ran adjacent to the palace. Drivers lingered between the vehicles, chatting and smoking cigarettes. One of them could have recognized her as they awaited their clients’ departure from the palace. Either way, she’d been foolish to lean forward in her seat for a look at the palace as she and Miroslav had approached.
“Miroslav or one of the other security team members will get you home safely,” Eduardo promised. “Sergio and Zeno will troubleshoot if there’s a problem.”
Eduardo dressed as she wiggled into her shoes. They were both in the great room, seated on one of its large sofas, when a knock came at the door, then Miroslav entered with Sergio, Zeno, and Luisa at his heels.
Eduardo looked at his assistant in surprise. “Luisa, you didn’t need to come in.”
“I saw the reporters’ vans go by my flat and called the security office to see what was happening. I thought you could use my assistance.”
“She drove her Renault,” Miroslav told Eduardo. “It will draw less attention than taking one of the palace cars. The banquet crew is about to leave, so Luisa can take the ambassador at the same time.”
“Thank you, Luisa, that’s very generous.” Claire said.
“I’m happy to do it, Madam Ambassador.”
Claire looked to Miroslav. “Will I need to duck down in the back?”
Eduardo put a hand on her knee, drawing her attention. “You don’t have to hide if you don’t want to. It’s up to you. Whether you’re seen tonight or not, you’ll be seen with me in the future. The palace won’t comment other than to say ‘we have never commented on the king’s private life.’”
Zeno shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I doubt that will work, Your Highness.”
“Make it work. Aside from stating that we have deep respect for the ambassador, we have no comment.”
He turned to Claire. “I have to go to Denmark on Wednesday. I’ll be back late Thursday. Are you free that night?”
Luisa cleared her throat. “Your Highness, you’re hosting members of the International Paralympic Committee and a group of San Rimini’s Paralympians that evening.”
“Friday?”
“You are free on Friday after eight.”
Claire smiled. “I’ll double check, but I believe I’m free Friday night.”
“Movie at my place.”
“Do you have popcorn?”
“If not, I believe I have the resources to get some.”
“Done.”
Chapter 16
In the four weeks following Claire’s nighttime visit to La Rocca and her fabulously unsuccessful attempt to end their relationship, they had made four unsuccessful attempts to see Out of Africa.
After attempts two, three, and four, Eduardo felt compelled to point out that the first failure was Claire’s fault.
Their original date, on the Friday night after they’d first made love, was rescheduled when a prominent American businessman was arrested and Claire was compelled to stay late at the office. Movie dates two and three were canceled when Eduardo had dinners run longer than expected, though they managed to meet for shorter dates at both the palace and at her residence. They’d taken care to avoid the media, and their efforts kept speculation about their relationship on the back burner, buried at the end of reports. It had helped that Aletta’s sister, Helena Masciaretti, was photographed walking hand-in-hand with a well-known Scottish actor ten years her junior, drawing the attention of both royal watchers and the tabloid press.
For once, Eduardo was more than happy to have Helena in the limelight.
The fourth movie night was scrapped when Arturo and Paolo, Prince Federico’s sons, both came down with strep throat. Before being diagnosed, they’d spent the afternoon in Eduardo’s apartment curled up on his sofa watching television, and he wanted a day to ensure the room was cleaned and that no one else in the family was ill.
The fifth attempt was arranged for a Saturday at the palace.
“We won’t be interrupted this time,” Eduardo promised Claire over dinner at Trattoria Safina, an inconspicuous restaurant located on the Via Vespri, a block downhill from the Strada il Teatro. They’d arrived late on a Friday night, after most tourists had left the area for their hotels and only a few locals remained. Two journalists had spotted Claire entering the restaurant and were staked out across the street, but the trattoria’s shades were positioned such that the men couldn’t identify her dinner companion. Otherwise, Claire and Eduardo had peace and quiet. Basia, the young woman who worked the front of the trattoria, kept an eagle eye on the street. She was the type who could scare off a professional bodybuilder with a glare, despite her small size and wildly colored hair.
Over mushroom-stuffed ravioli and