

Tudor Rose

by

Jamie Salisbury

Copyright © 2011 Jamie Salisbury

All Rights Reserved

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. . .the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. . .

Steve Jobs

This book is dedicated to all those who have encouraged me throughout this long journey.

## Chapter 1

I thought I retired from all this madness, this business. Obviously someone didn't get the memo. Instead, I'm sitting in First Class winging deep into the abyss. This time, though, I won't be resuming my previous position of manager/publicist extraordinaire. No, I'm returning as the personal body guard to Amadeus Tudor, rock star royalty. Tudor is part of a musical dynasty, three siblings, each achieving a level of fame more often than not seen only once in a lifetime. After I retired, I also left Amadeus and his band, Tudor Rose, without a manager or publicist. I waited until the end of the tour, hoping he would hire someone new after taking a break. My idea backfired; he sank into a deep depression.

Why would a woman be chosen to watch after one of the most sought after men in the entertainment business? My unique relationship with Amadeus. He trusts me more than anyone. I've spent hours training to handle any situation, so the fact I'm female rather than a man is not an issue.

It was Amadeus's record label that contacted me. They begged me to help pick up the pieces. I refused the first five times Robert Dunn called. Finally, I caved; Amadeus was refusing to tour without me. I've witnessed Amadeus emerge from a teenage boy to the man he is today, and over all the years together, we've formed a special relationship and love that is inaccessible by others. A bond that brings me back.

My life away has been filled with a lot of travel. Funny as it sounds I have spent years traveling with Amadeus and his band wandering the world on tour. You don't manage to catch a glimpse of the sights much less anything else. After tying up loose ends and after selling my business, I set off on a dream trip, an amazing journey to Patagonia, Chile. For the first time in years I actually relaxed. After six months, I returned to New York.

I meet with Robert in Manhattan about replacing the money grabbers. Somebody Amadeus will trust and work with and accept. We decide on Artie Bowman because he's been around the business for years. He's highly respected, with an impressive track record and knows Amadeus. He managed Amadeus's older brother's band, Rypp Tyde until Damien suffered a serious stroke at age twenty-nine and was forced to retire.

The three of us meet a couple of days later. They realize I'm on board, having my own reservations about getting back into a business I thought I had put behind me. They also know I'm fiercely loyal to Amadeus and count on that as they confide in me the other reason.

"Zara," Robert began, "someone is trying to hurt Amadeus. That's why I want you on the tour."

"What do you mean someone's out to harm him?" I ask. "Any idea who might be behind this? Has something happened?" They both shake their heads.

"Not exactly, but this was intercepted at the house Amadeus is renting in L.A." Robert pushes something to me.

I read the note and turn the paper over. It says: ' _Amadeus will never make it to the end of the tour._ ' I put my head down on the table and groan. _Damn!_

"Yes?" Robert inquired.

"Get me a first class ticket," I reply, kicking myself in the butt for what is coming out of my mouth.

"Zara, you're the best! You won't regret joining us," Artie exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Boys, this isn't going to be cheap, even if I am doing this for Amadeus. Now, unless you've something more to tell me, I've got a lot to do. Call me when you get the flight arranged. I guess I'll meet the two of you in L.A." I leave the meeting, shaking my head. _Well,_ I told myself, _at least this will look fabulous on your resume!_

***

Not unlike the court of a sixteenth century Henry XIII, this clan of rock aristocracy lives in excess and to the fullest. Heck, an ongoing rumor out in the stratosphere claims that this modern day version is related to ol' Henry Whether real or simply the fabrication of some publicity mill, this Tudor clan lives and breathes every word of it.

William Tudor, the patriarch of the family, came to the United States from England as a young lad of six. His story is not one of a poor immigrant, but rather one of quite a different start. Henry Tudor, his father, was dispatched to Washington, D.C. to work with the British Ambassador. He was eighteen at the time his dad was reassigned. With his parents blessing, he remained in his adopted country, enrolling in college. Upon graduation, William accepted a position as an engineer with an aircraft manufacturer in Seattle. He soon found himself on the opposite side of the country without Grace, a young American woman he'd met while in college. First chance he got, William traveled back to Virginia and they married.

The vibrant beauty, Grace abandoned her fledgling career as a concert pianist to follow her heart. She and William had five children, three boys and two girls. They had what most would call an idyllic childhood, raised in a prominent Seattle suburb, going to the best schools, excelling at everything they touched.

***

Preparation for any tour is a monumental undertaking. It takes months of careful planning to pull it off. Since opening night is going to be in L.A. at the Staples Center, Amadeus decides to move rehearsals to California instead of Seattle as they previously have.

Amadeus has rented a house on the beach in Malibu, allowing him to get away and relax before the mayhem begins and to focus without the circus. This is where I'm staying, giving us time to catch up.

Arriving in Los Angeles Artie meets me at LAX, and we make the long drive to Malibu through the daily smog choked freeways of L.A. I'm grateful he's taken the time to come to the airport, so he can fill me in on everything. We determine the easiest way for me to blend in will be as Amadeus's love interest. Attention doesn't need to be drawn to Amadeus having a bodyguard. He's never had one, and the rumor mills will crank up if he appears to have one now. So far, Artie thinks no one is aware of the threats other than a handful of people. Should folks remember me, I won't draw attention. The assumption is our relationship changed; therefore, I resigned.

I smile as a familiar figure comes running through the door as we pull into the beach front property. He doesn't appear much different since the last time. In fact, he appears healthier and more in shape than I remember.

"Zara!" he says, beaming. "It's so good to see you. You look fantastic. Rest and relaxation agrees with you." He leans over and kisses me on the lips, as he holds on to me in an unusually long embrace. Every part of my body quivers at his touch, signifying to me what feelings I keep secretly hid, are intensely genuine.

"You, well Amadeus, you look incredible," I gush, afraid my face is giving me away. And he did, no lie. "I guess time off agreed with you, also." He's a handsome man with tall, long, dark brown, almost black hair and piercing lapis blue eyes. He's aware of his rugged good looks but has never flaunted them. Most of his peers in the biz would be out screwing everything that came their way. Not Amadeus.

We walk, his arm tightly around me as Artie follows with my luggage.

"Would you like me to show you to the guest room? If not, I'm going to leave. The two of you obviously have a lot to catch up on." Artie pretends not to pick up on any vibes arising in the house.

"No, thanks though, Artie."

"You sure won't stay?" Amadeus asks.

"No, a ten-year-old is expecting me at a softball game I dare not miss."

"Go on, enjoy yourself," I respond. "How is young mister Tristan these days?"

"He's growing like nobody's business and thinks he knows everything."

"Well, tell him his "auntie Zara" says hello."

"I will," he responds as he leaves Amadeus and me to get reacquainted. Like riding a bike, easy.

I glance around my surroundings. Typical California contemporary with a wall of windows overlooking the ocean. White and crisp against the magnificent blue of the Pacific. I realize how much I miss the laid back California lifestyle. Nowhere else is remotely similar. I grew up here and took it all for granted until I formed my publicity firm and moved to Manhattan. Not that I don't enjoy Manhattan with all the hustle and bustle of a large city. I guess that's why they're on opposite ends of the country; they're both unique.

I sit down on the over-sized sofa, waiting for Amadeus to return from showing Artie out. A white baby grand piano beckons from a corner. There's a decided lack of accessories, the exception being a hand-blown glass bowl on the coffee table and a couple pieces placed strategically throughout. An absence of art work on the walls, no books. Quite sparse indeed. Very impersonal. Amadeus returns with bottles of Italian sparkling water. He sits in a leather chair across from me. I'm amazed at how good he appears. He asserts a confidence I haven't seen in a long time. Not the Amadeus described to me. The two of us discuss what I should expect as the launch date looms even closer.

"Now you know the role I'm playing here, don't you? In fact, someone should check out the places beforehand. That way it won't look strange if Amadeus's girl is poking around, going through hotel ball rooms and the like."

I catch Amadeus out of the corner of my eye. He's leaning back in the chair, hands folded behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, smiling. "Well, any girl of mine wouldn't be on her own skulking through places, she'd be with me, Zara." He looks in toward me, those deep blue eyes locked right on me.

It's quite late in the afternoon, and I'm starving. Amadeus picks up on this, or perhaps the loud, obnoxious gurgling noises my stomach is making give him a hint. We aren't dressed to go out. He's wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and his longish raven hair is shorter than the last time I'd seen him. _Earth to Zara! Dinner!_

"You hungry? I thought we'd eat here tonight. You remember once we're on the road, it's going to be all hotel, restaurant food, or junk."

"Sounds good. What are you thinking?"

"Steaks on the grill, that sort of thing."

"Well, come on let's get started," I tease. "I'm still on N.Y. time, which means it's way past my dinner time!"

The two of us make an excellent team getting our meal together. This is something we haven't done in a long time. Simply hanging out. I realize I've missed having this quiet, uninterrupted time with him.

Sitting on the massive cedar deck facing the Pacific later in the evening, recovering from the enormous dinner we consumed, I catch myself watching folks walk on the beach. Finally, I decide a long, leisurely stroll is called for. Amadeus needs no convincing. We head to the water's edge and start walking, the chilly surf lapping over our feet. This one single act always gives me immense pleasure. We chat as we walk. The sun is an enormous majestic ball of deep pink and purple on the horizon.

"Zara, I want to hear all about this trip you took. I can't believe you went to Patagonia by yourself!"

I glance over at him. He's right next to me, walking and watching me.

"I was fine. I needed to get away and decompress if that make sense."

"Totally, except Patagonia is at the end of the earth."

"It's always been a place I wanted to go. And it was everything I dreamt it would be. The land is unspoiled, wild, almost spiritual. The most amazing place ever!" I smile over at him. A flood of emotions hit me again. Evidentially, I was just too busy to recognize them before.

He's watching me, the emotion on his face changes, almost as he feels something of the way I'm feeling. "I remember Patagonia was on your "bucket" list of places you wanted to visit. You want to go back?"

"Yes. There's so much left to explore. In fact, I downloaded pictures on my laptop to show you."

"Cool."

We lazily return. A large number of people are still out, surfers, families with kids, and others like us, soaking in the California lifestyle. I make a mental note to myself; a well-muscled man, perhaps in his mid-thirties could be cause for concern, as I observed as he walked by the house when Amadeus and I were on the deck earlier. A while later, I notice him go by as we are walking away and now again, sitting in the sand, appearing to delight in the sunset. His presence may be as he appears, but I spotted him, which is good enough for me to file his face in my memory bank.

Time gets away from us as we sit catching up, talking about nothing in particular. I glance down at my watch and realize that it's almost two in the morning.

"Come on Zara, let me show you to your room. I know this has been a long day for you."

He shows me to the bedroom, which is next to his. He walks in ahead of me and turns on a lamp. He hesitates for a moment before taking me in his arms, leaning over and gently kissing me on the lips. We gaze at each other, as if uncertain how to proceed. This time he takes charge, nudging my lips apart with his as his tongue begins to probe and explore, an endless tangle of tongues and lips that leaves me breathless. I wrap my arms around him as the kiss becomes fervent. I eagerly respond, kissing him back, wanting more. The moment ends with him holding me, one hand grasped behind my head. Frustrated, he holds on then slowly releases his grip.

"I'm sorry, Zara, but I can't hide my feelings, no, I won't hide my feelings anymore."

"Don't apologize. I don't want you to."

"It's late. We both need to get some sleep. I'm so glad you're here. I'm in the next room if you need anything." He kisses me before turning and walking out.

"Amadeus?" I walk toward the door, and his muscular body reappears.

"Yeah?" he asks, those incredible blue eyes drawing me into his trance.

I can't open my mouth, the sexual tension between us is so thick. My eyes can't leave his. He's so close I believe I may smother. "I, uh, I just wanted to say good night." God, Zara, what a crock, I tell myself. You want him so bad you aren't making sense.

He cocks his head, curiously eyeing me, very aware of the underlying current, looking down at me. "Baby, you have no idea how much I want you. It's taking every ounce of control I have to stand here and act like a gentleman when what I really want to do is gather you in my arms, throw you on the bed, and fuck you senseless."

Our eyes are still locked. I detect him draw a deep breath, not touching, just staring down at me.

I slowly raise my arms around his neck and pull myself closer, whispering in his ear, "Don't hold back on my account." Our mouths meet, devouring each other. Placing his hands on my rear to lift me, I throw my legs around his waist. He carries me to the bed, laying me in the middle. Together we rip off our clothes as fast as we can. He bends over, kissing me, moving his tongue along my neck to my ear, whispering, "Spread your legs for me, baby." He eases himself between them as he pushes into me slowly, relentlessly. I gasp as his sheer size stretches me to accommodate him.

"God, baby, I've waited so long for this." He raises up on his elbows, staring down at me, groaning. "You feel so fucking good."

I raise my hips to accommodate him. "We really are together A."

"Yes, baby, I'm here forever." He runs his hand down my body, then under my ass, bringing himself even deeper. He plunges in again, harder, sinking deeper each time.

I feel my body pulsing with his unable to prevent or control what is happening. "I need you, God, yes, Amadeus please...."

Opening my eyes, he's staring down at me as he slides a hand between us. "Come with me, baby."

The rest is a blur of ecstasy and pleasure I have never felt. I feel him drive as deep as he can, releasing his seed deep into the abyss of my womb. This single act changes our relationship forever.

Wrapping his arms around me and dragging me against his chest, the two of us cling to each other.

"Zara, that was incredible." He bends over, and we kiss slowly.

"Mmmm." I feel tears well up in my eyes and he takes notice, pulling my hair away from my face.

"You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," I answer. But the tears start flowing, and I can't stop them.

"Zara, come on, tell me." His face is etched with concern.

