Killer Queens (18 page)

‘
Oui, monsieur?
’ Philippe clasped his hands across his chest and tilted his head a little to one side, expectantly.

‘The guys here – they don’t drink tea on a hunt, do they?’ Bob asked, winking.

Philippe let out what was almost a titter.

‘Oh,
monsieur, non, je vous assure! Absolument pas!
But not at all. There is the brandy, usually. The whisky also. But if
monsieur
would prefer the beer, we have truly excellent Herzoslovakian and also German ales—’

‘No need to worry about that now,’ Bob said with a wide smile. ‘Just checking.’

‘Hey, I’d like to try some of that Herzoslovakian beer!’ Randy said enthusiastically.

Philippe’s eyes flashed behind the lenses of his glasses.

‘I will myself, personally, bring a selection to
monsieur’s
room
tout de suite
,’ he assured Randy. ‘I will be
most
happy to oblige
monsieur
with any request he may have, no matter
what
it may be.’ He smiled at Randy. ‘
Monsieur
has only to ask.’

From that moment on, there was, at least, no more talk of the Makarwiczes leaving Herzoslovakia precipitately. Cautiously, tentatively, they settled into what Bob was now calling their orientation week. The castle visits were a huge hit, as they had been with Lori; no one from the New World could fail to be entranced by the history, the charm, the breathtaking perfection of the centuries-old turreted stone castles clinging so prettily to the sides of the steep slopes, the sunshine glinting off the light sprinkling of snow on the velvety green grass lawns that flowed down to the river, the trips down the Danube on Joachim’s powerboat, and the lunches on a moored, heated barge floating peacefully beneath the castle walls, a string quartet playing Mozart as they ate. Lori, taking a hand in the menus, had made sure that there were always cheese, ham and smoked sausages for her family: cold cuts were easily understandable food for the Makarwiczes, washed down with beer for Randy and Bob and Riesling for Sandy and Hailey, who were used to sweet wine. Back home, raspberry merlot was one of the most popular alcoholic drinks.

And the weather cooperated, to Lori and Joachim’s great relief: it barely snowed, the sun stayed out, it was a clear crisp day for the boar hunt. This idea turned out to have been a masterstroke of Joachim’s. Bob and Randy looked forward to it for days, went off before sunrise, equipped with monogrammed hip flasks and Barbours presented to them by Joachim, and returned, mud-stained and blissed out, babbling about how well the hunting dogs were trained, how expertly the drivers handled their Land Rovers, how fast the boar scampered through the brush. Joachim was tactful enough to give Bob the credit for the one they killed: roped onto the roof of one of the Land Rovers, it was taken back to the Schloss, butchered and marinated in red wine and vinegar for forty-eight hours to tenderize it before it would be served at the Makarwiczes’ farewell dinner.

Meanwhile, Sandy and Hailey were shopping, lunching and attending another fitting for Lori’s wedding dress. The lace was being carefully pieced over the bodice, the embroidery pattern of the seed pearls was taking shape, the ermine trim had been shaped by the furriers to perfection. Sandy burst into hysterical sobs on seeing her daughter in the exquisite creation even before the Dowager, smiling, showed Sandy and Hailey the jewellery that Lori would be wearing.

The tiara and choker sent Sandy completely over the edge; she collapsed onto a love seat, sobbing her heart out in the Dowager’s arms, as the Dowager patted her head and told her how much they all loved Lori in Herzoslovakia and what good care they would take of her daughter, while swiftly dabbing Sandy’s slightly snotty tears away before they stained the shantung-silk lapels of her immaculate suit. Katya and Kristin, Joachim’s cousins, who were almost always around now, having bonded with Hailey, ordered more champagne from a footman and strolled out on the terrace, gossiping and smoking with Hailey as Lori, standing on the dressmakers’ plinth, felt tears pricking at her own eyes at the sight of her mother crying with sheer joy.

By that evening, the Dowager and Sandy had bonded sufficiently for them to decide to have a quiet dinner in the Dowager’s rooms, followed by a viewing, in the private cinema, of
The Sound of Music
. It had transpired that this was one of both women’s favourite films: parts of it had actually been shot in Herzoslovakia, and the Dowager was going to point them all out to Sandy. Bob and Randy were out with Joachim at a beer hall, which left the four young women free to hit the chicest nightlife that Valtzers had to offer. Katya had actually suggested that they fly to Paris for the evening, which had rendered Hailey speechless in wonder for a good five minutes, but Lori had nixed the idea, pointing out that as Joachim’s fiancée she couldn’t possibly be seen to prefer anywhere to Valtzers.

