Page 32 of Marooned


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“I was proud of you, and my son,” he replied, gathering her into his arms under the fine cotton sheets.

They were grateful for the Andersens’ help. Margit had arranged everything for Orlando’s birth, and subsequently introduced herlong-lost relativesto a circle of well-to-do friends. They’d met such influential people as Washington Irving, Cornelius Vanderbilt and Johann Jakob Astor, all of whom would be attending the festivities for Orlando’s christening.

Upon learning Maximiliano had seafaring experience, Astor had offered him the captaincy of one of his vessels.

“They’d all faint dead away if they knew they were celebrating the baptism of a pirate’s son,” Maximiliano quipped. However, he had to admit it felt good to be once more accepted into polite society, though he’d resisted Margit’s suggestion he shorten his name to Max.

“Not so foreign-sounding,” she often reminded him.

He kept her at bay with the tale of King Carlos and the family’s coat of arms, which he was sure she’d passed on to her friends.

“I expect we’ll be asked more than once how we chose our son’s name,” Heidi said.

“And, of course,” Maximiliano chuckled, “we cannot tell them the sale of Roland Stephenson’s gold watch provided us with the funds to leave Miami and travel to New York.”

She traced a finger down his belly. “I know you miss the tropical sun.”

“I do,” he agreed, placing her hand firmly on the pleasant erection her touch never failed to arouse. “But it was too dangerous to stay in Florida. We’ll find a warmer place, eventually.”

“So, Max, Upper Canada is out of the question?” she teased.

“Danish minx,” he replied, as he licked a nipple and they began the slow climb to mutual release.

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