"What the hell is wrong with us, Amadeus? Why have we been so stupid hiding our feelings for each other?" He pulls me back against him once more.

"That's in the past now, baby. Let's put it behind us and work on the present and our future, okay?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for keeping a wall between us for so long. I promise I'll make it up to you." I feel his arms tighten. I kiss his chest, looking up at him.

"Be careful what you promise, love, because I will take you up on it." He chuckles, pulling me closer.

## Chapter 2

The beginning of the tour is crazy as usual. I've forgotten how hectic things could be. The Staples Center sold out an hour after tickets went on sale. I once again thank my lucky stars, or whatever, I'm not involved in the madness.

Among the VIP guests tonight, are William and Grace Tudor. They have a long standing tradition to attend the opening concert, their way of showing support for their sons. They're not hard to cater to, unlike the parents of many celebrities, who want to be in the middle of everything. Their only desire is to visit Amadeus and wish him and his band well. They don't stick around after the show or attend the after-parties. Instead, they return to their hotel room and become invisible before returning to their lives.

I volunteer to hang with them tonight, a familiar face. Since I'm not involved in the details of running this show, I can kick back with them, and I can't wait. I wonder what kind of response I'll get. I hate having to lie to them, but they will only worry about Amadeus if they were privy to the real reason I'm there.

I meet up with them as they arrive from their hotel. Artie makes sure a limo picks them up and brings them to the arena where they are met and ushered backstage. I enter the dressing room they are waiting in with a knock. Grace just walks up, smiling and arms extended. She's the epitome of elegance and refinement, soft spoken, well educated, just as I remember, having always reminded me of Jacqueline Kennedy or Grace Kelly.

"Zara, we understand you and Amadeus are together! I told William I wasn't surprised, given all the time the two of you spent over the years. Let me look at you. It's been an eternity!"

William interjects before I can answer, rolling his eyes. "That's Grace, Zara, straight to the point."

"It's okay. And yes, far too much time has passed. I missed you both; I hadn't realized how much." I hug them and continue. "Amadeus and the boys are down the hall. Artie finally got everyone out of the room in order that they have some quiet time. If you're ready, we'll meet up with him, and afterwards, we can make our way to the sky box to enjoy the show."

"A box?" William inquires.

"Yep, one of the perks of doing a show in a large arena, usually with a huge spread of food, and you can enjoy everything a little more comfortably."

"Well, let's get started." He laughs and holds the door open for us.

We walk down the passage and find where Amadeus and his close knit band are situated. It's fairly quiet until we enter the room. Everyone stops to welcome the elder Tudors. The young men are like extended family to the Tudors. As with the three sons they raised and encouraged into the entertainment industry, Grace and William think no differently of the other band members. I sit down and enjoy the reunion unfolding before me like I'm watching for the first time. The inevitable is coming, though.

"So, now you two," Grace begins, "how long has this been going on? Or did we just overlook it?

I jump in with a mentally prepared answer, "Not until after the last tour. We stayed in touch, and one thing led to another."

"Yep," Amadeus agrees, his arm tightly holding on to me, "and once this tour started to unfold, we decided since Zara wasn't working, she should join me on the road and let things develop."

Grace looks both of us over, first Amadeus, then me and back to Amadeus. "I expect when you're in Seattle, Amadeus, you and Zara will join us for dinner. Your schedule indicates you will be in town for a couple of days. So don't forget."

Amadeus grins at his mother and replies with a mock salute, "Yes, ma'am!"

Grace throws her son her best scowl and lands a blow on his arm.

Artie pokes his head in to give us the signal to get up to the box. Amadeus takes things a step further and kisses me in front of his parents as we leave.

We arrive at the sky box and settle in before the show. We find our seats in front of the enormous window and take in the massive crowd below. I'm totally immersed in people watching when a voice behind me asks if I'd like something to drink. I turn, and standing in person, is the guy from the beach. I try not to appear startled and nod. All the time I'm making mental notes to myself. I manage to snap a picture of him with my cell phone from across the room. I text Artie and forward the photo and tell him to be on the lookout for this guy, in case he shows up back stage.

Grace picks up on my change in attitude.

"Everything all right, Zara?" she asks.

"Yes, yes. I forgot I was supposed to let Artie know we've settled in."

The rest of the night seems as though it will never end. Tudor Rose's performance is stellar. Then I might be a bit prejudiced.

After the show, I walk William and Grace to the limo which will take them back to their hotel. She hugs me before she enters the car, but not before I promise we'll see them in Seattle. I breathe a sigh of relief. I find Artie and mention to him my concerns. He meets up with me back stage in the dressing room Tudor Rose had used earlier. Amadeus is following behind as they enter.

I convey the encounter with the gentleman in question. How I'd seen him on the beach and tonight at the arena. For the time being, this will be treated as a coincidence. Artie agrees to check with the arena's catering service, using the photo I took to find out whether he's employed by them. If he isn't, we'll be extra vigilant and on the lookout for him.

The after party is packed and noisy with an extraordinary amount of people. Conversation with anyone is difficult. I hold on to Amadeus's arm as we weave our way through the crowd, so we don't get separated. Finally, he grabs my hand, looking back at me as he does; he smiles and slows his pace down to accommodate the shorter steps I take. He and his band mates give each other a sign indicating they're all ready to leave.

The two of us climb into a waiting limo and head back to Malibu, neither of us saying a word. He's seated on my left, his long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes are closed, unaware he's being studied. Amadeus breaks the silence with his rendition of an old Janis Joplin song, knowing I won't be able to maintain a straight face. I bust out laughing halfway through the first verse. His total annihilation of the song lightens our mood. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, drawing me close, kissing my face before placing a soft kiss on my lips.

Driving up, I note the house is lit up. I turn to Amadeus and ask him whether he left any lights on or if there was a timer. He shakes his head of dark hair. I don't possess a good feeling about this, and I nervously take a quick look back over at him before we get out of the limo.

Amadeus opens the front door and walks in first. I get close behind. We reach the living room and find the sliding glass doors wide open. It appears not to have been disturbed. We continue through the first floor and find not a thing out of the ordinary. Climbing the stairs, we make our way to the bedrooms. To our horror, two seem to be ransacked. Clothes thrown throughout the rooms, contents of suitcases tossed about like trash, drawers pulled from the dresser and scattered.

"We need to get out of the house, alert the authorities." He nods his head in agreement. I start to pick up a favorite top which is ripped to shreds off the ground, but he grabs me before I can.

"Don't touch anything. Come on, let's go." He leads me away from the scene, down the stairs, and outdoors. The idea of somebody having been through our things almost makes me sick.

Once outside, I contact local police. Amadeus is pacing nervously around the drive, impatiently waiting for the authorities. I sit on a small concrete bench located next to the front door. They pull in minutes later. We talk with an investigator while his officers are in surveying the scene. I reveal to him the reason I think someone wishes to harm Amadeus as I begin to tell him about the mysterious man. I show him the photo I took earlier, and he asks me forward the picture to his phone.

As I'm talking with him, I realize Artie is there. Amadeus probably called him. The two of them walk over toward us. Artie introduces himself.

"Mr. Bowman, I was asking Ms. Middleton if she and Mr. Tudor could identify what may be missing."

Amadeus interjects before anyone can answer. "We turned around and got out as soon as we discovered the bedrooms had been trashed."

"Okay, I need the two of you to go inside and determine if anything's missing. Obviously, whoever broke in was after something specific."

We agree and walk into the house. I leave him at the doorway of his bedroom and enter where I have my things. The men aren't far behind, each of them walking from room to room, waiting to see what we might find.

I don't know how to make sense of the chaos around me, but I start looking for obvious items anyone could take. The bag with my laptop is nowhere to be found and it's not sitting next to the bedside table. It's gone.

"Artie!" I call out. They all run into the room. I sit down on the bed, as this is something I'm not prepared for.

"Zara? What?" Artie shouts. "What's missing?"

"The laptop, it was in the satchel along with the planner and address book I keep."

"Show me the last place you had the bag," the detective asks.

"Next to the night stand," I answer, pointing to the spot I had last seen the satchel. The three men look around the room.

"Anything else?"

"No. Strange, but who ever took my laptop left my camera bag." I point toward my camera bag, which is larger than most because of all the lenses and accessories I carry, and is sitting in the exact spot I left it. "Amadeus, what about you?"

He shakes his head and sits down next to me on the bed. "No, I'm not finding anything missing."

The hour is quite late by now. We're departing in just a couple of hours, and we haven't slept.

## Chapter 3

I, for one, am glad Los Angeles is in the rear view mirror. The convoy pulls out at dawn. Too keyed up from the break in, sleep is impossible. We straighten the bedrooms up and repack our personal items, the majority of our luggage in its place on the truck. Sleeping on a bus or airplane is an exercise I can't master, but today, no problem; I'm exhausted.

Ahead of our departure, Artie and I get Red, the tour manager, and tell him what happened. I have always wondered why this goliath of a man is called Red as he doesn't have crimson hair. He's been in charge of Tudor Rose's last three tours. Despite all his duties, he's one of the most observant people in a world where others would reveal what appears to be insignificant events and either drop or not pick up on subtle details. We leave Red more at ease than we were before.

Artie isn't coming along. He will meet up with us at some of the larger cities. We say our good-byes, and I climb on Amadeus's tour bus. Tudor Rose uses two buses, one for Amadeus and the other for the rest of the band and crew.

Amadeus is inside, seated at a table reading a newspaper, drinking coffee. He's always been a news junkie, keeping himself up to date on current events. I walk over and sit down across from him as the coach begins to move.

"Everything okay?" He said.

I nod my head as I'm scanning the bus. It's quiet, no one with us except the driver. I notice he's someone who's been with Amadeus before. Not surprising, Amadeus's crew has been with him for years, as he's not a prima donna, making everyone's job that much easier.

Amadeus holds up a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee. "This what you're looking for?" He grins at me as he passes the steaming beverage my way. As I reach for it, he lays his fingers on top of mine before releasing the mug to me. I encounter an old feeling running through me at his touch.

"Thanks," I reply.

"That stuff will stunt your growth, you know," he teases.

"Yes, but it'll be worth every inch, and I don't see you practicing what you preach." I sit back in my seat, trying to appear smug.

Finally, I put the cup down. "Amadeus, you have to get some sleep before we arrive this afternoon. Chaos will ensue after that."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll try and nap over in one of those." I point over to the large chair across from us.

He leans over the table toward me. "No, I don't think so, Zara." He sits back now, a smug grin on his face. His dark hair frames his features fully.

"What do you have in mind, A?" 'A' is a nickname he's had for years, and only close friends or family use it or even know it.

"Come and I'll show you," he answers, rising from his spot.

I get up and follow him to the private suite at the rear of the bus. He closes the door. The room is well thought out, containing a bed with a dressing area. Not as fancy as other buses, but serves the purpose.

Amadeus sits on the side, removing his shoes. He pats a spot next to him. I sit next to him, the exhaustion, slumber creeping in.

"Come on, Zara, this is a huge bed, and as much as I would like to, um, we both need to sleep."

I remove my shoes. He has moved up on the bed, taking pillows and moving to one side. I make myself comfortable, watching him. He seems to be amused. He's always teased me. All I know is I want to sleep. Of course, he isn't finished.

"Zara, I thought you liked being alone with me." He laughs as he pokes a finger at me.

"Amadeus?"

"Yeah, what?" He's having way too much fun with this.

"Shut up and go to sleep." I hold one of the pillows and hit him. I lie down and turn over. I can't look at him. My face will betray me.

Sometime later I wake. I hope we've slept more than an hour or two. I haven't moved since I fell asleep. Amadeus is directly behind me, an arm tightly encircling. _This is pleasant_ , I think to myself. I lie motionless, and as I begin move, the embrace tightens.

"Hello, sleepy head."

"What time is...?" I inquire, enjoying our closeness.

"Late. Did it help?"

"Too soon to tell. Have you been awake long?" I ask him.

"No." His arm still holding me, he pulls me back against him. We lie in silence for a moment. I recognize the warmth of his lips kissing my neck and ear. His hand is caressing my breast. I moan as he moves under the shirt and bra, exploring his prize.

"Zara," he whispers, pulling me closer against his chest. "I want you, baby."

"Mmmmm, yes," I reply. "I want you, too."

He leans over and covers my mouth with his slowly, the intensity growing. Neither of us utters a word, until the bus comes to a stop, breaking the magic between us.

"Fuck," he mutters, aware we've reached our destination or close to it. He stares down at me as if he wants advice. "I don't believe this."

Kissing him, I put myself back together, but before he opens the door, he bends closer and whispers, "We will continue this in a more proper setting later." I smile and follow him.

We're stuck on the coach waiting until all is in order, and we know exactly where we will stay. Neither of us has eaten, and it could be a while, but A has a plan.

"You hungry, Zara? There's some pastrami sandwiches in the fridge with our names on them."

Pastrami, Amadeus's favorite sandwich. He'll haunt a city out to find the best deli when on tour.

"Sounds good." I start toward the door, Amadeus in tow.

I walk to the kitchenette area and open the refrigerator. I spy the sandwiches in a bag and hand them to him as I grab a couple of bottles of water. We sit at the table eating in silence.

"Well, what do you think, Zara? What's the game plan for tonight?"

I glance over at him, trying to get a handle on his emotions. "Red will go over the site and report his findings, if any, back to me. Everyone is going to be watching out for that fella."

"And?" he asks quietly.

"I honestly think this man is smart. He won't appear tonight. My opinion and my opinion only, he'll wait."

"Wait for what? What does he want?"

"I have no idea. I can't come up with a reason yet. And I know you well enough. Everyone loves you." I'm trying to reassure him. His face always gives his emotions away when we're together. He's concerned, nervously picking at part of his sandwich. For the first time, he's let his guard down.

