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“Plenty. Shall I meet you at the bar?”
He was still trying to forget the things her question had called to mind. “All right. I’ll have another dress sent up. Be in the bar in an hour.”
“Yes, sir.”
He ignored the pert salute she aimed his way as he left the suite and stalked toward the elevator.
Hours later, she remained so angry, she couldn’t stand still as she waited impatiently for the royal limo to be called to the VIP queue. As she paced back and forth, she checked her watch. By now, Rafe knew she’d gone and unless he was a lot less resourceful than she suspected, he knew she’d boarded an international flight. And he knew she was going home.
It hadn’t been easy. She’d placed one quick call to Laura Bishop at the Colton ranch. Laura had agreed to make her travel arrangements and called back a short time later with all the necessary information.
Laura also agreed to explain to Alexandra that so far Sam Flynn had been unavailable. Elizabeth had hoped so much that she and her sisters would be able to locate the man they were all convinced was their brother, kidnapped as an infant and presumed dead. Only he hadn’t been killed, after all. And though the records at The Sunshine Home for Children had left something to be desired, she and her sisters had narrowed down the field of possibilities. Now only two remained: Sam Flynn, the man she had been supposed to make contact with in Phoenix, and John Colton, the younger brother of Alexandra’s new husband, Mitch, who, according to Mitch, was unable to be contacted until he decided to show up.
Elizabeth felt bad about letting her sisters down just when they were getting close to finding their brother, but… They would understand, she was sure. She had to talk to her parents before Rafe did. After that, Laura could make sure Sam Flynn was available before Elizabeth returned to speak with him.
With her conscience resting easier, she’d packed rapidly. Then she’d sneaked out of the hotel and caught a flight with minutes left in the hour he’d granted her. At JFK, she’d left her connecting flight to board the private plane her father had sent at Laura’s request.
The limo arrived and before she was ready, before she really wanted to be there, she was being driven through the familiar gates of the palace to the main entry stairs where her mother and father, wearing smiles wide enough to crack their faces, waited to greet her. They hurried down the steps as the chauffeur opened the door, and as she slid out, she was enveloped in her mother’s arms.
She knew the moment her mother realized what the bulge between them was. Gabriella’s body stiffened. She pulled away and stood back, holding Elizabeth at arm’s length to look at her. All of her. Shock, surprise, bewilderment all flashed across the Queen’s face. Then compassion filled her eyes.
“Oh, my darling,” she said. “Is this an occasion for celebration? Are you happy about this?”
“Happy about what?” Her father’s voice boomed over her mother’s softer tones.
“Brace yourself, Phillip,” said Queen Gabriella. “Our little girl is pregnant.” She shepherded Elizabeth up the steps as she spoke, issuing orders to the staff for refreshments in the family drawing room.
“Pregnant! But where…who…how…?” The King’s voice trailed off into astonished silence as he strode along at his wife’s heels.
“I imagine we’ll learn where the father is and who the father is very shortly, dear,” her mother said over her shoulder. “And if you don’t know how by now, I truly despair of you.”
Despite the tears that threatened to fall, Elizabeth had to giggle. She’d been so afraid to tell them. Well, afraid wasn’t exactly the right word. More like sorry. She knew being an unwed mother must be the last thing her parents wanted for one of their daughters. She’d put off this moment for so long because she hadn’t been able to face the thought of their disappointment in her.
And there was another reason, as well.
They had to locate James! If they didn’t, and if this baby she carried was a son…she couldn’t bear to think about what it would mean for her child. Please, God, let this be a girl.
“So.” Her mother pressed her into a wingbacked chair and lifted her feet onto the matching hassock, making Elizabeth smile. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Some kind of juice would be wonderful. Cranberry, please?”
Her mother nodded, and the hovering maid took off at light speed. Anyone in the palace employ who hadn’t already heard that Princess Elizabeth had come home with a baby on the way would know in a matter of minutes, she was sure.
One more reason she dreaded the idea of raising her child in the palace environment in which she’d been raised.
“How are you feeling?” her mother asked.
Simultaneously the king asked, “Do you know if it’s a boy?”
Her father was pacing back and forth in front of the wide windows, looking rather…agitated. She supposed he had the right to be.
“I feel fine,” she answered her mother. “A little bit of morning sickness early on, but now I couldn’t feel better.” Unbidden, an image of the heated lovemaking she had experienced only hours ago flashed through her head and she felt herself blush.
Her mother raised her eyebrows with a knowing smile, but didn’t comment.
“I’m about five months along,” Elizabeth went on. “The baby’s due in mid-June. And, no, I don’t know its gender. We’ll have to wait and be surprised.”
“Is the father in the picture?” Her own father had stopped his pacing and turned to toss the question at her.
