Royal Affair (9 page)

“Do tell.” Trent gave her an ironic, albeit sympathetic, smile and returned to his seat. “So, little sis, what's next on your agenda?”

Katie spoke while Ivy tried to come up with an answer. “Max wants to marry her.”

“And what do you want?” he asked Ivy.

She shrugged and ate another pretzel. “I don't know. He says we must marry. For the child. It's his heir and everyone in Lantanya knows, so… But I never thought…I mean, royalty and all that—”

“Princess Ivy,” Katie broke in. “No!
Queen
Ivy! Oh, my gosh!”

Ivy nodded in despair. “I know. It makes no sense.”

The intercom buzzed. With a glare at the interruption, Trent answered. “Yes?” Then, “Send him in,” he said to his secretary. His eyes settled on Ivy. “Max is here.”

Ivy had little time to prepare before Max was in the room, the door shut behind him. “Has Ivy told you her apartment was bugged?” he asked Trent.

Her brother looked thunderous as he muttered an expletive. “What else is going on that I don't know about?”

“That's what Chuck and I are trying to discover. Is this about me and Ivy? Or about Crosby Systems?”

“Or something entirely different that we haven't thought of,” Katie added.

They all looked at her.

She held up her hands. “I don't know of anything, but we had better consider all the angles.”

Max pulled up a chair and joined the group. Trent poured a cup of coffee and handed it across the desk. “Well, there was an attempt on my life in July. When Ivy was in my country,” he added, his dark, exciting gaze on her.

“I heard about that.” Trent gave the other man a hard stare. “Your uncle and a minister were arrested.”

“And sentenced to life in prison.”

Although Max spoke calmly, Ivy couldn't be so sanguine. “How dare they try to hurt you,” she said, fierce and protective on his behalf.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “The rose shows her thorns,” he declared softly, then released her.

“Is it safe for you to be out of the country?” Trent asked Max.

“Yes. In addition to the half brother, who is an acknowledged illegitimate son of my grandfather, my father had a younger brother. My uncle, Jean Claude Maxwell von Husden, is the minister of finance. He is a bulldog when it comes to the welfare of the kingdom.”

“You can trust him?” Ivy demanded.

Max smiled gently at her. “Yes. He is the one who alerted me to possible trouble. Chuck already had his doubts about my half uncle's loyalty.”

Ivy huffed in fury that his relative had wanted Max dead. Catching Katie's and Trent's eyes on her, she felt her cheeks grow warm while her heart knocked around her rib cage like a bumper car gone wacko.

Her brother steepled his fingers together as he thought. “There was another problem around the same time, maybe a little earlier,” he said.

“Here at your company?” Max asked.

With a quick shake of his head, Trent explained.
“It was something to do with that clinic where Ivy does volunteer work.”

She drew back in surprise. “Children's Connection?”

“Yes,” Trent said. “That case involved a foreign country, too. Russia. Someone tried to steal a baby from the adoptive mother, but the State Department intervened.”

“How do you know this?” Max asked.

“From a friend. Miles Remington is on the board of the adoption agency. He was telling me about it recently.”

“The agency handles adoptions from Russia?” Max obviously found this a bit odd.

“The government has clamped down on abortion as a means of birth control, I understand, so I imagine there are more babies available there now.” Trent gestured to indicate he didn't know more.

“I can't see how that involves us.” Max ran his gaze over Ivy. “Unless they're planning on stealing this baby when it comes…and that is a thing I won't allow.”

A shiver of dread chased down Ivy's spine at his ominous tone. He was like a lion, the leader of his pack and its defender. He would be as fierce in battle as he was gentle in making love.

Clenching her teeth together, she frantically directed her mind to concentrate on the possible danger, not the all-too-definite passion.

Max directed his attention to Trent. “I want per
mission for my security chief to work directly with the head of Crosby Systems security. Chuck is sure we nipped the conspiracy in my country in the bud, as it were. I trust his judgment on this. Then probably company espionage accounts for the bug in Ivy's apartment.”

