An Ordinary Day by Vivian Leiber

Author:Vivian Leiber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“I’ve never met a princess before,” Mrs. MacPhail said, drawing Serena into the living room. “Is it true that you can’t wear purple to formal events because only the reigning monarch is allowed to wear royal colors?”

“Well, uh, actually...”

“How many rooms are there in the palace at the capital?”

“I only know what I’ve been told, but the figure is estimated at—”

“Do you really drink only carrot juice during the day to keep your figure?”

She patted the cushion next to her on the plaid upholstered couch.

“Ma, don’t do this,” Dylan warned, drawing the whispery soft lace curtains.

Softened-to-butter light shrouded the room. He picked up the telephone on the coffee table, listened for a second to the dial tone and hung up.

“Really, Dylan, I have an obligation as a guest in your mother’s house,” Serena said. “Besides, these questions are not nearly as bad as the ones the press shouts at me every day. Mrs. MacPhail, true on purple, fourteen hundred rooms at latest count, and no, not at all. I don’t even like carrots.”

“Thought not,” Mrs. MacPhail said, nodding sagely. “I gave it a try for two days last year and I haven’t been able to look at a carrot since.”

“But what I eat is regulated rather strictly.”

“Yeah, but it seems to work.” Mrs. MacPhail poked Serena’s slender thigh. “But if I had to give up chocolate, it wouldn’t be worth it. Do they at least let you have that?”

“Ma, please!” Dylan exclaimed. “This visit needs discretion. Are you having your bridge club ladies over this evening?”

She shot a “my son, such a worry wart” look at Serena.

“No, Dylan, bridge is tomorrow. Don’t give me another thought, Your Highness. I’ve had many of Dylan’s clients and friends in this living room, but I would go to an early grave rather than say a word about them,” she said, placing a solemn hand over her heart. “Although my chicken fried steak has brought back one national leader so many times that I think the neighbors are catching on. It’s hard to persuade your friends that your plumber does his business from a stretch limo with fifteen of Dylan’s Secret Service agent buddies in tow.”

“Mother!”

“All right, Dylan, what do you want?”

“I want you to go shopping.”

“Mmm, I like that part. But why?”

“Because I’m asking. Please. Please go shopping.”

“How long?”

“One hour,” Dylan said, pulling a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and laying it on the coffee table. “I need one hour, and wipe that look off your face. There’s nothing between us. She needs some sleep and I need some downtime.”

“So there’s clean sheets in your room.”

“We’ll be in separate rooms. She’ll take the guest room,” he said. “I’ll take my own room. Nothing, Mom, absolutely nothing’s going on.”

“Nothing?” Mrs. MacPhail asked, and Serena startled, thinking it had been her voice. Because Mrs. MacPhail’s question was hers. Nothing? That kiss meant nothing? But, of course. He was a man of the world and for him, a kiss was ... just a kiss.

For her it had been an awakening.

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