§ § § -- December 23, 2001
In the main house, Roarke regarded them, standing there hand in hand and looking as if they might just fall asleep on their feet right there. "You'd both better go on to bed," he said gently. "You have just endured a singularly grueling weekend, and the flood of emotion has exhausted you both to dangerous levels. I'll close up the house for the night—you two just go and get some sleep."
"Good night, Father," Leslie said, her voice weak and slightly shaky. Christian could only nod once or twice. Roarke smiled and gestured at the stairs, and watched them go up, still clinging to each other's hands.
Christian closed the bedroom door behind them and turned to find Leslie staring at him with a hopeful look. "What is it, my Rose?" he asked softly, smiling at her. "Anything you wish, it's yours."
"You forgave the count," she said hesitantly, biting her lip. "Do you think…that you could maybe forgive me too?"
"My darling," he said, shaking his head a little, still smiling. "There's nothing to forgive. You were right—I should have listened to you."
"There is something to forgive, my love," she insisted, reaching for his hands and wrapping hers around them. "I realized it this afternoon…I bumped into some of my friends at the pool, and they saw how upset I was, and they made me realize some things I should have seen on my own. I'm so used to every crazy thing that happens here, I've lost sight of other people's perception of it. I expected far too much from you, without remembering that you still need time to get used to all this." Leslie hung her head. "I never should have screamed at you like I did yesterday. I was so terrified that something was going to happen to you before I could get you back here, I lost my head. When Father had to convince you, I took it all wrong…thinking you should have believed me…"
"It's true," Christian murmured, slipping two fingers under her chin and lifting her head till her gaze met his. "I should have believed you, but I didn't. I'm so very sorry, my Leslie Rose. After you rushed out of here in a rage, your father told me point-blank that you had been his assistant more than long enough for your warnings to carry equal weight to his own. That statement drove the point home to me as nothing else could have done, and you can be certain I'll never forget."
Leslie swallowed thickly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I'm sorry too, my love, more than you know. Please, my darling, will you forgive me?"
"I forgave you long ago," he said gently, resting his hand on her cheek and stroking with just his thumb. "I couldn't have done otherwise. I love you, Leslie, my Rose…I love you so very much. All weekend I wanted more than anything in the world just to touch you, to hold you. I touched you last night when you slept…until you turned to face the other way. I touched you in the study earlier this evening, and you went stiff and cold…"
He watched her eyes fill with tears. "It wasn't you, Christian, my darling," she said in a pleading voice. "Please believe me. I was so terrified that somehow that damned count was going to win, it was all I could do to keep my emotions under control. Oh, Christian, I wanted so badly for you to touch me, I really did. I just needed to hold myself together for that confrontation, and your touch…I almost fell apart when you touched me. All I wanted to do was throw myself into your arms and never come back out."
"Oh, Leslie, my darling," Christian whispered, eyes wide. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't know…I understood then that I truly can't live without you. When it seemed as if you were rejecting me, I didn't even want to live anymore."
"No," she cried softly and hugged him hard, suddenly frightened again. "I love you, Christian, I love you so much. Don't talk like that, please. Oh, I love you…"
He kissed the top of her head and held her securely, rocking her a bit, his heart slowly calming now that they had reconciled. "It's all right now, my Rose," he said, quietly reassuring. "It's all over and everything's right between us again. Do you know that the moment you grabbed my hand and held on as though we were glued together, that's when I began to feel hope again? It told me that you were going to stand by me, that even though you were so angry with me, you meant to honor our wedding vows. It gave me the strength I needed to make my defense to Mephistopheles." He drew back and smiled at her. "You were there for me when I needed you, and that meant so much to me. I can't ever thank you enough for that. When you need me, you can count on me, that much is certain." A light filled her eyes, and his smile broadened before he drove the fingers of both hands into her hair, lowered his head and kissed her deeply, trying to express all he felt for her. She instantly responded, with equal enthusiasm, and out of nowhere a wild need surged to life within both of them at the same moment. Neither knew anything for a good forty minutes after that, too lost in each other to think of anything else.
