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Her Unforgettable Royal Lover(62)

By:Merline Lovelace


“Yes!”

* * *

As if that weren’t enough to keep Natalie dancing on a cloud and completely delight his sister, Sarah and the duchess, Gina and her husband arrived with the twins the next afternoon.

They were house hunting, they informed the assembled family. Jack’s appointment as US Ambassador to the UN still needed to be confirmed by the Senate but the chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee had assured him the vote was purely pro forma.

“How wonderful!” Her eyes bright with tears of joy, the duchess thumped her cane and decreed this called for a toast. “Dominic, will you and Jack pour pálinka for us all?”

Charlotte’s heart swelled with pride as she watched her tall, gold-haired grandson-in-law and darkly handsome young relative move to the sideboard and line up an array of Bohemian cut-crystal snifters. Her gaze roamed the sitting room, lingering on her beautiful granddaughters and the just-crawling twins tended by a radiant Natalie and a laughing, if somewhat tired-looking, Zia. When Maria joined them with a tray of cheese and olives, the only one missing was Dev.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jack said quietly as he and Dom stood shoulder to shoulder, filling delicate crystal aperitif glasses with the potent apricot brandy. “Now that your face has been splashed across half the front pages of Europe, your days as an undercover operative must be numbered.”

Dom’s mouth twisted. “My boss agrees. He’s been trying to convince me to take over management of the organized-­crimes division at Interpol Headquarters.”

“A desk job in Lyon couldn’t be all that bad, but why not put all this hoopla about your title and involvement in the recovery of millions of dollars in stolen art to good use?” Jack’s blue eyes held his. “My soon-to-be boss at the UN thinks the Grand Duke of Karlenburgh would make a helluva cultural attaché. He and his lovely wife would be accepted everywhere, have access to top-level social circles—and information.”

Dom’s pulse kicked. He’d already decided to take the promotion and settle in Lyon. He couldn’t subject Natalie to the uncertainties and dangers associated with his current occupation. But deep inside he’d been dreading the monotony of a nine-to-five job.

“Cultural attaché?” he murmured. “What exactly would that involve?”

“Whatever you wanted it to. And you’d be based here in New York, surrounded by family. Which may not always be such a good thing,” Jack added drily when one of his daughters grabbed a fistful of her sister’s hair and gleefully yanked.

“No,” Dom countered, watching Natalie scoop the howling twin into her arms to nuzzle and kiss and coo her back to smiles. “Family is a very good thing. Especially for someone who’s never had one. Tell your soon-to-be boss that the Grand Duke of Karlenburgh would be honored to accept the position of cultural attaché.”

* * *

Yesterday was one of the most memorable days in my long and incredibly rich life. They were all here, my ever-increasing family. Sarah and Dev. Gina and Jack and the twins. Dominic and Natalie. Zia, Maria, even Jerome, our vigilant doorman who insisted on escorting the Brink’s couriers up to my apartment. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried when they uncrated the painting.

The Canaletto my husband gave me so long ago now hangs on my bedroom wall. It’s the last thing I see before I fall asleep, the first thing I see when I wake. And, oh, the memories that drift in on gossamer wings between darkness and dawn! Dominic wants to take me back to Hungary for a visit. As Natalie and Sarah delve deeper into our family’s history, they add their voice to his. I’ve said I’ll return if Dom will agree to let me formally invest him with the title of Grand Duke at the black-tie affair Gina is so eager to arrange.

Then we’ll settle in until Zia finishes her residency. She works herself to the bone, poor darling. If Maria and I didn’t force her to eat and snatch at least a few hours’ rest, she’d drop where she stands. Something more than determination to complete the residency drives her. Something she won’t speak about, even to me. I tell myself to be patient. To wait until she’s ready to share the secret she hides behind her seductive smile and stunning beauty. Whatever it is, she knows I’ll stand with her. We are, after all, St. Sebastians.