"No one filled me in on a key issue. When did this start?" I ask.

"I thought Robert covered everything with you. The weird stuff started after the last tour after you left. Prior to Artie signing on."

"Artie and Robert showed me the note, but was there anything before? Anything you can remember, Amadeus, no matter how trivial you think it might be could help me."

"Zara, you're aware I'm insulated from some things. I believe Angus even had weird stuff happen after Damien had his stroke. I can't recall exactly what, but if I remember right, that's when little things started happening."

"Why didn't you tell me back then?"

"We thought of it as silly stuff. Pranks."

He reaches across the table and puts his hand on my forearm. "It was nothing, Zara. Don't worry."

"I need to know, no matter how insignificant. I'll speak with Angus when we meet up with him." Angus and Interpol, his group, will be joining up with Tudor Rose a few times on this tour, like they usually do.

***

This tour is no different from the previous ones. Cities and faces are a blur, and any sense of time becomes lost in the mayhem. The operation moves like a well-oiled machine. Being Amadeus's security detail, I've kept a tighter hand on the behind the scene antics. Access to the band and back stage is critically scrutinized by Red and me. Girls and unauthorized visitors are a non-issue. With the exception of Amadeus, what the rest of Tudor Rose does after returning to the hotel is their business as long as they are punctual in the morning. I note a couple of detractors among them who think I'm overly zealous.

One stop in the east is no different from any of the venues before, until after the show. A couple of local radio stations are hosting their own "after-party" in one of this area's clubs. Unbeknownst to me, band members committed themselves to attend. I'm standing outside their dressing room, letting them change. Red approaches me, an enormous Cheshire cat grin on his face.

"Zara, let the others go on to the party. Amadeus needs to stay put. Somebody wants to speak with him, and he's really important."

"He must be by the look on your face, Red. Who is our mystery guest?"

"You'll recognize him the minute you lay eyes on him. Let me get the guys to the limo." The burly man walks in and moments later exits with the band. "You go ahead and wait with Amadeus. I'll be right back."

Amadeus is sitting on a sofa, bare chested, drinking a bottle of water. He jumps up as I enter. "We ready to leave?" he asks, taking a dry shirt from me.

"No, evidently someone Red claims is very important wants to speak with you."

"Who?"

I shrug my shoulders. "No idea, Red's being quite coy about the matter, but by the expression on his face, someone quite famous."

A knock on the door ends our conversation. Red pokes his head in, his enthusiasm alluring as he walks in. Behind him is a man I only ever dared dream about meeting. He's been an idol of mine since I was a teenager. Peter McNichol!

He approaches Amadeus and introduces himself. The two shake hands as he turns his attention toward me. I can't believe I'm shaking his hand! Formalities aside, I invite our guest to sit.

"I wasn't aware you were in the States," I begin, hoping I don't sound like the village idiot.

"Yes, I'm on holiday actually. I heard Amadeus would be playing here tonight and thought I'd pop in." He glances in Amadeus's direction. "I'm a huge fan. You're quite a gifted songwriter, not to mention singer."

"Thanks," Amadeus replies, "that means a lot. Zara and I are big fans of your music as well, but I guess you hear that a lot."

Our guest laughs, continuing, "Yeah, I do. Seriously, the reason I wanted to meet up with you is because I'd like for us to collaborate musically. Would you be interested? I realize you're on this tour, but we can get together when you take a break or something. I'd love to sit down and brain storm, see what we might create."

"Yes, I certainly am."

"Terrific, how about our people talk and make arrangements?"

"Instruct your guys to call Zara directly as the band isn't involved in this. She used to be my manager and publicist."

"Yes, I remember." He turns toward me as he continues, "You're quite good. John here will give you all the numbers and such, and you can do the same." He motions his head in the direction of a man standing at the doorway with Red. "Well, then, I guess we're done. I'm looking forward to our next visit." He gets up from his chair, shakes hands again with the two of us. He disappears into the bowels of the building. Amadeus and I are standing next to each other, trying to comprehend what just happened. I'm holding a business card containing information which promises to add another notch to Amadeus's skyrocketing career.

Our decision not to share our meeting of the night before with the members of Tudor Rose almost blows up in our faces. Word gets to them about it, and upon arrival at our next stop, they blindside Amadeus with bitchy comments and accusations. The subject has grown like a painful boil among them all day, and by the time they confront Amadeus, the abscess has burst and the ugly pus flows freely. Amadeus stands his ground and squishes the scorpion quickly.

"Look, I'll tell you again, y'all chose to attend the party. Had you hung around you would have met him. too. If I'd left with you, I would have missed him. Deal with it for God's sake! Stop acting like a bunch of pathetic, jealous crybabies."

He turns and walks away, knowing his anger is beginning to boil within, and any further discussion could only do harm. Taking hold of my arm he navigates us through the hotel corridors to our room.

***

Seattle is just days out, which is significant as it marks the halfway point of the tour. Everyone is ready for some R and R.

The man I saw in L.A. hasn't shown up at any of the concerts so far, but I'm not letting my guard down. The incident at the house in Malibu left me with an uncomfortable sense something else will happen, and when I encounter these feelings, I listen to them.

Tonight's concert is going to be at an outdoor venue, and logistically they can sometimes be difficult. Being outside, there is no actual structure to protect everyone. The band has to use one of the buses for a dressing room, and security has to be more vigilant as people always manage to find a way into the "backstage" area.

Artie is joining us this evening. He called yesterday and said he needed some face time with everyone. It must be important, because he makes a point of only attending concerts at the larger venues. His unplanned visit is testing everyone. Tonight our hotel is booked to capacity due to other events in town. Artie is taking the spare room, which happens to be adjoining to ours.

We're just settling in when Artie knocks at the door joining the two rooms. We look at each other as Amadeus rolls his eyes and opens the door. Artie enters and says he's having a meeting with the band shortly, but wants to take Amadeus up to speed beforehand. He plops down on one of the upholstered chairs in the room and places his case on the floor. He opens the case and brings out a legal document. I sit at the table and start making notes on Amadeus's laptop that we're now sharing. Amadeus pulls a chair up next to me as he indiscreetly eyes what I'm typing.

Artie holds the paper up. "We've all expected this, so this should be of no surprise to anyone. Julia's filed a suit prohibiting you, Amadeus, and Tudor Rose from performing any of Damien's or Rypp Tydes' songs." Unfolding the papers, Amadeus inspects the contents.

The boys selected the play list for the night's show, adding selections from their upcoming album as well as older songs the fans always clamor for. Since Damien's stroke made it impossible for him to tour, and his band, Rypp Tyde, self-destructed, the group usually performs a couple of their tunes. But Julia, Damien's wife, is making a nightmare out of something which should be a non-issue.

"A cease and desist order?" I ask.

"Exactly," Artie replies. "Like I said, we've been expecting this. I just wanted to personally come and tell you."

"Thanks," Amadeus injects. "I understand this, but at the same time, I don't understand why Julia thinks she needs to take such drastic steps. Damien is in control of his mental facilities and can make his own decisions. The stroke left him physically impaired, not mentally." He shakes his head and folds the document up before handing on to me.

"True," Artie continues, "however, I have learned Julia has full control of Damien's affairs, personal and professional."

"Well, we'll just substitute our songs in place of Rypp Tyde's as we planned if this happened. Then I guess we need to sort this out with her." Amadeus is staring at me.

"Why don't we make a point of going to visit Julia and Damien while we are in Seattle next week?" I reach out and squeeze his arm. He puts his hand over mine as I do. None of this is lost on Artie as I catch him out of the corner of my eye watching us.

"Good idea, Zara." Artie replies. "Do you want me to set things up?"

"No, I will when we get to Seattle," Amadeus interjects. "Maybe she'll be more receptive should a family member call her. On the other hand, she may not respond to such a gesture, no matter who calls."

"He's right, Artie," I pointed out.

"Yes, okay, we'll do things your way, Amadeus. The boys should be in my room shortly." With our business finished Artie leaves us, and Amadeus walks over and locks the door.

***

Did I mention I hate outdoor events? They're usually hot and humid. I'm standing outside getting some fresh air. A couple of the boys are smokers and do so inside, and the smoke is thick, making breathing difficult. I'm people watching when I spot him. The man from L.A.! He's mingling in the backstage area. I see he's got a pass attached to his shirt, which allows him access. I don't react, I continue to stand as I have been, but I'm watching his every move now. How did he get a pass? The door opens and every one come out; they're up next. The sudden movement of everyone exiting the coach interrupts any train of thought I hold, and I miss him. I struggle to find him again. Amadeus walks up beside me, putting his arm around me, staring in the direction I'm focused on.

"Who are you trying to find?" he asks, leading me away.

"No one, I guess I was mistaken."

We head toward the stage area, still in the process of being changed over. Amadeus and Tudor Rose are in one area talking with some local media relations. I walk over to the side, so I can look at the crowd. What I observe stuns me. Artie is standing in the front area cordoned off for VIPs talking to the stranger from L.A.! I can't tell from the space I'm at if he's spotted him and approached him or what. No, he's acting way too familiar to be confronting the man. His body language indicates the two men are not strangers. They both seem quite comfortable talking. I decide to tell no one. I want to see if Artie mentions this.

Artie makes his way to the boys just before they hit the stage and gives them his usual manager pep talk. As the band is being announced, Amadeus strolls over to me and kisses me on the lips for what seems to be an eternity. He winks at me as he walks away. Artie doesn't say a thing either about the kiss or our person of interest I spied him talking to earlier. He's running around to check on things during the show. The bright lights are blinding, making zeroing in on the mystery villain hard.

Red approaches me toward the end of the boys' set.

"Having a good time, Zara? Act normal when I tell you what I'm about to. The guy from L.A.? I spotted him plus I have seen Artie with him."

"Same here, and Artie hasn't mentioned running into him."

"What do you want to do?"

"Keep an eye on them. Amadeus is my main concern. I'll try to discourage the after party."

"What if he insists on going? He doesn't like them, but he will make an appearance to humor people."

"I guess we let him go and stay vigilant."

Red nods as he responds to someone on his radio questioning a person's credentials and walks off.

Once everyone is gathered up, we return to our hotel. The after party is in one of the ballrooms, planned this way, so everyone can clean up before making their appearance. Amadeus is still charged up from the show. The adrenaline rush he gets from performing hasn't slowed and takes him a while to wind down. Before we disembark, Artie tells the guys what and who to expect, and as we're walking inside, I reach for hand. He looks over at me, smiling, and squeezes back as we continue to walk.

Alone in our room, I check for messages. Amadeus walks over, taking the phone from me. He places his hand on my cheek and bends over and kisses me. His mouth parts my lips as his tongue begins to explore and probe the inside of my mouth. I respond, kissing him back as passionately, not wanting the moment to stop. He grabs hold of both my shoulders afterwards and stares me firmly in the eye.

"Zara, I've waited a long time to share my feelings with you. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

I slowly nod my head, "Yes, I think so."

"Good," he replies and kisses me as ardently as a moment ago. We stand holding on to each other as he whispers in my ear, "I love you, Zara. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone." He's kissing me, stroking my hair and cheek.

I put my hand on his face as tears well up in my eyes. I don't need to get all emotional, but the game is lost.

"I love you, too. I'm sorry," I reply. "I didn't expect I would get so weepy." I try to wipe the tears now coming on strong, but we are rudely brought back to reality by Artie's pounding on the connecting door.

"Fuck!" Amadeus mumbles under his breath. "What?"

"Are you ready? You're due at the party now," Artie yells back through the locked door.

"We're on our way."

"You were supposed to have been there ten minutes ago, Amadeus."

"I said we're on our way, Artie."

Amadeus kisses me as he strokes my cheek. "How about we pick this up later?"

I nod my head and cover his hand with mine.

I make a decision. I'm aware Red is unavailable, overseeing the equipment malfunction, and may not get to the after party. I'm sure Amadeus is unaware of the evening's findings. I decide I need to tell him about seeing the person of interest from L.A. and finding Artie with him.

"What do you mean Artie was with him?"

"They had a conversation. His actions weren't that of two strangers."

"And?"

"He was alone, no back up. What makes it odder, Amadeus, is Artie hasn't told Red nor me about this."

"Crap! Let's go to this party, and perhaps something will transpire. We'll stay an hour at most. We check out who's in the room, and if you're still uneasy, we'll leave."

"Fine," I reply.

"And Zara, don't keep these things from me. I can help you better if I know what's going on."

"I had no time earlier. But I will in the future," I tell him.

Some top executives from his label are in attendance. Artie seems no different than usual, paying close attention to the execs.

I try to engage in conversation with all the people who come up to Amadeus, but I'm constantly scanning the room for anything not right. He's standing near the door. For the first time, he knows I'm aware of his presence. I don't falter; I stay focused on him. I feel arm around me as he bends down to talk to me. I forget how tall he is until we're this close.

"Zara, what? You seem distracted."

I start to show him, but the man is gone. I look around for him. If he's still here, I can't find him. I notice Red in the distance. I wave him over. The three of us agree that Amadeus should leave, but Amadeus acts as though he doesn't hear. He walks us over to the table the execs are at and sits down. I follow his cue. Red isn't far off, looking around. Amadeus turns on the charm as he talks with the men. He makes an excuse he's retiring for the evening. Amadeus is one of their best money makers. We start to leave, Red accompanying us. Artie spots us and realizes what's happening, but before he can try to stop us, we're in the elevator.

