Thank you for your continued support.
Standard disclaimer.
'Please leave me alone, so I can get myself together,' Gwen thought, as Arthur moved away, to answer the phone.
She drew in slow, deliberate breaths, as she moved to the edge of the balcony and steadied her legs.
Her hands shook when she grasped the rail and she closed her eyes, thankful Arthur couldn't see her.
Refastening her bra, she felt her cheeks heat, at how quickly he'd aroused her.
He had found his way around her body in no time, and he could have easily taken her, on the patio table within moments.
Gwen was definitely out of her league, with this man.
The only thing she'd ever done on a patio table, was to eat cheeseburgers. Arthur's voice cut through her thoughts and she turned to him.
"There's been a rock slide on one of our major roads, traveling to the other side of the island," he said, the phone still in his hand, as he stepped in the door.
"I need to make a few calls, to authorize an intervention." A chill raced through her.
"Was anyone hurt?"
"Yes, but no fatalities yet."
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, then she answered her own question. "I can get out of here, so you can make the calls."
She tripped over the leg of one of the chairs. Arthur reached out for her, but she jumped back so he couldn't get to her.
"Uh...I'm fine," she said, in a voice that sounded high pitched, to her own ears.
Heaven help her, she needed a clear head.
She bit back an oath and wished she didn't feel so jittery.
"I'm sorry we were interrupted," he said.
"It was probably for the best," she replied, avoiding his gaze, as she moved passed him in the doorway. "We went a little further than I...uh, think was wise."
Arthur shook head, put his hand on her arm and pulled her against him.
"On the contrary, my dear, I would have preferred, if we'd gone much further. And we will," he said, as if he was making a promise.
He softly kissed her lips, then, her neck and patted her bum, to break the stunned look on her face. And like a robot, Gwen exited his quarters and headed for hers.
Prince Andrew made terrific progress on his lessons, during the next few days, but Gwen could see he was longing for another adventure.
Because of her foot, she still wasn't allowed to be doing anything involving water, except for bathing, which she did in a tub. So, she enlisted Francis' reticent help.
"Done," Andrew said, as he completed his last work sheet for the day.
He drummed his pencil against the desk and glanced out the window.
"We still can't go to the pond, can we?" he asked glumly. Gwen rubbed his cowlick and smiled.
"No, but we can go for a drive." Andrew looked at her in disbelief.
"Security is going to let you drive me?" She made a funny face at him.
"No, but I'll have you know, I'm an excellent driver. Especially in countries, where cars are driven on the right side of the road," she insisted as she stood.
"Some guy named Hans is driving, and another guy is riding shotgun. Francis is coming along, too," she ended.
"This sounds like a lot of fun," Andrew said, in a doubtful tone.
"Would you rather stay inside the palace?" He met her gaze.
"No."
"Then, you can be my tour guide. I'll bring along a few books in case you get bored. Francis says you have to dress better, just in case someone sees you. I'll do the same and meet you in ten minutes."
As she walked toward he room, Gwen wondered why Francis felt, she and Andrew needed three palace escorts, for a little drive.
Geez, did he think she would really cause an international incident?
A gleaming black Mercedes, took them through colorful streets and past azure-blue waters.
Andrew pointed out government buildings and the hospital, that bore his late grandfather's name.
As they drove passed a road blocked off for construction work, Gwen studied the scene.
"Is this where the rock fall took place?" she asked, ducking to look up the winding road, now mostly cleared. Francis nodded.
"Yes, it's a priority of Prince Arthur, to improve the island's infrastructure. The economy is changing."
"My father wants to try to find a way, to bring in new businesses, to make more jobs for people."
"Oh, looks like a clinic," Gwen said, taking in the small, but lovely white building.
"Some of the children who were victims of the rock fall, are recovering there," Francis said. An idea sprouted in Gwen's head.
"I'd like to stop," she said. Hans slowed the vehicle.
"We cannot stop," Francis said. "A stop is not on our itinerary."
"Just for five minutes," she said. "I could give a few of these books to the children."
"I want to go, too," Andrew said. Francis sputtered.
"Absolutely not! It may not be safe." Gwen shot him a look of disbelief.
"A clinic? It's not as if it's a brothel."
"What's a brothel?" Andrew asked. Francis glared at Gwen.
"I knew this was going to be trouble. You promised." Impatience stung her.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, what can happen? The bodyguards can check out the place first, escort us in, and Andrew can learn a little lesson about charity. Do you really want to discourage His Highness, from doing something good for the citizens of his country?"
Francis gave a heavy, unhappy sigh and continued to glare at her. He said something in another language to Hans, who then proceeded to pull the car, into the tiny parking lot, beside the clinic.
Hans and Francis went into the clinic while Rolf, the other guy, sat in the car with Gwen and Andrew.
"Which books do you want to give away?" Gwen asked Andrew, and his face fell.
"These are my favorites."
Gwen's heart swelled so tight, she thought it would burst.
Less than two weeks ago, Andrew hated books. Now he had favorites.
"Well, let's suppose I could replace all of them, within a week, which would you like to donate?"
"You're sure you can get more?"
"Pretty sure." He shrugged.
"Then I guess I can give away all of them." Gwen covered her heart.
"You are growing to be such a fine man." He was silent for a moment.
"You think so?"
"Oh, I know so." He sat up straighter and looked through the window, squirming with excitement.
Francis returned and opened the car door.
"We will only stay for five minutes. We will visit no more than four patients. We will leave when I say. No arguments," he said, shooting a meaningful glance at Andrew.
Gwen nodded.
She would have preferred a fifteen-minute visit, but since Francis was acting, as if she'd asked for the crown jewels, she would be happy with five minutes.