The clock showed several minutes past one in the morning when Christian reached across his wife and turned out the lamp, then settled back down beside her and wrapped a possessive arm around her. Leslie stirred and murmured, "We have to—"
"No, my darling, we don't," Christian said softly. "Right now we don't have to do anything. It can all wait for morning. I just want to hold you the way I didn't dare to do last night. Go to sleep, my Rose…we need to rest, and you know I worry about you."
Leslie was only too happy to give in. She relaxed in his embrace and cuddled against him, closing her eyes. "I love you, my darling Christian," she said drowsily.
"I love you too, my precious Leslie Rose. Never forget that." He dropped a last kiss on her forehead and closed his eyes; in a few minutes they were asleep.
§ § § -- December 24, 2001
About to go down for breakfast, Roarke stepped out of his own room and closed the door, then stopped at Leslie's, tapping gently. There was no response, so he eased the door open and checked on the young couple. They were still deeply asleep; Christian was curled protectively around Leslie, with an arm over her, and she lay with his warmth at her back, her hand wrapped around his and both tucked under her chin. Their faces were peaceful in slumber. Roarke smiled. He'd heard their soft voices behind the door last night as he'd come up to get some sleep, and had been very glad to know they were talking and setting things to rights. He couldn't remember ever before finding it so difficult to witness discord, and it had taken all he could summon up just to keep his peace and let Christian and Leslie find their own way back.
His smile got a trace of the imp about it and he narrowed his dark eyes slightly till the tiny alarm button on Leslie's bedside clock shifted to its "off" position, before retreating and silently pulling the door closed again. They had been through too much; they should sleep as long as possible. Once on the veranda, he saw Mariki just approaching the table and nodded in greeting. She stopped and watched him for a few steps, then asked, "What about Prince Christian and Miss Leslie?"
"They're still sleeping, and they are to be left alone as long as they wish," Roarke said. "They've just come through the most difficult experience of their lives together, and they need all the sleep they can get. I doubt they'll be down for this meal, so leave it at that."
"I suppose," Mariki said, sighing. "What is it about Miss Leslie especially that she stops eating when something bad happens?"
"That's how she is, Mariki," Roarke said, taking his usual chair. "In some people, as in Leslie, intense negative emotion destroys the appetite. There is no forcing them to eat in those situations. Leslie has complained on numerous occasions about what she perceives as your nagging. Between that and the ordeal she and Christian were enduring, it was little wonder she snapped at you as she did. Don't mention it to her. It will undoubtedly bother her and she'll apologize for it. But you must understand the strain she and Christian both were under…I noticed that you began to badger him about his eating habits as well." He gave her a look that made her turn bright red.
"I worry about them both, Mr. Roarke," Mariki said defensively. "After all, not eating doesn't solve anything, and it could weaken their defenses." She saw his expression change again and sighed. "All right, I'll stop. But those two are almost like my own children, you know that. Actually, Miss Leslie was often a good bit better-behaved than mine…" Roarke chuckled, and she put out dishes and returned to the kitchen.
Half an hour later Roarke finished, checked his watch and arose, just in time to meet the driver who came to take him to the plane dock. It being the final weekend before Christmas, Mephistopheles and Count LiSciola had been the only fantasizing guests they'd had, so that it was no hardship for Roarke to go alone to see to it that the count boarded the plane and kept his promise to Christian.
The count stood waiting, nodding at Roarke with an unusual subjection about him. "I thank you for your hospitality, Roarke," he said. "In consideration of my purpose for coming here, perhaps I should be amazed."
"It's my business," Roarke said simply. "What plans do you have upon your return to Grottaminarda, if I may ask?"
The count sighed and said with a shrug, "Nothing special, I shouldn't think. Merely more of the usual wondering if my child will ever truly be cared for by that young weed she married, and if he will ever find something he has talent for, so that he can make a respectable living and stop pleading with me to pay off some delinquent bill. It's eating up the money from Paola's end of the business."