When we get back to our room we lock ourselves in, waiting in case Artie comes. Amadeus alternates between pacing the floor and sitting at the table. Finally, he grabs a beer out of the mini bar and sits on the bed, deep in thought. I go to the bathroom to remove my make-up. I take off my clothes, leaving only my underwear. I find Amadeus in bed, bare chested, sound asleep. I climb in, snuggling against him.

The next morning on the bus, I watch him napping in a chair. I make notes on what happened until my eyes are too heavy to go any further and I succumb to sleep, as well. Not long after, a noise wakes me up. Amadeus is searching for who knows what, shuffling through papers and newspapers.

"Maybe I can help you find whatever you're making so much noise about." He flashes me a smile. He knows I'm on to his plan to wake me.

"Oh, I'm sorry love, did I disturb you?" He sits down beside me and kisses me. He notices the legal pad sitting on the table and picks the paper up. He scans the pages I've written.

"I fell asleep before I could make any of those calls," I explain. "Do you agree with me on this?"

"Absolutely."

I call the detective in L.A. I want to know whether he's come up with anything about our mystery man or who might have broken into the house in Malibu. Plus, I should fill him in on what happened yesterday. The other call I want to make is to Robert at the label to check in, and see if he's aware of Julia's law suit. Also, perhaps Robert can get someone to look in on condo in Seattle and both of our places in Manhattan to make sure everything is as it should be. I don't think I'm being paranoid.

Amadeus gets comfortable at the table as I place the call. The phone is on speaker, so he can hear.

The investigator informs he tried to reach me through Artie because he had misplaced my number, and he spoke with Artie each time. I might find that odd if he had shared that with me before, but not now. We tell him what happened the night before, seeing Artie immersed in talks with our mystery man. He informs they still have no clue who he is.

Amadeus jumps in the conversation. "Any idea who broke into the house?"

"Nothing so far," he replies. "We're checking local pawn shops for the laptop, but are coming up empty."

The discussion ends with our detective assuring to keep us apprised of anything he comes up with and promises to stay in touch.

"Let's see what's shaking with Robert."

I punch in the numbers and put the phone back down. Robert is aware of Julia's suit and that the legal department is on top of the matter. We share our plans regarding a visit to Damien and Julia while we are in Seattle. He agrees a visit can't hurt. I tell him about Artie and his strange behavior. He doesn't say anything for what seems the longest time. He hasn't had any contact with Artie, assuming Artie had been on the road with us.

"Robert, we would like it if you'd check our places in Manhattan."

"Right, of course. I should have done that already, Zara. I'll get on it immediately."

"Thanks, Robert," Amadeus adds, winking at me.

After much discussion between the three of us, Robert asks us both if we're comfortable staying out on tour. Amadeus doesn't hesitate with his answer. "We're two days out of Seattle, Robert. We'll be off for about a week. Why don't you schedule a visit to Seattle?"

"You're both sure? I will implement changes right now to cancel these two nights and make them up later."

I'm looking at Amadeus. "It isn't necessary, Robert. If you hear anything at all, don't hesitate to contact me, okay? Otherwise, we'll meet you in Seattle."

Amadeus stands up as we conclude, and without a word, takes my hand and helps me up. He hugs me for a long time.

## Chapter 4

Finally, we arrive in Seattle. Everyone gets a few days off before the concert and before the next leg of the tour begins. This is all down time, without interviews, parties, or concerts. Rooms are booked for our entire stay, giving those who don't live in the Seattle area a home base.

Amadeus had asked his sister Anne to drive one of his cars to the hotel. He walks over to the valet to have the vehicle retrieved. Waiting on Amadeus's car, Red delivers our luggage. A large black SUV appears, and we get in. We're now on our own time schedule for the next five days.

We don't have a long drive, but we're both dreading the trip. Robert called us and gave us some disturbing news; all of our places had been broken into.

Amadeus's condo in Seattle overlooks Puget Sound, thus allowing him privacy, close, but far enough away from the internal disputes and conflicts of family life. We take the elevator to the fifteenth floor. As soon as we enter, regardless of having been straightened up, it's clear what has happened. He walks through the apartment, checking every room before coming back to where I am, next to his black baby grand piano. I notice the classical piece of sheet music, remembering he's an accomplished pianist in his own right.

"Not as bad as I thought. I'll go through things later to check for anything missing." He walks over to the outside windows overlooking the water front, staring out before turning back to me.

"Well, we're on our own for five days. Anything you can think of we need to do this afternoon?"

"We probably should get some food in this place," I reply, "because I know even if you are home, you don't keep much here."

He nods his head in agreement. "Yeah, we're going to need a few things I guess. We're supposed to eat dinner with my parents. I thought tomorrow we'd go out to Damien's, so there are two meals out. Anything else?"

"I should phone your mother. When would be a good time? "

"Go ahead and try to reach her," he replies. "She'll tell you without having to ask if anything isn't right with Julia. If she thinks everything is normal, we'll simply pop in for a visit with Damien."

I sit on the large black leather sofa to phone Grace. Amadeus sits at the end closest to me. Our conversation takes longer than expected. She's fishing for information regarding our relationship's progress.

"Are the both of you doing well, Zara?"

"We're fine, glad to get this break. I forgot getting a decent night's sleep can sometimes be a challenge with the hours we keep." I'm sure I detect a chuckle at that answer.

"Well, William and I look forward to seeing you both. I realize you don't get much free time away from my son, Zara, but perhaps we might be able to plan lunch and do some shopping before you leave."

We make plans for dinner at their house the following evening. Amadeus takes the phone from me, putting it on speaker to ask details regarding Damien.

"We're planning to visit Damien tomorrow. I thought this would be a good way for Zara to enjoy some of the islands."

"He'll be thrilled to see you, Amadeus." He can tell by the sound of her voice she's getting upset. "Julia hasn't been in touch in weeks, and when your Dad called about us going to visit, she made all sorts of excuses for us not to come."

"Mother, do me a favor; if Julia calls beforehand, don't tell her we're coming. I want to surprise Damien."

"I won't, and I'm looking forward to dinner. I love you, Amadeus."

"Until tomorrow. I love you too, Mother." He finishes his call and puts the phone down. His mood is now dark, changed in an instant. He's not the happy, carefree man he was a short time ago.

"What's up, A?" I ask. "Did your mom say something?"

He repeats every word she told him. "So, darlin', you and I are off to make a surprise visit to big brother and his wife in the morning, and later we're having dinner with the parents."

"Do you think something's wrong?"

"Precisely what we're fixin' to find out. Even with this lawsuit, she has no reason not to let them visit Damien. I could tell, though, my mother was upset by Julia's behavior. So we're gonna go and find out what's going on." He sits himself right next to me, putting his arms around me. "You know we're alone for the rest of the day." He gives me a devilish wink and leans over to kiss me.

"We should go check the kitchen, remember?" I reply, my hand rubbing his chest.

***

The following morning, the weather is cloudy, the sun trying to come out. Amadeus is in a hurry to leave. I fell asleep on the sofa while we were watching a movie the night before, and he left me, covering me with a blanket. Now he's acting like a drill instructor, prodding me to hurry.

"You're going to have to let us get some coffee."

"There's a place right on the corner here. We'll stop there first, get the car, and go," he replies, as he shuts the front door behind us.

As we're driving, he explains we have to catch a ferry to the island where Damien and Julia live. I can tell he's excited about seeing his brother; he's behaving as if he's had a pot of coffee instead of one cup. I let him banter and enjoy his enthusiasm. He's pointing out sights as we drive, explaining where we are in regard to his place. Arriving at the terminal, we wait in line for the next ferry. We sit in the car, watching what's going on around us, making small talk.

"Zara, this might sound strange, but I felt odd being at my place last night. I can't explain it."

"Probably because you feel violated, which is perfectly normal. Someone did break in. Give it some time and this too will pass."

"Yeah. I hadn't thought about things like that. Other than things didn't feel the same." A ferry is coming into sight, and our conversation goes back to mindless banter.

Though our trip isn't a long one Amadeus, takes me up on the deck, so I can appreciate the sights of the sound and the islands are coming into view. Lots of boats are out on the water. I have a camera and change the lens out for a telephoto and start snapping pictures.

An island is fast approaching. He leads us back to the car. We disembark the ferry and drive to Damien's. He's quieted down a little, unsure of what lies ahead. I reach across the console and squeeze his knee, attempting to comfort him. Taking my hand, he kisses the back and tightens his grip.

Finally, he turns off the main road onto a gravel one until we come upon a massive black iron gate, marking the entrance, which is closed. A brick column holds a speaker and surveillance camera. "No trespassing" signs posted everywhere.

"Well, this is new," he announces. "This wasn't here last time I visited."

"It might be necessary, A. With Damien retired and ill, they may have had one too many visitors."

"Yeah, you're probably right, makes perfect sense. Well, let's announce ourselves, shall we?"

We wait after he presses the button. Nothing. He tries again. Finally, a man is heard. "Yes?" the stranger asks. This is reminding me of the movie, "The Wizard of Oz."

"Yeah, is Julia at home? I'm her brother-in-law, Amadeus."

"I'm sorry," the voice replies. "Neither Mrs. or Mr. Tudor are receiving visitors. I will inform them you came. You might want to call and set up a time with her, though."

Silence. The unfamiliar voice is gone. Amadeus tries again. I can tell by his actions he's not happy. The voice returns. "Yes?"

"You mean I have to make an appointment to visit my own brother?"

"Yes, sir. I believe that's what I just told you. Now, I advise you to turn around and leave as you are on private property."

"Do you believe this?" Amadeus shouts to no one in particular. He makes a gesture to the camera mounted near the box and rolls up his window. He turns his head toward me, his features darkened by his mood. The one thing about him; when he's in an ill temper that handsome face gives him away. "What?" he yells at me.

"Come on, let's go, babe."

Turning the SUV around, we slowly creep back down the gravel drive. He's looking at the barrier surrounding Damien's property, a high chain-link fence with barbed wire strung across the top.

"This wasn't here, either. What the hell is going on? I've half a mind to scale it, find her, and confront her. She can't keep my brother from his family!"

"No, you're not. You have no idea what's back there, and you certainly don't need to get hauled in for trespassing."

"Yeah, but a stunt like that would sure make one embarrassing headline for her. I can see it now: 'Tudor sibling arrested trying to see ill brother'." He was laughing. "Come on, let's go into town and think about all this."

We make our way back and stop by the water. The town is tiny and picturesque, reminding me of how small towns once looked when I was a child. Perfect Americana on an island.

"Do you have Angus' number?"

"Of course, why?" I ask as I pass my phone to him.

"I'm going to find out what he knows about this. He might not be back, but if he is, it's possible he knows more than we do."

Angus hasn't arrived. His band will be in town the day before the concert, opening for Tudor Rose. He talks with Ashleigh, Angus's wife, telling her of the unusual reception we encountered at Damien's. He's shaking his head as he finishes the call.

"What did she say?" I ask.

"Evidently, Angus called to speak with Damien last week, and some guy told him Damien was not available to come to the phone. Same deal we ran into."

"This is so bizarre," I reply.

"Well, she's up to something," Amadeus interjects before I'm able to say anything else. "If I had access to a boat here, I'd go and at least access the situation from the water."

The weather wasn't cooperating; a drizzle was coming down.

"I guess we need to talk with my dad about this and what he thinks. I don't like this at all. But maybe if we all call their house a zillion times while we're in town, we might wear her down to where she'll let us visit Damien."

"This is most likely the best we can do for now. I imagine your parents may perhaps hire an attorney."

"You want to walk around and look at the shops?" he asks me, taking hold of my hand. "We've got time, and we need to have some fun."

We spend the next couple of hours walking through the quaint town, looking in pottery and antique shops before heading to the ferry.

***

I'm standing in front of the windows at Amadeus's place, watching the water below as I wait on him. I don't hear him enter the room, but catch a glimpse of him in the window as he's approaches me. He embraces me, drawing us closer.

"Would you be happy living here?" he whispers.

I'm at a loss for words, and I'm not sure what he means. I finally answer. "Yes."

"Even with the gloomy, grey, drizzly days? And we have a lot of those here."

Now he's really got me going. I turn around to face him. He doesn't back up, but rather keeps his arms around me, keeping me close.

"What are you trying to say?" Instead of an answer, he leans down and kisses me. A long, slow, intense kiss. He loosens his grip on me and looks at me, those piercing blue eyes burning through me.

"It's like I told you, I love you. I want you in my life permanently. I want us to live together, make babies, raise our family, travel, grow old together. This is our time, Zara." Before I can answer, we're kissing passionately once more.

I finally break free of him. I know if we keep this up we won't be arriving at his parents' on time. We'll end up in bed instead. "I love you, too, A. And more than anything, I want for us to be together. But..." I hear him groan as he shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling.

"But what, Zara?"

"Umm, like we need to leave for your parents'." I smile at him, biting my lip, watching for his reaction. "We'll continue this conversation later, okay?"

"Yeah, but I can tell you right now, Zara, there won't be much talking when we come back."

I can feel myself getting flushed by his words. He must have picked that up. He kisses me then gives me one of those smug grins of his. With that, we leave for our dinner.

***

Our dinner with his parents is relaxing and enjoyable. William and Grace have always treated me as one of theirs. I secretly wish my folks could have been a little more like them instead of the dysfunctional mess I came from. Amadeus stays close to me, which is not lost on either of the older couple. Their youngest hasn't had success in the love department. They want nothing more than for him to find his life partner.

After dinner, the four of us retire to the den. The room is a large, inviting, walnut paneled room. The house was built at the turn of the 20th century, and rather than modernizing the interior, Grace left the majority in the original style.

Amadeus brings up the issue that's been avoided until now. He recalls our visit out to the island. The news is obviously distressing to the couple.

