Having straightened out Joseph's tie, Clarisse declared that she was finally ready, and that they could leave for dinner. Joe glanced at his watch, smiling to himself.

"Only two hours and fourteen minutes, my darling, surely this has to be some kind of world record?"

She cast him a withering look and sat down on the edge of the bed to slip on her shoes, mumbling something under her breath. He smiled again, and bent down to help her, earning himself a playful kick in the chest.

"Hey…you'll mess up my shirt."

She smirked at the thought, and let him buckle the other shoe for her, rather enjoying the sensation of literally be waited on hand…and foot. The job finished, she stood up and, taking his hand, guided him towards the door. Just as they reached it, and she placed her hand on the handle, he tugged her back, spinning her a little.

"What?" She smiled, knowing from experience what would be coming. She couldn't have been more wrong though…well, at least initially.

"You've missed a bit." She looked at him puzzled.

"Missed a bit?" He nodded, tapping his index finger on the exposed décolletage revealed by her dress.

"Wait here a moment…" He dashed back into the bedroom, leaving her rather bemused at the door. Surely he couldn't be bothered by the cut of the dress? It wasn't that daring…she'd definitely worn worse, she thought with a smile. She couldn't quite work out why, but the idea of Joseph trying to protect like a worried mother hen was rather alluring. She hoped that he wouldn't try and make her wear a scarf. Nothing she had with her would suit and, quite frankly it would ruin the neckline of this beautiful dress. Honestly…men.

Triumphantly he returned, without a scarf in sight. With a flourish, he held out both clenched fists in front of her.

"Pick"

Again, she eyed him suspiciously. Looking from one fist to the other, she tapped the one on his left. He smiled, shaking his head and, turning his hand over, unclenching his fingers, he revealed a beautiful, intricate filigree Celtic cross.

She smiled, looking up from the necklace to his face, stroking his cheek.

"Is this for me?" He smiled, touched as ever by her genuine delight at such a small gesture.

"No, it's for Maurice. Of course it's for you, silly. Do you like it?"

She smiled, nodding slightly.

He uncurled the necklace and, taking an end in each hand, looped it gently around her neck. Reaching over her, he fastened the clasp carefully and then stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Hmm…yes, you'll do."

She pouted mischievously and he couldn't resist kissing her, just a little bit, before he had to share her with other people. Eventually they broke apart and, taking her arm, they stepped out of the room and wandered leisurely in the direction of the dining hall.

Most of the dinner guests had already arrived and, as they reached the door, Clarisse self-consciously slipped out of his hold and straightened her dress one final time. She always hated this moment of the evening, all those eyes for a moment concentrated on her. The richly brocaded guard at the door ushered them in with a flamboyant gesture,

"Her Royal Highness, Queen Clarisse of Genovia, and Sir Joseph."

Everyone turned and looked at them. Clarisse forced a smile, her glance sweeping the room. Joe, sensing her unease, clasped her hand in his and led the way. She turned a little towards him and their eyes met. He raised an eyebrow playfully and, remembering her earlier comment in the hallway, whispered discreetly,

"Darling, remember, you are richer than all of them put together…"

She almost laughed out loud, but gripping his hand tighter, managed to resist the urge. Instead, her eyes just twinkled, and no-one was any the wiser.

Thankfully, they had been seated together, Clarisse was next to Annalisa (which left Joe fearing rather for the cutlery!) and he found himself alongside an Italian baron, who, in all honesty, he doubted, was there for any other reason than the free food. He was a portly gentleman, with ruddy cheeks and a well-oiled moustache. As the starter was served, and Clarisse giggled away with Annalisa about something he most probably didn't want to know about, he decided to attempt a conversation,

"So, are you a close friend of the Kind and Queen?" He grimaced at the crassness of his remark. But he needn't have been so concerned. Between large mouthfuls of soup, the baron attempted a reply,

"Eh, ma non parlo inglese, quindi….eh..." he gestured wildly with the spoon, sending a splash of the soup across the centre of the table, 'ma Lei non e' spagnolo?"

