Chapter 4
No one here knew who he was. When was the last time he’d been able to go anywhere or do anything without being at the center of attention?
Max stepped up to the door of his cabin after the past several hours touring the ranch with Emberly then halted with one hand on the doorknob.
The freedom to be himself was incredible. Especially with Emberly.
The low light on the porch broke through the darkness of the evening and cast a glow over her where she stood at the bottom of the steps, bundled in her parka, her cheeks rosy, the tip of her nose a becoming pink, and her eyes bright.
“Dinner in Cliffside Dining Room at seven o’clock,” she said again, taking a step back.
She’d been fantastic all afternoon, taking him around the ranch, giving him the history, showing him where all of the activities were located, hiking past the houses and cabins, visiting the barn and corral, introducing him to the horses, having coffee in the Brook Barn regardless of it being closed, showing him the waterfall from the balcony of the Cliffside Dining Room, even skirting past her family’s home on the way back to his cabin.
He hadn’t pressured her to take him inside, although he’d been tempted to ask her to introduce him to her family.
Emberly gave him a final nod. “I’ll see you in the morning after your meetings.”
In the morning? A strange disappointment wove through Max’s chest. “You will not be at dinner?”
She’d started to turn but halted. “You’re supposed to dine with the other members of your group tonight. We’ve prepared the banquet room for you. You’ll have plenty of privacy, and I guarantee you’ll enjoy the food and the view.”
He didn’t care about food or the view. He didn’t care about dining with the other members, even though he had work to discuss. So what did he want? What was the disappointment about? Was it because he wasn’t ready for his time with Emberly to come to an end?
During the time with her, he’d been able to push aside all the concerns of his life.
Somehow, the stress had gradually fallen away.
The worries about his future had faded in importance.
Once he was alone again, all of that would come rushing back, even if he buried himself in work.
And he didn’t want it back. At least, not yet.
“I would prefer to have dinner in my cottage.” Once he spoke, a plan began to take shape. “Is it possible to have the meal delivered here?”
“Of course. That’s easy enough.”
“Good. Please have four delivered. One for myself, Braun, Winzig, and you.”
She opened her mouth to respond but then immediately closed it and frowned.
“Is that a problem? If so, I shall have Braun and Winzig go pick up the food.”
She crossed her arms, still frowning. “The delivery isn’t the problem, Max.”
“Oh?”
“You can’t assume I’m available to stay for dinner.”
“Are you otherwise occupied?”
“No, but that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is that I’m not like Braun and Winzig. You can’t dictate what I do. You need to ask me first.”
“I see.” She was right. He hadn’t asked her and had instead simply expected her to do so, whether she wanted to or not. Maybe she was tired of him. Maybe she needed time to herself.
Had he always been so callous? He certainly had never considered Braun’s or Winzig’s needs. He had always presumed people would be willing to do whatever he suggested, mostly because no one had ever opposed him before.
“So you have no wish to dine with me tonight?” He didn’t really have the time and should tell her not to worry about it, that he needed to work. But he also knew he could work later, after dinner. Even with jet lag, he could force himself to stay up and get through the most important issues.
She tilted her head and studied his face. “I’m not saying I’m opposed to having dinner with you.” Her words were firm, but her eyes held a kindness that he liked. “What I am saying is that you need to ask. Nobody likes to be ordered.”
Was he too accustomed to ordering people around? Yes, apparently he was. “I apologize. I would very much appreciate your company tonight over dinner, if you would be so gracious as to grant it to me.”
She glanced down and seemed to be biting back a smile.
“Did I misspeak again?”
“No, you did beautifully.” Her smile blossomed. It was the first she’d given him since their meeting earlier in the day. Her elegant features lit up, her eyes widened, and her teeth gleamed. The smile only highlighted how lovely she was, and it nearly took his breath away.
He dragged in a lungful of the cool evening air, not sure why he was reacting so strongly to this woman’s smile, except that a part of him already knew that her smiles were rare, and he’d been the one to put it on her face. If he’d done it once, could he do it again?