"We need to do something," Amadeus suggests. "I'm not sure how to proceed. The compound is like Ft. Knox. I wish I'd had a boat. I'd love to scope the place from the water and figure out what is going on."

"Why is she doing this?" Grace exclaims.

"I hold no answer. Zara suggested we hire a lawyer and get his perspective. Perhaps she'll let us visit him if she realizes we've hired an attorney."

"Good idea, Zara," William replies, adding, "Do you think this matter is tied to the lawsuit about his music, Amadeus?"

Amadeus looks at me. "I would like to say it doesn't, but after today, I don't know what to believe."

"Well, in the morning, I'll call Daniel Sterling. He's been our attorney for years, and I'm sure if this is something he can't or is uncomfortable handling, he'll recommend the top person for the job."

"Good," I reply. "I believe that's the best thing you can do."

"I also think we all should keep trying to call her to see if we can't get her on the phone. Try and wear her down. If the attorney doesn't think we need to do that, we can quit," Amadeus adds.

The conversation moves on to the concert and arrangements for their attendance until Grace throws us off with what at first appears to be an off the cuff comment directed at both of us.

"Not to change the subject, but how long before the two of you get married? What are you waiting on?"

I know I'm turning every shade of red imaginable; I feel my face heating up. I'm not used to this close family interaction, and I hear Amadeus groan as he blurts out, "Mother!" I can see he's amused with his mother's comment. I expect William to reprimand her as he does not like them getting involved in their children's private lives. Instead he's backing her.

"I have to agree with Grace on this one, you two."

Amadeus is caught totally off guard. I can tell he's trying to come up with a response, but he floundering. He looks at me, trying to maintain his composure as he answers his mother. "Mother, I haven't exactly asked Zara. But you'll be the first to know when that happens."

My mind is whirling at what he just said. _So was that a proposal earlier?_ I look over at him, watching him squirm. I want to say something, but Grace beats me to the punch.

"What do you mean you haven't _exactly_ asked Zara? What do you mean? Either you have asked her or you haven't. Don't make things so complicated, dear."

William does come to the rescue, sort of. "Yes, your mother's right. We don't expect you two to have a large wedding or anything. We'd be happy if you just eloped."

And marriage isn't the only topic Grace feels is not off limits.

"Grandchildren, Amadeus! You're the lone holdout in the baby department, young man."

"Mother, please!"

"Don't try change the subject, either," she insists. "We aren't getting any younger, and I'd like us to be able to take pleasure in your children as much as we do all the others."

My phone interrupts (and rescues) our conversation. Robert, texting when he'll arrive in Seattle the following day. I start to put it back in my pocket, but Amadeus is curious and reads the text. The smug expression on his face indicates he's found a way out of this increasingly uncomfortable conversation. He mentions to his parents we need to be leaving. We've some prior commitments scheduled for early in the morning, and Robert was reminding us.

Bidding his parents good night, we make the trip home.

"Zara, I'm sorry. I had no idea my mother would get so personal tonight. But she's never shied away from telling what's on her mind."

"Don't give the matter another thought. You're lucky to have such caring parents. They mean well. And now we've made them happy."

We arrive as a light rain sets in for the night. I'm not used to the cooler weather of the area. I find myself shivering from the dampness. Amadeus takes the jean jacket he's been wearing off and throws it over my shoulders as we enter the elevator.

"We need to get you some jackets and stuff to keep here since cooler temperatures are not unusual even in the middle of summer. You always should carry a jacket or something with you."

"You certainly won't see weather this cool in Manhattan in July, will you? A nice change from the brutal heat. I guess you get used to the changes?"

"You do if you're going to live here."

The elevator arrives at our destination. Approaching the entrance, we find the door ajar. Amadeus attempts to open it farther, but I grab his arm, stopping him. I shake my head, telling him not to enter, and motion for him to follow me.

"Don't you think we should telephone the police first?" I ask. "I don't like the idea of entering until they're here."

"Yeah, you're probably right, call them."

I call 911 and provide all the information to the dispatcher.

"They're on the way."

"Come on, let's try and determine if anyone is inside."

We sneak up closer. Amadeus leans as close to the open door as he can. I don't have a good sensation about this, and I try to get his attention, but he's not paying me any mind. He motions his head in the direction of the open door. Someone remains inside, and before either of us can react, the door swings open as a black-cloaked figure rushes at us. The two of us are pushed off balance as the figure disappears. Amadeus tries to grab and stop the thief and is taken to the ground with such force the blow knocks the wind out of him. My reaction is to follow the stranger, but an exit door closes. I realize I don't stand a chance to catch him.

I got a glimpse of the intruder's face. The unmistakable face of our mystery man, I'm convinced. I rush over to Amadeus, who's sitting up as the officers come off the elevator. I yell at them, pointing where the shadowy figure went. One officer runs in that direction while the other approaches. He asks if we need the EMTs, but Amadeus shakes his head at the suggestion.

Finally, his breath returns and I help him to his feet.

"You okay now?"

He nods and starts walking toward the entry. "Did you get a look at his face?" he asks.

"Yes, I did. It was our mystery man."

"Yeah, it was him. What the hell is going on, Zara?"

"Let's find out," I reply as we walk inside.

The officer requests more officers. The place isn't trashed like the previous break in.

"Mr. Tudor, I need for you to look around and determine what, if anything, is missing."

"Of course. Zara, check your things." I immediately rush over to the table in the living room where I had put Amadeus's computer. The laptop is gone.

I tell the officer what's been taken as his partner returns. Amadeus joins us, not having found anything gone.

"I understand you had a similar incident not long ago. You weren't at home at the time?" he asks.

"That's right."

"Any ideas who broke in here? With only a computer missing, it makes me believe the intruder knew what he was after."

I lose my composure at the formality of the questioning. "No kidding! I mean, this is supposed to be a secured building. No one can enter without a key or being let in, and yet it has happened twice now to the same unit. Last time the place was ransacked. This time we probably stopped that from happening again, but what if we hadn't been here? And to answer your question, yes, we have a good idea of who did this."

The officer is caught off guard by the tongue lashing, and Amadeus is trying hard not to laugh. He hasn't seen me behave like this in a while.

"Here's a photo of the man on my phone. I'm sure if you pull your file from the last incident, this picture is probably included. We've been watching for this guy since we left L.A. "

A pair of detectives appear, and the process starts all over. As we are sitting with them, discussing the two incidents, I get a call. It's well past 2 am, way too late for normal people. I scan my caller ID; Artie. I ignore his call. Why would he be calling at this hour?

We finish up with the detectives. It's obvious we aren't going to get much sleep, if any, and my body is beginning to complain. Amadeus is pacing the floor trying to make sense over what has happened. I'm determined to sit with him.

Amadeus sits down on the sofa next to me, taking my hand. "I'm sorry our night got ruined. You're exhausted. Why don't you go lie down and try to get some sleep Zara? I'll join you in a little while."

I nod in agreement as he helps me to my feet. "You sure? I don't mind staying up with you."

"I'm fine. You go on."

I'm too exhausted to argue with him. I climb into bed clad only in panties. My body relaxes under the crisp sheets. Perhaps I can get a couple of hours sleep.

I awake some time later to find Amadeus naked, lying beside me. His hand is exploring my body. Realizing I'm awake, he removes my panties then straddles himself over me. We kiss each other with urgency. His body moves harder, eager to release, and I'm unable to control the elation I feel as he pulls me tight to him, thrusting deep, overtaken by his climax. Collapsing in pure bliss and exhaustion, I slowly move on my side, facing him, and as I do, he reaches for me and draws me closer.

"My God, Zara, I can't get enough of you. I didn't want it to end." His mouth finds mine, and we share another passionate kiss. His kisses find their way to my ear as he whispers, "I love you."

"I love you too, Amadeus." I freeze as I feel semen dripping out of me as he moved me, triggering a panic reaction.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He sounds panicked by the prospect, staring at me.

"We didn't use a condom. We haven't used one at all, and I'm not on the pill or anything."

"I know, baby. I didn't want any barriers between us." He looks almost happy. "Zara, I want you to get pregnant. You okay with that?"

I nod my head. "Yes, you know I am. I'm sorry I freaked on you. No one's ever discussed this sort of thing with me before. My life has always revolved around my business. I've never given the idea of having a family much thought."

"I love you, Zara. Let me take care of you, all right?"

We must have succumbed to sleep because the next thing I'm aware of is Amadeus looking around for the clock.

***

I'm sitting on the sofa, attempting to relax, enjoying the tranquility of the moment when I feel him tugging, trying to get me on my feet.

"Come on, there's something I want to show you."

"What?"

"Let's go." He drives us through town until we pull into a marina and park. He doesn't say a word, he just takes my hand and leads me down the docks until we reach a large white sailboat tied in one of the slips.

"Well, what do you think? Ain't she a beauty?" I've never seen him act this way, maybe close, but not this giddy. We move along, looking it over. We walk past the stern to observe her from a different angle. I feel the breath almost leave me. The boat is named "Tudor Queen" after a Yorkshire Terrier he gave me years ago. She had been his first gift to me. He's watching me, knowing I've seen her name and leads me to the cockpit where he jumps on and holds his hand out for me to follow. He's got one of those expressions I call Cheshire cat grins on his face.

"Welcome to the "Tudor Queen" m'lady."

I'm in shock, and I force the words out. "She's beautiful! I didn't...how long have you had her?"

"About two years, I guess. It's almost a sin to live in Seattle and not own a sailboat." He takes me on a tour of the entire boat. This is one of his true passions outside of music.

"How big is she?"

"Forty-seven feet. How long since you've sailed, Zara?"

"Quite a while." I can't believe he remembers sometime I told him during our years together about sailing with my father and family.

"You'll be fine. I thought we'd head out into the islands when this tour is over. We can do things by the seat of our pants and the weather. You okay with this?"

"Yes," I reply.

## Chapter 5

Everything for the night is ready, and I hope things go according to schedule as a good portion of Amadeus's own family will be backstage or in the VIP area. I decide to stay close to him. My gut warns me not to stray far. Tom Nix, the Seattle detective, informed us earlier Artie and Brad, our mystery man, were arrested but are no longer in police custody. Tom explains although he processed enough to keep them both on a variety of charges, he feels he can learn more with them on the street.

Now the time has arrived. I walk with Amadeus toward the stage. He's quiet as usual just before his performance. The other band members' demeanors catches me off guard. Rather than huddling together moments prior to going on, the five gather separately, away from Amadeus.

Once they are well into their first song, I glance about and observe Red buzzing the area. He's picked up on the mood, too. He leaves, responding to a call coming across his radio. I saunter over to watch the crowd. I notice Julia and one of her daughters sitting in the VIP area, yet I'm even more shocked to observe Artie and Brad next to her. She and Artie are engaged in conversation. Brad is sitting watching Tudor Rose perform. How did they gain access to both the concert and the limited access area? The venue security, along with the roadies have been given strict instructions the two are to be denied admission. This is the call Red got. He approaches the two, accompanied by someone from the building. It's evident from the body language I'm witnessing Artie is trying to challenge Red. I'm not carrying a radio, but at this moment, I wish I had one to be privy to what is unfolding in front of me.

With the band preparing to go into the third song of the set, the stage lights fade to black and all the members of Tudor Rose walk off, leaving Amadeus alone. They file silently past me as I dart over to where I last saw him before the lights went out. I take Amadeus's hand and tell him to stay with me. As we're standing, I notice an individual holding a flashlight approach us. It's Red, who sprinted up as soon as the stage went dark.

The whole area is in chaos. Somehow, Red manages to lead us away from the main hallway, knowing a crowd is gathering there. Everyone is searching for Amadeus, and I ask Red to monitor his radio. With Artie and Brad on site, I want to keep Amadeus out of the backstage area. After making our way through a maze of hallways, we exit on the opposite side of the venue. My phone is going off incessantly. I need to get us clear of the site. I'm about to send Red to find a vehicle as we stumble across one of the detectives who'd been at the house. I made sure he and his partner, Tom Nix, had credentials for this evening, giving them access without letting on they were police. He's witnessed what happened and came outside to patrol the perimeter, while Tom stayed inside. Amadeus and I dive into his car, leaving Red to supervise the crew and breakdown. I tell him I'll call him and Robert soon, once I get Amadeus somewhere safe.

Amadeus suggests we go to his boat. His father's the only one who is aware he's purchased the vessel, and Amadeus has access onto the docks. Jon Franco drives us to the marina. He tells us he or Tom will call as soon as they are able.

We walk quietly. Once inside, Amadeus turns on a couple of lights, helping me get my bearings. Calls are still coming nonstop. Sitting at the small table, I scroll through to find out who's been calling me. I ring Robert, who does not answer, and leave a message. William's number appears several times. I tell him Amadeus is fine. As soon as I finish with William, Robert calls. I hear all the turmoil in the background, and it's obvious he can't speak unless he yells. We end our call for now.

Amadeus walks over to a fridge and opens it.

"I've got to have a beer, Zara." He reaches inside. "Want one?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine. Would you get me a water if you have any?"

He brings me one, handing the bottle to me as he sits down across from me. Sailboats do not have the room a power boat might. So even though this one is long, the width lacks, making things a bit cozy.

"What the hell just happened, Zara? I never saw this coming, did you?"

"No, I really thought everything was fine. Man, was I wrong!"

He sits, sipping his beer, his mind replaying the evening's events.

"You okay?" I ask.

"I will be," he said, taking one more drink, watching me. "How about you?"

"I'm fine, just worn out. These past few days have been draining, but I'm getting my second wind."

"Good, because I intend to wear you out in more ways than you can imagine." He winks at me as he sips the beer.

"I bet you will!" I'm glancing about where I'm sitting, searching for my purse. "Damn!"

"What?"

