Chapter 3
"Leave us," he ordered curtly. The maid bobbed a swift curtsy before hurrying out of the room and closing the doors behind her.
Sofia recapped the lipstick carefully before gazing at him in the vanity mirror. She had expected a visit after the irate call he had made while she was on her way home.
"Hi, darling." Determined to keep her calm, she eyed him as he started pacing the length of her dressing room.
"She has to go."
"I'm assuming you're referring to Senorita Carter."
"You know bloody well--" He reined in his temper at the lift of her elegant brow. "I already told you what she did. I know it's too late to put her on a plane tonight, but first thing in the morning--"
"No."
He stopped his pacing and stared at her in the mirror, an incredulous expression on his handsome face.
"What do you mean, no? She was unforgivably rude to me."
"She did not curtsy."
"It was more than that. She was rude and disrespectful, and she walked out in the middle of a conversation I was having with her."
"What about you?"
"What about me? What on earth are you talking about?"
"What did you say to her?"
His eyes flashed fire. It was interesting to realize that her usually calm and controlled son was practically vibrating with anger. And after just one encounter with the newcomer.
"That does not matter. I'm still Prince Tomas. We cannot have this woman coming from where she's coming from and having the rest of the staff thinking they can bloody well talk to us any way they please. I want her gone, Mother."
"The answer is still no." She rose gracefully, wrapping the rose pink silk gown around her trim figure. "Now, we will discuss this at a later date as I'm running late for supper. Will you be joining us?"
He simply stood there and stared at her, nonplussed. "You're not taking my side on this?"
"Until Senorita Carter proves to me that she is incapable of doing the job, she stays. You're going to have to find a way to get along--"
"I will do no such thing." He straightened to his full height, his face a cold and icy mask. "And I won't be joining you for supper." With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the doors behind him.
Standing in the middle of her closet, she selected silk lounge pants and a matching sweater, taking them with her to her room.
He had dismissed her maid when he came in, and she did not have the energy to call her back in.
Setting her outfit on the bed, she sat back down with a sigh.
She knew her son. Tomas was as rigidly stubborn as she was, and would no doubt consider this as her not standing up for him.
He was spoiled, that blame could be laid at her feet.
She loved him from the moment the physician had placed the beautiful baby in her arms. He was the only good thing that had come from her disaster of a marriage to a man she had fallen head over heels in love with.
She had been chosen for the union. Her family had money and it had been a strategic move to bring the two of them together.
But she had fallen in love and thought she could change him.
It had been a futile effort, one that had continued to pain her for years.
She had remained faithful to him and would have wanted more children, but he had told her bluntly that since they had produced an heir, there was no need to try again.
So, she had lavished her unrequited love on her son and spoiled him rotten.
Sighing softly, she shrugged out of her robe and got dressed.
*****
She was escorted to the 'informal dining room' by Carmen, who had come up to inform her that there was no need to dress up.
"Just a nice dress or pants and a sweater. It's just you and the queen. Prince Tomas has gone out for the evening."
That had been a relief to her as she was not looking forward to another encounter with his royal arrogance.
The dining room was large but cozy, with a fire simmering in the massive hearth.
An oval table was set with a stiff white linen tablecloth.
Chandeliers dripped from the concave ceiling, the fire reflecting in the drops of crystals.
A lovely bouquet of flowers stood in the center of the table.
The queen, with her hair brushed back into a neat chignon, rose from a throne-like chair and gestured her forward, a smile warming her very lovely face.
"I hope I'm not tardy," Antoinette said by way of an apology. "I found myself stopping every few minutes to admire the artworks on the walls. You have a lovely home."
Queen Sofia gave her a pleased smile as she held out both hands. "Welcome to it." She squeezed Antoinette's hands before letting go. "And I was early. I always enjoy a pre-dinner drink before I eat. I hope you'll join me."
"Of course. I will have what you're having."
The woman nodded towards the hovering maid.
"Sit, please. I hope you had time to take a nap. I know the journey had to be taxing."
