§ § § - January 11, 2000

She couldn't resist slipping soundlessly on bare feet to the half-open door of the TV room, where Christian still slept heavily. Sometime during the night he'd flopped over onto his stomach, and one hand had slid off the mattress and dangled on the floor. Leslie stood fascinated for a while, just looking at him; she'd never seen Christian asleep till now, and the sight gave rise to wistful daydreams of what married life would be like with this man.

She would have liked to go in and sit with him, but she didn't want to wake him up. He might snooze half the day away, after all the sleep he had lost over the weekend. Sighing softly, she returned to her own room, made the bed and got dressed, and went down to join Roarke at the breakfast table.

"Christian's still asleep, then?" Roarke greeted her.

Leslie smiled a little wistfully. "I guess he'll be down for a while yet," she said. "I was just thinking—Christian said last evening that he said he was staying till he got me back. Well, he did…so now what?"

Roarke paused to stare at her. "I hope you're merely joking, my dear daughter," he said ominously.

Leslie shrugged sheepishly. "Actually, now that I think about it, he also said he left a message for the king that he's staying indefinitely. And that could be weeks." She met Roarke's gaze. "I suppose my real question is whether he'll have to move to a bungalow or the hotel, or wind up being our house guest all that time." The last clause came out tentatively, as if she were bracing herself for Roarke's reaction.

Roarke paused again. "Indeed?" was his only response.

Leslie waited, but he said no more, and she finally shrugged one shoulder. "Just wondering."

"I think," said Roarke indulgently, "that the best thing to do is wait until Christian is awake, and we can discuss the matter then."

Mariki appeared at that point with a pitcher. "Well," she said to Leslie, "I suppose your young fool is going to be here a while yet."

Something in Leslie gave way and she rose from the table, pinning Mariki with a sharp glare while Roarke looked on with amusement. "All right, that's enough," she said. "You've called Christian every possible name in English and some in Hawaiian, and you've made I-don't-know-how-many threats about bodily harm on I-don't-know-how-many occasions. You haven't stopped carrying on about what tortures he deserves, and how you, personally, intend to punish him, since he left here over a week ago. He's back and we've made up, and you're still referring to him as 'that young fool'. Well, guess what—I've had it. I've just plain reached my limit. There's a line between being protective and being rude, and you've long since crossed it. I know you're acting out of concern for me, but I'm a big girl now and I'd like to think I've developed a little common sense."

Mariki had been gawking at her this entire time. "Now, Miss Leslie, you know I only want—"

"I know you do," Leslie cut her off. "But let me tell you something—I won't stand for you using Christian as a punching bag anymore. I love that man, and he loves me—I know he does, because he endured eight separate flights to get here to me, and lost far more sleep than was good for him, and never even got to change out of his pajamas, for crying out loud!"

"You still love him, after everything he—" Mariki blurted.

"Yes!" Leslie broke in again, her ire beginning to rise, and started advancing on a now-alarmed Mariki. "I love him, you understand? I'll always love him. Someday he's going to be my husband, and as such, I refuse to put up with any more name-calling, threats or hairy eyeballs out of you! Am I making myself clear?"

Mariki, stunned, goggled at her, then looked at Roarke, as though seeking an appeal. Roarke made a point of concentrating on his breakfast; and Mariki, realizing she was getting no support there, finally capitulated. "All right, Miss Leslie, if you insist," she said reluctantly.

"I do insist," Leslie assured her blackly. "Maybe you don't have to like the situation. Maybe you don't even have to like Christian. But you'd better put a lid on all the sniping."

"Very well," sighed Mariki and left. Leslie waited till she was gone before blowing out a breath and resuming her seat.

Roarke looked up and smiled at her. "Well done, Leslie."

She gave him a surprised look and said, "You didn't mind me scolding her?"

"Frankly," confessed Roarke, "I was beginning to tire of her relentless criticism of Christian myself." They both laughed. "Why don't you enjoy your breakfast."

"Am I too late to join you?" someone asked, and they looked around at Christian, who was clad in a T-shirt that had Lilla Jordsö's flag on the front and denim shorts, but was barefoot. He'd combed his hair, but as he approached, they could see a two-day stubble on his face; and he still looked a little sleepy.

But Roarke smiled, as if Christian were dressed in a business suit. "Not at all, Christian. Good morning."

Christian stopped beside the table and returned Roarke's greeting. "And you look better, my Leslie Rose, as if you finally got a good night's sleep."

"I did, and I think you did too, my love," Leslie remarked. "In fact, I thought you'd sleep till lunchtime."

"It's already nearly nine," noted Roarke. "I believe it was approximately seven when you put him to bed last evening, so perhaps he's slept enough."

"I don't know about that," said Christian, yawning. "Excuse me. My sleep has been so poor lately that it may take me a few days to really catch up. But at least I can think straight now. I can only imagine how ridiculous I must have looked to you two last evening."

Leslie regarded him with a devilish glint in her eye. "All I want to know is, how come you wore your pajamas here? Were all your clothes in the wash?"

