the artist in him understood Sam’s lifelong passion, and his desire to follow in their father’s footsteps.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked Sam just before the ceremony was about to begin. “If you’re doing this to salvage the princess’s reputation—”

“I’m doing this because my child deserves to have parents who are married.”

“A one-night fling does not make for a lasting relationship, Sam. You barely know her. If the royal family is forcing you into this—” “This is my choice, and mine alone.” Adam shook his head, as though Sam were a lost cause. Then he grinned and said, “My baby brother, a duke. Who would have thought?”

Sam appreciated his brother’s concern, that after all these years Adam was still looking out for him. But Sam had already put the political chapter of his life behind him. He’d spent the last two days cleaning out his office at work since, as of that morning, he had been given the official title of duke and by law could no longer serve in government. His secretary, Grace, had tearfully said goodbye, telling him what an exceptional boss he’d been and how she would miss him. She said she was proud of him.

“I know I haven’t been the most efficient secretary and I appreciate your patience with me.”

Of course he felt guilty as hell for all the times he’d gotten frustrated and snapped at her or regarded her impatiently.

After he and Anne returned from their honeymoon Sam would take up his new position with the monarchy. He couldn’t say he was thrilled by the prospect, but he was trying to keep an open mind and a positive attitude. At least they didn’t try to force him into their agricultural business. A farmer, he was not. He didn’t know the first thing about managing farmland and raising crops. Nor did he have any inclination to learn.

His new goal was to surpass his new position as foreign affairs director and when Chris officially became king, become his right hand.

The music began, and Sam looked up to see Anne and her father taking their places. She wore a crème-colored floor-length dress with layers of soft silk ruffles. But even that did little to disguise the fact that she was pregnant. Not that everyone there didn’t already know. He would swear that since she had come to see him last week her tummy had nearly doubled in size. But as far as he was concerned it only made her look more ravishing.

Her hair was piled up on her head in loose curls with soft wisps trailing down to frame her face. And of course she wore a jewel-encrusted tiara.

Everyone stood to receive her, and Sam watched, mesmerized as she walked slowly toward him, looking radiant. She seemed to glow from the inside out with happiness.

It was obvious, the way the king clung to her arm as he walked her down the short path, that it was taking every bit of strength he could muster to make the short trip. But he did it with grace and dignity.

Here we go, Sam thought, as the king linked his and Anne’s hands together. It was the end of life as he once knew it. But as they spoke their vows and exchanged rings, instead of feeling cornered or trapped, he felt a deep sense of calm. He took that as a sign that he truly was doing the right thing. Maybe not just for their child, but for the two of them, as well.

Following the ceremony, drinks and hors d’oeuvres were served under a tent on the castle grounds. After a bit of mingling, Sam stood by the bar, watching his new wife. She was chatting with his brother and Adam seemed quite taken with her. Under the circumstances Sam might have expected some tension between their families, but everyone seemed to get along just fine. Almost too well.

Price Christian stepped up to the bar to get a drink, and told Sam, “Nice wedding.”

Sam nodded. “It was.”

He got his drink then turned to stand beside Sam. “I’ve never seen my sister so happy.”

She did look happy. And Sam was glad that his family had the chance to see this side of her, the one so unlike what they had read in the press and heard about through the rumor mill. He liked to think of this Anne as his Anne, the real woman inside, whom he had rescued from an existence of negativity and despair.

They had done a lot of talking this week in preparation for their wedding and she’d opened up about some of the past men in her life. The ones who had used and betrayed her. After all she had been through, it was a wonder she hadn’t lost her ability to trust entirely.

She saw him watching her and flashed him a smile.

“Your sister deserves to be happy,” Sam told the prince.

“I think so, too.” Then he added with a wry grin, “And if you ever do hurt her, I’ll have to hurt you back.”

Sam was quite sure, despite the prince’s smile, it was said only partly in jest. “I’ll keep that in mind, Your Highness.”

From across the tent a baby’s cry split the quiet murmur of conversation and they both turned to see Princess Melissa wrestling with two squirming bundles.

“I guess that’s my cue,” the prince said. He started to walk away, then stopped and said, “By the way, since we’re family now, you can drop the ‘Your Highness’ thing and just call me Chris.”

“After all these years of addressing you formally, that might take some getting used to.”

“Tell me about it,” Chris said with a grin before he walked off to rescue his wife.

Sam felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Anne standing there.

She slipped her arm through his and tucked herself close to his side and said excitedly, “Can you believe it, Sam? We’re married.”

“Strange, isn’t it?”

“Do you think it’s odd that I’m so happy?”

“Not at all.” He leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips. “I would be worried if you weren’t.”

“How soon do you think we can sneak out of here? I’m guessing that we could squeeze in some alone time before we leave for our honeymoon.”

He was about to say, as soon as possible, when an explosion pierced his ears and shook the ground beneath his feet. Startled cries from the guests followed and Anne screeched in surprise. Sam instinctively shielded her with his body and looked in the direction of the sound as a ball of fire and smoke billowed up from the north side of the castle. At first he could hardly believe what he was seeing—his first instinct was to get Anne somewhere safe as quickly as possible—but before he had an instant to act, the entire area was crawling with security.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Anne demanded, shoving past him to see, and when she saw the flames and smoke darkening the clear blue afternoon sky, the color drained from her face.

Security was already rounding everyone up and guiding them in the opposite direction, away from the blast.

“It’s him,” Anne said, looking more angry than afraid, watching as acrid smoke began to blow in their direction. “The Gingerbread Man did this.”

Threatening e-mails and occasional pranks were an annoyance, but this was a serious escalation. He was obviously out of control. If it was even him. “For all we know it could be an accident,” he told her.

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s him. And this time he’s gone too far.”

Six

As Anne had suspected, the explosion had been deliberate.

The device had been hidden in the undercarriage of a car that belonged to Sam’s aunt and uncle. The police bomb squad still had investigating to do, but as far as they could tell, the bomb had been detonated remotely.

Four other cars had been damaged in the blast and the castle garage had taken a serious hit. Four of the five doors would need to be replaced and the facade would require repair. Thankfully, no people had been seriously hurt. He’d had the decency to do it when there weren’t a lot of people close by. Or maybe that had just been dumb luck. A few maintenance people walked away with mild abrasions and first-degree burns, but it could have been so much worse.

Sam’s poor aunt and uncle, whose car had been sabotaged, were beside themselves with guilt. They felt responsible, even though Anne and her siblings assured them repeatedly that they were in no way being blamed. There was only one person responsible for this.

The Gingerbread Man.