Sasha eyed the man sprawled on the marble floor. Vladimir yelled for a bag of ice. “While I think it’s time for me to take a bloody holiday.”
The last person Zoe expected to see sitting in her living room was her mother-in-law. Well, with the way the woman sat, it was more like holding court. Zoe had the absurd notion to curtsy, but instead she gave Lady Francesca a small smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Even if you broke into my house to do it.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best way to start off, but the woman was waiting for her. She hadn’t been invited.
Zoe eyed the two men standing guard in her foyer. They each had an earpiece and wore sunglasses like a character straight of The Matrix or in the Mafia. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Or scarier.
Cornflower blue eyes raked her up and down, making Zoe wish she had on something different. Something without coins on the hem and not the bright shade of lime sherbet ice cream.
“You’re not what I expected.” Her voice was soft, modulated and very proper. Francesca Romanov dressed every inch the lady she was, making Zoe feel like what the cat dragged in.
Zoe picked at a sequin on her skirt. Two of the coins clinked together and her mother-in-law’s eyes widened.
“How lovely. Is that by Garvene?”
Who? “It’s by Target,” Zoe said, giving the “get” syllable the faux-French treatment.
A manicured hand patted pale blonde hair. “Oh, I haven’t heard of him. Is that a new designer?”
Zoe felt a sudden need to giggle. She wasn’t sure if the woman was making fun of her, or if this was like the time Christian told her he didn’t know what Cracker Barrel was. She hoped it was the latter, since she didn’t have any desire to be ticked off at his mom. Well, no more than she was already.
“Oh, it’s an American designer,” she said, then changed the subject. “Christian isn’t here. He’s at a bachelor party for Prince—”
“Damien,” Francesca said with a small nod. “Yes, I know where my sons are, but I came here to see you.”
Zoe sat down on the couch beside her and pulled a pillow into her lap. “I’m all ears.”
“I wanted to make sure Christian is happy and that the woman he picked to marry wasn’t, well, like me.”
“There’s no comparison between the two of us,” Zoe said, concentrating on the thread work on the decorative pillow.
Startled by the cool hand placed over hers, Zoe looked up at her mother-in-law.
“Christian’s always had a mind of his own and when he wants something, there’s no turning back. He’s was that way as a child. So determined, yet so caring.” Francesca’s face softened. “Did you know he used to compose a song for me every Mother’s Day?”
How could this woman have given up her children? “No, I didn’t. He doesn’t talk about that or you.”
A small laugh escaped Francesca. “I don’t imagine he does. You have to understand. I’m not allowed to have contact with him or Sebastian.”
“How is that possible?” Zoe asked. “You’re their mother and still married to their dad.”
“Technically, we’re separated, but if I don’t want the money to stop, then I can’t have any contact. However, Vladimir said nothing about seeing you.” Francesca looked very pleased at the notion of having outwitted her husband.
Anger rose inside of her chest, hot and fast. Was there no one in his family that loved him unconditionally? “You choose money over your children?”
“Unlike you, darling, I have no career skills. Oh, I can paint a lovely watercolor and even sing, but other than that I’m purely ornamental.” Francesca drew her hand back. “It was what I went to finishing school for. To be a rich man’s wife.”
“Are you serious? This is the twenty-first century. Women don’t do that anymore.”
“Really? What do you suppose Princess Catherine learned to do all that time Prince William was courting her? Or when they were planning the wedding of the century? Expanding her horizons? Buckling down on a career path?”
“They both went to St. Andrews and graduated together,” Zoe pointed out.
Francesca rose to her feet in one graceful moment. “Please tell Christian that I love and wish him the best.” She glided to the front door, pausing. “Take better care of him than I did. Perhaps when children come you’ll send me photos? I’ve left my card on the mantle, between the coyote and the wood sprite.”
“I’ll invite you to every birthday party and holiday,” Zoe said with a graciousness she didn’t remotely feel. The faster this woman left her house, the better.
“And I’ll politely decline, darling.” Another pause. “But do send them anyway.” Francesca sailed out of Zoe’s house and into the white Mercedes parked in the driveway.
Feeling very thankful for the parents she had, Zoe picked up the phone and called them.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Last night as Zoe talked to Christian, she’d been relieved when he hadn’t mentioned her run-in with the paparazzi. He’d sounded tired and their phone call hadn’t last that long at all. She was so ready for him to come home. According to the Holland sisters he would be here today, but he would have told her if he’d planned on cutting his trip short.
With a sigh, she began typing her next chapter.
Someone pounded on her door.
“Just a minute,” she yelled.
The pounding grew louder and longer.
Clicking on save, she rose from her desk with a huff. “Hold your horses.” Jogging to her little foyer, she opened the door and frowned. “What do you want?”
“If that wasn’t the dumbest thing I’d ever seen on T.V., I don’t know what is,” Luke said to Zoe.
“Maybe you need to watch your own show, Dr. LA. You’re in Miami.”
“Are you gonna let me in or what?” he asked. Actually, it sounded more like a demand to her.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, giving him her best don’t-mess-with-your-big-sister look. “Depends on how civil you can be.”
His dark brown eyes narrowed, then his face softened and he turned back into the brother she loved. “Sorry, Zoe. I want you to be happy, but I can’t stand him. He humiliated you in front of millions.”
“No, that skanky asshat of a reporter did that. You heard what was later reported. Those pictures were of Sebastian, his identical twin. You of all people should be able to understand how twins can be mistaken for the other.”
He glanced away, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know it. And I know that what looks like a duck, walks like a duck and does drugs is your sham of a husband’s brother trying to cover for him.”
