At His Majesty's Convenience (2 page)

Carina Teitelhaus shot him a loaded glance from across the table. Her father owned a large factory complex with a lot of potential for expansion. And she didn't hesitate to remind him of that.

Ruthenia's noblewomen were becoming increasingly aggressive in pursuing the role of queen. Lately he felt as if he were juggling a bevy of flaming torches and the work of keeping them all in the air was wearing on his nerves.
He'd committed to choosing a bride before Independence Day next week. At the time he'd made that statement the deadline had seemed impossibly far off and none of them were sure Ruthenia itself would even still be in existence.

Now it was right upon them, along with the necessity of choosing his wife or breaking his promise. Everyone in the room was painfully aware of each glance, every smile or laugh he dispensed in any direction. The dining table was a battlefield, with salvos firing over the silver.

Usually he could count on Andi to soothe any ruffled feathers with careful seating placements and subtly coordinated private trysts. Tonight, though, contrary to her promise, she'd left him in the lurch.

“Do excuse me, ladies.” He rose to his feet, avoiding all mascara-laden glances, and strode for the door.

Andi's absence worried him. What if she really did leave? She was the anchor that kept the palace floating peacefully in the choppy seas of a changing Ruthenia. He could give her any task and just assume it was done, without a word of prompting. Her tact and thoughtfulness were exemplary, and her organizational skills were unmatched. He couldn't imagine life without her.

After a short walk over the recently installed plum-colored carpets of the west hallway, he glanced into her ever-tidy office—and found it dark and empty. He frowned. She was often there in the evenings, which coincided with business hours in the U.S. and could be a busy time.

Her laptop was on the desk, as usual. That was a good sign.

Jake headed up the west staircase to the second floor, where most of the bedrooms were located. Andi had a large “family” bedroom rather than one of the pokey servants' quarters on the third floor. She was family, dammit. And
that meant she couldn't pick up and leave whenever she felt like it.

A nasty feeling gripped his gut as he approached her closed door. He knocked on the polished wood and listened for movement on the other side.

Nothing.

He tried the handle and to his surprise the door swung open. Curiosity tickling his nerves, he stepped inside and switched on the light. Andi's large room was neat and free of clutter—much like her desk. It looked like a hotel room, with no personal touches added to the rather extravagant palace décor. The sight of two black suitcases—open and packed—stopped him in his tracks.

She really was leaving.

Adrenaline surged through him. At least she hadn't gone yet, or the bags would be gone, too. The room smelled faintly of that subtle scent she sometimes wore, almost as if she was in the room with him.

He glanced around. Could she be hiding from him?

He strode across the room and tugged open the doors of the massive armoire. His breath stopped for a second and he half expected to see her crouched inside.

Which of course she wasn't. Her clothes were gone, though, leaving only empty hangers on the rod.

Anger warred with deep disappointment that she intended to abandon him like this. Did their six years together mean nothing to her?

She couldn't leave without her suitcases. Perhaps he should take them somewhere she couldn't find them. His room, for example.

Unfamiliar guilt pricked him. He didn't even like the idea of her knowing he'd entered her room uninvited, let alone taken her possessions hostage. Andi was a stickler for
honesty and had kept him aboveboard more times than he cared to remember. Taking her bags just felt wrong.

She'd said she'd leave as soon as the party was over. A woman of her word, she'd be sure to wait until the last guest was gone. As long as he found her before then, everything would be fine. He switched off the light and left the room as he'd found it.

He scanned the east hall as he headed for the stairs, a sense of foreboding growing inside him. The packed bags were an ominous sign, but he couldn't really believe she'd abandon Ruthenia—and him.

“Jake, darling, we were wondering what happened to you,” Maxi called to him from the bottom of the stairs. “Colonel Von Deiter has volunteered to play piano while we dance.” She stretched out her long arm, as if inviting him to share the first dance with her.

Since coming to Ruthenia he sometimes felt he'd stepped into a schnitzel-flavored Jane Austen story, where people waltzed around ballrooms and gossiped behind fans. He was happier in a business meeting than on a dance floor, and right now he'd much rather be dictating a letter to Andi than twirling Maxi over the parquet.

“Have you seen Andi, my assistant?”

“The little girl who wears her hair in a bun?”

Jake frowned. He wasn't sure exactly how old Andi was—mid-twenties, maybe?—but it seemed a bit rude for someone of twenty-two to call her a little girl. “She's about five foot seven,” he said, with an arched brow. “And yes, she always wears her hair in a bun.”