"The illicit end that was the source of the drug black lightning, you mean?" Roarke asked, quietly but pointedly. "Forgive me, my dear count, but I am afraid I fail to see it as anything but poetic justice." The count gave him such a rueful look that he smiled in spite of himself. "Surely you have other accounts than that of the jordiska royals."
"I do…it's merely that theirs was my largest account. It's my understanding that the youngster who holds it now is related to you, is he not?"
"The son of my late first cousin," Roarke said with a nod. "It has occurred to me, Count LiSciola, that you overreached yourself. Perhaps even Christian's brother had grown weary of your attempts at manipulation, or else he should not have so abruptly terminated the contract. That, I might add, was really no breach either. It was due for renewal in any case, was it not, this past January?"
The count stared at him. "It was," he allowed, "but I doubt strongly that the reason the king didn't bother to renew has anything to do with whether he still enjoyed controlling the young prince's life. He spoke with my representative in their capital at the time he was offered the new contract, and when I learned of the conversation, I contacted the king directly. He stated in no uncertain terms that your cousin's boy produced a spice of far superior quality to mine—and at a much more attractive price."
"That 'more attractive price' may not have been strictly monetary," Roarke said.
"Perhaps." The count shrugged and shook his head. "Whatever the reasons, it's clear I must make other arrangements, other plans. Here, Roarke." Unexpectedly he reached into his cape and withdrew the parchment, thrusting it at Roarke. "I want no further reminders of this incident. If you prefer, give it to the young prince and let him do as he will with it. If I keep it, I will never be able to put away the reminder of what should have been." He gave a faint bow and clacked his Italian-leather heels together. "Goodbye, Roarke, and prosperity and peace to you. Again, thank you." He didn't wait for a reply but strode rapidly for the dock, refusing the leis the native girls tried to give him.
Roarke watched him for a moment, eyed the paper in his hand, then let out a small huff of amusement and returned to the waiting car, slipping the parchment into an inner pocket of his suit jacket. He could just imagine Christian's reaction when he gave it to him, and it was enough to put a broad grin on his handsome features.
To his surprise, Christian and Leslie were at the breakfast table when the car stopped in front of the main house. They both greeted him cheerfully when he came to join them, and he smiled broadly. "Now that's what I much prefer to see…you two back in love where you belong," he said.
Christian chuckled and Leslie grinned, her cheeks going pink. "I'm sorry I wasn't up, Father," she said. "My alarm didn't go off for some reason."
"Of course not," Roarke said mischievously, "for I was that reason." He laughed at the startled look Leslie exchanged with Christian. "It was better that you both got as much sleep as you could. For that matter, I expected you to sleep longer than this."
"We were hungry," Christian said simply. "Especially Leslie…which has made Mariki the happiest woman on the entire island." They all laughed; Roarke sat back, then reached into his jacket, pulled out the parchment and handed it across the table to Christian.
"A parting gift," he said when Christian stared quizzically at it.
"That looks like the contract," Leslie said in surprise.
"It is," Roarke confirmed, watching Christian slowly unfold it and stare at it with a puzzled frown.
"Why would he give it to me?" Christian asked, completely at sea.
Roarke said, "He told me he wanted no reminders of what transpired this weekend, and suggested I give it to you to do with as you would. It seems to me that he couldn't bear the sight of it, with its crucial omissions to reinforce the point that his and your father's attempt to use you as a bargaining chip was invalid from the beginning."
"And there were enough of them, to be sure," Christian said through a heavy sigh before looking up with a sudden gleam in his eye. "For the count, the devil was quite literally in the details, wasn't it?"
Roarke stared at him; Leslie groaned aloud, "Oh, Christian…!" Christian smirked.
"Maybe you two had better go home," Roarke remarked, at which Leslie instantly burst out laughing. Christian raised his eyebrows at her, visibly trying not to laugh himself, and looked at Roarke with a lost-puppy stare.
"Does that mean we can't come here for Christmas dinner?" he asked, setting off Roarke as well. Christian finally lost control and joined in.