"My pocketbook, a notebook I keep. I remember now I left them at the condo." I never take it when I'm working. I bring my keys, credentials, lipstick, nothing more.

"Here, use this." He sets a legal pad in front of me as he sits back down.

"Thanks. I wanted to make some notes. Who we've talked to, anything we might remember leading up to this evening."

"Angus...let's see if he's aware of any of this or left before it started."

I start to dial, when Amadeus stops me. "Call Ashleigh's number. He'll be without his phone. Put him on speaker, too."

Ashleigh answers and Amadeus starts talking.

"Hey, where are you guys? Is Angus with you?"

"We're over at William's...."

Angus joins in. "You certainly got a mutiny on your hands, little brother. Where are you?"

"You don't need to know right now, Angus. Were you there when all this shit went down?"

"Yeah, Ashleigh and I were in the VIP box with Mom and Dad. So, what's going on?"

"We don't have a clue, Angus," I interject into the mix. "That is what we're trying to piece together. Can you tell us anything other than how chaotic things became?"

"No, but a detective came and got our names and stuff, said he'd get back with us. Oh yeah, Dad says he was Tom Nix."

"Okay, we'll get back to you," Amadeus replies, ending the conversation. He stares at the puzzled expression on my face. "What? He doesn't know anything, let's move on." He stands, trying to stretch. He finds another beer just as Robert calls back. He indicates he wants this on speaker.

"Robert," he greets the man, "what you can tell us?"

"All I know for sure is the boys are claiming artistic differences with you."

"Hmmm. Anything else?" Amadeus asks.

"They are regrouping on their own."

"Robert, did you talk with them one on one or is this hearsay?" I ask because this fact could prove valuable later.

"Yes, I did speak with them for about ten minutes. That's all they would give me. You aren't going to believe who's been hired to manage them?"

"Let me guess," A chimes in, "Artie!"

"Yep! He whisked the guys out fast. Didn't want them questioned. He's already released a statement."

"I'm not worried about Artie representing them. With all the mess going on with Brad and being the interest of local detectives, I don't know how the relationship can last." Amadeus adds, "What about this statement, Robert?"

"Rick, my assistant, has been calling around trying to find someone who's read this. I'm planning to release one before morning stating simply that A and the band parted ways, he's still with the label, and the tour shall resume shortly and dates are to be made up. What do you think?"

"It works," I answer.

"A?" he asks.

"Yeah, fine. We're one step ahead, no blame is being laid. We can anticipate what comes out of their camp."

"Exactly. Why don't you two try to get some sleep, not much we can do except wait. I'll be in touch first thing in the morning."

"Sounds good, Robert," I reply. "Talk to you then."

A doesn't say anything further until the call ends.

"Let the war of words begins. He's right, Zara. So, why don't we lie down for a while." He takes my hand and leads me to the sleeping quarters. The motion of the vessel is soothing to my stiff body. He's been holding me, no words exchanged. Suddenly, he sits up as far as he's able, given the sailboat's cramped quarters. "I'm going to secure the cabin for the night."

I remove my jeans and top, placing them to one side. He returns as I try to cover myself, but he catches enough to conclude I'm naked. I catch a smile come over his face as he strips off his clothes. He reaches for the small light above us, and we plunge into darkness. A few minutes after lying in the dark, he puts his arm around me. One thing about Amadeus, he's highly sensual. His mouth encases mine, probing until our tongues meet, and our kiss intensifies.

Instead of making love, we lie there, caressing the other until we fall deeply asleep.

***

Morning comes too early. Amadeus is already awake, up top walking around. I throw on my clothes and find the way to the cockpit where he's sitting reading a newspaper. He's pulled his hair back in a ponytail, making his rugged features stand out. He's a handsome man, but never one who let looks interfere with his personality. He glances up as I approach.

"Good morning." I lean over and kiss him as I find a place to sit. "Been up long?"

"A while. I couldn't sleep. I walked to the store and got a paper." He points in the direction of a building at the edge of the docks.

Knowing why he bought the newspaper, I wait for him to tell me what, if anything, he's found. I observe my phone lying next to him.

"Well, according to the front page this morning, I stormed off. Whoever wrote the article said there are serious disagreements among us. They quoted Artie as saying I wanted to go solo for a long time and used the conflicts as an excuse to leave, using the stage to make a dramatic exit. You believe him?" His voice is getting louder as his pent up anger begins to escape.

"Actually, yes, baby. We need to call Robert. I want to find out how Artie got this in the paper." I know newspapers keep deadlines.

"But, Zara, I'm the one being made out to be the bad guy in all this! I'm not the one who walked off, they were!"

"I understand. Obviously, last night was pre-planned." I quickly give him a lesson in newspaper deadlines, which helps soften his anger.

"Come on, let's go inside and make some calls."

We situate ourselves at the table. I notice it's only six in the morning. I remember being north like we are daylight comes a lot earlier this time of year. I ring Robert and find he's already up, and he's seen the same article.

"This whole thing was staged and pre-planned, A. My theory is he was going to try and continue to represent you and take the band on the sly. He screwed up."

"How?" Amadeus asks.

"He didn't count on either of you or anyone else to connect this mystery man to the break-ins. Zara did, though."

"Yeah, she did." He's looking across the table at me, smiling and a lot more relaxed.

"So he's turned the tables, putting the blame for the break-up on Amadeus." I add, scanning the article as I'm talking, "What now?"

"Joe Anthony is here from N.Y. Came in yesterday to catch the show. He's out making the rounds of the radio shows this morning on your behalf, A. He and I put together a press release, and Rick got it out to everyone; local, national."

"Good," I reply. "What else? The tour, Robert. Amadeus can't be expected to pick up and continue after all this without a band."

"I have things handled, don't worry about it. Joe would like for us to meet today, also. I thought I'd check if Tom Nix wouldn't mind scheduling around our meeting. Then, Amadeus, you only need to go to one location."

"Okay, Robert, I'm going to let you set us up. Call me when you do. We have other phone calls to make in the meantime."

"Robert, do you think we can go back to my place?" Amadeus asks.

"Let me check with the detective first, but I don't know why not. I'll hire some security in the lobby if necessary."

The conversation now finished, I write out notes as Amadeus gets up and starts looking through the galley.

"Coffee, Zara?" He holds up a jar of freeze dried to which I make a face. I can't stand instant. He fills a pot with water and puts the kettle on the stove to heat.

"Better than nothing."

"Yeah, okay."

"Anyone we should call?" he asks, opening the jar and peering in.

"It's too early to call anyone else right now."

***

The meeting is set up for ten at A's place. Detective Tom meets us at the marina and drives us back, so he can check everything out before we enter. Once Robert and Joe arrive, Tom takes his leave.

"So, what's up, and where do things go from here?" Amadeus starts the conversation.

"I think," Joe begins, "the best thing would be for you to take some time off, Amadeus. Let this die down a bit. Artie is going to pop up everywhere, and if we've got you doing the same, it will morph into a pissing match, which is exactly what he wants."

"I can't sit back and let them get the upper hand. I'm the one being made out as the bad guy here. My name as an artist..."

I pick up for him. "What Amadeus is saying, Joe, is he's afraid if he's silent, his reputation will get dragged through the preverbal mud."

"I understand, and that's not going to happen. How would you feel about perhaps doing one interview, one morning show? I will set them up, so you stay here and do it remotely. Far more a class act than anything Artie could come up with. Minimal coverage, then you take time off. While you're doing that, we'll stay on top of everything, rework the tour dates, and see if we can't find guys for you to audition to at least put together a back-up band for the remainder." Everyone is quiet, waiting on Amadeus.

"Zara," he finally responds, "you were my manager all those years, and I still value your opinion above anyone else's. What do you think?"

I figured when this started happening, I was going to be sucked back in. But things are different now. Amadeus is part of my life. "I agree, this is the best way to control everything and not to stoop to Artie's level. You have nothing earthshaking you have to do yourself. This will allow Joe and Robert time to come up with a strategy to relaunch you, with or without a Tudor Rose. But Amadeus, you're going to have to fire Artie as your manager and you need to do it now."

"You heard the lady, we'll proceed as planned."

"I'll write the letter to Artie for Amadeus," I interject.

After everyone leaves, I manage to take the longest shower. Drying off, I'm thinking how odd Amadeus didn't try to join me. I wrap the towel around me and walk out to the living room where I had left him and find him sound asleep on the sofa.

As he's sleeping, I dress and examine my phone to see if I need to call anyone else. His dad called several times. Knowing they're probably still worried I walk into the bedroom and talk to William.

"Zara, what have you found out? We read the article in the paper this morning, which doesn't paint Amadeus in a good light."

"William, don't pay attention to anything coming out unless it's from Amadeus's people. It's all crap. Things are being set up for Amadeus to do a few live media interviews, and then we're going to take time off and let things play out. He'll be fine, don't worry." Grace, who's been listening, takes the phone from him. I chuckle to myself as I realize they don't understand how to set it up on speaker, so the two of them can speak.

"Where are you going, Zara?"

"I, we haven't made plans yet, Grace, with everything going on. We'll tell you once we decide." I hope she accepts this. Her maternal instinct is kicking in big time.

"Is Amadeus around? I'd like to talk to him."

I explain to her he's sleeping finally and reassure her that he'll call as soon as he's awake. Once I finish talking with them, I breathe a huge sigh.

Noting no one else called, I put the phone on vibrate so as not to wake A. I'm walking toward the bedroom to dress, and I catch sight of a paper on the floor of the foyer. I pick the paper up and read it; another threat on Amadeus.

## Chapter 6

We bought provisions for the boat; brought all our clothes and personal items, along with anything else we think might be needed. Amadeus suggests we buy a new laptop to take with us. He calls his parents, giving his father the heads up where we're headed. I send Robert a text telling him of the note.

He shows me how to ready things for our first day out, and forty-five minutes later we're off. The wind is nonexistent for the remainder of the morning but eventually picks up in the afternoon. While he unfurls the sails, I take control of steering.

Throughout the next weeks, we sail among the islands leading up to Canada. For the most part, the weather cooperates and stays nice. The few days of rain we do encounter, we stay where we are. We fill our time reading, playing cards, napping, and making love. He's a sensual lover, attuned to my most intimate needs, teaching me his, and together we discover how to unconditionally connect as one. One rainy afternoon, lying in bed, our bodies entwined as one, he stops and stares down at me.

"Zara, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do." He kisses me, then slowly withdraws from me. He gets up and disappears for a few minutes, returns to the bed, gently nudging me onto my stomach.

He lowers himself next to me and whispers, "We're going to take this slow, baby. I only want to make you feel good. If you don't like anything, anything at all, tell me and I'll stop."

"Hmmm hmmm."

I melt at the touch of his hand as he guides it down my back, holding onto my hip. "I love you, Zara. I want you to belong to me in every way. Will you let me try?"

Before I can respond, he's drizzling a refreshing liquid down the crevice of my backside. Then he quietly and slowly tells me exactly what he seeks. Gasping at the feeling, I manage to answer, "Yes. Amadeus...."

"Do you like this, baby?"

"I don't know."

"Your body is telling me you do."

Taking his time, he continues his quest. The utter intimacy of the act, as though he finds every part of me worthy of his attention, as if he loves and accepts all of me and wants to claim me wholly, encouraging me to relax, take a deep breath, and give him everything he wants.

He leans over and whispers, "Can you handle more?"

At that moment, I would endure anything if this brought us closer together. "Yes, baby."

The burn intensifies as I squirm. I feel his hand firmly still me. "Easy, baby. Relax. We're going to take this slow."

"Amadeus, now, please."

Then he stops. "I think that's enough for today. I want this to go down as smooth as possible." We are mutually not only acknowledging pleasure, but the bond of our love for each other. He leans over, kissing my back and neck before disappearing.

Returning, he straddles me, placing his hand under me pushing his way in, setting a frantic pace until he gives in to the abyss of ecstasy. We lie in the darkness in each other's arms in silence. Finally, our bodies relax, and we fall into a deep asleep.

We sit outside the following evening, enjoying the sunset, talking about where we'll head next, as we do most evenings. He wants to sail by Damien and Julia's place to see if he can determine what's going on. I want him to approach the subject first in case he's changed his mind. He hasn't and tells me that we'll be in the area of the island his brother lives on in the next day or so. We decide we'll go past Damien's slowly and not turn about (my sailing lingo has come back to me!) and look again, but continue on to our next stop. Then he brings up the next phase of our adventure.

"Zara, we've been out almost a month. I've been thinking about what we should do next. How would you like to go to Paris?"

"Paris? Really? What have got up your sleeve? I can tell by the look on your face you're up to something."

"We're going to France, and we're getting married, Zara. It's all set. I've been putting the time I get up early in the morning to good use," he says, grinning at me.

"Then," I say, holding his hand, "let's go to France."

He leans over and we share a kiss.

"I've made arrangements for us to marry in Paris. Then we can spend a few days honeymooning in Provence. I thought we'd rent a car and drive down to the coast."

D-day is upon us the next morning. Damien day. After a long three hour trip, we reach our destination. I've armed myself with a telephoto lens to discreetly photograph as much as I can of the compound. We decide to go past one time only. Amadeus is deep in thought as we approach. A dock sits empty except for a lone power boat. A bit further up, the familiar chain link fence with the barbed wire looms across the water's edge; the no trespassing signs are everywhere. We are unable to spot anyone on the grounds. He looks back as we continue, shaking his head as he turns and puts the wind in his face.

I put the camera down and sit beside him, watching as he stares ahead. I put one hand on his back and notice how his muscles are tense, I try to rub some of the knots. He kisses me, giving me a lopsided grin. "Let's go home, Zara." What we just witnessed at his brother's goes unsaid, at least for the remainder of the day.