Come to think of it, he'd literally never seen her hair down, which was pretty odd after six years. A sudden violent urge to see Andi with her hair unleashed swept through him. “I've looked all over the palace for her, but she's vanished into thin air.”

Maxi shrugged. “Do come dance, darling.”

His friend Fritz appeared behind her. “Come on, Jake. Can't let the ladies down. Just a twirl or two. I'm sure Andi has better things to do than wait on you hand and foot.”

“She doesn't wait on me hand and foot. She's a valued executive.”

Fritz laughed. “Is that why she's always hovering around taking care of your every need?”

Jake stiffened. He never took Andi for granted. He knew just how dependent on her he was. Did she feel that he didn't care?

Frowning, he descended the stairs and took Maxi's offered hand. He was the host, after all. Two waltzes and a polka later he managed to slip out into the hallway.

“Any idea where Andi is?” he asked the first person he saw, who happened to be the night butler.

He shrugged in typical Ruthenian style. “Haven't seen her in hours. Maybe she went to bed?”

Unlikely. Andi never left a party until the last guest had rolled down the drive. But then she'd never quit before, either. He was halfway up the stairs before he realized he was heading for her bedroom again.

Jake stared at her closed door. Was she in there? And if not, were her bags still there?

He knocked, but heard no movement from inside. After checking that the corridor was deserted, he knelt and peered through the keyhole. It was empty—no key on the inside—which suggested she was out. On the other hand, the pitch darkness on the other side meant he couldn't see a thing.

He slipped in—didn't she know better than to leave her door unlocked?—and switched on the light. The suitcases were still there. Closer inspection revealed that one of them had been partially unpacked, as if an item was removed. Still, there were no clues as to Andi's whereabouts.

Frustration pricked his muscles. How could she just disappear like this?

At the foot of the stairs, Fritz accosted him, martini in hand. “When are you going to choose your bride, Jake? We're all getting impatient.”

Jake growled. “Why is everyone so mad for me to get married?”

“Because there are precious few kings left in the world and you're up for grabs. The rest of us are waiting to see who's left. None of the girls dare even kiss us anymore, let alone do anything more rakish, in case they're making themselves ineligible for a coronet. They're all fighting for the chance to be called Your Majesty.”

“Then they're all nuts. If anyone calls
me
‘Your Majesty,' I'll fire 'em.”

Fritz shoved him. “All bluster. And don't deny you have some of the loveliest women in the world to choose from.”

“I wish the loveliest women in the world would take off for the night. I'm ready to turn in.” Or rather, ready to find and corner Andi.

Fritz cocked his head. “Party pooper. All right. I'll round up the troops and march 'em out for you.”

“You're a pal.”

 

Jake watched the last chauffeured Mercedes disappear down the long driveway from the east patio. He needed some air to clear his head before tackling Andi—and watching from here ensured that she couldn't leave without him seeing her.

Could he really stand to marry Maxi or Alia or any of these empty-headed, too-rich, spoiled brats? He'd been surrounded by their kind of women all his life, even in New York. Just the circle he'd been born into. You'd think
a king would have more choices than the average Joe, but that was apparently not the case.

Something moving in the darkness caught his eye. He squinted, trying to make out what was crossing the lawn. An animal? Ruthenia had quite large deer that he was supposed to enjoy hunting.

But this creature was lighter, more upright, and moved with a kind of mystical grace. He stepped forward, peering into the gloom of a typical moonlit but cloudy night. The figure whirled and twirled on the lawn, pale fabric flowing around it.

A ghost? His back stiffened. The palace was nearly three hundred years old and built over a far more ancient structure. Tales of sieges and beheadings and people imprisoned in the dungeons rattled around the old stone walls.

Long, pale arms extended sideways as the figure twirled again. A female ghost.

Curiosity goaded him across the patio and down the stone stairs onto the lawn. He walked silently across the damp grass, eyes fixed on the strange apparition. As he drew closer he heard singing—soft and sweet—almost lost in the low breeze and the rustling of the trees.

Entranced, he moved nearer, enjoying the figure's graceful movements and the silver magic of her voice.

He stopped dead when he realized she was singing in English.

“Andi?”

Despite the hair streaming over her shoulders and the long, diaphanous dress, he recognized his assistant of six years, arms raised to the moon, swaying and singing in the night.

He strode forward faster. “Are you okay?”

