§ § § - July 15, 1996

Leslie predictably overslept on Sunday morning and had to scramble into her clothes and rush down to the veranda for breakfast. Roarke looked up at her approach and regarded her with an ironic smile. "I'm so pleased you could join me, Leslie."

She grinned sheepishly and took her usual chair. "I'm sorry, Father. Have I put either you or Mariki out of your way somehow?"

Relenting, Roarke chuckled. "No, although she did express some concern over you. I have no doubt you had rather a rough night, between your long stay at the lagoon to think and the effort it took you to return home."

Leslie shook her head with amused resignation. "I suppose that means you also know Christian was here last night, trying to talk me out of thinking I'm a jinx."

"I didn't until you told me just this moment, but I can't say I'm surprised," Roarke commented. "He must surely have given you a great deal of food for thought."

"At least a Thanksgiving dinner's worth," Leslie bantered, evoking another chuckle from him. "You're right…I was so upset when I first ran off, I just let the limo driver leave after he dropped me off, and I forgot my shoes in the car." She made a face. "And then when I realized I had no idea what time it was, I waited by the road hoping a bus would show up...but I had to walk barefoot maybe two or three miles before it did. I got lucky that some driver was pulling the graveyard shift at that hour; I was the only one on the bus all the way home." Roarke laughed, and she sighed. "Anyway, Christian spent a good forty minutes trying to argue me out of my fears. I was awake till close to four in the morning, processing his words. But one thing kept coming back to me, again and again."

Roarke looked up from his plate when she let a silence elapse. "What would that be?"

She hesitated, staring back at him with that childlike hope blooming again. "Christian suggested that maybe if he were to stay here on the island with me, it would prevent anything bad happening to him. He said that my family and Tattoo and Teppo all died in other places, so if he came here it might make a difference. Could it really be true? Would living here with me protect him at all? It's always been a refuge for me, the home I knew I could come back to, and I've never known anything but happiness here."

Roarke's expression was already gently regretful. "Aside from your generously selective memory, my child, I can say only that if I could give you such a guarantee, I would do so in a heartbeat. Even on Fantasy Island, the life cycle turns, just as it does everywhere else on earth. I can't promise you that nothing would happen to Christian should he move here permanently." He saw her dismay and reached across the table to pat her hand. "I think you knew that already, sweetheart, but you were willing to clutch at straws in order to convince yourself that you could risk accepting Christian's marriage proposal."

"It was a nice idea," she murmured wistfully.

"Indeed," Roarke concurred, "and in its way, it's flattering!" He sat back and smiled a little. "If we were to assume Christian's last-ditch idea had merit, and posit the concept that he could be safe from harm here, the fact remains even then that you could never know unless you took the risk." He gazed solemnly at her. "The real point, Leslie, is that you must follow your heart. You will never know whether you could have had a long and happy life with Christian unless you take the chance and accept his proposal. Love often means you must take a risk, and if you are enough in love, you will do so gladly for the sake of your happiness and his."

"Hmmmmm…" Leslie murmured, eyes unseeing, pondering.

Once more Roarke leaned forward, the movement catching her attention and making her focus on him. "Tell me, child, wouldn't you regret it if you turned Christian down and let him walk out of your life forever, because of the fear of what might happen?" He tilted his head a bit to one side and smiled ever so slightly, a wealth of emotion glittering from his dark eyes. His next words were deliberate. "I have no regrets about marrying Helena Marsh all those years ago. Yes, I knew she was dying of a brain tumor, but I risked my heart and married her nonetheless. I'll never regret it, because we had such happiness in the few days we were husband and wife. I have always treasured those memories."

Leslie stared at him, amazed at this admission, knowing on some level what it must have cost him to bring back those few precious memories. Yet, when he smiled fully at her, it was with joy and nothing else; and in that moment she knew what she must do.

"Thank you, Father," she said and reached over to squeeze his hand. "You've been more help than you can imagine."

After that she could barely eat for her excitement; but as it turned out, she didn't have to wait too long, since Christian kept his word and appeared at the same time Mariki came out to clear away the breakfast dishes. "Ah, good morning, Christian," Roarke greeted him, as if it were only another ordinary day.