She bent down to Andrew and whispered in his ear,
"Tuck in your shirt and be your nice self. They'll love you."
As soon as they entered, Gwen watched a line of nurses bow and murmur,
" Welcome, Your Highness." The excitement and curiosity on their faces was apparent.
"Thank you," Andrew said. Then, "Good afternoon. I would like to meet some of the children, who were hurt by the rock fall." A nun stepped forward and bowed.
"Please come this way," she said, and led the small entourage into a small room of girls, with various injuries.
Andrew shook hands with each of them and offered a book to the girls who could read.
He made one last visit in another room, where a little boy with a bandage wrapped around his head and another over his eye, lay in bed.
"This is Richard. His family was in a truck when the rock fall took place."
"Your Highness," Richard said, with excitement in his voice.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Andrew said, in his most proper voice. "Does your head hurt a lot?"
"It did, but it's better now, and they give us ice cream," the boy said with a smile.
"I get ice cream when I'm sick, too," Andrew said and extended a book to the boy. "Would you like a book? My teacher brought it from America. It's one of my favorites."
The little boy gaped in surprise.
"I hope you like it," Andrew said, then shot a grin at Gwen. A camera flashed, right at that moment and the bodyguard stepped in front of Andrew.
"We must leave now," Francis said with a frown.
"Thank you, Your Highness," Richard said.
"Bye," Andrew called, as Francis hustled him out of the clinic.
"I knew something would go wrong," Francis fretted, as he helped Prince Andrew into the car. Gwen shook her head.
"What went wrong? Andrew was great."
"The photo," Francis said. "The prince will be furious."
"Which prince?" Gwen asked.
"Prince Arthur," he said impatiently. "He doesn't like Andrew's photo taken without permission. It's a protective policy," he explained to Gwen.
"Oh," she said, understanding why Arthur would want to guard Andrew's privacy, although in her opinion, Andrew had a little too much privacy and isolation.
"Maybe, it won't get out, or maybe, the person who took it, will save it for their grand-children and not want to share."
The photo was on the front page of the evening paper.
Gwen and Francis were summoned to Prince Arthur's office and he didn't look pleased, as he stood and held the newspaper in his hand.
His brother Henry, sat on a love seat and shot Gwen a look of sympathy.
Arthur held out the front page.
"I want an explanation."
Gwen tilted her head and looked at the enlarged photo. Prince Andrew and Richard were smiling from ear to ear.
Her heart melted. Heaven help her, but she was growing to love Andrew.
"Those smiles are incredible, aren't they?" she nervously asked. Arthur glanced at the photo and met her gaze.
"That's not the point. I have a policy concerning photos taken of my son. Why was this policy ignored?"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. I accept full responsibility," Francis said in a martyred tone. Gwen frowned.
"It's not Francis' fault. I twisted his arm into letting us go for a drive, because I could tell Andrew felt cooped up. When we saw the clinic, I thought it would be a great lesson for Andrew, to visit the injured children, and I badgered Francis into doing that, too.
We were in the clinic for a whopping five minutes, with two bodyguards, that looked like they belonged in the World Wrestling Federation. No one expected the photo. It's my fault. If you're going to tear a strip off someone, Your Highness, it should be me."
Arthur paused, then turned back to Francis.
"Madam Guinevere was not familiar with my policy, regarding photos of Prince Andrew. You were."
"Yes, I was, Your Highness and…"
Although Francis drove her nuts at times, Gwen couldn't bear for him to take the heat, when it was rightfully hers. She stepped in front of Francis.
"It's not his fault. Even if I'd known your policy about photos, I probably would have made the same decision. Andrew did something good and felt good about it. Besides, it's a terrific photo."
"What if it had been terrible? Andrew would have been forced to relive the viewing of it, a hundred times, through countless reprints, throughout his life?"
Gwen's heart sank.
"That wouldn't be much fun. I don't suppose you can issue an order about bad pictures, can you?"
"No. I can't," he said curtly.
"So you try to limit his exposure, with boring official palace photographs, right?" She heard Francis give a sharp intake of breath, at the same time Arthur nodded.
"But the public will eat this up," she said. Suddenly, she thought about all Arthur had said, and felt a heavy, sinking realization inside her.
"I've been just as bad as your advisors, trying to tell you how to raise your son. You have your reasons. I may not totally agree, but I would never want Andrew hurt. Never," she said, feeling tears sting her eyes. "I'm so sorry."
She saw a flash of warmth in his gaze, but he only nodded at her. He glanced over her shoulder at Francis.
"Francis, Madam Guinevere continues to present new opportunities for Andrew. I commend you for your creativity, in balancing her ideas with palace security."
"Just one more thing," Gwen said, and heard Francis make a choking sound behind her.
"I can see why the photo issue is a big deal, and I think it's wonderful that you want to protect Andrew, but I'd hate to think he can only go out at night, because he's forbidden to have his photo taken. There's another way to protect him, and that would be cultivating a sense of humor."
"Are you finished?" Arthur said, more than asked.
"I guess so," she said, feeling as if someone had let the air out of her balloon.
"I will take your suggestion under advisement," Arthur said formally.
Her lips twitched, as she remembered, he used those same words, when he didn't like the advice he received from the advisors.
She was loathe to be included in that category. She sighed.
"I'd rather you were more direct and just tell me to stick it." Henry snickered, and Arthur gave her a long-suffering glance.
"I will truly take your suggestion under advisement."
"Oh," she said, feeling a rush of surprising pleasure. "You're not just blowing me off. You mean it."
"Yes, I mean it," he said, eyes glinting with masculine humor, while his lips remained straight.
She would have to ask him how, he could make his eyes smile when his lips didn't.
Later.
Stay safe, stay blessed and stay home.