Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,65

think she could spend so much time with Frank, spend so much time making love with him, and not encounter heartbreak. But maybe she could minimize it if she got away from him. “When can you take me back to São Miguel?”

His shoulders slumped. “Back to your parents’ apartment?”

She nodded, and he looked out to sea. “After the storm. Unless you want to get away badly enough to risk the weather.” He sounded bitter, and she didn’t blame him.

“I’ll pack and we can leave when it clears.” She turned to leave him. “I am sorry, Frank.”

He faced her, his eyes shocking in their desolation. “Don’t apologize, Julia. I actually feel sorry for you—that you would give up a second chance at our love just because of fear. I have never known you to be a coward, but people do change. I know I have.” He looked over the ocean again, and she left him. Left him to pack, left him to go back to her predictably unpredictable life of long hours at the emergency department and long hours alone at home.

Maybe that would sound better once she got back into her usual routine. And once again, she would never drive to the Azorean enclave south of Boston. Because the locals there would wonder why the sight of Portuguese pastries and smoked sausage made the American girl cry her eyes out.

BENEDITO HUNG UP THE PHONE in the main kitchen of the estate of Santas Aguas, his lovely wife Leonor chopping vegetables for dinner.

“Well?” She selected a potato and diced it like a machine. Leonor with a knife was slightly frightening, but Benedito knew how to keep on her good side.

“The duke has royally messed up.”

She snorted. “He let that girl get away from him?”

“Again.” Benedito nodded. “And he wants me on the next flight to São Miguel to help him finish the renovations.”

Leonor pointed the wicked-looking blade at him. “That boy will never marry anyone but that American girl. And he will never marry her unless he sees her again. Don’t you want little Duartes running around the estate? Putting them on their first ponies, teaching them about the long, proud traditions of our land and our people?”

“Of course, woman!” he barked. “I did my best to bring them together this last time, but now the Duke will throw himself into this renovation, and then it will be time for Stefania’s wedding. He will be in Italy, for goodness’ sake.”

Leonor stopped slicing, her gaze faraway. “The wedding. Invite her to the wedding.”

“But I don’t have the power to do that.” He spread his hands wide. “You and I are going, but we can’t take her as a guest.”

“Not us, idiota. Call little Stefania. She will do anything to make Franco happy.”

“Ah.” A wide grin spread over his face. “Meu bem, you are a genius.” Making sure the knife was set down, he threw his arms around his wife and kissed her. “As always, you know exactly what to do.” He lowered one hand to her ample bottom and gave her a pinch.

She squealed, but all that did was press her delightfully full bosom against his chest. He wiggled his brows. “Hurry up with that chopping. As soon as I get off the phone, I will show you my appreciation.”

“Oh, you.” She shoved him away, but her face was flushed. Benedito cackled and found the battered phone book with Stefania’s private number and dialed. First, the phone call. And if dinner was a little late, too bad. He had to make the most of his time with his voluptuous wife before answering the ducal command to return to the Azores.

13

“JULIA, YOU HAVE MAIL.” A peculiar tone in her mother’s voice made her get up from the couch where she was pretending to read an old mystery novel she’d found in the island’s English bookstore. No more romances for her, novel or otherwise.

It had been two weeks since she had seen Frank. Julia had returned to her parents’ apartment in São Miguel, and they had very kindly not barraged her with questions about what she’d been up to while they were gone. The neighbors had surely filled them in. She’d caught her parents giving her concerned looks, but she’d been careful to cry quietly at night or to just let the tears run down her cheeks while in the shower.

Frank was back at his fazenda on the mainland. She missed him terribly. He hadn’t told her he was leaving. A much-improved Senhor de