"Good morning, Mr. Roarke…and good morning to you as well, Leslie Rose," Christian said, pausing near the table and eyeing Leslie with meaning. "You know why I'm here, don't you? Unless somehow you developed amnesia overnight."

Leslie winked surreptitiously at Roarke and then turned a blank look on him. "Uh, do I know you? What's your name again?"

"Don't you dare!" Christian exploded, and Leslie burst out laughing. Roarke looked on with a broad grin, enjoying their teasing. "You'll have to forgive me for stealing your daughter, Mr. Roarke, but she owes me an answer and I won't let her off the hook until she gives it to me. And it had better be the right answer."

Leslie, still with a wicked glint in her eye, tilted her head aslant and inquired sweetly, "Would you mind repeating the question?"

This time Roarke was the one who laughed. "Leslie, may I humbly suggest that you stop trying the poor man's patience, before I find myself forced to have him arrested for your murder. As you might say, 'give him a break'."

"Thank you, Mr. Roarke," Christian said and pulled Leslie out of her chair, towing her across the porch with a hasty excuse thrown over his shoulder at Roarke. Once they were on the other end of the veranda, he turned her to face him and held her securely by the arms. "This is your last chance, Leslie, before I do something both Mr. Roarke and I—not to mention you—may regret."

"Maybe if you settle down and give me a chance to find the words I need, you might get that answer you claim to want so badly," Leslie joshed him before clearing her throat and growing serious. "Do you know how long I tossed and turned last night after you left here? I never thought I'd make up my mind. It took a chat with Father over breakfast to make me finally see the lay of the land. And now I know exactly what to do."

"And that would be…?" Christian prodded impatiently.

"Yes," she said simply and smiled. "I admit to being a tad nervous, but I'm willing to take the risk. Yes, Christian, I'll marry you."

Christian's triumphant roar of jubilation carried all the way across the duck pond; passing natives and guests alike stopped to stare in amazement as he hoisted Leslie off the floor and whirled her around once or twice. By the time he set her back down, they were both laughing, hugging each other hard. He noticed the gawkers over her shoulder and yelled gleefully, "Spread the word! Leslie's going to marry me!"

A collective gasp went up from the assorted natives, most of whom were in Roarke's employ and all of whom knew Leslie; and they rushed the porch, full of excited questions. Some of the guests joined in, and Roarke strolled slowly across the veranda, still wearing that broad smile, gazing on with a sense of pride he'd never have openly admitted to.

‡ ‡ ‡

Before sundown, everyone on their end of the island knew that Leslie was engaged to Lilla Jordsö's Prince Christian; and by the time she and Roarke had seen their weekend guests off the following morning, the Fantasy Island Chronicle had clued in the rest of the population by splashing the announcement across its front page in inch-high headlines. As soon as Leslie and Roarke came back from the plane dock, she paused in front of the grandfather clock and began to count seconds aloud. "One, two, three, four, five…"

"It's about time you got back," cried a female voice, and Leslie grinned at a laughing Roarke before turning to beam at her friends, who'd all crowded into the study through the French shutters. Myeko, the owner of the voice, bounded forward and pretended to shake Leslie. "What's wrong with you anyway, Hamilton? Don't you know I'm supposed to get the big scoop for my column?"

"Hey, that was just the headline," Leslie bantered, laughing. "You get the exclusive, in-depth interview." She took in the other girls, who all looked delighted, if a little stunned. "Well, go on and ask those questions I know you're dying to ask."

"How on earth did you meet this guy?" Maureen wanted to know.

Lauren gave her a smug look. "I got 'em together," she bragged with an exaggerated smirk. "She and Mr. Roarke needed somebody to put together their new website, and Brian and I had hired Christian, so I gave her his name."

"Don't be so modest, Lauren," Leslie said, and they all snickered. "Next? Are you writing all this down, Myeko?" Roarke, right on cue, handed Myeko a pad of paper and a pen, bringing on more laughter.