“The new router software,” Trent immediately said. “Ivy's team wrote a program that makes it the fastest networking system on the market now. There are other companies who'd like to get their hands on it.”

“There was a sweep of your company over the weekend, Chuck says.”

Trent nodded. “Company policy. We regularly check all electronic lines and equipment. Plus, all computers with top-secret info are locked out of Internet connections where they can be hacked into.”

Max glanced at Ivy. She nodded to indicate this was true. “Good,” he said, rising. “I would like to speak to you,” he said directly to her. “If your meeting is finished?” he added politely to her other family members.

“Yes,” Trent said.

His smile surprised Ivy. There was a hint of amusement in it, as if he found the situation between her and Max humorous to some extent. But then his expression went stern as he directed a glare toward Max.

“We will need to discuss other things soon, I think,” he said to Max. “Such as my expected nephew or niece.”

Max stood when her brother did. “Ivy and I have agreed to an engagement,” he informed the others coolly. “We shall marry by the end of the month.”

Before she could do more than splutter indignantly, he ushered her from the room, down the hall and into her own office. There he backed her against the wall, crowding her with his much larger, stronger body.

“This is a trial engagement,” she reminded him hotly, pressing her hands against his chest to hold him off.

“But it is an engagement.” His eyes dared her to contradict him.

“While we get to know each other. While we see if this…if a relationship can work.”

“It can,” he assured her. “I think we know each other quite well, princess.”

His grin stung her dignity. While that magical night had seemed right, even destined, now she was filled with doubts and indecision. She didn't understand how she, quiet, studious Ivy, could have behaved so recklessly.

“I want my child to be born here,” she said stubbornly.

“That can be arranged. Chuck tells me the birthing facilities at Portland General are excellent.”

His big hands glided up her arms, sending spirals of heat down into the inner core of her body. He leaned in close, so close she was surrounded by his aura.

“Don't,” she whispered, aware that the office door
was open, but more aware of his powerful nearness, the sheer masculinity of his presence and the hunger he incited in her.

“Don't touch you? Tell me not to breathe.”

His breath of laughter stirred the hair at her temple. She felt his lips settle there and plant a gentle kiss, then another and another. Her mind went hazy. Thinking was soon going to become impossible.

“Max, this isn't… We shouldn't…”

When his hands closed over her waist, she stopped trying to speak. It was impossible anyway. Her lungs had stopped working.

“Ah, princess,” he murmured, cupping his body into hers and pressing her lightly to the wall.

He was very definitely aroused, she found, as he shifted closer, ever closer. With a quick tug, he moved her hands from between them and up to his shoulders. Then his hands were on her again, one caressing her side while the other took possession of her breast.

With a gasp, she felt the beading of her nipple as a sharp contraction, a pang of excitement that shot all through her, making every nerve ending tingle.

“My sweet rose,” he whispered, nibbling at her earlobe, then moving toward her mouth. “I've missed your taste, the sweet aroma of your body, the silk of your skin.”

Suddenly he was no longer the mysterious prince, but Max, the man who had won her so completely
one soft balmy night in summer when he'd romantically climbed a trellis and presented her with the most beautiful rose of all those growing there.

“Max,” she said, not in protest nor denial, but need, hot and urgent and demanding. A tremor shook her all over.

His embrace tightened. She shifted, instinctively opening her legs a fraction. He slipped a foot between hers and caressed her with his whole body, keeping the delicious thrust of his passion light, teasing, driving her insane with hunger.

She heard laughter in the hall. “Max,” she whispered in panic. “The door. Somebody—”

With a kiss, he cut off the frantic words. Reaching out, he shut the door and clicked the lock into place.

She clung to him, knowing this was madness but unable to refuse the wild rapture he stirred in her. The kiss, the caress went on and on. Their harsh, excited breathing was the only sound for long, long minutes.

At last he drew back. “You are a perfect lover,” he told her after taking a deep breath. “You will also be a charming queen. And a wonderful mother to our children.”

