A/N: Thank you for taking time to leave a comment, Caranath, zenfrodo, Erin, Cheryl, max2013, Guest, cameron1812, Helen Louise, and Paulina Ann! Very much appreciated. And many thanks if you're just reading, as well.

Chapter 29

Cooper threaded his fingers through Iola's as they stepped into the lobby of the Family Center in Brooklyn. A little tingle zipped up her arm at the contact. She loved touching this man. Which was eventually going to get her into a ton of trouble.

Iola looked around at the brightly painted walls, children's artwork decorating nearly every surface. She noticed that there were no sharp angles anywhere. The building design was full of curves and softness in the furniture and the walls. The ceiling had warm recessed lights, and colorful mobiles of butterflies and birds hung everywhere. It was beautiful, and felt like a happy place to be.

She smiled up at Cooper. "I love it already."

He squeezed her hand. "I knew you would."

A middle-aged woman in a navy blue suit approached them. She was all smiles as she greeted Cooper.

"Oh, Mr. Armstrong, we're so happy to have you here this afternoon," she gushed, resting her hand on his arm. "The children love it when you stop by."

Not just the children, Iola thought, stifling a giggle. This woman was positively starry eyed.

"Thank you," Cooper said. "Hazel, I'd like for you to meet my friend, Iola Morton. She's interested in helping with your cause, as well."

The woman appeared to notice Iola for the first time. "Oh, yes. I've seen you on television. Welcome to the Family Center. We'd be very grateful for your support."

"I'm happy to be here," Iola said. "Children have a special place in my heart. I'd love to help out however I can."

The woman beamed at both of them. "Well, why don't you two head into our playroom today? The little ones are having free time there right now. Are you okay working with preschoolers?"

"Yes," Iola replied, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. "That's the age group I've worked with previously. They're so much fun to be around."

The woman patted Iola's free hand. "I've heard your story, dear. I'm so happy you had children around you to boost your spirits. I'm afraid these children all have rather troubled lives, but I can already tell that you're the right person to spend time with them. You have compassionate eyes."

"Thank you," Iola said, a bit surprised. For some reason, it hadn't registered with her how many people knew her story. Being on television and giving interviews had all seemed so abstract to her. Apparently, people really had been watching.

"Shall we just go in then?" Cooper asked.

The woman nodded and gestured across the lobby. "You know the way."

Iola looked up at Cooper as he led her down a hallway. "She seems nice. Although having 'compassionate eyes' makes me feel like a golden retriever."

Cooper laughed. "She's lovely. And yes, you do have compassionate eyes. And no, you look nothing like a golden retriever. Your hair is the wrong color."

Iola caught the teasing glint in his eye. She let out an affected sigh. "Of course. Just another instance of brunettes coming in second to blondes."

"Not in this case. Blondes aren't my type."

"Oh? Then what is your type?"

Cooper stopped and appeared to consider the question seriously. "My type is pretty narrow, actually. If I had to sum it up, I'd say my type has gorgeous dark hair, a pert little nose, a luscious mouth, a stunning figure, and the most hauntingly beautiful, deep blue eyes I've ever seen. So blue they appear violet at times."

Iola was speechless. Did he really think all those things about her? Her? Before Iola could reply, a door next to them burst open and a gaggle of children spilled out into the hall.

"Cooper!" they chorused, grabbing onto his legs and free hand.

Iola laughed. "Your fans have found you."

"Indeed they have," Cooper replied, leaning down to greet the preschoolers. He looked back at Iola. "Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said, following him into the playroom.

Only Iola wasn't just referring to the children.

OOOoooOOO

Fenton entered Joe's office, where Frank was already seated and quietly closed the door behind him. "I just got word that the crown prince is in surgery having his appendix removed. They predict he'll remain in the hospital for a few days afterwards, just to make sure there's no sign of peritonitis and he's recovered his strength."

"And then, since the energy summit is over, they'll deport him, right?" Joe asked. He wanted this idiot prince and his entire retinue gone from U.S. soil

Fenton sighed. "I'm sorry, Joe. The crown prince's behavior has done nothing to cause concern so far, and there's no evidence that he had anything to do with Iola's abduction. So, they'll keep an eye on him after he's released, but if he acts normal, they're going to let it go."

"What? They're just going to let it drop? An American citizen is kidnapped, made to look like she's dead, taken to a foreign country as the prisoner of some megalomaniac, and our government is simply going to look the other way?" Joe was trying to stay calm. He knew it wasn't working.

"I'm afraid so. The prince is denying that he knew anything of Iola's whereabouts, and there's no actual proof that he did. Not to mention, her rescue operation is classified. Besides, someone with full diplomatic immunity can't be put on trial. He's not even allowed to be called as a witness in someone else's trial. Even if he wants to testify," Fenton said.

"I was afraid of that," Frank chimed in.

"So, nobody is going to do anything? This guy gets away with ruining Iola's life and mine?" Joe was incredulous. And furious.

"I'm afraid so, son," Fenton said. "You need to let it go."