She stopped and stared at him and the singing ceased. Her eyes shone bright in the darkness.

“What are you doing out here?” He walked right up to her, partly to prove to himself that she was real and not a figment of his imagination. His chest swelled with relief. At least now he'd found her and they could have that talk he'd been rehearsing in his head all night.

“Why don't we go inside?” He reached out for her hand, almost expecting his own to pass through it. She still looked so spectral, smiling in the cloud-veiled moonlight.

But the hand that seized his felt warm. Awareness snapped through him as her fingers closed around his. Her hair was longer than he'd imagined. Almost to the peaks of her nipples, which jutted out from the soft dress. He swallowed. He'd never noticed what…luxurious breasts Andi had. They were usually hidden under tailored suits and crisp blouses.

He struggled to get back on task. “We need to talk.”

Andi's grip tightened on his, but she didn't move. Her face looked different. Transfixed, somehow. Her eyes sparkling and her lips glossy and parted. Was she drunk?

“You must be cold.” On instinct he reached out to touch her upper arm, which was bare in the floaty evening gown she wore. As he drew closer, her free arm suddenly wrapped around his waist with force.

Jake stilled as she lifted her face to his. She smelled of that same soft scent she always wore, not a trace of alcohol, just flowers and sweetness. He groped for words, but failed to find any as her lips rose toward his.

Next thing he knew he was kissing her full—and hard—on the mouth.

J
ake let his arms wind around her waist. The movement was as instinctive as breathing. Their mouths melted together and her soft body pressed against his. Desire flared inside him, hot and unexpected, as the kiss deepened. His fingers ached to explore the lush curves she'd kept hidden for so long.

But this was Andi—his faithful and long-suffering assistant, not some bejeweled floozy who just wanted to lock lips with a monarch.

He pulled back from the kiss with great difficulty, unwinding himself from the surprisingly powerful grip of her slim arms. A momentary frown flashed across her lovely face—why had he never noticed she was so pretty?—then vanished again as a smile filled her soft eyes and broadened her mouth.

She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “You're beautiful.”

Shocked, Jake struggled for a response. “
You're
beautiful. I'm handsome.” He lifted a brow, as if to assure himself they were both kidding.

She giggled—in a most un-Andi-like way—and tossed her head, which sent her hair tumbling over her shoulders in a shimmering cascade. She twirled again, and the soft dress draped her form, allowing him a tantalizing view of her figure. He'd certainly never seen her in this dress before. Floor-length and daringly see-through, it was far dressier and more festive than her usual attire.

“Happiness is glorious joy,” she sang, as she turned to face him again.

“Huh?” Jake frowned.

“Mysterious moonlight and wonderful wishes.” Another silver peal of laughter left her lips—which looked quite different than he remembered, bare of their usual apricot lipstick and kissed to ruby fullness.

Unless she'd suddenly turned to poetry—very bad poetry at that—she must be intoxicated. He didn't smell anything on her breath, though. And didn't she always insist she was allergic to alcohol? He couldn't remember ever seeing her with a real drink.

Drugs?

He peered at her eyes. Yes, her pupils were dilated. Still, Andi experimenting with illegal substances? It seemed impossible.

“Did you take something?”

“Steal? I'd never steal from you. You're my true love.” She gazed at him as she spoke the words, eyes clear and blue as a summer sky.

Jake groped for words. “I meant, did you take any pills?”

You're my true love?
She was obviously tripping on something. He'd better get her inside before she tried to fly
from the parapets or walk on the water in the moat. “Let's go inside.”

He wrapped his arm around her, and she squeezed against him and giggled again. This was not the Andi he knew. Perhaps the stress of threatening to leave had encouraged her to take some kind of tranquilizer. He had no idea how those things worked, but couldn't come up with any other explanation for her odd behavior.

“You smell good.” She pressed her face against him, almost tripping him.

Jake's eyes widened, but he managed to keep walking. Her body bumping against his was not helping his own sanity. Now she'd slid an arm around his waist and her fingers fondled him as they walked. His blood was heating in a most uncomfortable way.

Maybe he could bring both of them back down to earth.

“It was cold of you to seat me between Maxi and Alia.”

“Who?” She marched gaily along over the lawn, still clinging to him. No reaction to the names.

“Maxi and Alia. Both of them fighting over me was a bit much to take on top of the cook's roulade.”

“Pretty names. We haven't met. You must introduce me sometime.” She pulled her arm from his waist and took off skipping across the damp lawn.

