Free Royal Affair by Alice Gaines Page B

snuggled her way deeper into his
embrace. “You do or does Herr Schmidt?”
    He tucked her head under his chin. “We both
do.”
    “Then you both shall have me.” Had she ever
felt like this before? Alexander had given her so much, including
all his devotion. Yes, he’d made her happy for years, but he’d
never caused her spirit to float outside her body, scarcely
tethered to earth. Such fancies, but then, she was living her own
fairy tale with this man.
    “I’d better let you go,” he said, although
his arms made no move to release her. Neither did she try to move
away. How could she leave the warmth of his embrace?
    “I should do some work,” he said.
    “I should rescue Mrs. Beaumont from
Vaclav.”
    He sighed. “If I were Ulrich, I’d probably
make love with you on top of my desk.”
    Her turn to laugh. “Probably not good for
either of our backs.”
    “I’m glad you’ll stay with us,” he said.
    “I may as well. Half my staff is already on
the way here. I’ll send for the rest.” And some clothes, including
a new gown he hadn’t seen yet.
    “Good.” This time, he did release her,
although his hands lingered on her upper arms for a moment. “I’ll
come to you tonight.”
    She nodded, and he kissed her forehead. She
had to force her feet to leave his study, and when she closed the
door, she leaned against it, grinning like a fool. She’d have to
find some way to compose herself in front of the others, but it
wouldn’t be easy.
    *
    All weddings took elaborate planning. Royal
weddings involved an entire, huge household, even an entire
country. Beaumont weddings were in a class by themselves, it
appeared. The entire female brain trust—Beaumonts, VonRamsbergs,
and Marta—sat at a table in Mrs. Beaumont’s sitting room. They’d
gone through dozens of sketches from prominent designers and hadn’t
decided on the basics of what Dixie’s dress should look like.
    Felice rubbed her eyes and pulled the pad of
yellow lined paper in front of her again. “Why don’t we try listing
the basic elements of a dress? Then we can go on from there.”
    “It has to be white,” Lorraine, Dixie’s
stepsister, said.
    “She’s been married before.” Mrs. Beaumont
stared at Dixie. “It’ll have to be ecru.”
    In other words, because Dixie wasn’t a
virgin, she didn’t merit white. For a moment, it looked as if Casey
wanted to lunge at the woman, but Felice put a hand on Casey’s
arm.
    “Oh, Mama, no one goes by that nonsense
anymore,” Lorraine said. “The wedding will be on television. She
has to be in white.”
    “What in blue blazes makes you think my
wedding is going to be on television?” Dixie scooped her little dog
up into her lap. She did that a lot when dealing with her family,
as if the animal calmed her.
    Lorraine put her hands on her hips. “You’re
marrying a prince, silly.”
    Still holding Cupcake, Dixie leaned across
the table toward her stepsister. “He’s fourth in line to the throne
and that’s only if Dev doesn’t have children.”
    Everyone looked at Felice, who straightened
in her chair. “I’m not talking.”
    “Of course, you’re not, my dear.” Marta
touched Felice’s shoulder. “Back to the gown.”
    “I suppose it’ll have to be white,” Mrs.
Beaumont said. “Show me that last sketch again.”
    Marta passed it across the table toward Mrs.
Beaumont.
    “Why don’t we work on the guest list?” Casey
said. “We were making some progress there.”
    “The usual people will be invited,” Marta
said. “Ambassadors, some heads of state.”
    Mrs. Beaumont fanned herself with her hand.
“Isn’t that Vaclav person enough?”
    Casey chuckled, although it came out a bit
like a snort.
    Dixie grinned. “I can take care of him.”
    “I’d pay to see that,” Casey said.
    “For you, it’s free, darlin’.” Dixie patted
Casey’s hand.
    “Back to work.” Felice grabbed a pen and a
pad of paper. “I’ll start a list.”
    “We’ll want everyone from the