Without giving him the chance to try—and likely make a fool of himself in the process—she turned and began to walk away. “I’ll be back for dinner.”
For a moment, he could only watch her, but then he found his voice. “I would like you to stay.”
She didn’t break her stride.
He’d done it again. Ordered her, or at least assumed she’d harken to his wishes. He mentally slapped himself, then rushed to correct his mistake. “Would you please come inside and perhaps join me for a drink until dinner arrives?”
She stopped and tossed him a sassy look. “That’s better, Max. You’re a quick learner.”
He couldn’t keep from smiling. “Thank you.”
“But no, I can’t stay.”
His delight fell away immediately, along with his smile. “Whyever not?”
She gave him a last look before continuing on her way. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
He wanted to say more, to ask her where she was going, what she was doing, who she was seeing. But the questions would be totally irrational and entirely out of line in this situation. Maybe even in all situations.
With a sigh, he watched her until she disappeared, then he entered the cabin and left the door open for Winzig, who had been waiting in the shadows of the porch.
At the table in the kitchenette, Braun had his monocular loupe in one eye and his stamp collection book spread out in front of him.
“Good evening, Your Highness,” Braun stated in German as he hovered above one of the stamps. “Would you like to wear the red tie or blue to dinner?”
“Neither, since I am not going.” Max shrugged out of his coat.
Braun immediately straightened in his chair, the single magnifier still in his eye socket. “You must. It’s on the schedule.”
“I have decided to dine in the cabin this evening.” Max tossed off his gloves as Winzig entered and closed the door.
Braun pushed back from the table, stood, and crossed toward Max, his face creasing with worry, even with the loupe in his eye. “Are you unwell, Your Highness?”
“I am completely fine.”
“I do not understand.”
Max bent to unlace his boots. He didn’t quite understand himself either.
The bank was his life. He ate, slept, and lived for the bank and always had, but more so over recent months.
When he wasn’t at his desk at the main branch in Vollenstadt, he was traveling to the ancillary banks in other cities and countries, meeting with investors and other executives.
Even on the long flight over from Europe, he’d worked most of the way and slept only a little. After they’d landed in Denver, he’d spent the ride into the mountains on one conference call after another.
He honestly hadn’t planned on spending the entire afternoon touring the ranch.
He’d expected to be gone an hour so that he’d have time to work until dinner.
But once he’d started hiking with Emberly, he’d stopped paying attention to his watch.
He also hadn’t cared that his phone had been vibrating in his pocket, accumulating messages to respond to in addition to everything else he needed to do.
He’d been too distracted by her and by the beauty of the land to let himself worry about anything.
Then she’d made a comment about being at the ranch that had struck a chord deep inside: A week here at the ranch could be just what you need to regain perspective.
What if she were right? What if he’d been using his work to escape from the increasing pressure of what to do about his future?
What if he simply needed to be here at the ranch to rest and relax?
Would it help him gain the perspective he needed for the monumental decision on whether to marry Sarah or abdicate the throne to Alex?
Braun stopped in front of Max and examined him through his single magnifying lens, as if that could somehow unravel the confusion.
Max kicked off his boot. “I would like to enjoy an evening off, Braun.”
“I am not opposed to it, Your Highness. I have repeatedly encouraged you not to work so hard. But . . .”
“But what?” Max slipped the other boot off and straightened.
Braun finally plucked the loupe from his eye. “But nothing, Your Highness. I am glad you intend to rest this evening.”
“Thank you, Braun.” Max started toward the stairway that led to the loft. “I should like to freshen up and change my garments before dinner arrives.”
Braun, in the process of hanging up Max’s coat, froze.
“What shall I wear?” Max asked. “Do I have anything else casual but nice?”
Braun didn’t respond.
“I like this sweater. Perhaps one similar.”
“’Tis the girl.” Braun’s voice rang out with conviction.
Max waved a hand, brushing aside Braun’s comment. “She is good company. That is all.” That was really all. He did not have time to become distracted by a pretty American woman on this trip. Not when his life was a speeding train that was hurtling toward his next birthday faster than the Eurostar.
“You like her,” Braun said even louder.