***

Paris is a city we've both been to, but have never been able to actually enjoy. We make time to go to some of the sites we've talked about wanting to visit. The Louvre and the Eiffel Tower are among the sites we visit.

Amadeus takes me to an unforgettable dinner at the Eiffel Tower. Afterwards, we take a walk, taking in the majesty of the Tower at night. He's been in an unusually good humor all evening. He finds a quiet spot for us to sit and take in the ambiance. The romantic lull of Paris is not lost on Amadeus. He's particularly affectionate, and after sharing a few long and intimate kisses, he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out.

"Zara," he begins, still holding me close to him, "I love you. I've told you I want you in my life forever. I want us to take the next step. I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife." He stops and looks down at me before continuing. "Zara Middleton, will you marry me?" His voice cracks with emotion bringing everything to this level. I don't hesitate with my answer.

"Yes, yes!" We share another kiss, then he produces the most beautiful, not to mention huge, diamond ring I have ever seen. He places it on my finger, watching my reaction. I'm at a complete loss for words. We walk back toward our hotel, after first having someone take our picture with the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the background.

We're married two days later by a priest after securing our marriage license with the embassy. I wear a dress purchased a couple of days before, a high end, haute couture designer dress I normally wouldn't indulge in. I didn't have anything to get married in, and having no time to find a dress, I knew Paris would be the place to purchase one. Amadeus has flowers for me and looks handsome, dressed in black, his hair pulled back. The only difference is, as in our sailing adventure, he stopped shaving so he sports the beginnings of a beard. It suits his rugged good looks.

The weather on our wedding day changes in the late afternoon, and we decide to stay in for the night. We order room service for dinner instead of leaving the room for one of the hotel's restaurants.

"Mmmm, Mrs. Tudor. I like the sound of that. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go to bed and consummate our marriage." We make our way, our clothes scattered throughout the suite. We tumble onto the mattress, my arms wrapped around him as he covers me with his body, our eyes locked.

"Would you like to continue what we started the other day on the boat?" His blue eyes watch me, searching for my answer.

"Yes." He bends downand kisses me, then raising off me, prods me to turn over. Once again, I feel a cool liquid touching my skin as he massages where he wants it to go.

Again I feel that strange sensation, as he coaxes me. "You okay?"

"Yes." He continues slowly, gently. Each time changing and my flesh stretching.

"Good, baby," he whispers in my ear. "I think you're ready.

I feel the liquid again. I appreciate the coolness. He's behind me, positioning me under him, his hand curled around my hip.

A gasp escapes me as he eases himself slowly within me and the burning returns.

"Take a deep breath. You're going to be okay, baby. Relax. Push out for me."

As I do, he spreads me wider, pushing deeper.

"Damn, Zara," he groans. "Relax, baby, you're fine. I want all of you." With one last push, he opens a whole new surge of sensations within my body. He slides one arm around me tight, whispering to me, "We'll take our time, baby. I'm not going to hurt you. I don't know how long I can last, but I want you to take everything I give you. I want you to feel fulfilled."

He flexes his hip and presses in deeper, making me gasp.

"You okay?"

"Yes."

He nuzzles kisses on my neck. "Good girl." His one free hand holds onto me in front, dragging his fingers over me, in me, as he guides me, thrusting me against him, the sensations consuming me whole.

"God, baby, you're so tight," he pants. "Are you ready?"

"Amadeus, please, yes." He plunges into me, the feelings are unrelenting, melding into one gigantic ecstatic pleasure ride, and I ball the sheets with my fists and scream for more.

I hear his breathing in my ear, moaning as he keeps pounding until I hear him screaming my name as though desire has been ripped from his soul, taking me to another orgasm as he releases inside me.

Everything falls silent except for our rigorous breathing as he collapses.

"You are incredible, Mrs. Tudor," he whispers. "I love you."

We lie in the dark, satisfied and content in the comfort of each other's arms.

Sometime in the depths of the night, I wake up to his caresses and kisses. Holding onto him, my arms around his broad shoulders, I can no longer wait.

"Now, baby, please," I whisper.

He straddles me, our eyes meet, but instead he whispers to me, "Come, I've got something else for you." He shifts himself beside me, spreading my legs, teasing me. Turning me over, his hand holding on to my abdomen, I rise to my knees as he pushes inside me, and we start rocking to the familiar rhythm, his hand strategically placed, knowing I'm seeking release, moving harder and quicker, his body on the verge of orgasm.

He takes my hand to his lips and kisses it.

I smile at him, snuggling back into his arms.

"Thank you for making today so special."

"My pleasure, wife."

We lie in a pile of glowing contentment. The night does not disappoint, fading into fulfilled slumber.

The road trip through France is wonderful as we make our way down to the Mediterranean. The French countryside is full of beautiful farms and places to discover. We arrive at our final destination and settle into the small hotel. From our room, the balcony overlooks the deep blue water of the Mediterranean.

We sit on the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze coming off the water. We've had no contact with anyone back home. We agreed not to share our private little corner of the world with anyone quite yet. It could be the last real private time away we have for a while.

We decide to send his parents a couple of the photos. One of the photos shows us posed with my hand on his shoulder, the ring a focal point with the Eiffel Tower shining in the background; the other shows us along with the priest who married us. I text them directly to Grace's iPhone and send them to her email account. I add one simple caption with the photos: "Just Married!"

Sitting inside now, having needed more light to navigate my phone to send the photos, Amadeus is seated next to me. His caresses and kisses now indicate his need for us to retire to the bedroom. He helps me up off the settee and pulls me as close to his body as he can. "Come, I have something I want to share with you," he whispers and leads the way.

Slowly and sensually, he begins removing my clothes. Upon discarding my top, he reaches around and unclasps my bra as I'm unbuttoning his shirt. As the bra falls to the floor, he pulls me against his chest, and I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders as I tease him, rubbing my breasts on him. His mouth finds mine, his tongue parting my lips as he beckons my tongue to share his passion. Removing his shirt, his hands explore what he's exposed thus far, our lips never parting. I grasp the front of his pants as though he's already free from their restraints. As I do, I hear him inhale deeply and pulls me against him. Our kiss is interrupted as he unfastens his pants, allowing me to remove them, along with his underwear. I pull them well past his hips and down to the floor. The rest of the night is a sensual treat, each exploring the other as if it were the first time. Amadeus is always able to make things feel as though they are new. Eventually, we both fall asleep as we lie clinging to each other. I awake early the next morning to him on top. I respond to him, spreading my legs to receive him. We make love without foreplay and I without a climax. I hear him in my ear after our tryst ends.

"Good morning." He looks down at me. "Did you enjoy what I showed you last night?"

"Yes, very much. And just now, too." I lie there enjoying his kisses. "I love you so much." I intensify my grip on him as I let my feelings expel.

"And I love you, Zara, more than I can ever tell you." He withdraws from me and rolls on his side, still holding on to me. He's caressing me and I spread my legs, letting him know what I want.

"Better now?" he asks, his mission accomplished. I respond with some unintelligible response. We fall back asleep for a while. When we do wake up, it's still early enough that we decide to drive into Monaco for the day. It's our last day in France and the beginning of a new phase in our lives.

We arrive in Seattle early in the morning, having taken a direct red-eye out of New York after landing from Paris. Amadeus sleeps almost the entire flight. I'm envious he can do that, but I conclude that all of the intimate physical activity we've been engaged in the past week may have something to do with it.

Returning to the condo and getting all our luggage and other stuff settled inside, I find my way to the dining room table.

"Do you want to make a to do list, people we need to call today?" he asks me, sitting down in one of the upholstered chairs.

I sit next to him at the side closest to him. I set the legal pad I've been carrying on the table in front of me.

"Yes, we should call Robert. At some point in time, you want to try and call the guys again?" Before we left, Amadeus had tried to contact the members of Tudor Rose, but had been unsuccessful. The only answer he got out of them was their voicemail.

"Let's talk to Robert, then we'll decide, okay?"

"That's fine."

We find Robert back in Manhattan, and he's been waiting to hear from us. After a couple minutes of light banter, we get down to business.

"I guess I'll start with Artie and his shadow, Brad, first." Robert begins. "Seattle PD arrested them on quite a few charges."

"So they're in jail?" Amadeus asks.

"No, they both made bail, I'm afraid, A. Zara, you and A need to contact Detective Nix for the details."

"Okay." I reply, watching how A's going to react, but he's just sitting quietly, doodling on the paper, listening.

"What about my former band mates, Robert? And where am I in all of this?"

"They are still without a recording contract and renamed themselves "Cranky Babies" or something like that. Artie's been getting them gigs, and he's been trying to pump the split with you the same way he was, but nothing seems to be working for him."

"Cranky Babies", interesting choice. Suits them. At least they had the sense not to continue using Tudor Rose," I add.

"Well, I'd like to talk with them, but I guess Artie's not having that. So onward, what's next Robert?"

"Everything on your end is cool, A. I've about got all the kinks worked out with the tour. You'll need to hold auditions before long for a house band. Everything's pretty much open until after the first of the year for you."

"Not acceptable, Robert." I find my former management skills kicking in. "Amadeus's name has to be kept out there until then, some interviews, guest spots late night."

"I agree, Zara. Um, we were thinking of putting a CD together and getting it out before Christmas. A, you've got a lot of stuff recorded without Tudor Rose."

I'm looking over at him. He looks up at me, nodding his head. He thinks it's a terrific idea.

"Is there a chance I could convince the two of you to travel to New York? We all meet, and, A, you could go through some of the music while you are here."

"Sit down and what, devise a strategy for next year?" A asks as he's doodling.

"Exactly. And one other thing, Amadeus, you need to hook up with a management and publicity firm. There's a lot of stuff I just can't handle that's out of the scope of the label. Be thinking about it. So, when do you think you can come?"

"I'll get back to you, Robert. Would next week work for you? And as far as A's management slash publicity team? You're talking to her." I can't believe what's just rolled off my tongue. What am I, crazy? The room is silent for a minute.

Amadeus hasn't moved. He's still focused on the pad in front of him as he's drawing, but he's smiling as he continues.

"Zara?" I hear Robert's voice finally.

"What? Amadeus had two management teams, one you and I hand-picked, which I might add, turned out to be a nightmare. I'm not going to sit and watch that happen again. So, unless A has a problem, I'm his manager and publicist, and you can start referring people to me."

"A, what do you think? The two of you being, uh, so close isn't going to be a problem?"

"Robert," Amadeus starts, "no. As far as our personal relationship, well, Zara and I got married while we were in France."

"Well, congrats you two, although I must say it doesn't come as a huge surprise. Zara, you call me once things are set up."

We sit looking at each other. Amadeus takes my hand and squeezes, those haunting blue eyes watching me. He's trying to keep his excitement in check.

"Oops, that slipped out!" He's laughing like a naughty boy. "Who else do we need to rattle?"

"You know who. I think we need to make the first move and phone his people." I was talking about Amadeus's new biggest fan, the famed artist, Peter McNichol, who is interested in working with A. I place a call to his Manhattan apartment and talk with his contact person, John. I let him know Amadeus is off the road and home and leave my number. Now we wait.

With the cupboards looking pitiful and neither of the two of us wanting to venture out to a restaurant, I order a pizza. We sit on the floor in the living room, feasting on what we're sure is the best pizza ever made. Having had our fill, we lean back against the sofa like two satisfied ticks.

Knowing his parents are due a call affirming our return, he leaves a message.

The following morning I'm up at the crack of dawn, leaving Amadeus peacefully sleeping. I shut the bedroom door, and after making a pot of coffee, I start sorting clothes for washing. A couple hours and several loads later, I'm taking a break, sipping yet another cup and he wanders into the living room.

"Any coffee left?" he inquires, rubbing his hands across his face, attempting to wake himself up after probably one of the longest night's sleep he's had.

"It's been sitting a while. Let me go make a fresh pot." He nods, taking hold of my mug and finishing the remainder as I head to the kitchen.

Returning bearing a carafe and mug, I sit next to him, pouring a fresh cup and handing it to him and repeating the process for myself.

"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long."

"I couldn't sleep, so I started doing laundry."

We turn our attention to New York. Preparing to leave the next morning, my phone goes off, and at the other end is Peter McNichol himself. Learning we're on our way to Manhattan for a small number of days, he invites Amadeus and me to his apartment for lunch and conversation. I frantically jot down his information. The wheels are in motion.

***

Hours later and at the other side of the country, my Manhattan apartment is a delightful diversion to the "city that never sleeps". Months have passed since I stepped foot inside. Thank goodness I had sense enough to enlist my dear friend and neighbor, Kim, to schedule her housekeeper to give my place a good scrubbing. I'm sure twelve inches of dust have accumulated. And she didn't disappoint.

Entering, I'm relieved the apartment doesn't tattle that no one has been there recently. Quite the opposite, it smells fresh and looks neat as a pin. A one bedroom flat with a large, airy living room and a not so bad view of the city. Kim, bless her heart. had the foresight to make sure we'd have dinner tonight, having left a huge meal from a local Italian restaurant Kim and I frequent when I'm in town. A bottle of red wine sits on the counter, completing the meal.

Staying in for the night, Amadeus and I share dinner on the coffee table. Lacking room for both a dining room table and a desk, I chose to use that area as my home office as if I do eat in when I'm home, I'm not fancy. Having cleaned up after our meal, I take time to ready myself and Amadeus for what lies ahead.

Lunch with Peter McNichol is scheduled for tomorrow, followed by our meeting with Robert and others at Amadeus's label. Now that I've taken him on as my client, organization and planning for both events is crucial.

"A, once we know exactly what Peter is considering for the two of you, our meeting with Robert and Joe will flow better. I don't want to bring Peter into the mix if we don't have a plan with him. If there is a plan, we'll include part of it."

