Chapter Thirty-One

Harry Pearce had never fancied himself the sort to have a tropical vacation. He'd been stationed in tropical climates and found them humid and full of bugs and more trouble than they're worth. Yes, the beaches were lovely and the palm trees were a nice change of pace from home, but that was something for other people to enjoy. Something for people who did not have the same importance in their lives as Harry did in his.

But here he was, lying out on the deck of a yacht off the coast of Gambon on his honeymoon. He'd chartered the whole thing with the assistance of Tom Quinn and the Royal Guard. Tom himself was there, much to their chagrin, along with a fully vetted crew. But they were all well-trained. Other than the captain asking them where they'd like to go, not a single person bothered them. If it wasn't for the fantastic meals showing up and the cleaning being done, he'd have thought they were completely alone on the boat.

Ruth had been amazed by the surprise. They'd spent their wedding night in the hotel suite which consisted of very little time actually sleeping. Thankfully they were exhausted enough to sleep on the plane, which was privately chartered and Harry still wouldn't tell her where they were going. All she knew was that her bags were packed on her behalf and they'd be spending three weeks away from home. When they were woken by the stewardess for the final descent, Ruth was shocked to see glittering blue water out the window beneath them.

"Where are we!?" she asked in surprise.

"Where do you think we are?" he asked in return, teasing her.

She looked out and Harry could see the brilliant wheels of her mind turning as she figured it out. "I think that's Gambon," she said.

"Right in one," he replied. "I've never been here for pleasure before, and I know it's somewhere you enjoyed traveling."

Ruth blushed. "This was where I went right after you asked me out for the first time. I talked to Grandfather about whether or not I should agree to go to dinner with you when I got back."

"Yes, I know. I remember when you were gone and how much I missed you and how anxious I was if you'd say yes or if I'd completely ruined things between us," he replied softly.

She smiled. "But instead we got married two years later."

Harry leaned in to kiss her softly. "Yes, thank god we did."

When the car took them from the airport to the docks, Ruth got very confused, wondering why they weren't at a hotel. And when Harry showed her the yacht, she'd been overjoyed. Which was exactly his intention.

They'd spent the last ten days lazing about, lying in the sun and swimming in the sea and making love whenever the mood stuck and exploring various parts of the island and eating the most incredible meals and going to bed naked in each other's arms each night. Exactly what a honeymoon trip was supposed to be. For Harry, it was the first time he'd ever had uninterrupted time with Ruth for more than a day or so. And it was absolutely incredible.

He had felt quite sure when he'd proposed—the second time—that he was quite ready to marry her. But as much as he adored her and wanted to be with her, there were a few lingering doubts. Their age difference, for one, still weighed on him sometimes. She was twenty-five years old with her entire life ahead of her. Did she really want to saddle herself to him, a man now entering middle age with two practically grown children? And would he find himself missing his solitude, after having spent so long shunning the company of others most of the time? And, the darkest doubt of them all, would he wake up one day and find himself searching for something else? They'd only been married two weeks, which wasn't much time at all, but Harry found himself losing hold of those fears. They way Ruth looked at him, the way she kissed him, the way she clung to him when he held her in his arms, he knew he never wanted to let her go. And she seemed just as certain that she wouldn't let him.

Harry felt a little hot in the sun and sat up to change positions. He looked over to see Ruth lying on her back wearing a swimsuit that, upon finding it in her bag, had initially made her blush. But Harry had coaxed her into wearing it, since he was the only one who would see her, and she had eventually relented. It was a beautiful deep green color, which looked wonderful with her pale skin and dark hair. The bottoms were cut high on her legs, showing off her shapely hips and thighs, and reached just below her navel. The top barely covered her breasts and showed off her chest and what cleavage she could claim to possess very nicely. Harry sat there for a moment, just gazing at this beautiful woman he could miraculously call his wife.

"Stop staring at me," she grumbled. Her eyes were closed, but she obviously sensed him.

"I can't help it. You're too beautiful," he answered.

Ruth sat up herself at that, putting her hand up to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. "You see me naked every single day," she reminded him with a laugh.

She had never been one to really accept or understand how rather obsessed he was with her beauty. And yes, it was true that she did not have the look of a movie star or a model. Her figure was lovely but not perfect by societal standards. But Harry loved her. And for that reason beyond all other, he found her beautiful. He explained, "I have seen flowers and sunsets nearly every day, too, but that doesn't mean they aren't still beautiful and worth looking at."

That seemed to have the desired effect. Her face spread into a grin and she crawled over to him. "You know, you've already married me. You don't need to try so hard to get into my knickers," she murmured.

What a picture she was, kneeling in front of him like that, her pale eyes shining as she looked at him. Harry pulled her into his arms and lay down so she was on top of him. "There's no fun in an unearned prize," he pointed out.

She shook her head and laughed lightly. "You are a strange man, Sir Harry."

"I'm glad you could look past it to find a way to marry me, Princess," he replied.

Ruth made a little growling sound, as she often did when he teased her about being a princess. Harry just laughed and pulled her back in to kiss him.

They remained that way for an indeterminate amount of time, Ruth lying on top of him and wiggling in a tempting manner as her bare stomach pressed against his and their tongues tangled together till they could barely breathe. Harry would have been quite content to spend the rest of the afternoon that way.

"Your Highness?"

The sudden voice made them both jump apart. Ruth scrambled off him and grabbed her towel to cover her scantily clad body. Harry felt dazed, trying to remember how to breathe and hoping his burgeoning erection wasn't too conspicuous. He stood up and remained slightly behind Ruth, both as a show of deference to her status and to hide himself.

A man in a suit stood there looking very uncomfortable indeed. He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of running caught everyone's attention. Tom came hurrying around the corner of the deck.

"I'm sorry, Miss Ruth," he apologized. "I meant to give you warning, but I had to speak to the captain."

Ruth frowned. "What's going on?"

The man in the suit answered, "King Richard has had a heart attack. He is alive but in hospital. I've been sent by the palace to retrieve you and Sir Harry."

Harry felt Ruth tense beside him. Her hand reached toward him and he took it without question. She squeezed it desperately.

Tom spoke again. "I've already told the captain to take us back to port. I've put in a call to the airport to get a plane ready. The crew are packing your bags now so you can be ready to leave."

The two men left and Ruth turned to her husband. "Harry, what do we…"

He held her tight. "We go home. We'll be there in just a few hours. He's getting the best possible care. You'll get to see him soon. Before you know it," he told her, stroking her hair and trying to keep her calm.

"I have to be there, Harry. If he dies, I have to be there. I can't…I can't not…" She trailed off as her breath hitched.

"Shh, I know, darling," he soothed. "Let's get cleaned up and dressed. We'll be home soon."

He had no idea if they'd make it back in time. If the king died, it would be a massive shift in the whole world. Prince Edmund being crowned would mean countless changes for the country and the colonies and international relations. Foreign Intelligence would be very busy, he knew. But even more important was Ruth's close relationship with her grandfather. Losing him would be a blow to the whole family. Harry himself had a great respect and admiration for the old man. And for a whole variety of reasons, he wasn't much a fan of Edmund. But that was a problem for another day. At least, Harry hoped it was.