The Expectant Princess. Stella Bagwell

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      Chapter Two

      “Do you think that’s a wise decision? Not going back to the university right away?” Marcus asked.

      A wan smile tilted Dominique’s lips. “I’ve been known to make unwise choices before. You know me, I never had the level head my sister Isabel possesses. Nor Nicholas’s intelligence. But even if this thing with father wasn’t happening, I need some time off. To rest.”

      His smile held a hint of both censure and understanding. “I suppose you’ll get to that degree soon enough. And then you’ll be out in the world of high-powered business.”

      Because the pleasure was becoming too great, she slid her hand from his and reached for her coffee. After a thoughtful sip, she said, “I’ve changed the direction of my degree sometime back. I’m going into the field of education.”

      His eyebrows lifted. “Oh. I had the impression you wanted to be a financial adviser.”

      She grimaced. “I’ve decided it’s more important for a person to acquire an education. Without that, they won’t need a financial adviser.” Shrugging, she self-consciously glanced away from him. “Eventually I would like to form an education center here in Old Stan-bury. For needy students who can’t afford to attend private schools or expensive universities.”

      “That’s a lofty goal,” he said.

      Yes, she thought. And to achieve such a project she was going to need the backing of her family and country. But once her secret was out, Dominique wasn’t sure she would receive either. She would probably be lucky if her family didn’t choose to disown her completely. While she’d been away at her studies, she’d not behaved as a princess representing her country. But, dear heaven, she was only human, she reasoned with herself. She was a young woman with needs just like thousands of other women in Edenbourg.

      Her fidgeting fingers on the cup handle didn’t go unnoticed by Marcus. In fact, it amazed him that everything about her caught his attention.

      In the open light of the fresh morning, her skin looked like rich cream and pale roses. Her brown hair was threaded with streaks of gold and sunlight. This morning the mass was unconfined, the waves tumbling about her face and shoulders like a wild waterfall.

      Before Marcus realized where his thinking was headed, he was suddenly wondering what it would be like to run his hands through the thick brown tresses, to skim the pads of his fingers over the smooth skin of her face, her throat and down the shadowy cleavage between her breasts.

      Dear Lord, he must be drunk from lack of sleep and too much work, he reasoned with himself. There was no other reason for him to be thinking such lustful thoughts about his king’s daughter. Especially now that King Michael was missing and presumed dead.

      Across the table Dominique was feeling a bit disturbed by Marcus’s close scrutiny. It wasn’t like him to look at her so intensely. And though she knew it was a crazy notion, she wondered if the man was finally seeing her as a woman. Not as the teenager he used to know.

      The whole idea heated Dominique’s cheeks and forced her to rise to her feet and put a measurable space between them.

      Walking to the edge of the balcony, she leaned against the thick balustrade. From this high point, Old Stanbury, the capital city of Edenbourg, lay far below. Its network of winding narrow streets were nestled against green hillsides and lined with shops, boutiques and quaint cottages built centuries before the ravages of World War II had threatened this small island country.

      Far to the west, between a break in the mountains, was a sparkling glimpse of blue-gray sea, while directly below were the palace grounds, where slopes of grassy lawns were dotted with huge shade trees and patterned with hedgerows. In another month, tea roses would be blooming thickly in the carefully tended gardens. A beautiful time for a wedding. But that part of Dominique’s dreams were over.

      She was trying to fight off those bitter thoughts when Marcus came to stand beside her. With a rueful smile, she looked over at him.

      “I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m not very good company this morning.”

      The smile he cast her was regretful. “I’m not here to be entertained, Dominique. In fact, I think I should be the one apologizing for starting your day out on such a bad note.”

      She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “No. Please don’t apologize. I want you to keep me abreast of what’s happening with the investigation.”

      He nodded soberly. “Perhaps we’ll hear something soon.”

      As she studied his somber face, it suddenly dawned on her that her father’s disappearance was bound to be tearing at him just as much as it was her. Marcus had spent many years serving his country and, most of all, his king. He had become her father’s right-hand man, a close friend and confidant to Michael Stanbury.

      The need to comfort him overshadowed her intentions to remain distant. She reached for his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “I know you must be hurting over all this, too, Marcus. You love Father very much.”

      “Yes,” he said flatly. “It’s not the same without him.”

      “No. But then our lives never really stay the same, even when we want them to.”

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