seconds before she turned on her low-heeled sandals and left the room. The limo would be waiting for her. Though she wanted to run, she forced herself to stay in control so she wouldn’t fall and do something to hurt herself.
The queen had put Abby on trial. No wonder Vincenzo’s wife had been frightened to approach her mother with such an unconventional idea. Only now was Abby beginning to understand how desperate and courageous Michelina had been to consider allowing a third party to enter into the most intimate aspect of all their lives. Facing the queen had to be one of the worst moments Abby had ever known.
But this had to be an even more nightmarish experience for Vincenzo. Here he was trying to deal with his wife’s death while at the same time having to defend the decision he and Michelina had made to use a surrogate. He had to be suffering guilt of his own.
Abby blamed no one for this, but she felt Vincenzo’s pain. How he was going to get through this latest crisis, she couldn’t imagine. Probably by working. That was how she planned to survive.
* * *
Twenty minutes later Abby entered the neoclassical building that housed her law firm and walked straight back to Carolena’s office. Her friend was a patent attorney and had become as close to Abby as a sister. Unfortunately she was at court, so they’d have to talk later.
Both Carolena and Abby had been hired by the well-known Arancian law firm after they’d graduated. Abby had been thrilled when they’d both been taken on a year ago. She had planned for this career from her junior-high days, and had been hired not only for her specialty in international trade law, but because she was conversant in French, English, Italian and Mentonasc.
Since the Mentonasc dialect—somewhere between Nicard and a dialect of Ligurian, a Gallo-Romance language spoken in Northern Italy—was currently spoken by about 10 percent of the population living in Arancia and its border areas, it gave her an edge over other applicants for the position, which required her particular linguistic expertise.
Abby’s parents had cleverly directed her studies from a very young age. Thanks to them her abilities had taken her to the head of the class. However, this morning Abby’s mind wasn’t on her latest cases.
She felt disturbed by the revelation that Michelina had kept her mother in the dark about one of the most important events in her life. Abby had done her research. Since the death of King Gregorio, Queen Bianca become the ruler of Gemelli and was known to be rigid and difficult. Abby had felt her disapproval and didn’t envy Vincenzo’s task of winning his mother-in-law over.
Hopefully something Abby had said would sink in and soften her heart. At the moment, Abby’s own heart was breaking for all of them.
* * *
Six hours later, Abby finished dictating some memos to Bernardo and left the building for the limo. But when she walked outside, she noticed the palace secret service cars had parked both in front of and behind the limo. One of the security men got out of the front and opened the rear door for her. What was going on?
As she climbed inside and saw who was sitting there waiting for her—in sunglasses and a silky claret-colored sport shirt and cream trousers—the blood started to hammer in her ears.
“Vincenzo—”
His name slipped out by accident, proving to her more and more that he filled her conscious and unconscious mind.
* * *
The tremor in Abby’s voice made its way to every cell of Vincenzo’s body. After she’d bared her soul to his mother-in-law that morning, he’d realized not only at what price she’d sacrificed herself to make their dreams of a baby a reality, but he’d been flooded with memories of that day when she’d lost her mother.
Abby had been a great swimmer and handled herself well in the sea. As some of his friends had pointed out years ago when they’d seen her in the water offshore, she wasn’t a woman yet, but she showed all the promise.
By the time she’d turned seventeen, he’d found himself looking at her a lot more than he should have. She was one of those natural-blond American girls with classic features, noted for their long, gorgeous legs. At that point in time Vincenzo had already been betrothed to Michelina. Since the marriage wouldn’t be for at least another ten years, he’d had the freedom to date the women who attracted him.
Abby had been too young, of course, but pleasing to the eye. She’d turned into a very beautiful girl who was studious, intelligent and spoke Italian like a native. He enjoyed every moment he spent with her; her enthusiasm for everything surprised and entertained him.
But even if he hadn’t been betrothed, Abby had been off-limits to Vincenzo for more reasons than her young age or the fact that she wasn’t a princess. Her parents had become close friends with Vincenzo’s parents. That was a special friendship that demanded total respect.
Though her periwinkle-blue eyes always seemed to smile at him with interest when they chanced upon each other, there was an invisible boundary between them she recognized, too. Neither of them ever crossed it until the day of the squall...
As Abby had told Queen Bianca earlier, she and her mother, Holly, had been out in a small sailboat off the coast when the storm struck. Nothing could come on as rapidly and give so little time for preparation as did a white squall.
Vincenzo had been in his father’s office before lunch discussing a duty he needed to carry out when they’d noticed the darkening sky. A cloudburst had descended, making the day feel like night. They hadn’t seen a storm this ferocious in years and felt sorry for anyone who’d been caught in it.
While they were commenting on the fierceness of the wind, a call came through informing the king that the Loretto sailboat was missing from its slip. Someone thought they had seen Signora Loretto and her daughter out sailing earlier, but they hadn’t come back in yet. Several boats were already out there looking for them.
Abby—
Vincenzo was aghast. She was out there?
The sweet girl who’d always been there for him was battling this storm with her mother, alone?
Fear like Vincenzo had never known before attacked his insides and he broke out in a cold sweat. “I’ve got to find them!”
“Wait, son! Let the coast guard deal with it!”
But he’d already reached the door and dashed from the room. Driven by fear, he raced through the palace. Once outside, he ran to the dock, where a group of men huddled. He grabbed one of them to come with him and they took off in his cruiser to face a churning sea.
The other man kept in radio contact with the rescue boats. Within a minute they heard that the sailboat had been spotted. Vincenzo headed toward the cited coordinates, oblivious to the elements.
The rescue boats were already on the scene as Vincenzo’s cruiser came close to the sailboat. It was tossing like a cork, but he couldn’t see anyone on board. “Have they already been rescued?”
“Signora Loretto was found floating unconscious in the water wearing her life preserver, but there’s no sign of her daughter yet,” replied his companion.
Vincenzo’s heart almost failed him.
Abby had drowned?
It
