Читать книгу Commander's Little Surprise - Mollie Molay - Страница 12

Eighteen Months Later

Victoria Esterhazy Bernard stood on the balcony overlooking the gardens of the new Baronovian embassy in Washington, D.C. Dusk had fallen; the bright lights around the perimeter of the embassy grounds had yet to come on. The scene, reminding her of the palace gardens in Baronovia, only added to her uneasiness.

Newly arrived in D.C. after a year spent with her husband in his diplomatic post in England, she was filled with pain, longing and loneliness at his unexpected demise in an automobile accident. The time in London hadn’t brought her the happiness in her marriage she had hoped for. The only bright light in her life was her baby daughter, Caroline.

She glanced at the card inviting her to her cousin’s housewarming one more time. If ever there was an invitation to disaster, this had to be it, she thought sadly. What if she accepted the invitation and ran into the man with whom she’d shared that forbidden night in the garden almost two years ago? Even now she knew nothing about him other than that he’d been an American and a friend of the groom.

What she did know was that as the widow of Baronovia’s ambassador to the United States and her appointment to the position herself, she couldn’t afford to be involved in a scandal. Especially when the suspicious circumstance surrounding her husband’s death remained unexplained. She sighed and handed the card to her long-time friend and companion, Lydia Monsour.

Lydia read the engraved invitation. “At last,” she said slowly. “If your cousin’s American friends are invited, you will be able to solve the mystery that has plagued you. You might find Caroline’s father.”

Victoria wandered around the room, listlessly picking up and discarding her hairbrush, her comb. “What good would it do? I’m a widow now with a diplomatic position to uphold.”

“At least you would know the man’s name.”

Victoria shook her head. “It would only cause more heartache. Rolande was my husband and therefore my baby’s father.”

Lydia clucked sympathetically as she handed back the invitation. “You’ve been hiding in the embassy since we arrived here. Go. Your cousin May will be unhappy if you don’t show up.”

“I hesitate to go to the party so soon after Rolande’s death.”

Lydia paused and peered over her glasses. “If you keep a low profile, everything should be fine. Unless you’ve forgotten your phantom. Have you?”

Victoria shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but inwardly she knew she still cared for the man. How could she forget the man who had taught her what it meant to be a woman? To fall in love.

How could she forget the bittersweet memories of the man who had changed her life forever?

“Go, my dear,” Lydia said quietly. “You will never know peace until you do.”

Victoria reached for the large quilted bag that had become part of her wardrobe. “He didn’t try to find me in Baronovia, why would he care to see me now? Besides,” she said with a shiver, “what if he doesn’t want to remember me? What if our night together never meant anything to him?”

“He didn’t find you because once your father told you he’d arranged your marriage, you didn’t want to be found,” Lydia reminded her. “Once you see the man again, you can close the book on the past.”

“I can’t, Lydia. It would only break my heart.”

“So you still care for this man?”

Victoria smiled sadly. “More than you’ll ever know,” she said softly, as if to herself. “But the fact remains, that whoever he was then, or whoever he is now, he is forever out of my reach.”

WHEN Lieutenant Commander Dan O’Hara entered the headquarters of the U.S. Navy Judge Advocate General Corps, it was abuzz with excitement over a newspaper account of the upcoming party that had been pinned to the office bulletin board. It wasn’t every day a member of the JAG corps married a European duchess, he heard someone say. Or that he had brought her home to set up housekeeping in the United States.

Dan stopped to glance at the newspaper clipping. He had received an engraved invitation for the party. Wade and May Stevens had also invited the JAG and his staff to celebrate the purchase of their first home in the United States.

Lieutenant Lester Howard whistled as he glanced over O’Hara’s shoulder. “To tell you the truth, sir, I wouldn’t have bet a nickel the commander’s marriage would have lasted this long. After all, his wife is a duchess and Stevens was her bodyguard.”

The comment, uttered into a sudden silence, quickly drew an audience. To his dismay, a dozen pairs of eyes focused on Dan.