He left after promising to come by for her at quitting time. She sank into her desk chair, tired and disoriented and oddly deflated.

What about love? she wanted to ask. Didn't even a royal prince want love as well as desire?

M
ax drove Ivy to work on Wednesday morning. He asked permission to use her car while she was at her office.

“Of course,” she replied, opening the car door.

“I'll be back for you at noon.”

“Don't bother. I'm going to the hospital to rock the babies in the nursery. Katie can drop me off.”

“What about lunch?”

“I'll pick up something in the cafeteria.”

“Something healthy. Ned says you need to eat lots of fruits and vegetables.”

She paused at the curb and gave him a questioning look. “Ned who?”

“Ned Bartlett. My valet and good friend. I spoke with him last night. He's delighted about the child and was quite adamant that we should return home soon. He's a worrier and likes to keep an eye on things.”

“I see.”

Max knew she didn't, not really, but he let it pass. Instead he gazed at her for one lingering moment, taking in the lovely picture she made in a pantsuit of deep bronze suede, a russet sweater and a scarf printed with fall leaves that repeated those colors plus added a bit of blue to go with her eyes.

“I'll see you at four, if not sooner,” he promised.

“I work until five.”

“You told the doctor at the hospital that you had an appointment with him today. It was on the calendar in your kitchen. Four o'clock.”

“I'd forgotten,” she admitted. “So much seems to have happened since then.”

He nodded as she closed the car door and walked up the sidewalk. After waving when she glanced back, he waited until she was inside the lobby atrium of the Crosby building, glad that it required an identification badge to get past the security guards at every entrance. Then he headed for a meeting of his own.

An hour later he and Chuck sat down with the regional FBI chief, a dour man who was clearly displeased that a foreign head of state was in the country without advance notification. “This is somewhat irregular,” he said.

Max spoke before Chuck could defend their actions. “My passport is in order,” he informed the man coolly. “I'm here on personal business, not state affairs.”

“Ivy Crosby,” the chief stated. His smile was dry. “I read the tabloids.”

“And had us checked out after I contacted your office yesterday,” Chuck added.

“True. The State Department is busy with other things at present. They have chosen to respect your request for privacy.” The older man paused, then said, “Is there anything else I need to know about your visit?”

“Not that I know of,” Max replied.

The FBI chief stood. “I hope you'll let me know when congratulations are in order.”

“Of course.” Max rose and shook his hand. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Once they were outside, Chuck frowned. “I thought we were going to bring the FBI into the picture.”

“I've had second thoughts. Between us, Trent and his security men, we should be able to protect Ivy. If we have a couple of FBI agents hanging around, too, we may spook the enemy. Whoever that is.”

“So what's the next step?”

Max checked the time. “I'm off to the hospital nursery to rock babies.”

Chuck cast a doubtful glance his way, then smiled as if waiting for the punch line of a joke.

“I am,” Max said, confirming his plans, then
chuckled. “It's part of the courtship. I think I need to know more about babies, don't you?”

“Huh,” Chuck snorted and shook his head. “It must be love.”

“It will be,” Max assured him. “It will be.”

“You're determined to make her fall for you. Is that the plan, Your Highness?”

“Absolutely.”

“Be careful you don't get caught in your own sticky web,” the security chief advised, a knowing grin tucked into the corners of his mouth. He waved one hand in farewell and strode toward the rental car.

Max headed for the interstate highway, his pulse quickening at the thought of seeing Ivy. He mused over that, then shrugged. His father had explained that the impulses of youth were fleeting and that sex could lead one to false conclusions. A marriage, he'd said, was built a day at a time, like a castle, each stone adding to a strong foundation of trust and mutual respect that would last a whole lifetime.

Ivy had shown her trust in many ways, did she but know it. His trust in her was total.

At the hospital he parked in visitor parking and entered the lobby. There he found the usual confusing array of signs with directional arrows. He followed one that pointed down a corridor to the nursery wing after showing his ID to the security officer and mentioning his fiancée's name.

