PART THREE

Had all her hopes and dreams come crashing down in ruins around her? Clarisse leaned back in the limousine and closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. She had KNOWN Mia would not likely accept the throne, but she had hoped otherwise. Now, however, having seen how her grand-daughter's eyes never quite met hers when talking about how she would be getting to the ball that evening, Clarisse felt the destruction of her world as keenly as if there had been a physical earthquake. Still, Mia HAD submitted to the hug. Perhaps she was just shy. Perhaps she WOULD agree to be the crown princess of Genovia, even if only to escape making a speech to the press. Perhaps Mia would listen to her grandmother's sincere statement that she had faith in the young girl NOT disappointing the people of Genovia.

Joseph had driven Clarisse to her grand-daughter's place this morning, and had remained outside. Neither of them had referred aloud to the episode in the basement of the consulate, yet the memory of their kisses haunted them both. Following the scandal Mia had initiated at the beach party, Joseph had spoken to Clarisse, saying that the boy's kiss had been merely a device to gain himself fifteen minutes of fame. His impassioned defence of the young girl had Clarisse re-think her actions. After a moment, she had asked Joseph pleadingly, "Do YOU think she can do it?" and Joseph had smoothly calmed her nerves by saying he had no doubt. Then, as if sensing her emotions perilously near breaking point, he had advised her to call Charlotte and have a cup of tea to soothe her nerves before meeting with the press. That had been the only time Clarisse had been alone with Joseph until this very morning ... although being alone in a limousine with Joseph driving and herself in the back seat was hardly conducive to conversation.

Clarisse had woken up this morning, realizing she only had two more days in America, and that she wanted to spend more time with her grand-daughter. Tomorrow would entail final meetings in preparation for her return to Genovia, tonight was the ball, so this morning had been the only time available to deliver Philippe's final birthday gift to his daughter. Seeing Mia smoothing the rich red leather of the diary, Clarisse had been pleased to see her grand-daughter's pleasure. That had given her the courage to apologize for her words the other day following the beach scandal, admitting that it had been very judgmental of her and that she hadn't gathered all the facts of the incident.

What had really seared itself into Clarisse's heart, however, had been Mia's admission that she was afraid of disappointing the people of Genovia, and more importantly, disappointing Clarisse again. The look in the girl's eyes had made Clarisse pause for control before she had said firmly, "I have faith in you."

And she did, she DID have faith in Amelia. As Joseph had said, Mia had shown great respect and had indeed acted beyond her fifteen years of age. Why, then, was Clarisse still edgy? Why did she feel as if she were standing on a precipice? Was it knowing that the von Trokens were waiting ever more impatiently for their chance to wrest the country from the firm grip of the Renaldis? She opened her eyes, resting her gaze on the back of Joseph's head. Maybe it was time to admit that her first and foremost problem was not Mia, nor the von Trokens, but rather the more formal relationship that had existed between herself and this man ever since the outpouring of their emotions the other night. She HAD to talk to Joseph. But first she had to see this evening through. It was expected of her. She could do nothing else.

O o O o O o O o

Never in her life had Clarisse experienced such a wide range of emotions as that night of the Independence Day Ball in San Francisco. Inwardly suffering from nervousness and despondency when she had realized Mia was not going to show, she had felt the strain of maintaining her composure in the face of the huge gathering. When at last she had stalled as long as possible, Queen Clarisse had stiffened her resolve and, putting all thoughts of Joseph and a possible future with him out of her mind, she had stood at the podium and had begun the speech that would bring to an end an era in her beloved country.

Just in the nick of time, Joseph had arrived with a bedraggled princess and Clarisse's mood had swung upwards in a heartbeat. Never had she been so proud or so fond of her grand-daughter as the moment the girl had mustered her courage, conquered her fears of inadequacy, and regally accepted the throne with a phenomenal inauguration speech. Following the formalities, Mia had been whisked away by Charlotte and Clarisse and quickly readied for the ball. Arm in arm, grandmother and grand-daughter had re-entered the ballroom, Clarisse so full of joy that she fairly sparkled. Everyone at the ball commented on the beauty of both grandmother and grand-daughter. With an energy that belied her years, Clarisse danced every dance, unable to contain her happiness. The icing on the cake had been when Joseph had cut in on her very first dance with the prime minister and had sent her pulse soaring by his comment that he had planned to spirit her away to a private place in the garden until Mia and her escort had pre-empted him.

Much later that evening, Clarisse found herself in Joseph's arms again on the dance floor. With Joseph's help in 'directing traffic', she had managed at least part of a dance with every gentleman in attendance, even with Bruce and Arthur, Masters of the Order of the Rose. Time and again, however, she had returned to the embrace of this man who, she now admitted to herself and thought she was ready to confess to him, held her heart firmly in his capable hands.

Trying to convey some of her deep gratitude, Clarisse spoke softly as they moved around the dance floor. "I understand from Charlotte that you spent most of this afternoon playing basketball again. You must be right about it reducing stress, because you acted promptly and efficiently earlier tonight. You really were 'on top of your game', I believe is the expression. Thank you, Joseph, for getting Mia here. She would not have been here in time had you not realized when you did and set off immediately."

"It was a long shot, but I kept going until I found her."

"I thought you were going to get a penalty," she teased him gently.

"No violation or foul was committed. Yet." he added, his thumb moving suggestively on her hand.

Clarisse swallowed, and tried to keep the conversation light as she concentrated on her dancing. "And if one WAS committed? Then what?"

"Then I suppose I could request a time out."

"Time out?"

"Mmhmm. Quite legal for basketball as well as for other situations in life. In fact, I'd like to ask for one now, your Majesty."

"What ...?"

"We could go into some defence strategies ..."