Antoinette selected a silk-covered, curved-back chair and sighed as it enveloped her frame. She had decided on black dress pants and a champagne-colored cashmere sweater and left her hair loose.
"I enjoyed the trip, especially when I landed. This place was well named. Thanks." She accepted the glass of wine from the maid and took a sip.
Queen Sofia laughed softly as the young woman's eyes widened in pleasure.
"What do you think?"
"It's..." Antoinette took another sip and savored the taste on her tongue. "It's like sipping liquid gold. It tastes wonderful. Not too sweet and certainly not dry. Just perfect."
"Perez Sunset." The queen took a sip of her own and nodded. "And you should be the one writing the ad for this vintage. It's something new. We've been fine-tuning it for several years now and we feel it's just right."
"It certainly is," Antoinette agreed, taking another sip.
"I heard you had an altercation with my son."
Antoinette jolted, wondering if this was where she was going to be told that her services were no longer needed. But instead of censure, there was an amused expression on the woman's face.
"I'm afraid so." She set the wine aside and stared at the woman squarely. "I suppose we got on the wrong side of each other."
"He wants me to fire you."
Antoinette's eyes flashed. "I see. And will you?"
The woman laughed softly, eyes glimmering with mirth. "I told him no and he slammed out of my room with fire in his eyes. My son is entitled." She sipped her wine musingly. "He's also well known for his mild behavior. Nothing much nettles him, except you, something I find very interesting."
"I get the feeling he does not think very highly of Americans," Antoinette said dryly.
"He doesn't."
"Which leaves me to wonder why I was hired."
"Your qualifications were excellent and I don't happen to share his opinion regarding your country.
I told him I will have to form my own opinion of you.
" Sofia eyed the young woman thoughtfully and realized the photo did not do her justice.
She had a flawless cocoa brown complexion and an exotic-looking face, with all that gleaming hair tumbling down her back.
And she wore her clothes well, for someone her size.
"So, I'm still hired?"
"You most certainly are."
"I can always apologize--"
"Please don't," Sofia said quickly. "I think it's time my son learns that he can't get everything he wants. Shall we move towards the table?"
*****
"You're not in the best of moods," Gabriella pouted as he continued to sip his wine and stare over the hilly terrain in silence.
Stirring himself, Prince Tomas offered a forced smile and tried to dispel the gloom that had settled inside his chest since he met that woman this afternoon.
The argument with his mother had only made things decidedly worse.
He was not good company, but he was bloody well not going to go home and chance running into either of them.
His mother had betrayed him, and he would not soon forgive her for it.
"I have a lot of things on my mind."
"I know what to do to get rid of them." Abandoning her seat, she crossed the balcony and perched on the arm of his chair.
Her perfume was provocative and she had dressed with the idea of seducing him.
The black silk dress had a plunging neckline that clearly revealed her generous alabaster bosom.
She had left her raven black hair loose from a side part on the left, the color a startling contrast to her smooth skin.
He should be highly turned on by now, but to his disgust and frustration, he felt nothing but mild interest.
Another thing to blame that awful woman for.
"I was thinking we should retire to the bedroom," she purred, snapping him out of his dark mood.
"Why don't we finish this excellent wine and see what happens?" he suggested.
Before he could move away, she slid onto his lap, arms twining around his neck, her lush pink lips lifting to his.
In desperation to salvage the evening, he crushed his mouth to hers. When she responded eagerly, he deepened the kiss, hands stroking her back and arms.
He felt a faint stirring of desire, but it wasn't enough to make him want to accept her invitation. He was too deeply entrenched in his misery and anger to even be interested, and it was pissing him off.
Dragging his mouth from hers, he lifted her off his lap and rose.
"I apologize," he told her abruptly, trying not to notice the wounded look on her lovely face. "I really am not good company right now. I have to go."
"But--"
"I'm sorry." Grabbing his jacket, he all but fled.
Damn and blast that woman to hell and back! he thought furiously as he whipped the red convertible around the narrow road. He was going to find a way to get rid of her, if it was the last thing he did!
*****