Dan shrugged. The Stevenses’ courtship had had its ups and downs in the early stages when Wade had been the duchess’s bodyguard. But judging from the look on their faces, things have never looked better. “Why not?”

“Heck, his wife is a duchess, that’s why. How’s she going to settle for living like the rest of us?”

“Maybe because Stevens saved her life,” Dan said dryly as he turned to go to his office.

“It’s just like a fairy tale,” Lieutenant Linda Kimball, the junior officer in charge of administrative affairs, said enviously. “You were the best man at their wedding, weren’t you, sir?”

“Right.” Dan took a last look at the invitation and headed for his office. Just remembering his stay in Baronovia and the woman he’d met at the Stevens wedding made his body warm and his heart ache. He might have come up empty when he’d tried to find her before he left, but forget her? Never.

“Wait up a minute, sir,” Howard called after him. “So what’s a real palace like?”

A barrage of questions filled the air.

Dan tried to focus on Howard’s question. He thought of the ornate guest room with its lush wine-colored velvet drapes, upholstered furniture to match and the lace curtains at the windows. There had been a bed large enough for a family of four to sleep in. And a portrait of a dour Baron ancestor that had looked down on him from over the large fireplace where a fire smoldered. As luxurious as the setting had been, he hadn’t been able to sleep.

A glance out the window had taken him outside to a woman he would never, in this lifetime, forget.

“Nice, but formal and a little intimidating,” he finally answered. “I couldn’t wait to get home where I can put my feet up and have a cold beer.”

“What’s the duchess like?” Linda Kimball asked wistfully. “Is she as beautiful as they say?”

“Let’s just say she’s not like the girl next door,” Dan said wryly. He waved off any more questions and backed into his office.

What continued to surprise him after all this time was that eighteen months later he still thought about the ethereal woman he’d encountered in the Baronovia palace gardens. He’d wondered on and off why he hadn’t been able to find her the next morning. Maybe, he thought as he stared into his blank computer screen, she had been just a dream.

A burst of laughter outside Dan’s open door distracted him. He glanced up in time to see a female junior officer being kissed under a giant spring of mistletoe left hanging after the recent office Christmas and New Year’s parties.

Cheered on by laughing bystanders, the kiss was lasting longer than Dan thought necessary. To make him really uncomfortable in his nostalgic state of mind, the kiss served to remind him of a night that, by all logic, he should have forgotten long ago.

He wasn’t a ladies’ man, but he hadn’t been a hermit, either. His mystery woman hadn’t been the only woman in his life, but she was the one he couldn’t forget.

There had been something so special about her that he had searched for her among the guests. On the chance she was a member of the bridal party, he looked for her during the wedding rehearsal and at the dinner that followed. To add to his frustration, the pomp and circumstance of the wedding had prevented him from actively searching for her. He couldn’t have exactly asked if anyone knew a woman of her description; young with long, auburn hair and a body that had been made to fit in his arms, could he?

“Commander?” A knock on the open door broke into Dan’s reverie.

It was Howard again. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but we were trying to decide what kind of gift would be appropriate for the commander’s housewarming. We figure it has to be something special for someone like the duchess.”

“Suit yourself. I’m planning on giving them a toaster.” He motioned for Howard to close the office door so he could get back to work.

Instead of opening the file on his desk, Dan decided it was time to get his mind off the past. He needed to map out his New Year’s resolutions and stick to them. And they didn’t include daydreaming about a woman who might not have been real. Who, if she had been real, hadn’t been interested in seeing him again.

With a last look through the glass door of his office at the celebration going on outside, Dan turned on his computer and drew up his first New Year’s resolution. After all, he told himself with a glance at the waiting file, it had to be smarter to plan for the future than to wait for his future to come to him. A methodical man by nature, he spent the next half hour drawing up a five-year plan.