They had dinner in a very smart Italian restaurant – though Katya and Kristin, who were glossy, full-on Eurotrash, mostly smoked, drank white wine and pushed their food around their plates, Hailey emulating them eagerly. The conversation was mostly about boyfriends, past, present and future; Hailey was wide-eyed at the list of pop stars, film actors and European royalty that Katya and Kristin reeled off; particularly fascinating was the revelation that Prince Toby even had freckles on his cock. In return, responding to their teasing questions, she described every single man that Lori had ever dated, to Lori’s great mortification: ‘always blond and built,’ Hailey spilled, giggling. ‘Lori’s high school boyfriend was just like a short Liam Hemsworth – you know, Thor? She goes for the jocks.’

‘Jocks?’ Katya asked, unfamiliar with the American word.

‘Sporty guys – you know!’

‘Oh yes, I like those very much!’ Kristin agreed, promptly reciting a list of tennis players and Formula One drivers with whom she had been sexually intimate. It mercifully turned the conversation away from Lori, and they were still on the subject of sporty guys when they left the restaurant, climbed into the limo waiting outside, drove three blocks to Coco Bongo, Valtzers’ most expensive nightclub, and got out again. Coco Bongo was very dark and very plush, catering to tax-avoiding million- and billionaires visiting their legal place of residence on advice from their accountants. At its bar clustered the kinds of very expensive young women who gathered in the exclusive bars and clubs frequented by tax-avoiding million- and billionaires. Katya and Kristin swept past them regally, up the steps to the VIP area, where the manager was already jumping to unhook the velvet rope for them personally.

It was the best night out for Hailey that Lori could have imagined, and she was hugely grateful to Joachim’s lively young cousins for organizing it. Lori was much more sedate than her sister, which, of course, made her perfect queen material; but they were completely safe inside Coco Bongo, pictures being absolutely banned, and the Herzoslovakian countesses and Hailey, having had very little to eat, swiftly got absolutely hammered on vodka shots and tumbled around the dance floor on high heels to Rihanna and Pitbull. Lori sat in the VIP area in a booth that overlooked the dance floor, sipped a glass of white wine and watched her sister with satisfaction; every single visiting member of the Makarwicz family had found some activity they genuinely enjoyed in Herzoslovakia. Their visit had been much more successful than she had ever dreamt it would be, the royal family bending over backwards to welcome their new in-laws.

‘Darling!’ She looked up to see her fiancé sliding into the booth beside her. ‘You are having a good time?’ he asked.

Putting his arm around her, Joachim kissed her with enthusiasm. She tasted beer on his breath, a dark, rich ale, so much nicer than the generic chemical flavour she was used to from previous boyfriends who had been hitting the Buds or the Millers all night.

Everything in Europe is so much more sophisticated.
She smiled at him and settled herself against his solid body, his arm resting on her shoulders.

‘Where are Dad and Randy?’ she asked, seeing that Joachim was alone.

He grinned.

‘They enjoyed Herzoslovakian beer
very
much,’ he informed her. ‘It was very nice to see how much they enjoyed it. But then we came outside the beer hall and the cool air makes them feel suddenly very tired, so the driver takes them home and I think I will walk here to see how you are getting on.’

‘Oh no, they’ll have awful hangovers tomorrow!’ Lori said, wincing.

Joachim shrugged. ‘They can sleep for a long time,’ he said easily. ‘It is not a problem.’

His body was warm against hers, and it was lovely to feel his arm around her, smell his now-familiar scent. She snuggled in even closer, draping a leg daringly over his. They still hadn’t had sex yet; Lori had made an attempt at seducing Joachim after a romantic dinner, just as she had planned. But Joachim, taking her hands, kissing each of her fingertips in turn, his eyes wide and blue, had expressed how glad he was that she loved him and wanted to be with him in that way, but that, since she was being housed under his roof, it would not be proper for them to ‘live as man and wife’ before the ceremony.