"That's not going to happen." Joe stood and grabbed his coat from the coat tree. "I will not let this go. I can't. I didn't save Iola when she was a prisoner, but I'm going to make damn sure she gets justice in the end."

"Joe, please," Fenton began. "There's nothing you can do here."

Joe jammed his arms into the sleeves of his coat. "I'll figure something out."

"I already spoke with the Mortons. They understand. They said that Iola knew it would end up this way, and she can live with it."

"Yeah, well I can't." Joe opened the office door, then slammed it closed behind him.

OOO

"That went well," Fenton said, as he turned toward his oldest son.

"Did you expect something different?" Frank asked. He knew Joe would react badly to this news. His brother's guilt over not rescuing Iola was still hovering somewhere around 'overwhelming.'

"Not really. I just hope he doesn't do something stupid that we'll all regret."

"Give him some time," Frank said. "He needs to process this. Maybe I'll have Iola talk to him. She could help him see the light."

"Maybe," Fenton agreed. "How are things between them these days?"

Frank reached for his phone. "I don't think they speak much. It upsets Vanessa."

"Is that fair to Joe?"

"I don't know." Frank scrolled through his phone and paused on a text from Callie. It included a photo of Iola walking down a street in New York, arm in arm with Cooper Armstrong. "Iola seems to have moved on from Joe, so I doubt Vanessa has anything to worry about. This whole situation has Vanessa on edge. Not many people have their boyfriend's ex come back from the dead."

Fenton scrubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah. And, I can see everyone's point of view here. I don't know what I'd do in their shoes."

"The only thing we can do is support Joe," Frank said. "Oh, and make sure he doesn't attempt to interfere in affairs of state and international politics."

Fenton snorted. "Yeah."

OOOoooOOO

Cooper looked up from his position at the art table, as Iola interacted with the children in the playroom. She was standing in the middle of the room blowing bubbles, and the preschoolers were running around her trying to pop them. The joy on Iola's face mirrored the joy of the little ones, and the entire scene made him smile.

The children had taken to her immediately, confirming to Cooper everything he'd already known about her instinctively. She had a warm, generous, heart, and a sincere desire to help others. That was an important quality to him, and being with children was a great litmus test.

He'd brought one or two other women here in the past, and the tight, strained, expressions on their faces, as well as their disinterested behavior around the children, had quickly eliminated them from the list of women he cared to have a relationship with.

The children now led Iola to the part of the room set up like a house, with child-sized kitchen appliances, a table and chairs, and dolls.

"Cooper, we need you," a pint-sized, three year old girl ordered. "You have to be the daddy. We're playing house."

Cooper set down his crayon, stood, and smiled. "You want me to be the daddy?"

"You have to, you're the man." The little girl was very matter of fact in her tone. She pointed at Iola. "She's the mommy, you're the daddy, and we're your kids."

Cooper glanced around at the fifteen or so children in the room. "All of you are our kids?"

The little girl nodded solemnly and came over to take Cooper's hand. "Yes. Now you have to go to work."

"And what does Mummy do?" Cooper asked, amused by this scenario, and the blush on Iola's cheeks as he glanced at her.

"She stays home and takes care of us," the little girl replied.

"Very traditional gender roles in this household, I see," Cooper remarked.

Iola looked around at the children, then up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "We don't have a choice. The cost of daycare alone would bankrupt us."

The gray haired woman who worked for the center, and supervised the playroom, chuckled. "These children don't usually come from traditional households, and often explore that sort of environment through play. Like playing pirates or princesses for other children."

Cooper grinned. "I'd probably make a much better pirate."

"That can be your day job," Iola teased. "Be sure and bring home plenty of booty. We need to buy groceries."

Cooper shook his head. "I obviously get plenty of booty at home already. Which is what likely got us into this situation in the first place."

The grandmotherly supervisor laughed out loud, and Iola blushed to the roots of her hair.

Cooper winked at Iola, and gestured to a group of boys playing with Legos. "I think I'll be an architect for my day job, and help those lads over there. Well, supervise them, anyway."

The little girl tugged on Cooper's hand. "Now you have to kiss Mommy goodbye."

Cooper looked over at Iola. He hadn't thought she could blush more deeply, but she did. He thought it was adorable.

The grandmother giggled a bit, then said, "Loving parents are sadly often just another fantasy here, too."

That almost broke Cooper's heart. He'd been fortunate to grow up in a wonderful family, and he knew how much that had helped him in life. He reached for Iola and pulled her close.

"You have a fantastic day, my love," he said. Then he brushed his lips over hers in the most gentle of kisses. She was so soft and sweet, he wanted to do it again, but this wasn't the time or place.

Iola stared up at him, wide-eyed. "Y-you, too."

Cooper decided he'd better lighten the mood a bit. She was looking entirely too tempting at the moment.

He glanced down at the fifteen preschoolers hovering around them. "Right. Well, I'm stopping at the clinic for a vasectomy on my way to work. And tonight I'll bring home pizza to celebrate."

Both Iola and the supervisor burst out laughing.

Cooper gave Iola another hug.

This was turning into a wonderful day.