Bottom line, he mused when he finally checked the printout of his plan and closed down his computer, he was in his thirtieth year and it was time to settle down. Ergo, he would marry when he turned thirty-five and have two children by the time he was forty—that is, if his wife were willing. At that age he would be old enough to choose a wife wisely. As for children, he assured himself as he mentally flexed his arm muscles, he would still be vigorous enough to play baseball without looking like a complete fool.

In retrospect, he should have known fate had a way of laughing at the plans of a mere mortal man.

TWO WEEKS LATER, Dan stood on the doorstep and admired the Stevenses’ new address. The redbrick house on the outskirts of D.C. had green-and-white shutters and showed its distinguished lineage.

Bushes flanking the green doorway were lit with ropes of tiny bright lights. A welcome sign hung over a large wreath of apples, pears and pinecones woven with red and green ribbons and giving off a tart, sharp scent. As he started up the steps, music and laughter drifted through the open windows.

Dan grinned and crossed his fingers. With both the duchess and Mike Wheeler’s wife, Charlie, present tonight, he hoped the evening would go without a mishap. Or if it didn’t, that he wouldn’t be asked to help clear it up. He’d already been chewed out by Admiral Crowley, the JAG, for getting involved with the duchess’s and Charlie Wheeler’s life-threatening problems. The memory of Crowley’s flashing eyes and hard language on both occasions still stung.

His friend Wade Stevens had eventually married his duchess, and Mike his free-spirited concierge, but Dan intended to stay clear of anyone even associated with Baronovia.

Relieved to find the door guarded against unwelcome visitors, he handed over his invitation and sauntered inside.

To the left of the entry hall was a room filled with guests. Waiters were circulating with trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne. To his right, a large room with a polished wooden floor had been cleared of furniture to make room for dancing couples. A string trio was playing in a corner.

“O’Hara! Over here.” Wade Stevens motioned Dan to join him. Dan nodded and made his way through the crowd.

Pretty as a picture in her short black cocktail dress with a single diamond hung on a slender gold chain at her throat, Wade’s petite royal wife held out her hand. “We are so happy to have you and all of our friends here to help us celebrate our good fortune. The night is wonderful, no?”

“Wonderful, yes,” Dan agreed, amused at the way her syntax still remained old-country. It was a habit that endeared the duchess to everyone who met her.

“I have someone I would like you to meet.” May smiled and looked over his shoulder. “My cousin Victoria. Have you met her?”

“Sorry. I’m afraid I wouldn’t recognize her if I did.”

“Are you sure you didn’t meet her at my wedding?”

Puzzled by May’s question when he’d already disclaimed recognizing her cousin, Dan turned back. “Not that I remember. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention when we were introduced.”

May smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “I’ll introduce you.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Dan said politely. Whatever the reason for May’s questions, he wasn’t particularly interested. “If you don’t mind, I could use a drink,” he said with a smile. “See you later.”

Dan made his way around the room to the bar and refreshment tables, stopping now and again to say hello to someone he knew. If he were lucky, he mused as he reached for a cold beer, May’s cousin Victoria wouldn’t show up. The last person he cared to meet was a member of the duchess’s family. May, at least, behaved like a normal woman, but most royals were a pain in the rear. Meeting this one would be a waste of time.

He was in the midst of choosing from an eye-catching tray of appetizers when May Stevens came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I’ve found her. Dan, I would like you to meet my cousin Victoria. Vicky, this is Dan O’Hara.”

Dan thanked the waiter and motioned the tray away. “Pleased to meet you,” he said as he turned around—then froze. One look into her blue-green eyes and a moment of déjà vu broadsided him. “I’m sorry…I know you, don’t I?”

To his surprise, she tensed and took back her extended hand. “I don’t think so.”

Dan looked to May for help. May shrugged and looked just as puzzled as he felt. He was on his own. “Perhaps we met at your cousin’s wedding last year?”

“Perhaps,” she answered, still tense.

Dan shook his head to clear the cobwebs that muddled his thoughts. He returned Victoria’s apprehensive gaze and felt his heart thud in his chest. The atmosphere surrounding them turned heavy. The sound of music and voices faded into the background.

