To Kiss a King - NIcole Burnham Page 0,11
a different one, an arrangement by John Barry that was featured in the movie Out of Africa.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Ah. I see why you might find the choice amusing. I doubt anyone has made the connection to your last assignment.”
“It would be a stretch. But yes, it amused me.” A soft smile hovered on her lips as she watched the musicians. “It’s actually one of my favorite pieces. Have you seen the movie?”
“Years ago. I’m afraid I don’t remember much of it.”
She took a slow sip of her wine, then said, “There’s a point in the film where the main character, Karen Blixen, is forced to sell all her belongings. Furniture, artwork, even her mother’s dishes. Everything she has collected over a lifetime in Denmark and Kenya. It was stacked outside her farmhouse one night, ready for a rummage sale the next morning. She sat in her empty house, eating dinner off the top of a packing crate.” Claire raised a hand, gesturing at an imaginary house as she spoke. “You could feel her misery and sense of failure, that this woman who’d worked so hard was about to lose the sum total of her life. Robert Redford’s character, Denys, entered the house. The sight of her gutted him. She told him that when things were bad, she tried to make them worse in her head. When she did that, she knew she could withstand anything. She asked if he would help her. When he nodded, she turned to her gramophone, which was sitting nearby, and put on this song. They danced through the empty house, then into the front yard, through the middle of all her belongings. By the end, they were both smiling.” Claire’s own smile broadened a notch. “It was a message about valuing experiences and people over things. To focus on the moment and let the rest of the world go by. At least, that was the message I took from it.”
“You make me want to watch the movie again and pay better attention.”
“It’s one of those rare movies worth a rewatch.” She took a final sip of her wine as the song ended and the orchestra transitioned to a new tune. A waiter materialized to take her glass and offer her another. She declined, then discreetly smoothed her bright red skirt. She had a unique look. Her wide eyes were framed by dark lashes and thick brows. She had smooth olive skin and the kind of full lips that other women paid plastic surgeons scandalous amounts to copy. He wondered what her background might be—if she spoke any languages besides English, where her personal politics centered, if she had any hobbies—and told himself he'd ask Sergio tomorrow. Sergio always seemed to have that kind of information at his fingertips, and Eduardo found he wanted to know more about Claire than what had come from the briefing materials that had been prepared for him.
“Your Highness, it's probably a terrible breach of etiquette—all right, I know this is a breach of etiquette—but I have a question.”
"Of course. You may ask anything.” He set his water glass on a nearby tray as she glanced toward Isabella and Nick, who were now leaving the dance floor to talk to a group of guests.
In that moment, he knew what she was going to ask. He spoke before she could. “Madam Ambassador, were you planning to ask me to dance?"
Chapter 3
He couldn't possibly have said what she thought she heard. Could he?
“Your Highness?” Claire forced herself not to take a step back or to allow the space between her brows to crease into a frown, as she knew it frequently did when she heard something unbelievable.
He extended his elbow toward her. “Would you care to dance?”
So he had said it. Clearly, she had a lot to learn about how things worked in San Rimini.
“I’d be honored.”
His mouth rose into an odd half-smile as she placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her toward the center of the room, where most of the other guests now spun under the crystal chandeliers.
It made sense, she supposed. Usually the host at events like this would dance with the guest of honor or the guest's spouse. But somehow, it'd never crossed her mind that she was expected to dance with the king. Karen had never mentioned it. Nor had Sergio Ribisi when he ran over the schedule of events with her, and he’d been quite detailed.
Somewhere in the