“Have you heard from anyone at the camp?” She hadn't in weeks, not since a letter from Mary Walker, and a postcard from Ushi. Neither had said much, other than that they missed her. They were guardedly waiting to see what happened, and expecting orders from Geneva. Meanwhile they were sitting tight.

“I had a card from Geoff. He didn't say much. I don't think they know anything yet. But if there's a full-scale war there again, it's going to be a mess. They'll probably have to get out, or risk some real dangers if they stay. They might join up with the UN forces at the border, but that will put them right in the line of fire. If they do that, they'll probably close the base in Senafe.” Just thinking of that made Christianna sad. She had been so happy there. And she was sadder still for the Eritreans she had come to love so much. Another war with Ethiopia would be a terrible thing for them. They had only just recovered from the last one. “Let's get back to us,” Parker called her to order. He had to go back to work. “Paris. You, me. Us …dinner, walking along the Seine, holding hands, kisses … making love … does any of that sound familiar or even enticing?” She laughed. It sounded irresistible, not just enticing. And all of it with the man she loved.

“Who can resist?” she asked with a smile in her voice.

“I hope you can't. When can you get away? What does your schedule look like?”

“I have to go to a wedding with my father in Amsterdam this weekend. The queen of Holland's niece is getting married, and my father is her godfather. But I think I'm free the following one,” she said practically, and he was laughing at her.

“You're the only woman I know, or ever will I guess, whose social calendar is taken up by kings and queens and princes. Other people have tickets to baseball games, or church socials. You, my love, are truly my fairy princess.”

“That is precisely the problem.” And he was her Prince Charming.

“Fine. I'm perfectly willing to play second fiddle to the queen of Holland. How about the weekend after?” She quickly flipped through her social calendar and nodded.

“I could do it.” She was free, and then she paused, worried. “I don't know what I'll tell my father.”

“Tell him you need to go shopping. That's always a good excuse.” It was, but she was worried her father would want to go with her. He loved taking her to Paris. And then suddenly she remembered, and her face lit up with excitement. She could do it.

“I just remembered. He's going to a sailing race in England that weekend, in Cowes. He'll be busy.” It always impressed Parker how devoted she was, and dismayed him at the same time.

“So are we on?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

She laughed and sounded young and free again, for the first time since she got home. “We're on, my love.” She felt like she had just gotten a reprieve. Three days in Paris with him. And after that, she'd live with all the burdens she had. Just three more days with him. It was like lifeblood to her. Seeing him was the air she needed to breathe.

They made their plans. And she told her secretary to make reservations at the Ritz in Paris. He was going to do the same. They couldn't risk sharing a room, in case someone squealed at the hotel. They could leave his room empty, or hers, but they had to register separately. She was grateful he had the money to do it, and was willing to.

She asked the head of security to assign Max and Samuel to her. She knew they would be discreet and leave her alone. It would be like a reunion for them after Senafe. She could hardly wait.

She left for her official duties that afternoon with a spring in her step. She was nicer than ever to the children, more patient than she'd ever been with the old people, kinder than she was usually with people who shook her hand, or gave her flowers or hugged her. And when she went out with her father to an official dinner that night, even he noticed how happy she was. He was relieved to see it. He had been worried about her. She had seemed so unhappy since she got home, even more so than before she left. He was almost beginning to regret he had ever let her go, if it had only worsened the problem, rather than curing it. She was tireless in her kindness to the people she spoke to that night, gracious, poised, patient, intelligent. She was the daughter to him he always knew she was. What he didn't know was all that she could think about now was Parker, and seeing him again. She was living for three days in Paris with him, and would have walked across burning coals to get there. Parker was the only thing keeping her going now, the strength he gave her fueled her, and the deep, heady essence of their love.