This was a different time and a different place, he told himself. In her white silk dress and short, cropped blond hair, the woman gazing back at him looked familiar, but he wasn’t sure where and when they’d met.

He’d only met one woman before tonight who had had such an immediate effect on him. An exquisite woman with expressive eyes and a spirit that had caught at his heart the moment he’d glimpsed her from the palace window.

Was this the woman he’d met in the deep of night and made love to in Baronovia? And why was she so frightened?

He sure couldn’t ask her such intimate questions with her cousin watching them and surrounded by dozens of people.

He cleared his throat and tried to recall the image of his mystery woman on that magical night. She’d had flowing waist-length auburn hair, so soft it had slipped through his fingers like silk. May’s cousin had blond hair and it was cropped short in the irregular lengths so popular today.

As for her figure, his mystery woman had been so slender he’d been able to span her waist with two hands. Tonight’s woman not only had fuller breasts, there were subtle differences in the rest of her body. If it were possible, she looked more womanly and more attractive than the woman he remembered.

“No, sorry. I guess not,” he finally answered when the silence grew too long to be comfortable. “If we’d met before this, I’m sure we both would have remembered it.

As he spoke, he noticed an expression of relief cross her features. But not before he also caught a passing flash of regret.

Whatever was going on inside her, this Victoria’s stiff body language didn’t compute.

He recalled an announcement he’d heard last year at May’s wedding. If this was the same cousin, she’d been engaged to a future Baronovian ambassador. If the memory was true, and even if this was the same woman, she was untouchable.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry. It was damn hard to let go of the memory of his mystery woman.

“Something to drink?” he said when May smiled and drifted away, leaving her cousin behind. Even though he and Victoria were alone now, there was no way was he going down the prickly path of asking her if she had been the woman he’d held in his arms and made passionate love to one night long ago.

“No, thank you,” she answered softly. “I don’t drink anymore.”

Anymore? Dan glanced at his companion. If there was ever a word that called for a question and an answer, anymore was it. He started to speak, but there was something about the way her clear eyes regarded him that kept him from asking. His turn to find out more about her would surely come before the night was over. “How about a Perrier and maybe something to nibble on?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Dan thought of his companion as he made his way to the bar. There was something odd about the way she kept avoiding looking at him. He’d be damned if he could pass up the opportunity to find out if she was his mystery woman without at least trying. He couldn’t come right out and ask her, but there was one way he could discover the truth.

“Care to dance?” he asked after she’d silently sipped the drink he brought her. “Unless you’ve given up dancing, too?”

She hesitated. “No. I love to dance. I’m just not in the mood.”

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Just one dance?”

“Just one,” she answered. “Then I have to leave.”

Dan put their drinks on a tray held by a passing waiter, put his hand under her elbow and led her across the hall to the dance floor.

The answers to his question were going to add up without him even asking.

He knew she’d been at the palace the night before Wade Stevens had married his duchess.

She’d admitted to loving to dance.

The first time he’d laid eyes on his mystery woman, she’d been dancing her heart out.

Those clues had to mean something, Dan thought as he took her in his arms. At the same time, he couldn’t help wondering why she looked as if she wanted to run.

Their encounter that night in the palace gardens had been a natural encounter between a man and a woman. She’d been a woman so beautiful, he’d gone down to her to see if she were real. When he’d taken her in his arms, felt her vibrant body and tasted lips as sweet as honey, he’d been lost.

He’d been attracted to that woman, and he was attracted to this one. As he held her in his arms, all his senses told him the woman he remembered was the same woman he was holding in his arms tonight.

If this Victoria did turn out to be her, he silently vowed, he’d take it from there. If not, one dance to be polite, an apology, and he’d find a way to be out of here.

He gazed in wonder at Victoria’s blond hair and tried to envision her as a brunette. Outside of the difference in hair coloring and her more womanly figure, she had to be the same woman.

Maybe his mystery woman had a double.

Maybe…then again, he wondered, how could he account for the same, familiar faint scent of gardenias that clung to the woman in his arms?