To Kiss a King - NIcole Burnham Page 0,13
find our points of agreement, Madam Ambassador.”
His hand shifted slightly against her lower back, but the spot where his hand had been remained warm from his touch. Claire had danced with foreign officials more than once, but for some reason, dancing with King Eduardo felt different. There was a gravitas to the moment she wasn’t certain how to interpret.
“Have you moved into the ambassador's residence?”
“Next week. Ambassador Cartwright’s belongings are scheduled to ship out the day after tomorrow.”
“And after that, I assume it will be cleaned and a fresh security sweep conducted?”
“That’s the routine. My belongings are still in transit from Uganda, so there’s no rush.”
“You'll find the diplomatic community here is very tight-knit. Most embassies are within a few blocks of each other, as are the ambassadors’ residences. Richard Cartwright loved the sense of camaraderie that created. He also mentioned on more than one occasion how much he'd miss the house itself. He’d put off retirement for several years longer than he originally planned in order to accept the position in San Rimini, despite the fact his children and grandchildren are in California.”
“I wasn’t in town in time for the farewell party at the residence, but I understand it was quite the event. He told me that leaving after such an incredible night was bittersweet.”
Eduardo smiled at that. “I didn’t attend, but my daughter, Isabella, was there. He told her the same thing.”
The music grew louder for a moment as the song reached its crescendo. The king waited for the volume to drop, then said, “Isabella hadn’t been inside the residence since before its renovation. She tells me it was beautifully done.”
“It was. Ambassador Cartwright gave me a tour and showed me several 'before' pictures. It’s stunning what was accomplished. The architect and construction crew took care to honor the home’s history. They brought the plumbing and electrical systems to modern standards, but used period fixtures. When you walk through, it feels as if you’re inside the original home.”
“It’s one of the oldest in the area, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It was built by a shipping company owner in the early seventeenth century. His great-great-grandson had no children, so he willed it to a teacher, who opened a school for girls in the late 1700s. She lived on the top floor and the girls lived below. It operated out of the home for nearly a hundred years, when other facilities became available and the school was shuttered. A decade or so later, it was purchased by the U.S. government and refurbished. This was its first major renovation since then. I’m looking forward to exploring its nooks and crannies. Who knows what secrets it holds?”
The king laughed, which drew the attention of several people nearby. Claire was surprised that it sounded so...so human. It wasn't the laugh of a celebrity who knew his every word and utterance was being scrutinized. Rather, it was the type of laugh one heard between friends. One of appreciation.
In the time since he’d greeted her in the rotunda, he’d lost the gloss of self-awareness. Given his position, it was likely temporary, but she liked seeing him this way.
“In that case, I have a feeling you'll enjoy the home for different reasons than Ambassador Cartwright did. I believe he valued its location more than anything else. It’s close to the Strada il Teatro and the nightlife.”
“I understand the allure of the theater, but I’m a terrible gambler. The ability to walk to a casino is wasted on me.”
“No one could be in your position without gambling skills. But I do agree with you about the home. I’ve always had a fondness for old books and the collection in the ambassador's residence is impressive.” A sparkle—either from amusement, or from the chandeliers overhead—lit the king's eyes. “I suspect you’re the type who enjoys a good book.”
“I am. I’m looking forward to seeing what's on the shelves.” His hand shifted on her back, sending another zing of heat along her spine and distracting her, though she recovered enough to say, “It sounds as if you’re familiar with the home's interior.”
“I attended a dinner party there shortly after Ambassador Cartwright came to San Rimini, and we met in the library on a few occasions. It was easier than meeting at the embassy or here in the palace if we had sensitive issues to discuss. I haven’t seen it since the renovation, though.”
She tried to focus on his words, rather than on the way his rich voice and San Riminian accent