Joe smiled politely, and, shrugged, "si, di nascita', ma, vivo in Genovia da quasi vent'anni…mi sento quasi genoviano ormai"

The Italian merely grunted and returned to his soup. Joe felt a hand slide down his upper thigh and come to rest on his knee. Thankfully it was on the wrong side to be the Italian. Setting down his spoon carefully, he slipped his own hand under the table and placed it on top of the mischievous one. Calmly he turned to Clarisse and raised an eyebrow.

"Italian too?" He smiled modestly and shrugged his shoulders again. She clasped his hand under the table, entwining her fingers in his. Leaning imperceptibly closer she lowered her voice,

"You really are a man of hidden talents, aren't you?"

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The soup bowls removed, the waiters began to circulate with the wine. Always one to speak directly with those serving her, Clarisse smiled at the young man and asked politely for a glass of the white. Annalisa laughed loudly at something her husband said and for a moment Clarisse was distracted. Smoothly, Joe tapped the youth on the shoulder and whispered, firmly,

"She'll have the red." The boy looked puzzled, and for a second looked back at Clarisse, who was now talking animatedly.

"Believe me, she wants the red…she always gets them confused. I have my suspicions she may very well be colour-blind. " The boy smiled and nodding at the older man, poured Clarisse a large glass of the red. Having poured Joe a glass of his own, and, as requested, leaving the bottle next to him, he retreated. Joe bit his lip to conceal his amusement. And she thought the games were over…

Turning back to her husband, Clarisse noticed with mild irritation that the boy had served her the wrong wine. She sighed and began to look around for the nearest waiter. She spotted one on the other side of the table and began to discreetly raise her arm to catch his attention. To her surprise, it was caught in the firm grip of Joseph's warm hand.

"Darling?" He smiled, and she tried again. "I was just going…"

"I know what you were going to do" Again, that cheeky smile.

"I don't understand. I asked for white wine, and I mustn't have made it clear…I was just going to…"

"I know." He kissed her gloved hand, and set it back down on the table.

"I know you asked for white, but I told him what you really meant was red."

"You did what?" She wasn't so much angry, as confused.

"I told him what you really wanted was red."

"But Joseph," she blushed slightly and lowered her voice, "you know what happens when I drink red wine."

Again, he smiled, and this time it was his hand that slipped under the table to caress her thigh, "I know, my darling…"

Her eyes widened, but she managed to maintain her composure. She swallowed involuntarily and shifted a little in her seat.

"Joseph, my darling…" her voice was now nothing more than a whisper, "what are you playing at?"

He chuckled, still stroking the silk idly with his agile fingers, "This, my darling, would be the lets-see-how-relaxed-Clarisse-can-be-game…"

"I see…" She gulped again, and slumped back a little in her seat. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

He lifted his hand from under the table and tapped his index finger softly against her nose. "Not a chance, my dear…"

OooooOoOOOOOOooOoo

Three glasses of red later, she was starting to feel restless. The dessert course had just been cleared and the guests were mingling freely with their cups of coffee. Annalisa was speaking to the pianist, probably requesting something specific. Clarisse smoothed down her dress sleeves, her gaze lingering on her beautiful engagement ring. After folding her napkin into an elaborate swan, she turned to Joseph who was watching her with amusement.

"Something wrong, my love?" God, he looked smug.

"Nothing…I'm just a little bored." He reached up to push a stray strand of hair back into place.

"Bored? Oh dear…that simply won't do…." He tutted, his finger lingering just a second on her cheek, and then swooping down to her neck.

At that moment, the pianist began his set, his fingers drifting effortless over the ivories. Jazz… Soft, low and ever so sexy. Clarisse sighed in approval. She adored jazz, especially the old standards. The opening bars of Misty floated across the room, and then the sultry tones of a female voice began…

Look at me, I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree…

Joe smiled at her distraction. She was enjoying this even more than him. As she listened her eyes slid shut and he took the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to her temple. She smiled, turning into him a little, as he draped an arm loosely around her shoulders. Her eyes still shut, she nuzzled against him,

"Dance with me, Joseph?"

A/N

The Italian translates as: 'Eh, but I don't speak English…aren't you Spanish?" and "Yes, by birth, but having lived in Genovia for almost twenty years, I feel pretty much Genovian."