Jake paused and stared for a moment, then strode after her.

 

Since he didn't particularly want any of the other staff to see Andi in this compromising state, Jake hustled her into his private chambers and locked the door. That was the accepted signal that he was off duty for the night and not to be disturbed.

Andi made herself quite at home, curling up on one
of the sofas, with a languid arm draping along the back. “Happiness is as happiness does,” she said dreamily.

Jake resisted the urge to pour himself a whisky. “Listen, what you said about leaving. I saw your bags—”

“Leave? I would never leave you, my love.” Her face rested in a peaceful smile.

Jake swallowed. “So you're staying.”

“Of course. Forever and ever and ever.” Her eyes sparkled.

“Ah. That's settled then.” He moved to the liquor cabinet, deciding to have that whisky after all. “I am relieved. The thought of managing without you was quite frightening.”

Andi had risen from the sofa and was now waltzing around the room by herself, singing, “Someday my prince will come.” She twirled, sweeping her pale evening dress about her like smoke. “Some day I'll love someone.” Her radiant smile was almost infectious.

Almost. Jake took a swig of his drink. Did she really think they were having some kind of relationship outside their well-established professional one? As much as the idea appealed right this second, he knew it would really mess things up once she snapped out of whatever chemical induced trance she was in.

He'd better remind her of that. “We've worked together a long time.”

She stopped twirling for a moment, and frowned. “I don't think I do work.”

“You're a lady of leisure?”

She glanced down at her evening gown. “Yes.” She frowned; then her expression brightened. “I must be. Otherwise why would I be dressed like this?”

Had she temporarily forgotten that she was his assistant? “Why are you dressed like that?” She'd certainly never worn anything so festive before.

“It's pretty, isn't it?” She looked up at him. “Do you like it?”

“Very much.” He allowed his eyes to soak up the vision of it draped over her gorgeous body. Desire licked through him in tiny, tormenting flames.

Andi reached out and tugged at his shirt. Even that made his synapses flash and his groin tighten.

“Why don't you come sit with me.” She stroked the sofa cushion next to her.

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” His voice came out gruff.

“Why not?”

“It's late. We should get to bed.” The image of her in his bed flooded his brain, especially as it was right there in the next room. But caution tightened his muscles.

“Oh, don't be silly—” She frowned. “How odd.” She glanced up at him. “I can't think of your name right now.”

Jake was about to tell her, but something made him stop. “You don't know my name?”

She looked up for a few moments, as if searching her brain. “No, I don't seem to know it.”

Panic tightened his chest. “What's your name?”

She looked toward the ceiling, scrunched up her brow and clenched her fists. When she finally looked back at him, her expression had changed from glee to confusion. “I'm not sure.”

“I think we should call for a doctor.” He pulled his phone out.

“A doctor? What for? I feel fine.”

He hesitated. “Let me look at you. Did you bump your head?”

She shrugged. “I don't think so.”

He put his phone back in his pocket and touched her temples with his thumbs. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up
at him and her scent was a torment. He worked his fingers gently back into her hair—which was soft and luxurious to touch. “Hey, I feel a lump.”

“Ouch!”

“You have a bruise.” He touched it gently. A big goose egg. That explained a whole lot. “We're definitely calling the doctor. You could have a concussion.” He dialed the number. “Listen, sorry it's so late, Gustav, but Andi's taken a fall and bumped her head. She's not talking too much sense and I think you should look at her.”

Gustav replied that he'd be there in the ten minutes it took to drive from the town, and to keep her awake until he got there.

After letting the staff know to expect Gustav, Jake sat down on the sofa opposite her. It made sense to find out just how much of her memory had vanished. “How old are you?” Odd that he didn't know that.

“Over twenty-one.” She laughed. Then frowned. “Other than that, I'm not too sure. How old do I look?”

Jake smiled. “I'd be a damned fool if I answered a question like that from a woman.” He decided he'd be better off following the lawyer's strategy of only asking questions he knew the answer to. It was pretty embarrassing that he really didn't know how old she was. “How long have you lived here?”

She stared at him, mouth slightly open, then looked away. “Why are you asking me these silly questions? I've lived here a long time. With you.”

Her gaze—innocent yet needy—ate into him. She stroked the sofa arm with her fingers and his skin tingled in response. She seemed to have lost her memory, and, in its absence, assumed they were a couple.

