GIVEN TO THE PRINCE

Part 4

"Miss Vickey say you muff stay here. I twied but she say you can't sleep in my bed. You muff go home to your family."

Victoria remembered the little girl placing each ladybug on a single blade of grass. Then, with a soft nudge, she encouraged them to move. When they didn't cooperate, she crossed her arms and waited. Only the quivering of her bottom lip was at odds with her patient vigilance. After several minutes, the two little bugs lifted their wings and flew away. The true measure of the child's grief rang in her whispered words. "Where's my family? When I go home?"

Those words triggered a remembered pain in Victoria and a yearning for comfort long unfulfilled. Her unguarded heart lept to bond with the precious child. Before she could make her presence known, another voice, a woman's, called to the little girl. Talli, as she was named, rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself to her knees, exposing the braces encasing her little legs. With considerable awkwardness, she stood and shuffled out of sight.

Victoria hadn't pursued the property deal her father wanted. The world could certainly do without another shopping mall. In fact, she was probably Applewood's biggest financial supporter. Over the last six months, a growing attachment to four of its eighty-three children kept drawing her back like a magnet. Surprised and baffled by the strength of her affection, she'd decided to keep this part of her life private. No one, including her best friend and her father, knew of her involvement with Applewood and its children.

The sound of scampering feet ended her moody reflections. Applewood was waking up. The enticing smell of cinnamon reminded her stomach of the supper she'd missed the night before.

Sliding her feet to the floor, she headed for the shower. The steamy water did its job, easing away the tension in her body and washing hurtful memories from her mind. She entered the dining room to find the room empty except for Mr. Tryon, one of the janitors. She gave him a warm smile as he greeted her.

"Morning, Miss Ballard. Expect you're wondering where the children are?"

"Yes, aren't they usually here at this time?"

"Sure are. They'd be about halfway through the cinnamon rolls by now." He chuckled. "Can't say as I blame them..." The man's voice trailed away as if losing himself in thoughts of hot, sweet, butter-drenched cinnamon rolls.

Her stomach voiced its agreement in a low, hungry rumble.

"You'll find them all out on the back lawn, Miss Ballard. Today is what they call their Green Day, so they're eating with the trees and grass and such."

Victoria wasn't sure she understood what Green Day meant, but at least she had a clue where the children were. "Thanks for your help, Mr. Tryon. I'll just head in that direction."

"Sure thing, Miss Ballard. You'd better hurry, though. Those little ones can eat a mountain of rolls before the dew dries."

She made her way down the back corridor of the building and stepped out onto a massive lawn where a breakfast picnic was underway. White bath towels served as sitting mats for eighty-plus children who, by the sound of laughter, were enjoying their picnic with the vegetation.

Talli was the first to spot her arrival. Her shouts of "Toria, Toria" shook the leaves on the grove of birch trees surrounding the lawn. Victoria knelt to receive the hugs she'd become accustomed to, giving back squeeze for squeeze until the little girl, sufficiently cuddled, pulled back. By then she had attracted a circle of other children wanting to share in the hugging ceremony. As much as she wanted breakfast, she knew these children had a more important hunger that needed satisfying first. Reaching out, she filled her arms with their little bodies.

"Come now, children," said Applewood's headmistress, Mrs. Stratton. "Give Miss Victoria a little air; you're going to hug her to death." The children squealed in delight at Mrs. Stratton's joke and scampered back to their towels and breakfast.

"I think you might be safe now, Miss Ballard. Let me help you up."

Victoria took the woman's outstretched hand. Despite her advanced age and silver hair, she was sturdy and vibrant as the stately birch trees guarding the lawn's perimeter. With a robust tug, Victoria was pulled to her feet.

"I noticed you had signed in last night, and I knew you'd be looking for some breakfast sooner or later. Come over by the gazebo; we have some chairs set up for us older folks."

Victoria followed her hostess to the meditation garden where six other staff members greeted her as they approached. She and Mrs. Stratton filled the last two remaining chairs.

"I've wanted to talk to you, Miss Ballard, and this is a perfect opportunity. You've been so good to the children, and your financial support has enabled us to make several needed improvements to the infirmary and the kitchens. We are very grateful."

"I am happy to do what I can. You know I fell in love with this place when I first came here. Anything I do is small in comparison with what you and your staff accomplish."

"I don't wish to be presumptuous, Miss Ballard, but I've noticed your particular interest in four of our children. This is what concerns me, and why I'm taking this opportunity to talk with you. The four children I speak of are beginning to see you as their exclusive property. Are you aware of this?"

"Yes, I am. Does this present a problem?"

"A child, especially an abandoned or orphaned one, can sometimes put their own implication on simple acts of kindness. They tend to make more of the gesture than is really there. I don't wish to see these children suffer another loss..."

"You need to say no more, Mrs. Stratton. I understand what you're saying and this is my fault for not discussing my intentions with you earlier. I don't wish to make excuses, but I have only recently made a decision myself. Perhaps I could come by your office tomorrow morning and discuss this at length?"

"You would be most welcome. Now, I've taken enough of your time and kept you from your breakfast. You join the children and I'll talk with you tomorrow."

****

Rashid concentrated on controlling the powerful compilation of metal and technology beneath his hands as he piloted his jet several thousand feet over the Mediterranean. He wished controlling his chaotic thoughts were as easy. A woman who, only yesterday, was no more than a recurring image now laid siege to his life. She had not lowered her eyes in seductive enticement nor tipped the corners of her mouth with sweet, sensuous encouragement. On the contrary, the diminutive blonde beauty with flashing azure eyes challenged him with the boldness of a man. Regardless, she was but a woman, one he could not entrust to another.

Bedouin blood raced through his veins and flared red-hot like the desert sunset on the horizon before him. He banked the jet. It shuddered, as if in resistance, then surrendered to his touch. Was it not the same with a man and a woman? Acquiring a wife was the last thing he had expected when accepting Jacob Ballard's request for a business meeting in New York. Now, sealing the marriage agreement was the driving force behind his every thought. He'd left the arrangements in Jacob's control with one stipulation of his own...speed. Jacob requested six weeks. Rashid allowed him three.

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Have these characters engaged your interest? At this point, do you care what happens to Victoria? What are your feelings toward Jacob or Rashid?

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