Soon he stood before a window behind which were a dozen or so clear plastic baby beds with wheels on the legs. Most of them were filled with babies in various stages of awareness—some sleeping deeply, some looking around and two crying, sounding desperately angry at the world.

The side wall of the nursery had a large plate-glass window the same as the one he peered through. In the adjoining room, he spotted Ivy with a baby in her arms.

His insides clenched in a funny way. Aware of a foolish grin that he couldn't suppress, he went to the door down the corridor and opened it. The baby on her shoulder slept peacefully. The one in her lap cried loudly.

“Hello. Would you like some help?” he asked.

The delighted expression on Ivy's face was enough to make him walk over hot coals to see it again.

“Yes. Come in.”

He entered the small room, whose furniture consisted mostly of rocking chairs, and removed his suit jacket. “Tell me what to do,” he invited.

“Choose a chair. I'll give you a baby.” She frowned thoughtfully at him. “If you're sure you want to do this.”

“I'm sure. I figure I'll need the experience.”

She hesitated a second longer, then lifted the crying child onto her right arm while holding the other with her left. She gave him the squalling one, then put the other in one of the rolling bassinets.

“Uh, what do I do?” he asked, no longer sure about this experiment.

“I'll fix a bottle.” She returned the sleeping infant to the other room, then prepared a bottle for his.

As soon as he plopped the nipple into the open mouth, the baby shut up and started sucking vigorously.

“Ah, that's more like it, old boy,” he said, pleased with his success.

Ivy gave a little laugh, then laid a cloth over his left shoulder and tucked it between him and the child. “In case she spits up,” she explained.

Max peered at the child as it drank, a wave of undefined emotion wafting through him. Knowing it was a girl changed his perspective on the baby. From the strength of its furious squalls, he'd assumed it was a boy.

He acknowledged his somewhat sexist assumption with a smile. The baby stopped sucking and stared at him. Then its tiny mouth trembled before it widened into a milky grin.

Without pausing to think, he grinned back.

The baby grinned some more, then started sucking again, its eyes never wavering from his face.

“She's fallen for you,” Ivy murmured, leaning over his right shoulder, her breath caressing his temple. “I haven't seen her smile like that for anyone else.”

“I think I've fallen for her, too,” he admitted.

“She's one of our crack babies. It's a miracle she's made it this far. She was so tiny when she was born.”

He caressed Ivy's cheek with his. “The instinct for survival is strong. How old is she now?”

“Four months. The volunteers have rocked and sung to her almost continuously during that time. I think she's going to be normal…”

Max glanced at Ivy as her voice trailed off, worry in her beautiful blue eyes. He realized she was thinking of the baby she carried. “Our child will be fine. You're healthy. So am I. Our baby will be, too.”

He missed her warmth when she moved away. “Most babies are. It's just that since I've been coming here I've seen complications crop up that no one expected. It makes one rather uncertain.” She sighed.

“Life doesn't come with a warranty,” he told her softly as the child he held drifted into sleep. “We take it as it comes and work together to make something good.”

She brought in another baby and started it on a bottle. “I wish I had your confidence.”

“You trust me with your body,” he told her. “Someday you'll trust me with your heart.”

Her quick glance was wary. “Will you trust me with yours?” she asked, then began to rock gently, not expecting an answer.

“I already do,” he said.

Their eyes met and held for a long minute before she looked away. Max shifted the baby a bit. The tiny
girl opened her smoky-blue eyes, gave him another trust-filled smile and went back to sleep. His heart did an odd flip. He brushed the infant's cheek with the back of one finger, marveling at how small she was, how perfect.

Ivy laughed softly. “Watch it,” she warned. “You
are
in danger of falling in love.”

“Not me,” he answered in the same playful tone she'd used. “Macho men are tough to the core.”

The opening of the hall door disrupted the moment. Max swung his head around, smoothing out the frown of annoyance as he did. Another man stood there.

“Uh, I was just passing by,” the stranger said.