They all laughed, and Christian shrugged, taking a seat. "From the moment I decided to come here, I had tunnel vision—couldn't think of anything except my, uh, mission. I'm afraid I walked out of my flat in those very pajamas. And I packed only one bag—which, like a fool, I checked. I had nothing to change into during any of my numerous layovers, and at any rate it didn't occur to me to buy something. Probably an early symptom of my lack of sleep." He thought back over the previous two days. "My mind was elsewhere, and I have no doubt that every tabloid in the US and Europe has printed numerous photos of the crazy runaway prince in his overcoat and pajamas, looking wild-eyed and manic, and perhaps a little murderous."

"Murderous?" echoed Leslie curiously.

"I was on a plane to London before I realized what I was wearing," said Christian. "After that I could only think, Let just one person dare ask me about my clothing, especially some celebrity-rag tattletale, and I'll kill him."

They laughed again, and Christian and Leslie both began to load their plates. Roarke took the opportunity to change the subject. "Since it appears you two have patched things up," he said, "Leslie was wondering how long you intend to remain. You are, of course, welcome to stay as long as you wish; but I must warn you that this is our busiest time of year, and we anticipate no vacancies for at least another two months. Therefore, I see no alternative but that you remain our houseguest."

Christian looked startled. "Mr. Roarke," he exclaimed, "future son-in-law or not, I'm afraid I'll have worn out my welcome around here before a week has passed. Besides, your cook thinks I'm some sort of demon."

"Oh, I took care of Mariki," said Leslie matter-of-factly. "Don't let her bother you."

Roarke smiled broadly. "Yes," he agreed, drawing the word out for emphasis.

Christian glanced back and forth between them. "That sounds like a story I'll want to hear," he said, grinning. "But surely you don't want me cluttering up your extra room for that long."

"Are you still determined to sleep in the jungle?" asked Leslie with affectionate exasperation. "And what in the world is that all about in the first place?"

"When Christian sent his last electronic message advising me he was on his way here, he told me it made no difference where he slept—including a tent in the jungle," Roarke said. "And I believe, in his delirium from last evening, he fixated on that."

"Oh, I see," said Leslie, snickering. "Look, Christian, the jungle's a tad dangerous, and there isn't any other option really. Obviously I'd love you to stay with us, and it doesn't look as if Father has a problem with it. So how long are you staying?"

"I thought," said Christian, "that I should have a branch of my business here on the island, if you're in agreement, Mr. Roarke. I'll have to find a vacant building or storefront to rent, and I'll need to hire two or three employees to run it, especially in my later absence. I think that may encompass about eight to ten weeks, at best estimate. Can you two stand me that long?"

Roarke took in Leslie's bright-eyed, hopeful look and grinned. "I believe I'll look at it as an excellent opportunity for you two to discover the quirks you'll encounter in each other when you're married one day."

"That's a good perspective," remarked Christian laughingly. "I think I'll look at it that way too! I need only your approval of my business venture, and I can begin."

"I think it's a very promising prospect," Roarke said. "By all means, Christian. There will be some preliminary paperwork that I'll draw up this morning, which Leslie can take you into town to file, and then you can begin the legwork. It will do you good to have an established foothold here."

"And it'll be a terrific excuse for business trips here," put in Leslie, beaming impishly. "Arnulf can hardly argue with it when you really do have a business here."

"Exactly," said Christian cheerfully. "Leslie, my darling, you have a wonderfully devious mind. I thank you both most sincerely and gratefully for your incredibly generous hospitality, and I promise to be as light a burden on you as possible."

Roarke surveyed Leslie's glowing eyes and Christian's anticipatory grin, and remarked, "I don't think it will be a burden at all. Leslie will finally cease her moping, and Mariki will learn to accept it in due time."

"Maybe she'll stop bugging me about eating," Leslie said hopefully, and they laughed again and finally settled down to enjoy their breakfast.

Christian, though, hesitated after a few bites and aimed a half-smile at Leslie. "I think I'll wait a week or two to let Arnulf in on the plans," he said wryly. "His royal decree may not be worth much on this side of the planet, but his royal wrath is something else again…and I don't think even Marina will survive it."

Leslie shrugged. "Let him rant and rave. It's really all a lot of hot air. I mean, think about it, Christian—it's not as if you're breaking any laws or endangering anyone's life, including your brother's. He and the count never said your marriage had to be anything but in name, after all. As long as you're stuck in this agreement, and as long as you two are still married, what happens beyond that is none of his business."

Roarke chuckled. "Bluntly stated, but true nevertheless. Try to set your mind at ease, Christian. In this day and age, kings are no longer empowered to remove the heads of their subjects."

Christian's eyes widened and he burst out laughing. "Quite so…and I'd forgotten about that! In that case, if Leslie isn't needed elsewhere, maybe she can help me find a good place for my new branch, among other little errands. Again, Mr. Roarke, I thank you from the bottom of my heart." Roarke smiled acknowledgement, and Christian and Leslie grinned at each other, both looking forward to the weeks ahead.

Yes, this means Christian will appear in the next story! Thanks once again to jtbwriter, Kyryn and Harry2 for all the wonderful feedback you've given me on this one.