"And he's really that Prince Christian, from Lilla Jordsö?" Camille asked.

"He sure is," Leslie said. "Remember when we were all at your house watching the coronation of King Arnulf II, live from the source in the middle of the night?"

"Yes, that's right!" Tabitha exclaimed. "He was standing at the edge of the TV screen so we didn't always see him. Myeko, I remember you asked who he was, and I explained about him. Remember? He was the only one who didn't have kids with him."

"Yeah, that's right, the hot-looking one!" Myeko blurted, eyes wide. "Wow, Leslie, you lucky dog! This really is a scoop!" The girls giggled again.

"So when's the wedding?" Lauren asked. "Since I more or less introduced you, I think it's only fair I get to be the matron of honor." More laughter mingled with good-natured scoffing as the girls playfully shoved her.

Roarke intervened then. "Ladies, I appreciate that you want to hear the full story, but perhaps you'll be more comfortable gathering in a place where you can sit down. If you can maintain your collective patience for another ten or fifteen minutes, that will give Leslie a chance to change her clothing, and she will be free for the remainder of the day."

Leslie stared at him in astonishment. "What about the usual Monday cleanup?"

Roarke shook his head, smiling. "Leave that to me and the staff, child. It's not every day that my only daughter gets engaged. Hurry, now."

In her absence, Leslie's friends peppered him with questions, which he deflected with humor till she returned in more casual clothing. Once they'd all departed the house, he picked up the phone and began making a series of calls which, some nine hours later, culminated in a special luau being held in honor of Christian and Leslie's engagement. During the course of the party, Myeko cornered the couple and insisted on getting both points of view for what she called "my major scoop", and even took the accompanying photo of them herself. For the next four hours, well-wishers came by and congratulated the pair, and there was abundant food, champagne and dancing.

Sometime past ten, Christian and Leslie took the opportunity provided by a hula dance and found a quiet corner where they could sit relatively undisturbed. Roarke, who had been making the rounds with his employees telling them they could begin breaking the party down, spied them watching the hula with distinctly glassy-eyed expressions and paused nearby. "Wouldn't you two prefer to sleep in a more comfortable place than here in the clearing?" he asked humorously.

They came to life with identical starts and grinned up at him. "I must admit, we're quite worn out," Christian said. "Do you suppose there would be a great hue and cry if we slipped away before the guests left?"

"If so, I'll make your excuses," Roarke promised. "Why don't you leave now, while everyone's attention is diverted." He chuckled at the speed with which they took him up on the offer and returned to his duty.

A safe distance down the path, Christian stopped and pulled Leslie in for a hug. "I may as well tell you now, Leslie Rose," he said wearily. "It will be necessary for me to fly back to Lilla Jordsö to notify my family of my plans and begin proceedings to give up my royal title, so I'll be leaving on the first charter tomorrow morning. I want to get things started quickly, so that I can marry you all the sooner."

"You don't sound especially excited about it," Leslie noted quizzically.

Christian sighed. "Not about returning, no. It's a given that they won't be happy about it, especially Arnulf. My brother is the embodiment of rigid tradition, enamored of pomp and circumstance and pageantry. What I'm about to do isn't unprecedented, but it's definitely rare. I'm only the third royal in Lilla Jordsö's entire history to forfeit the status."

"Oh," murmured Leslie with new understanding, thoughtfully drawing out the word. "So you think you're likely to encounter resistance?"

"I would say it's all but guaranteed. However, I've made up my mind, and even my stern, unyielding brother can't refuse me, king or not." Christian kissed her as if to store up for the days they would be apart, leaving her wanting far more. "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd take you back to my bungalow and no one would see you until dawn…but I have a feeling your father would take strong exception. Just meet me at the plane dock in the morning, that's all I ask."

"I'll be there," Leslie promised and gladly surrendered to another kiss. Breathless in its aftermath, she gazed longingly up at him and admitted, "If you did take me back to your bungalow tonight, I wouldn't resist."

"Don't tempt me," he growled, kissing her once more. "Come on, we'd better get some sleep while we still have enough sense left about us to stop ourselves."