Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,17

seemed more complicated than the invasion of Normandy, and I thought the mother of the bride was going to have a nervous breakdown before it was over. My own mother wasn’t far behind.”

“Oh, yes, I remember my sisters’ weddings. Fortunately I was in school for much of the preparation.” He looked around the living room. “Do you have a jacket? The wind can be cool on the water.”

She reached for a spring-green windbreaker and her tan leather handbag and locked the door behind them. Fortunately Senhor de Sousa was nowhere in sight but was probably peering out past the curtains. They walked down the hill through the town and to the docks, Frank tucking her hand into his arm as they walked.

“Watch your step,” he cautioned as they arrived at the docks. He guided her over the boards to a large launch for a rather small yacht. She was no naval expert, having a better eye for airplanes, but it looked to be perfectly adequate for traveling the fifteen or so miles to Belas Aguas.

The boat was locked up tight with no sight of Frank’s assistant. “What project is your friend Benedito working on?”

“Hopefully catching his flight back to Lisbon.” Frank stepped onto the boat first and helped her aboard.

“What?” They were alone? All alone?

“No, I didn’t try to get rid of him.” Frank smiled at her. “He said his wife had called with a medical issue and he needed to get back to the fazenda to care for her. I’m going to start the boat.” He climbed the short flight of stairs to the enclosed bridge and unlocked the door.

Julia’s antennae popped up and she followed him. Diagnosis had always been one of the favorite parts of her job. “What kind of medical issue?”

He turned over the engine, which came to life with a dignified roar. “Ah, that intrigues you.” He raised his voice to be heard over the engine. “However, I’m unable to provide any more information except that they were ‘female problems.’”

“That could cover a lot of different things.” And many women were understandably reluctant to discuss gynecological problems with men, especially a husband’s boss.

“Leonor has always been very healthy so I am sure everything will be all right.” He smiled at her and then went back to checking various gauges and dials on the control panel.

“It’s good of you to let him go back considering all the work you have left.”

He gave her an amused look tinged with exasperation. “We’re not in the business of oppressing peasants anymore, Julia. The man tells me his wife is sick, he goes to her. He’s not a serf.”

“Of course.” She’d never gotten used to the idea that he was literally the lord of the manor and assumed some old rules still applied.

“Make yourself comfortable while I untie the boat.” Frank flicked one of her curls as he passed her, and a warm feeling banished some of the anxiety in her stomach.

She peered out the back window at the deck. The boat had room for several sunbathers and she guessed there was probably a good-size galley, or kitchen, in the level below the bridge.

Frank worked easily, undoing the lines and making sure the boat was clear. He stopped to greet a passing deckhand, who quickly lost his awe of the Duke of Santas Aguas after a minute of masculine banter. Julia could only imagine what joke caused the two of them to break into laughter.

The deckhand was still grinning as he strolled away and Frank whistled a tune as he disappeared from sight to the front of the boat.

Julia looked out to sea. Looked like clear sailing, or motoring rather. She heard Frank’s steps. “A nice day to be on the water.”

He grinned. “For the forty or so minutes we’ll be on it.”

“The clouds are beautiful—bright white and puffy.” She laughed. “My dad would kill me if he heard me describing them that way. Being in the Air Force, he was a meteorology expert and made me call them by the proper names.”

Frank checked the dials once more and then hit a button that started a grinding noise. “That’s to lift the anchor,” he explained. “What kind of clouds do we have today in the beautiful Azores?”

“Since the Azores are almost four hundred miles from end to end, I can’t presume to speak for the rest of the islands.”

He nodded his head gravely but she could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “And our little corner of this

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