“Everett,” Ivy greeted the other man warmly. “Do come in. You must have known we needed you today. Max and I are the only two who showed up. Sit down. I'll give you this sleepyhead and try to soothe the screamer in there.”

Max managed a smile when Ivy introduced the accountant from the adoption agency that was next door and was connected to the hospital in some way. Chuck had mentioned the place.

“It's called Children's Connection,” Ivy said, finishing her explanation of Everett Baker's position there. “I haven't seen Nancy today,” she told Everett.

Max watched with interest as the man became flustered at the mention of the woman.

“I, uh, wasn't here to see her,” Everett said.

He sat in a rocker and gingerly accepted the baby Ivy placed in his arms and the bottle along with it. Poor guy. He looked about as comfortable as a nervous missionary trying to convert a tribe of cannibals.

“This is my first time, too,” Max confided to the man while Ivy bustled into the nursery and retrieved a crying infant. “Smile at 'em. They seem to like that.”

Ivy returned and soon had her baby quiet. “Everett has volunteered to help us before. This is his second time.”

“Huh.” Max didn't think the nerdy accountant had gained much skill from his first visit. Smiling at his charming, sleeping baby, he thought he must have a knack for handling them. Dogs and cats had always liked him, too.

At that moment, an odd noise came from the tiny girl. She opened her eyes, squinted as if concentrating on a difficult subject, then made several more suspicious sounds. An unpleasant odor filled the room.

“Ivy,” he said in alarm.

“I'll switch with you.”

Max was relieved when she did. He continued feeding the other baby. He checked the wrist bracelet. A boy. Joshua.

“Hey, little man,” he said when the boy opened his eyes and stared at him. Max gave him a smile.

The baby's chin wobbled, then he drew his legs up toward his chest. Next he thrust them straight and
let out a yell like bloody murder. Max was so startled he nearly dropped both baby and the odd-looking bottle containing the plastic pouch of milk.

“What did you do, pinch him?” Ivy scolded a couple of seconds later. There was laughter in her eyes.

Max gladly exchanged the screaming Joshua with—he peeked at the name tag—Madison, Female. “What kind of name is that for a girl?” he asked.

The baby yawned and closed her eyes, totally secure in her tiny world.

Like the Grinch, Max felt his heart grow three sizes.

 

On her way to Crosby Systems shortly after one Ivy stopped by one of the superstores that seemed to be cropping up all over. She parked Katie's car, which she'd borrowed since her sister was tied up in meetings, a good distance from the entrance doors so she'd get some exercise.

Walking through the pleasant September sunlight, she considered the warm feelings inspired by Max and the babies. It would be very easy to fall in love with him. He could “charm the devil out of his pitchfork” when he put his mind to it, as an elderly neighbor had once said about her father.

Cutting across a line of parked cars, Ivy noticed another car pull into the parking lot, going very slowly as if looking for someone.

A warning ran along her nerves. She'd seen a similar vehicle at the hospital with two men sitting in it.
She'd assumed they were waiting for someone who was visiting a patient or seeing a doctor.

Ducking behind a pickup, she noted there were two men inside the dark, late-model sedan. Were they following her?

Silly, she scolded her runaway imagination. One of them probably had to get something for his wife.

Going inside the huge store, she picked up the boxed pasta platter and tongs that were the day's special and hurried to the checkout line.

Two men in dark suits entered the store. They were talking in a relaxed fashion, but they were looking the place over as they walked. Again she felt a funny tingle along her nerves.

She recalled Max telling her that Chuck believed in following his gut instinct. Her gut felt very uneasy.

Taking a calming breath, she muttered, “Darn,” as if she'd forgotten something and left her place in line. A plan had already formed in her mind.

She headed for the garden shop, laying the pasta platter on a shelf of welcome mats before exiting the main building. Outside, in a fenced area that contained plants and yard furniture, she slipped on sunglasses and pretended to consider the redwood trellises. In reality she was checking the aisle she'd come down before going outside.