Chapter 15


Max and Samuel accompanied Christianna in the car to the airport in Zurich, and teased her about what a hardship assignment this was. They both loved traveling with her, enjoyed Paris, and it was a nice break from routine for them as well. It was almost as though the Three Musketeers were on the road again, even if not for long. They had no idea she was meeting Parker in Paris. She hadn't said anything to them. She didn't want anyone to know, not even them. She wanted no slip-ups, no mistakes. This wasn't a weekend in Qohaito, far from her father's eyes. This was very close to home for her, and she knew that one slip would bring the press on her in a minute. She and Parker were going to have to be infinitely careful and relentlessly discreet.

They arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris and were escorted through customs by the head of airport security, as they always were. A chauffeured car was waiting for her, and Max and Sam got in it with her. They no longer called her “Cricky” here, but had referred to her respectfully as “Your Highness” ever since they got home. It seemed strange to hear it from them now, but she accepted that.

One of the managers of the Ritz had already checked her in when she arrived, and she was taken to a beautiful suite looking out on the Place Vendôme. She stood impatiently, looking out at the beauty of the square, hung up a few things, ordered tea, paced nervously around the room, and then, almost like in a movie, there was a knock on her door. She opened it, and there he was, more beautiful than ever. Parker, in a blazer and slacks, open-necked blue shirt, and before she could even take a good look at him, she was in his arms. They kissed so passionately that the air nearly went out of both of them. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. They hadn't seen each other in two months. It was the end of September, and he had left at the beginning of August. She felt like a drowning person gasping for air. She was speechless with joy, when he finally pulled away a little to look at her.

“My God, you look so beautiful,” he said, overwhelmed himself. He was used to seeing her the way she looked in Senafe, with her hair in a braid, in shorts and hiking boots, without makeup or elegance. Now she was wearing a pale blue wool dress the same color as her eyes, and pearls at her neck and ears. And even high heels, she pointed out. And they didn't have to worry about snakes, he teased.

Everything about seeing each other was perfect. She had planned to go for a walk with him, or stop at a small café on the Left Bank. He had had the same idea, and instead they were in bed, tightly in each other's arms within minutes. They were like starving people who needed to be fed before they could do anything else. And their passion for each other had only increased in the two months they hadn't seen each other.

Afterward they lay sated and comfortable on the impeccably pressed sheets of her bed at the Ritz, looking up at the splendid details of the ceiling, and then back into each other's eyes. She couldn't stop kissing him, and he couldn't keep himself from holding her close. It was late afternoon before they finally got up, and shared a bath in the suite's huge bathtub. Being together was almost like a drug to which they had both become addicted, and now could not live without.

They finally made it out of the room, and walked first around the Place Vendôme and then around the Left Bank. Sam and Max had been stunned and delighted when they saw him, and then realized what the weekend was about. They kept a discreet distance and followed the young lovers as they walked and talked for hours. It was as though they had never been apart. They talked about the same topics they used to, he told her about his research project, she told him what she'd been doing in Vaduz. They talked about their time in Senafe, the people they had come to love there, their concerns for the laughing, generous Eritrean people. Neither of them mentioned Fiona, because it was just too sad. This was meant to be a happy time for them, and it was.

They had coffee at the Deux Magots, talked some more, and then went across the street to the church of St. Germain des Prés, lit candles, and prayed. Christianna lit her candles for the people of Eritrea and Senafe, for Fiona, and one for them as well, hoping that somehow they would find a solution to their problem, that maybe by some miracle her father would be reasonable and allow them to pursue their love. She knew it would take a miracle for that to happen. She was relieved to know that Parker was also Catholic, because that would have been a stumbling block to her father, and a big one, probably insurmountable. At least that was one obstacle they didn't have to deal with. They had so many others to worry about, fortunately religion wasn't one of them. The throne of Liechtenstein had been Catholic since the sixteenth century, and her father was profoundly devout about their faith.

They went back to the hotel afterward, and had to delay dinner when they made love again. It was ninethirty by the time Christianna was dressed in a white pantsuit and sweater she had bought the year before at Dior. She looked like a little angel, as she left the hotel again on his arm. Sam and Max were waiting outside with the car.