Even though she knew the truth about the pictures, she wasn’t about to share it with Luke. And she didn’t know what had persuaded Sebastian to take the fall for her “sham” of a husband. But she was tired of their families making the man she loved into something he wasn’t.
“We’re staying married, and one day, I’ll have mini-Christians running all over the place. Are you going to refuse to be in your someday niece or nephew’s life?”
“You know just how to go for the gut, don’t you?” Luke asked.
“Look, as much as I love you, as much as I’m sure that you’re here with nothing but my best interest at heart, there’s nothing you can do or say to change me.”
“We’re not done talking.”
“Please don’t come around until you’re ready to support my decision. It’s what I’ve always done for you, even when I knew you were wrong.” Pushing the door completely shut, Zoe stared at it and nodded her head once.
She looked at the clock and began pacing. After thirty minutes of drawing a circle with her footprints around the couch, she decided to go to her office to finish writing the chapter she’d been working on before Luke’s interruption.
Smiling at the pictures that greeted her, she reached out to caress the closest black and white print. She scrunched her forehead, then looked at the other pictures for confirmation and gasped.
They were all the same. Okay, so not exactly identical, but in almost every one, her husband was looking at her. She took one down and held it close. The expression on his face took her breath away.
That settled it. They would go looking for the real Holland Springs. No matter the outcome, her feelings would stay the same. She loved him. Deeply, madly and truly. She didn’t care about his past, only their future. Together.
A noise coming from the front of the house jolted her out of her thoughts. She frowned, thinking that Luke had decided to really press her buttons.
Stomping to the foyer, she yanked the door open. “I thought I told you to—Christian!” She jumped in his arms, nearly knocking him over. Covering his face with kisses, she held on to him as he walked inside. “I missed you.”
“I.” Kiss. “Missed.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Too.” Christian put her down, cupping her beautiful face in his hands. This was the homecoming he had never realized he’d been missing. God, it felt good.
Her pretty eyes crinkled at the corner before she hugged him again. “Did you see me on television?”
Pulling away, he gave her a disapproving frown. “Your behavior, Ms. Ambrose, was very improper. I’m not sure if a right proper gent like myself can be seen with such a scandalous woman.”
“Whatever,” she laughed. “And it’s officially Mrs. Romanov now. I’ve got the papers to prove it.”
“You changed your last name?” He almost dropped to his knees. She was willingly taking on a name that he didn’t know for how long would cause doors to slam against her. Them.
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Let me see that ring, Mrs. Romanov.” He smiled and let her go, closing the door behind him. Then he dropped his bag onto the floor.
She wiggled her fingers at him, her laughter contagious. “How does it look?”
Taking her hand, he rubbed the antique ring. It was finally back where it belonged. “Perfect,” he said and kissed her again, drinking in her happiness.
When they broke apart, she led him over to the sofa and sat down in his lap. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be upset with me for speaking to that scummy reporter because I know you told me: ‘Do not to engage the enemy’, but I was sick and tired of everyone putting you down. Plus, he sat there the longest and Melanie was about to puke from watching him eat.”
Shaking his head at her version of humor, he held her hand while stroking the center of her palm. “Actually, I was angrier at the insults he tossed your way. It won’t be the last time someone does that or blogs about me, or you, but I’m too damn selfish to let you go.”
She leaned against him. “This is where I belong.” Pulling away, she laid her hand on the side of his face. Her dark eyes solemn. “I need you, Christian. Your smile, your laughter, your love, the way you tuck your PEZ dispensers in with my fairies. I trust you to stay. I trust you.”
“I know this is where I’m supposed to say something meaningful and emotional, but all I want to do is show you my appreciation.”
“My man of action.” Her smile was like a siren’s, stealing the air from his lungs.
Christian cupped her breasts, filling his hands with their heavy weight. He rubbed his thumbs over her fabric covered nipples and was rewarded with a hitch of her breath. Her eyes closed as her head fell back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. “I have many, many things planned for you, Mrs. Romanov.” He inched her shirt up. “Things so depraved that you won’t be able to look at me in the morning.”
The doorbell rang.
She growled. “We are so getting rid of that thing.”
He wanted to throw something at the damn thing first. Most likely it was her mother with some kind of casserole or her father “checking” on the progress the crew Christian had hired to finish the renovations of her house had made. Zoe’s family was nosy as hell, and he wouldn’t have them any other way. They genuinely cared about her and her happiness.
“We know you’re in there, Romanov. Open the door.”
“It’s Luke.” She let out a groan, scrambling from his lap. “Let me handle this.” She answered the door and all of her family came pouring in. Brothers, sister, sister-in-law and parents.
Good God, they had seen the video of Zoe and the reporter and were here to kill him.
“Prince Ian,” SmithAnn squealed, running over and plopping down in his lap. He gave her a little hug and moved her over so that he wouldn’t be speaking two octaves higher than usual.
Lawton placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder and pushed him forward. “Go on, speaker elect.”
Luke gave his father an annoyed look before facing Christian and Zoe again. “We’re here to tell you that we support Zoe’s decision.”
“Louder, son,” Lawton said.
“We support Zoe’s decision and want to welcome you the family.”
Christian suppressed the urge to laugh, mostly because he thought Luke might have a scalpel hidden on him. He set his niece to the side and rose to his feet, offering his brother-in-law his hand. “I appreciate it. Immensely.” When Luke took his hand and didn’t rip it off, a collective sigh left the group.
Evangeline cheered and SmithAnn danced around him.
Heath presented him with a knit scarf and hat. “The color really pops against a black or grey coat,” he said, then smirked. “I call the pattern Ball and Chain.”
