A/N: Happy New Year! My first story for 2007 is open-ended, and when you finish reading the last chapter, there'll be a question at the end of it. I'll look forward to your opinions and ideas. Meantime, I hope you'll enjoy this first glimpse into Christian and Leslie's married life.
§ § § - January 26, 2001
A surprising draft of cool air woke Christian before dawn that Friday morning, and he lifted his head, wondering. He was still acclimated to his native country, so the relative chill didn't bother him; but he was curious as to where it came from. The soft glow from the candelabra chandelier in the living room, turned low to act as a nightlight, gave off just enough light for him to see Leslie, still asleep but with a faint frown on her face. He brushed a kiss across her cheek before slipping out of the bed and wandering to the large French door that led to the deck. The previous night had been unusually warm and humid, and they had left it open in the hope of catching a breeze off the water. It felt as if they were finally getting it, but it seemed a little too brisk to Christian.
As he stood at the glass door staring out to sea, a bolt of lightning forked across the sky far out over the water. So that was the culprit: an offshore storm. Forgetting himself, he opened the door wider and stood right in the thick of the air current, avidly studying the sky as he had done ever since he was a child watching storms.
The sky lit with sheet lightning and he grinned in anticipation; about ten seconds later there came the rolling growl of thunder. About to step out onto the deck, he suddenly heard Leslie's voice from behind him. "Oh, dammit…"
Belatedly remembering her fear of storms, he peered over his shoulder to see her sitting up in the bed, hugging her knees. "Come on out, my Rose," he coaxed her.
"Are you kidding?" she retorted. "Actually, my love, I don't think you should be going out there either, and it has nothing to do with the possibility of getting hit by lightning. I'll be the first to admit the view is positively spectacular, but I may be the only one who thinks so." She gave him a wry smile, and it was only then that Christian realized he was standing there in his birthday suit. "You're lucky this house is so isolated!"
Christian laughed and conceded, retreating into the room and firmly closing the door, to her visible relief. "It's shameful of me to admit this, I know, but I'm afraid I forgot your fear of these things. But," he remarked, climbing back into bed beside her, "given the choice between standing at the window and watching as I normally do, or comforting you, it's no contest. You win every time."
Leslie smiled and half turned toward him as he shifted position so that she was sitting between his knees, and slid both arms around his torso, resting her head on his shoulder. "This being married has some wonderful fringe benefits," she observed with a drowsy, teasing note. "I could get to like this."
"You little tease," Christian said, chuckling. "Sometimes I think you're putting on an act for my benefit. Why on earth are you so frightened of storms, my darling?"
"I don't know," Leslie said. "I just am…always have been, as far back as I can remember. But it used to be just basic, average, run-of-the-mill scared. Then a few months before you and I met, we had this fantasy. You've heard of tornado chasers, right?"
Christian nodded. "I've always wanted to go on one of those tours," he said.
"Well, you should've been there," Leslie said. "The guest in question made his living leading tours like that, except for one thing—he'd never actually managed to see a tornado. And that was his fantasy…so, under duress, Father agreed to grant it. The guy had a group of about half a dozen enthusiasts with him. And then he got one more—namely me."
"You're joking!" Christian exclaimed, a laugh in his voice. "Why?"
"Because," Leslie said, sighing, "I thought it would be a good way to help cure myself of being afraid of storms. Father didn't like the idea of my going with them and objected strenuously, but I was too stubborn to listen to reason."
"So what happened?" Christian prompted eagerly when she paused.
Leslie lifted her head and gave him a wry, sheepish look. "It backfired on me, big-time," she admitted. "We saw a tornado, all right—in fact we narrowly missed getting picked up by the thing. But the next time we had a tame little thunderstorm, I freaked out, and poor Father was up half the night trying to calm me down, like I was a four-year-old seeing monsters in the closet. I set myself back so far that I can't stand to be alone during these things, so it's another reason for me to be glad that we're married. I can take comfort from my fearless husband." She grinned at him, and he laughed, just as lightning brightened the entire room for a prolonged two seconds. Startled, Leslie let out a small shriek and grabbed him, making him laugh all the harder and hug her securely.
Thunder roared around them, perhaps more loudly than it should have, and both Christian and Leslie tensed, listening curiously. "Did you hear something strange?" he asked.
"Yeah, like a banging," Leslie suggested, and he nodded. A moment later it came again in a frantic barrage of noise, and they stared at each other, realizing someone was pounding on the door. "I don't believe this!" Leslie exclaimed.
"Neither do I," Christian agreed incredulously. "Well, since we spent half of last night making love in here, I think we'd better take the time to get dressed before we find out who on earth discovered us here in our hideout."
