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Commander's Little Surprise

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Год написания книги
2018
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Maybe she hadn’t been his mystery woman after all.

THERE WAS a light knock on Victoria’s bedroom door. She lay curled up in the center of her bed, a book lying unread beside her. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Come in, Lydia.”

Lydia entered her bedroom. “I saw your light under the door, my dear. I wanted to say good-night.”

Victoria smiled sadly. Dear Lydia seemed to know how much she missed her husband. He had been almost thirty years older than her. Rolande had had steel-gray hair at his temples and a trim body of a much younger man. A twentieth-century man in the twenty-first century, he had been courtly and respected. “You don’t have to have permission to enter my bedroom, Lydia. You know you’re always welcome here.”

Lydia smiled. “I know. I just didn’t want to disturb you. I wanted to see if you had actually fallen asleep with the light on.”

“I was only thinking,” Victoria said.

“Of Rolande?”

“Yes.”

Lydia smiled sadly. “How could I forget such a fine man? It is a shame he had to die under such circumstances.”

Victoria studied Lydia and sensed it hadn’t only been the light that had attracted her. There was a questioning expression on her dear face. She stirred uneasily. “Is there something wrong?”

Lydia laughed. “I was about to ask you the same question, Vicky. You know me too well.”

“As you seem to know me. What is it?”

“I am still troubled by your reaction to the invitation to your cousin’s housewarming. I also noticed you appeared unhappy when you returned home.” Lydia paused and studied her for a long, deep moment. “You look disturbed now, my dear. Did you meet someone tonight out of your past?”

Victoria smiled ruefully. “How did you guess?”

“I’m no fool, Vicky. Only such a meeting could have left you looking so unhappy.” Lydia studied her for a long moment. “You haven’t forgotten your bargain with Rolande, have you?”

Victoria bravely met Lydia’s gaze. They had always been honest with each other. She would be honest now.

“No, of course not. Rolande meant too much to me.”

Lydia hesitated, then went on. “I also would like to remind you how important it is you let someone know if there is a problem.”

Although she smiled her agreement, Victoria felt guilty when she recalled the way she’d reacted when she’d been introduced to Dan. “I know. As I said a moment ago, you know me too well. The meeting tonight meant nothing to me.”

“Then, you have nothing to fear, Vicky,” Lydia said. “Just remember, you’ve always had me to watch over you. Even now.”

“I know, and I love you all the more for it,” Victoria replied. “You’ve always been more than a friend to me.”

Lydia nodded. “Then I will say good-night, my dear. Sleep well.”

Victoria sank back against her pillows. If Rolande had been alive, she would have asked him to stay the night with her. She would have thrown back the bedcovers and invited him to join her. To stay and hold her in his arms. He had always made her feel so safe.

Victoria closed her eyes. If Rolande had been able to make love with her, she would have welcomed him. Instead, they both had had to be satisfied with their situation and with the strong bond they’d forged between them.

Her thoughts turned pensive.

She had discovered, and only by chance, that her anxious parents had arranged her marriage to Rolande because he had been a man old enough and wise enough to ensure her safety and happiness in a world that, in their opinion, had gone awry as proven by her cousin’s marriage to an American naval officer.

When she had come to Rolande with the truth before their wedding, he had been honest with her. He, too, had a secret to share. They would do well together, he’d told her as they made their bargain. Impotent, a child to carry on his name had been his dearest wish.

There was no way she would betray the trust Rolande had placed in her.

Chapter Four

In the morning, Victoria awoke to find sunlight streaming through the lace curtains on the bedroom windows. The distant sound of a vacuum cleaner outside the door told her she’d overslept.

She’d been exhausted from worrying over her reaction to meeting Dan O’Hara again.

Poor Rolande, she mused guiltily as she turned over and stared at the carved ceiling above the bed. Even knowing he hadn’t been able to meet her needs, he’d always tried to be kind and compassionate. He’d deserved so much more from her than her gratitude then. Even in death he deserved her loyalty.

How loyal could she be to his memory when she wasn’t able to put her long-ago encounter with Dan in the past where it belonged? How loyal could she be when just the memory of Dan’s tongue tracing her lips and his hands stroking her breasts caused molten heat to engulf her?

A knock on the door saved her from her runaway erotic thoughts. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was long past the time when she was usually up and around. “Come in, Lydia!”

Her long-time companion entered the room carrying Caroline, Victoria’s baby daughter. To Victoria’s dismay, tears had formed in the baby’s velvety blue eyes. One look at her mother and the baby held out her arms.

“It’s almost ten o’clock and this little imp has been crying for you for the past ten minutes,” Lydia said. “I tried to distract the little darling, but she doesn’t want her nanny or me. She wants only her mama to give her her bath.”

Right on cue, Caroline babbled what sounded like mama.

Tickled that Caroline was beginning to talk, Victoria reached for the baby. “Come here, sweetheart,” she said with a wide smile to cover her aching heart. There was nothing better to chase away her unhappiness than holding her baby daughter.

Victoria rubbed noses with the babbling little girl and kissed the tiny hands that pulled at her face and hair. It was true. Whenever it was possible, Caroline’s bathing ritual was kept for her, at her request. She looked forward to the moments when she would wash Caroline’s soft baby skin, dry her with a warmed towel and rub her tiny body with sweet-smelling baby powder. It was in these moments that she could forget the disturbing moments in the past and allow herself to enjoy the present.

“I’m sorry,” she told Lydia with a wry grin. “I’m afraid I was worn-out after May’s housewarming party last night.”

Victoria hid her face in Caroline’s tummy and blew air bubbles. If ever she needed to remember what she could lose if she allowed the past to intrude, these precious moments with the baby were a reminder.

Lydia busied herself with hanging up the dress Victoria had worn last night. “Have you forgotten May invited you to tea this afternoon?”

“No, I haven’t.” Victoria pulled a lock of her hair out of Caroline’s fist and kissed each dimple on each tiny knuckle before she threw back the bedcovers. “In fact, I am particularly eager to speak to my cousin—the sooner the better.”

“So?” Lydia peeked out from the closet. “Something did happen at the housewarming to upset you?”

“I’m afraid so. Please stay for a few moments, Lydia.” She gave Caroline a hairbrush to distract her. “I met a man at May’s housewarming last night, Dan O’Hara. You were right. He’s the American I met at May’s wedding.”

Lydia gasped and covered her lips with her fingers. “He recognized you?”

“Maybe. I honestly don’t know. I insisted I wasn’t the woman he thought he remembered before I left. I think I managed to discourage him, but I didn’t remain long enough to find out.”

Lydia shook her head and took the brush out of Caroline’s mouth. “I sensed you were upset when you came home last night, but I never imagined anything like this. What are you going to do now?”

“Do? Nothing,” Victoria answered firmly. As if she needed a reminder of who she was today, she glanced at the lace curtains embroidered with the Baronovian coat of arms. The symbols reminded her she was a member of the royal family and had been married to her country’s ambassador before she had assumed the post upon his untimely death. “I made a bargain with Rolande and I intend to keep it,” she said softly. “I will never do anything to hurt his memory.”

Guilt flooded her again. She had to forget Dan. She had to forget the touch of his lips against her throat out on the patio last night and the thrill of having his hand caress her bare back.
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