Lori had doubtfully said that she understood what he was saying, but she still felt weird about it. Joachim had replied that things were different in Europe when a man really loved a woman, and they were especially different when a king respected a woman enough to want to make her his queen. Perhaps he was too serious, too old-fashioned – could she wait a little, could she forgive him for his scruples? But he wanted to be with her for ever, to marry her for life, just like her father was with her mother. He remembered that Lori had told him before how much that meant to her, that her father and mother had such a strong marriage: that was what he wanted for them.

These words, of course, had made her melt. It was what she wanted too: a marriage that would last for life. And though it definitely felt increasingly strange and frustrating to kiss her fiancé goodnight every evening, go to separate sets of rooms, and climb into a huge bed every night alone, often pulling out her Rabbit vibrator from the drawer of the bedside table (thank goodness
that
had not only been in her suitcase, but she’d gone straight to her room on arrival and unpacked the case herself!), she could also see that qualities like seriousness and an old-fashioned perspective were excellent ones to have in a husband.

And worth waiting for
, she thought now, cuddling up against him.
We’ve got the rest of our lives together – I can wait a couple of months if I have to.
She felt undeniably horny, pressed against her fiancé like this in a dark nightclub, with a few drinks in her and sexy music playing. But then she remembered the free-for-all at the Olympic Village, the near-orgies that had ensued after each medal ceremony, the drunk, lecherous guys perpetually coming on to her, not caring who she was, just that she was attractive female flesh, and she took a deep breath.

That’s not what I want. I’ve never had casual sex; I’ve always dated the guys. Nothing wrong with Shameeka having fun – and God knows she did in the Village! – but that’s just not me. I’ve found a guy who wants me for life, and I guess the price is that he comes with principles even more old-fashioned than mine.

She couldn’t help smiling at this thought: she’d never met a guy who’d turn down sex if you offered it to him on a plate. It just went to show how committed Joachim was, how important this marriage was to him. Like her, he wanted to do it once and do it right, as her mom always said.

Her heart full with happiness at the choice she’d made, the king who wanted to treat his queen so respectfully, Lori picked up Joachim’s hand and kissed the back of it. His arms tightened around her in response.

‘The girls are having fun, yes?’ he said, spotting Katya, Kristin and Hailey, who were surrounded by men egging them on to dance as sexily as possible, tossing their hair, wiggling their hips, arching their backs much more provocatively than the girls who were there in a more professional capacity. ‘Good, I see that my cousins take care of your sister.’

‘I’m not sure if I’d call it taking care,’ Lori said dryly, as an admirer summoned a waiter over with a tray of shots: the girls whooped, grabbed one each and clinked glasses before downing their contents.

‘Oh, they are young, they like to dance and have fun, it’s normal,’ Joachim said easily.

‘Wow,’ Lori said, twisting to look at his face. ‘I thought you’d be a bit more disapproving. They’re getting kinda smashed.’

He shrugged. ‘Katya and Kristin are only minor royalty,’ he said. ‘Like Prince Toby in Britain. They will not inherit, they are more free to dance and drink and enjoy the parties. I must be more careful, because I am the ruling king. And I am a very clever king, because I have picked a bride who is careful too. Serious. A lady. Who does not have more than two glasses of wine when she goes out in public, who sits politely instead of—’

‘Shaking her ass,’ Lori suggested, seeing that Joachim’s vocabulary did not quite stretch to describing his cousins’ and her sister’s antics.

He laughed and stroked Lori’s arm appreciatively. ‘Yes! You know, it is funny – I see you first jumping around in the sand, shaking your ass, as you say, wearing very few clothes. And yet there is something that tells me I want to meet you, and as soon as I do, I know you are the one for me. And for Herzoslovakia.’

Joachim was always saying wonderful things like that, things that made Lori’s heart melt with happiness. She was as careful with his and his country’s reputation as he said, and he was right: it came naturally to her. She had never been a big drinker or a big partier, being too serious about her sport, and not liking to lose control and make an idiot of herself. At last she had found somewhere that those qualities were prized, appreciated, rewarded. As the Queen of Herzoslovakia, her modest nature would finally be an asset, not a liability. She had been teased for it at high school and even more so when she went to college in Miami, a huge party town.