"Wait for me," Leslie pleaded nervously as he swung out of bed, and he gave her a reassuring grin, pulling on briefs and a pair of lightweight pajama pants. He lingered long enough for Leslie to throw on underpants and a sleep shirt, then took her hand and led her out to the other side of the house. Rain had begun lashing the ocean-facing windows, blown by a steady wind, and Leslie flinched at another blast of lightning and thunder. Once again there was a flurry of banging on the door.
"Just a moment!" Christian shouted, hoping to be heard over the racket, and flipped on a couple of lights before unlocking the door and opening it. To his and Leslie's shock, Anna-Kristina shot inside the moment he did so, wild-eyed, shivering and dripping.
"Well," said Christian with heavy irony, closing the door again and locking it, "if it isn't my niece, the drowned rat. We were just expecting you."
Anna-Kristina found the wherewithal to glare at him, and Leslie grinned. "How'd we get so lucky as to be graced by your presence on this fine morning?" she teased gently.
"Let me get a towel and one of my T-shirts for her while you grill her, my Rose," Christian said, shaking his head and heading for the back of the house. Leslie studied the younger woman wonderingly.
"How on earth did you find us here?" she asked, seriously now.
"I walked," said Anna-Kristina, stunning Leslie.
"You can't be serious," Leslie said, gaping at her. "Do you know how far this is from our end of the island? Not only that, do you know what time it is? You're lucky we were even awake!"
"I knew you would be," Anna-Kristina said, turning a pleading look on Leslie. "I know from Uncle Christian that storms frighten you. Please, Aunt Leslie, when he gets back, I really need to talk to you both. I've wanted to do that for a week, but you never came back from here after the day you gave that interview to your friend, and I didn't want to bother Mr. Roarke."
"So you decided to go out of your way to bother us instead," Christian said, returning with a towel and one of his old T-shirts, "even though you're fully aware that Leslie and I are still on our honeymoon." He paused behind the princess and wrapped the towel around her; it was an oversized bath sheet, fluffy and fragrant from a recent washing. "I can't wait to find out how you came all the way out here—not to mention why—and why you did it at four-thirty in the morning to boot. This must be one amazing story."
"Christian, my love, ease up on her a little," Leslie coaxed with a little smile, reaching around to caress his back for a moment. To Anna-Kristina she remarked, "We've had just enough interruptions of our honeymoon to really annoy him, I'm afraid. First we got held over for Myeko's interview; then we had a phone call from your father, of all people, trying to get Christian to do something else on behalf of king and country…and now here you are."
"Oh," said Anna-Kristina in a small voice, looking abashed. "I didn't know. How did Pappa get the number here, and what did he want?"
"I was about to ask you that," Christian said, sighing. "To answer your second question, he's trying to squeeze all the royal duty he can out of me before I'm officially declared a faceless peon. Needless to say, I told him what to do with his royal command, and you can bet your very last krona that it was the most vindicating thing I've ever done." He grinned with remembered relish, making Leslie laugh merrily. "Now for fate's sake, what are you doing here?"
"I need some advice," Anna-Kristina said, and cringed when Christian's mouth fell open in disbelief.
Leslie cleared her throat. "Look," she suggested, "it's really too early for this. Tell you what, my love, why don't you go on back to bed and wait for me, and I'll get a pillow and blanket for Anna-Kristina and set her up on the sofa out here. Then we can all get a little more sleep before we talk…at a more reasonable hour." She smiled at the princess as she said this last, and Anna-Kristina blushed and grinned sheepishly.
"You're right," she said, "but at least I'm here now." Defiantly she eyed Christian and said, "I walked out here, and I did it on purpose. Well, I didn't walk on purpose, but I did come out here on purpose. I couldn't sleep and I desperately needed to talk to someone, but nobody would drive me out here. So I simply walked, since I was restless anyway."
"Herregud," Christian muttered, aghast. "I can't believe you even managed to find this house. Leslie claims to be stubborn, but you have her beaten by kilometers."
"That's not stubbornness, that's insanity," Leslie bantered, winking at Anna-Kristina.
Christian chortled with appreciation. "A very good point, my Leslie Rose. All right, then, I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom, and you—" this he directed at Anna-Kristina— "had better resign yourself to waiting a while. We've had only a few hours of sleep, and this storm doesn't help the situation. So whatever it is you need to discuss with us, just put it away until something resembling a civilized hour." He smiled at her to soften the words, gathering some of her towel while he was speaking and squeezing the extra water from her sodden hair; then he gave Leslie a lingering kiss and retreated to the bedroom, yawning as he went. Leslie watched him go, a dreamy look in her eyes.
"Aunt Leslie…" Anna-Kristina prompted with a little grin.
Leslie blinked and caught herself, grinning good-naturedly. "Okay, okay. Let's see if I can find what I'm looking for in here." She went to the linen closet in the hallway that connected the kitchen and living area and the bedroom, checking shelves till she unearthed a pillow and two fleece blankets. "This should do it. Do you need help?"