Just then, Joseph felt a tap on his shoulder. Irritated, he looked around to see the princess and her escort, Michael, smiling expectantly at them. With a half-hearted smile in return, Joseph relinquished the queen to the nervous young man, saying in an undertone to her, "THIS is an example of a foul!" before taking the girl in his arms and sweeping her away in the dance.

"Joe?" Mia said, rather timidly.

"Yes, your Highness?"

"Joe, I just want to thank you again for coming to my rescue tonight."

"I was merely doing my duty."

"I don't think so." Mia leaned closer and kissed his cheek as she had earlier that evening. "Thank you SO much, Joe! Ummm, is it all right if I kiss you in public? Joe? You aren't BLUSHING, are you?"

"THAT was a low blow, your Highness!" he said gruffly. "Of course I'm not blushing. It must be the lighting or even the extreme heat in here."

Mia grinned at him. "Whatever you say," she said, cheekily.

Meanwhile, Clarisse was struggling to find something to say to Mia's young man, finally remembering that he was the one who had helped with the Mustang. Talking about the car and how he had fixed the brakes already filled in the time until they were once more met by Joseph and Mia. Both couples gladly went to their own partners.

"Your Majesty?" Joseph murmured in Clarisse's ear, "When may I call for a time out?"

"Joseph, we can't just leave ..."

"We have been here an eternity, doesn't it feel like it to you? You have completed your duty dances. Surely we're in the last quarter of the game and believe me, a time out is in order!"

"Oh, very well. Just let me speak with Sebastian ..." Clarisse began, but Joseph danced her over to the door before she could stop him.

"I already told him you might be retiring early," Joseph said.

The guards at the door opened it, bowing as Joseph followed Clarisse out, his hand warm and possessive on her back. They paced sedately down the hallway, Joseph waving away the guards, then taking Clarisse's hand in his. Once up the stairs, however, he hurried her down the deserted corridor without saying a word.

"Joseph?" Clarisse asked breathlessly as he steered her towards her room.

Joseph stopped abruptly and swung to face her. There was no mistaking the meaning of Joseph's actions; not when his fingers had closed over hers with taut possession, not when his desire to kiss her was so clear in his deep eyes through the moonlight from the nearby window. Clarisse wished she could have been so certain of her own needs.

"The rain appears to have cleared away ..." she began timidly.

"Your time is up, Clarisse," his voice was low and husky, making her shiver with her desire.

"Joseph, please, I think ..."

"You think too much." His hand touched her cheek. "Let me kiss you again, Clarisse."

She couldn't deny him anything. Not when he had done so much for her tonight already. Not when her heart was so full of love for him. When his mouth came to hers at last, it was soft as a whisper. His hands didn't race to excite, but moved with exquisite patience to seduce. He had to feel her confusion, had to hear it in the unsteady murmur of his name, but he only rubbed his lips over hers. His strong hands moved over the tensed slope of her shoulders, then slid down her arms.

"Trust me." he whispered against her lips before kissing her lightly on her cheeks. "Let go and trust me, Clarisse." Over her jaw, down the line of her throat, back to her trembling lips, his mouth whispered. "Kiss me ..."

"I shouldn't ..." His kisses had her sinking deeply into a thick, velvety haze. She couldn't get her bearings, and didn't really want to. Surely this endless, echoing tunnel was paradise.

He touched, hardly touching at all, and left her weak. His mouth, gliding like a cool breeze over her flesh, was rapture. She could hear him murmur to her, incredible promises, soft and lovely words. There was passion in the words, yet this was a passion to give she had never expected.

"We can't get involved ..." But even as she said it, her mouth was moving against his.

"I know." He changed the angle of his head and sucked on her bottom lip.

"This is just ... oooh ... chemistry." Her fingers locked around his neck.

"You're right." He kissed her again quickly on the lips, then moved to her ear.

Clarisse trembled, and managed to gasp, "It mustn't go anywhere."

"It already has. This isn't a time for talking, Clarisse, only for playing the game. It is our time for loving."

He was right. She let herself fall into his kisses, into the heat they engendered. She needed this, although she couldn't afford to want or need as the queen. She had too many responsibilities, too much to worry about without having a secret relationship with her Head of Security. But she couldn't pull away. Not just yet. Just another moment or two of his delicious kisses ...

"Enough!" she gasped at last, half-plea, half-demand.

"I think not." His control was strained to the limit. "You will remember this forever," he vowed huskily. "Moment to moment, heartbeat to heartbeat, you will remember me, us, and everything we shared. Never again will you have to wonder about us! So soft," he murmured, "so smooth and sleek, so perfectly formed. You really are exquisite." Joseph held her in the shelter of his arms even as his hands moved, learning and soothing her all at once. "You are incredible," he said at last, softly.

She smiled. "Mmmmhmmmm." Her cheeks felt tender, and she realized she was going to be pink for a while – evidence of his beard rubbing her. Somehow, she didn't care. Makeup would take care of that, and his kisses had definitely been worth it.

"I've never experienced anything remotely like your kisses," he said with simple truth.

"I must say that I haven't either."

"So we can say I scored?" he asked, tracing her cheek with a gentle finger.

"Joseph?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I believe this got out of hand."

He could hear the smile in her voice, and his own lips twitched. "I believe you are right, Clarisse."

Her fingers travelled lightly over his cheeks. "Joseph? Did you really score ... or," she hesitated, then pressed her lips to his before finishing, "did I?" Then she laughed softly and added teasingly, "I think I might grow to love basketball, especially if you play with me. In fact, let's install a court in the palace in Genovia. Once more, thank you for tonight, for bringing Mia here, but most of all, for ... for loving me. It has been an eventful six weeks here. Truthfully, Joseph, wouldn't you say we BOTH scored?"

The END of this story, the BEGINNING of their future together!