of ruffles at the hem, paired with black high heeled boots and a flowing purple muffler was the perfect look for an idle Sunday morning.
So maybe it wasn’t her clothes choice making her nervous at all. Maybe it was the fact her hot date was late.
Not that Michelle was off the hook. Amanda went through five outfits before deciding on the gray dress. Nothing had felt right. And that wasn’t like her, neither the indecisiveness nor the fussiness. She had a long, lean frame that clothes loved, and a sense of style drilled into her by a grandmother obsessed with decorum and good taste.
“Amanda.” The deep voice made her name a caress. She looked up and there stood Xavier silhouetted against the morning sun, his shoulders broad beams in an expensive suit.
“Xavier,” she breathed. Oh get a grip, girl. No man respects a pushover.
“Good morning.” He reached for her hand, bent over it before taking his seat.
It was Old World gestures like that that got to her. He got to her—his somberness offset by an edgy dangerousness. She had no doubt he was very good at his job.
But she prided herself on being mature, so it was time to act like it.
“Please forgive my tardiness. A last-minute call from home.”
“I understand. It must be hard to be away for months at a time.”
“Yes.” He waved over a waitress, ordered coffee and a Danish. “However, I am a soldier. And it is a prestigious assignment. I am honored to serve my country.”
“A soldier?” she asked. “I thought you were a security officer.”
“I am an officer of the Garde royale à la Couronne. As were my father and his father before him and so on, for six generations.”
“A personal guard to the crown—impressive. The exhibit is lovely.” She gestured to the newspaper she’d brought with her. “The preview is a great success. You must be proud to be trusted with your country’s treasures. Your Prince must have great faith in you.”
He was silent for a moment and she worried she might have insulted him. But then he leaned forward as he reached for her hand and played with her fingers.
“That is exactly so. Though many people have felt that it was a lowly assignment.”
“I can’t see you ever being given a lowly assignment.”
He smiled, this time with both his eyes and mouth. She felt he’d given her a special gift.
“A soldier does both the big and the small, because it is all necessary to complete the mission. Of all the generations in my family, I made Commandant at the youngest age.”
“And that’s an accomplishment?” she asked, though she could see it was.
“Yes. My father is proud of me, my grandfather a little upset.”
She laughed and pointed at him. “And you are happy with both reactions.”
He shrugged, but a small smile curved the corner of his mouth. “For six generations a son in my father’s line has joined the Republican Guard. My family is proud of the exemplary service they have provided to the crown. It is important I demonstrate great skills to honor the Prince’s faith in me, and my family before me.”
“Wow. But no pressure, right?” He spoke with pride, but there was something, an underlying tension she picked up on that made her wonder if there was more to his story. It prompted her to ask, “What would you do if you weren’t a soldier?”
His expression went blank. She actually felt the question stunned him. He shrugged. “An engineer, perhaps, because I have always liked knowing how things work. However, there was never any question of this. It is my duty and my privilege to serve the Prince.” He inclined his head again. “But I am a boring topic. We shall speak of you now. What is it you do, Amanda Carn?”
“I’m the assistant curator for the Children’s Museum of Art and Science.” She lifted her orange juice. “I just celebrated my first year anniversary.”
“Congratulations.” He touched his mug to her glass.
“A royal guard!” She exclaimed as a thought came to her. “That’s perfect. We’re doing career presentations at the museum all this month. Would you be willing to come and talk to the kids?”
He considered her for a moment. “When do you have these talks?”
“Tuesdays at four in the afternoon. Please say you’ll think about it.”
“I will look at my schedule.” He promised. “So you like children. Do you have any of your own?”
“No. But I’m an honorary aunt.” It thrilled her to say so. “Michelle, you met her last night, is marrying a man who has a child.”
“She is brave to take on a ready-made family.”
“Funny, I think she’s lucky.” And he’d hit on another of her fantasies, a big happy family. “I can tell you she’s very much in love.”
“Then she is, indeed, lucky.” He said it simply, sincerely. She liked that he didn’t jeer.
“Do you have children?” Turnabout was fair play.
“No. I have never been married.”
An interesting response. Was he just sharing information, or were children and marriage linked in his mind? “Do you feel one is a pre-requisite for the other?”
“In my family it always has been. Plus, Pasadonia is a small country. We are not as progressive as the United States.”
“Not everyone here is open-minded. I was raised by my grandparents. They’re not very progressive at all.”
“I understand. My mother would be disappointed in me if I did not treat a woman with respect in all things.”
“She sounds like a strong woman.” Amanda worked hard to keep the wistfulness from her voice. Her biggest regret in life was never knowing her mother. Her parents.
“She is tough. But she has a huge heart. She is the soul of our family.” He set his empty mug on the table. “Why were you raised by your grandparents?”
“They’re all the family I have. My mother died when I was just a baby.”
He watched her intently, his honey brown eyes focused completely on her. “I am sorry. You must miss her every day.”
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat at his simple understanding. Even though she’d never known her mother, Amanda did miss her every day.
“And what of your father? You have not mentioned him.”
She sighed. She hadn’t known him either, and yes she felt the hole he left in her life, but he was such a mystery that’s all she usually focused on. Except for those bitter, lonely minutes when she speculated he must be dead, too. Otherwise why
