His Forbidden Princess(23)

Feelings were a distraction they couldn’t afford.



“This is the most amazing place, Ian. It’s everything on one small island. Forests, beaches, resorts. Mansions and cottages. I can see why your family has made this their…what did you call it?”



“We call it the Homestead.” He glanced at her face, and enjoyed the bright smile and the sparkle in her eyes. Scrubbed clean of its heavy makeup, her natural beauty was breathtaking.

That was the girl he knew in school. One who favored old Levis to designer clothes, who almost never wore high heels.



“Why is it called that?”



“It’s home base. Like I told you, it’s been in the family a long time. If there’s an event, a holiday, anything, it’s the place we gather. Sometimes I come here when I know no one else is going to be around to do nothing except read and listen to the shore birds and the surf. It’s a great place to decompress.”



“Our chalet is like that. It’s so beautiful, no matter what the season. I prefer it to the palace. It’s smaller, more personal. My brother, sister, and I loved going on holidays there. It’s on a lake…” Her voice broke, betraying the strain on her emotions before she finished her thought.



“Tell me more about the chalet.” He could see she was thinking about her siblings—one who had been killed by the terrorists and one who was still injured—and while he knew talking about what was obviously a special place to them was going to bring back memories, it might help her focus on pleasant ones.



“It’s in the mountains. Umm…as I said, it’s smaller and more intimate than the palace in the city. It has large windows and terraces with views of Lake Effie and nothing but nature for as far as you can see. You’d love it there. It’s exactly what you said about your family’s house.

It’s a place to decompress. To get away from the real world.”



“What did you do when you were there?”



“In the winter we could ski or go snowmobiling. Sometimes we went tobogganing. If the lake was frozen enough, Papa would let us ice skate. But my mother was too nervous one of us would fall through, so skating was usually out.”



“Sounds great.”



“It was just fun. We had such a good time. There was usually only a minimal staff with us, and my parents made a point to stay away from work when we were there. It was nice to spend time as a family. We’d cook and do some chores and get to feel like kids. Not heirs. Not royals.”



“There had to be protection.” He couldn’t imagine them going to an isolated cabin

without security.



“There were always one or two people in the house, but they had their own space. And the grounds were well guarded, but we never saw anyone. The rule was to keep a low profile. It was nice.”



Her voice let him know her nerves had settled. “The great room was huge, paneled with wood, and had large comfortable furniture. You know, the kind you just sink into? We’d spend our nights there in the winter making popcorn in the fireplace and playing card games. My sister would sometimes draw. I always liked reading if I had nothing to do. It’s funny, I was never bored there. In the summer we’d swim in the lake as long as we were allowed, and then stay out in the garden toasting marshmallows and singing songs. We’d hunt…how do you

say… firebugs? ”



“Lightning bugs…or fireflies. Me too. I’d catch them and my grandmother would always have a jar with holes poked in the top. She’d let me keep the jar in my room at night. It was the most amazing light show. And then the next day…”



“…you’d let them go.” Sofie smiled. God, was she gorgeous when she smiled. “I did the same. It sounds as though our childhoods were not so different after all.” Then she smiled.

Maybe it was at the memory, or maybe from the understanding that she was more normal than she ever thought. Ian had to admire her parents. They did their best to make sure their children had experiences similar to other children. Even one who was thousands of miles away.



“If I learned anything from my work and being in the military is that people are just people. Whatever their status, when you break it down, we’re more alike than different.”



“Spoken like an American.” She touched his arm reassuringly. “I mean no disrespect by that. In fact, I wish everyone thought that way. But status, as you call it, still rules how people live and behave in other parts of the world. That doesn’t mean populations are oppressed, but it’s different. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a pedestal, and I can’t imagine why anyone would put me there. I’m not special.”