"No, I've bothered you enough," Anna-Kristina said apologetically. "I can curl up on the sofa under these and I'll be happy, just as long as I'm out of the rain. Thank you, and good night…and I'm sorry."
Leslie shrugged. "Just try to get some sleep," she said and patted Anna-Kristina's shoulder. "Good night." Anna-Kristina padded back out to the living room, and Leslie let herself into the bedroom and pushed the door shut behind her.
"Is she all right, then?" Christian asked from the bed.
He was lying there with his arms folded beneath his head, the covers pulled up to his waist. "She'll be fine," she said, glancing at the floor where the clothes he had been wearing a few moments ago lay in a rather ostentatious heap. She grinned and inquired, "Did you turn into a slob for a reason?"
Christian smiled, his eyes gleaming in the occasional lightning flashes. "Good, you noticed." Normally he was a very tidy person, Leslie had learned, which suited her fine, as she preferred things to be in their proper places. "And yes, that's a message."
She leaned casually on one of the bedposts. "Hm," she murmured with exaggerated puzzlement, "I wonder just what you're trying to say?…" Playacting, she tapped her chin with a forefinger, peering at the ceiling and assuming a look of overdone confusion, while well aware of him lying there with his chest heaving with silent chuckles. "Well, I guess for one thing, it means you're naked."
Christian's laughter escaped and he sat up in bed, stretching his hand towards her. "Oh, stop stalling and come here, you adorable tease. Now that my errant niece has me wide awake, I see no reason not to take advantage of it." Giggling, Leslie swiftly stripped and got in beside him, pressing against him and turning his head to kiss him.
Christian deepened the kiss almost immediately, then groaned when a bolt of lightning set off an audible crack nearby and resulted in an explosion of thunder that made his wife yank back and clutch him with some desperation. "That wasn't fair," he grumbled, his annoyance at least a little exaggerated for Leslie's benefit in an attempt to calm her down with humor. "I wanted this time with you before we had to deal with our houseguest."
"I know…I'm sorry," Leslie said, her voice shaking just a little. "It's the thunder more than the lightning, actually. I have this phobia about sudden loud noises."
"Ah," he said, still teasing her, "so that's why you're usually so quiet when we make love…" She snorted, making him chuckle. "Well, maybe not that much. You do have the most arousing way of calling my name when you have a climax. Do you have any idea how much that turns me on?"
Thunder boomed again and Leslie cringed; Christian sighed and gave up with good grace. "I'm sorry, my darling," Leslie said again, helplessly.
"Shhhhh," he soothed, stroking her hair. "I know you can't help it, and it's not easy to overcome a phobia. I'll just have to hope this storm goes away quickly."
"I was just thinking," Leslie said. "Anna-Kristina said she couldn't get anyone to drive her out here. Why didn't she just borrow a jeep and go?"
"Because she doesn't know how to drive," Christian said, grinning at her astonished expression. "Yes, it's really true. She never learned, and Arnulf never saw any need to have her taught, since it was always assumed she would be queen. And we all tend to be shuttled around in official cars, although not so much myself as the rest of my family. I did learn to drive, of course, especially since I chose not to live in the castle. But Arnulf doesn't drive, and his daughters don't drive, and neither do Carl Johan and Anna-Laura—though their children do. Sometimes, I admit, my family can be hopelessly archaic."
Leslie giggled and nestled against him. "In any case, I'm really interested in hearing what's got Anna-Kristina so upset that she'd go so far as to walk what has to be a good fifteen miles in the middle of the night, with a storm coming for most of that time, just so she can get some advice from her favorite uncle."
"Whatever it is, it must be enormous," Christian said, "though occasionally she has a bent for dramatics, so if I were you I'd take it with a few grains of salt." He yawned again and rested his head atop hers. "Now, how much honeymoon do we have left?"
"Counting today, five days," Leslie said. "Then it's back to the real world, and our jobs, and so on. Only I get to come home to you from here on out."
"And I to you," Christian agreed. "It's occurred to me that I might want to rearrange my usual work schedule. Since you work weekends, it would make more sense that I do the same; I probably wouldn't get to see you anyway, so I might as well. Does Mr. Roarke give you the equivalent of weekends?"
"I imagine we could work that out," Leslie mused. "I always just went ahead and worked all week, since I didn't have much reason not to."
Christian let his hands begin to slowly roam her body. "Well, you do now, so I guess that's another item we need to put on a list of things to discuss with Mr. Roarke. Just thinking of everything that has to be done makes me tired…and makes me wish we could just stay here and make love for the rest of our lives."
"A nice thought," Leslie murmured, closing her eyes to better absorb the sensation of his hands on her, "but a lot of people would object. Mmmmm…touch me there again." Over her head, Christian smiled and complied, then lowered his head and kissed her. This time she surrendered willingly, while the storm blew itself out and the rain rattled against the windowpanes.