Jake sucked in a long breath. They'd never had any kind of flirtation, even a playful one. She always seemed so
businesslike and uninterested in such trivial matters. He'd never really looked at her that way, either. Much simpler to keep business and pleasure separate, especially when a really good assistant was so hard to find and keep.

Right now he was seeing a different aspect of Andi—alarming, and intriguing.

She rose and walked a few steps to his sofa, then sank down next to him. Her warm thigh settled against his, causing his skin to sizzle even through their layers of clothing. He stiffened. Was it fair to offer a man this kind of temptation?

At least it was keeping her awake.

Her fingers reached up to his black bow tie and tugged at one end. The knot came apart and the silk ribbons fell to his starched shirtfront.

“Much better.” She giggled again, then pulled the tie out from his collar and undid the top button of his shirt. Jake watched, barely breathing, trying to suppress the heaving tide of arousal surging inside him.

After all, it would be rude to push her away, wouldn't it? Especially in her delicate and mysterious condition.

When her fingers roamed into his hair, causing his groin to ache uncomfortably, he had to take action. He stood up rapidly. “The doctor will be here any minute. Can I get you a glass of water?”

“I'm not thirsty.” Her hurt look sent a pang to his heart.

“Still, it's good to keep hydrated.” He busied himself with filling a glass at the bar, and took care not to accidentally brush her fingertips as he handed it to her. Her cheeks and lips were flushed with pink, which made her look aroused and appealing at the same time.

She took the glass and sipped cautiously. Then looked up at him with a slight frown. “I do feel odd.”

Jake let out a sigh of relief. This seemed more like the real Andi than the one spouting loopy epithets. “You'll probably feel better in the morning, but it can't hurt to have the doctor take a look.”

Alarm filled him as tears welled in her eyes. “It's just so strange not being able to remember anything. How could I not even know my own name?” A fat tear rolled down her soft cheek.

Disturbing that he now knew how soft her cheek was.

“Your name is Andi Blake.”

“Andi.” She said it softly. Then frowned again. “Is that short for something?”

Jake froze. Was it? He had no idea. He didn't remember ever calling her anything else, but it had been six long years since he'd seen her résumé and frankly he couldn't remember the details. “Nope. Just Andi. It's a pretty name.”

He regretted the lame comment, something you might say to a six-year-old. But then he didn't have experience in dealing with amnesiacs, so maybe it wasn't all that inappropriate.

“Oh.” She seemed to mull that over. She wiped her eyes. “At least I know my own name now.” Then she bit her lip. “Though it doesn't sound at all familiar.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “What if my memory doesn't come back?”

“Don't worry about that, I'm sure—” A knock on the door announced the arrival of the doctor, and Jake released a sigh of relief. “Please send him in.”

Andi's tearful trembling subsided as the doctor checked her over, peering into her eyes with a light, checking her pulse and breathing, and taking her temperature.

As the local doctor, he'd been to the palace before and knew Andi. She showed no sign of recognizing or remembering him. His questions revealed that while she
remembered general concepts, like how to tie a knot, she recalled nothing about her own life.

“Andi, would you excuse us a moment?” The doctor ushered Jake out into the hallway. “Is she exhibiting mood changes?”

“Big time. She's not like herself at all. She seemed happy—silly even—when I first found her. Just now she was crying. I think the reality of what's going on is setting in.”

“Sounds like a pretty textbook case of temporary memory loss, if there is such a thing.” The older man snapped his briefcase closed. “Lots of emotion. Mood swings. Loss of long-term memory. I've never seen it before, myself, but in most cases the memory eventually starts to come back.”

“When? How long will she be like this?”

The doctor gave a Ruthenian shrug. “Could be days, could be weeks. There's a slim possibility she won't ever recall everything. She's certainly had a good bump to her head, but no signs of concussion or other injury. Do you have any idea what happened?”

Jake shook his head. “I found her out dancing on the lawn. I didn't see anything happen at all.”

“Make sure she gets plenty of sleep, and encourage her with questions to bring back her memory.” The doctor hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. “Call me anytime, of course.”

“Thanks.” Jake frowned. “Can we keep this amnesia thing between us? I think Andi would be embarrassed if people knew what was going on. She's a very private person.”

The doctor's brow furrowed even more than usual. “Of course.”
Your Highness.
The unspoken words hovered in the air. Jake sensed slight disapproval at his request for secrecy,
but he knew the physician would honor it. “Please keep me posted on her progress.”