"Advise them you're scheduling around Peter."

"Exactly. If we leave Peter tomorrow, and everything is kind of up in the air, I'll merely mention there are some other ideas we're considering. Should we have something firm, I'll bring them in on what they need to know," I reply, typing notes as fast as I can.

"Well, Mrs. Tudor, as my manager, I'll leave the details to you. As my wife, why don't you wind things up for tonight?" He stands from the chrome and leather Italian chair strategically placed at the side of my desk, stretching his long frame.

"I am, just let me finish these notes and print them, and I'm done."

## Chapter 7

Peter McNichol's Manhattan apartment is nothing as I imagined. Modestly furnished for a man who can afford anything, the space doubles as his New York office, which is what you walk into when you first enter his home. Living area is independent and private. He greets us in the living room, which is inviting with family photos throughout and drawings from his grandchildren. The three of us chat for a while until lunch is ready. We take our discussion into the dining room to enjoy a delicious vegetarian meal, a first for either Amadeus or me.

Our conversation turns to business as we relax, enjoying our tea. Peter has obviously thought this out in considerable detail.

"Amadeus, I want to get together and see what we can come up with. I don't know your schedule, but I'm pretty open through the end of January. How would you and Zara like to come over to England? You'll stay at my farm, and we will use my studio and see what we can bang out. Sound all right with you?" He's looking at both of us for an answer, sipping his tea.

"Yes, sounds good to me." Amadeus replies, glancing in my direction for guidance. "Zara, can we do it?"

"Yes, of course. Your schedule is wide open as well until after the new year."

"Fantastic!" Peter exclaims. I love his accent and the cadence of his voice. I could listen to him speak all day. "I'll get the wheels in motion. One other thing to ask; I'd like to invite Amadeus to perform at my upcoming charity event."

I'm speechless, as is A. Peter holds a large concert late every year, an annual event. Artists are not paid, they give their time. The media exposure alone makes participating priceless. He holds the event in New York City, and the whole production is taped for later broadcast on television.

Amadeus does not wait to give his response to such a prestigious occasion. "Yes, I'd be honored to perform."

The two of us leave floating, we're so thrilled. Peter tells us he'll have someone get with us on the details for both his benefit and our trip to England.

This is exactly what Amadeus needs as he embarks on this new phase of his career. Not only is he going to be writing with Peter McNichol, he's been invited to perform at what is claimed to be the most sought after invite of the year.

At the home office of Magnum Entertainment, Amadeus's record label, we are greeted by Robert, who walks us to a conference room. Joe Anthony is the only person I remember other than Magnum's resident attorney, Max Wilson.

Robert chairs the meeting and doesn't waste time doing so, and after congratulating the two of us, gets down to the business at hand.

"Okay, we've got tons to cover, so let's get started. We've been able to rework the tour, moving all the missed dates to after the first of the year. We allowed refunds on tickets because we're sure these folks will repurchase."

"Is there a definite start date?" I inquire, knowing full well there is.

"January 28th in Dallas," Robert replies.

"We'd like to put out a CD before the tour. Amadeus finished lots of tracks without Tudor Rose we can use," Joe Martin announces.

"Amadeus, your thoughts?" Robert asks, knowing his client is a perfectionist and won't settle with mediocre, not up to his high standards.

"Well, I need to listen before I commit. I don't want to put stuff out if it looks like we're rushing to get new material out and the songs are crap."

"Can you do that while you're in Manhattan?" Joe pushes, the executive in him unveiling itself.

A looks at me for an answer. "Yeah, I'll find time. We're not scheduled to leave for two days."

"Good," Robert replies, "now the next part, of course, will be exposure. We'll need to get a photo shoot set up for the cover shot and all."

"Perhaps I can set something up with a photographer in Seattle unless the process has started here?" I ask, adding, "I've also got some photos I want to use in the CD and his PR packet."

"Do you have someone in mind or a concept?" Joe asks as he's scribbling notes on his legal pad.

"I've got a couple people along with a concept. I'll get back to you once I cement everything."

Robert takes us off course on to an altogether different matter.

"Max will address this next issue."

Max sits up, his position changing to that of a lawyer. He's got my attention piqued.

"I don't know any other way to deal with this than to dive right in. Amadeus, Zara, remember the threats sent to you? Well, they've resumed. This time, authorities are involved." He pushes a photo copy of two notes across the table. We read them, and A turns it over. He's visibly shaken by the news. His features are hard, jaw clamped, a muscle twitching along the jaw line.

"What now?" he asks no one in particular.

Max continues, "Be aware of your surroundings. Zara, since you took on security last time, just be in tune to those around you. It may be nothing, but that's why I brought in the authorities. The media are not being told a thing."

I nod, glancing over at A, whose position hasn't changed.

"Zara, you got anything lined up for Amadeus other than what we've been talking about here?" Robert asks, trying to get Amadeus's mind off all Max just delivered.

"Yes, I do, and it's pretty damn exciting. I think ya'll remember Peter McNichol met with us after one of Tudor Rose's concerts. Well, he and Amadeus are going to get together and write. And," I tease with the next item, "Peter invited Amadeus to perform at his annual charity concert this year."

"Wow, that is incredible, Zara. I know you said yes! When..." Robert starts, but I shut things down, not wanting to give away everything.

"Details are being worked out as we speak. We're both stoked about all this."

"I see," Joe beams, "that's wonderful news. Peter McNichol. Wow is all I can say! One last thing Amadeus, a band. Are you going to put together another one like Tudor Rose or just a group to back you up?"

"I think a backup band is all I need for now. Zara and I are considering Los Angeles or Seattle to hold auditions, depending on what we can come up with as far as a studio or warehouse to conduct them."

"Great, just call if you need anything from us."

We leave the office later pleased with the progress being made, except for one, the "stalker" or whoever put Amadeus on their radar. I am, however, determined not to let this one hiccup ruin the good things going on.

The next two days go by fast. Amadeus spends a couple of afternoons in Magnum's studio listening to what could be added to a new CD. Fortunately, Amadeus is meticulous in his craft, and with some tweaking from the engineers, it will sound even better.

While he's working, I put a schedule together for the remainder of the year. Auditions, we decide, will be held in Seattle rather than setting up in yet another location. If musicians are truly interested, they'll come. I discreetly put notices out in various trade publications and word of mouth.

The only large omissions from my schedule are our trip to meet up with Peter McNichol and the where we'll be over the upcoming holidays. I'll speak with Amadeus on what his family does as far as getting together, and I need to talk to Grace about details.

Upon returning to Seattle, our pace of life is not as laid back as before, but perfection is in charge, and all comes together and everything is accomplished.

I'm waiting at home on Amadeus to return from a dental appointment when I get a call from Grace.

"Zara, I'm sorry I didn't get back with you sooner. You mentioned Thanksgiving. What can I tell you?"

"Everything," I reply. "Amadeus's answers to any questions I might have are to ask you!"

"That sounds about right. Men!" She graciously walks me through the day and meal. "I extended an invitation to Damien and Julia."

"Perhaps the holiday will make a difference."

"Yes, we can hope. Amadeus did let you in about our annual day after shopping trip, didn't he? We leave at four or five in the morning and shop till we drop!"

Oh crap, now I have to be the one to tell her about the show in New York. "Yes, he did, but I'm afraid we're leaving Friday, Grace. He's been invited to perform at an annual charity concert Peter McNichol sponsors every year."

Silence. She says nothing. "I see," she finally replies frostily, "I guess that's a good thing for Amadeus then."

"Yes, Peter McNichol personally asked Amadeus." The temperature on this discussion has iced over, I tell myself, and I don't have a response to satisfy her.

"Well, good. I'll get back to you about what to bring, Zara. I'm not quite done with all the details."

Someone is watching after me because my beloved husband walks through the door moments after the conversation with his mother ended.

"Zara? What is it?"

"Crap, A, I think I just pissed your mom off."

"I find that hard to believe. You're being a little hypersensitive. This Thanksgiving is our first, and the experience is unknown to you." The entire conversation with Grace pours out of me like a river flowing. I'm on the verge of tears, but as usual he finds the good, pointing everything out to me.

"Wait until she finds out we're leaving New York after the concert for London, Zara," he laughs as he conjures up the vision in his head. "For her, the holidays are special, and she wants, no, she expects family around her. This year she's going to have to accept things as they fall."

I nod my head in agreement. "I'm sorry, I didn't even ask how your dental appointment went."

"Fine," he says, smiling mischievously.

Whatever this latest alleged threat against Amadeus is, I'm not aware of anything out of the ordinary and am confident all remains quiet. Artie and his friend are in the middle of legal issues stemming from Tudor Rose. He has the resources to have his attorneys keep everything tied up in limbo for years. I intend our first holiday season is going to be special even with my guard up.

Thanksgiving is upon us fast. We arrive at Grace and William's, knowing we have to tell them of our pending trip to London. I take a chocolate cake I make from scratch that Amadeus loves. Not a traditional Thanksgiving dessert, but he confesses he isn't a huge fan of seasonal pies and overly sweet cakes.

I send Julia an e-mail regarding Thanksgiving, asking her to consider attending with Damien and their girls, since the lawsuit has nothing to do with William and Grace. I'm pleasantly surprised when we arrive and find Amadeus's oldest brother there. Damien is in high spirits, and except for the physical reminders of his stroke, he participates in all the taunting and teasing going on between the siblings.

The clan gathers in the dining room for the feast. I'm overwhelmed by the throng of people. My own family gave up functions like this long ago. We're all too spread out all over the globe. After dinner, a lot of time is spent at the table, everyone catching up with each other.

"Girls, Zara won't be able to join us tomorrow," Grace begins, "I'm afraid. She and Amadeus must leave for New York City."

"Wait a minute," Angus interrupts, "what is so damned important?"

Grace continues, "Amadeus is to perform at some la de da benefit."

"What benefit concert?"

"Peter McNichol asked me to perform at his annual charity gig," Amadeus replies. The entire table is quiet, and we're the "sacrificial lambs". Everyone is mesmerized waiting for the details.

" _The_ Peter McNichol asked you, Amadeus Tudor, to perform at his benefit?" Angus asks, shaking his head. "Why?"

"Because," I break in, "Peter McNichol evidently is quite a fan of your brother's music."

"Cool, I'm happy for you, A," Damien chimes in. "I'm proud of you, little brother." The statement is the first comment Damien's made in all the family commotion.

"Thanks, the show is supposed to be broadcast some time before Christmas on network TV." Amadeus shoots me a glance out of the corner of his eye. We should let them in on our trip to England now.

"Something else, Zara and I are heading to England afterwards for about ten days. Peter invited us. He and I are planning to do some writing."

"Amadeus, congratulations," William tells his youngest.

We take in all the well wishes from this noisy bunch. Grace gives us her support, but not before she voices her opinion. "Where exactly are you going to in England? You are coming back for Christmas, aren't you?"

"We're staying at Peter's farm. His farm is a little over an hour outside London, I believe, and of course, we'll be home for Christmas," I reply, wrapping my arm around , who's seated next to me.

"Wait, you're going to stay at his farm, his personal home?" Angus asks us. "Man!"

The day progresses, children and adults alike taking advantage of a rarely seen clear November day. While football reigns outside in the yard and on the TV, Amadeus finds us an out of the way, quiet corner. A huge, overstuffed chair does the trick as we curl up together. I'm losing myself in pleasure as he caresses and massages my arm, keeping me close, until the sound of screaming, unruly children run through our tranquil retreat. We rejoin the group, laughing.

I head into the kitchen looking for a glass. Amadeus wants something to drink. Grace is heading out, but stays, showing me where to find what I'd come for.

"Zara, am I imaging things, or does Amadeus seem to be a little more, how shall I say, protective of you?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's just enjoying the day, Grace. We won't have a lot of time to ourselves after today, not until we return from England."

"You're probably right. I'm not used to seeing him so content. He's always been quite restless."

Armed with his drink, I return only to find A moved outside, running through the backyard, football tucked under his arm, nephews and nieces in hot pursuit. I watch for a few minutes before joining the women, who are in a discussion about their children's antics, before they pull me in and turn the conversation to Amadeus and me.

"Do you and Amadeus want children, Zara?" Anne inquires, picking up her mug of hot tea.

"Yes, we do."

"My advice, Zara, don't wait or next thing you know years pass and your biological clock runs out." Anne has four children with her husband, Chris.

"Anne is right, my dear," Grace chimes in, "too many women wait and then they have to resort to fertility treatments."

"I'm aware of the consequences." Ha! I think to myself, if they only knew we've never used any type of birth control. Tongues certainly would be wagging.

Seeking refuge from this personal discussion, I scan the yard for Amadeus. I spot him on the patio, deep in conversation with Damien. I find my escape route, and Julia joins me.

"You don't mind if I take some pictures, do you?" I ask, motioning toward the two.

"No, of course not. You realize, Zara, the law suit is a moot point now. Tudor Rose doesn't exist, at least as their previous form, and Amadeus is well on his way as a solo artist. No hard feelings?"

"There never were any hard feelings, Julia, just confusion."

Grace overhears this and is beside herself with joy. "Julia, that's the best news. Thank you."

"No need, Grace, it's the right thing to do. I just want to protect what's rightfully Damien's, especially after all he's been through."

I grab my camera and start toward the door. "I've got to get this now, before they move on to something else."

I approach the two, who are still engrossed in their reunion, and start taking pictures randomly. A stands and drags another chair over next to his. I sit while these two siblings catch up. I've met Damien throughout the years, but it has generally been in a public setting. He's a shell of what he had once been. In his day, Damien was known as a hard core partier, at least that was his image as a performer. In private, he was very devoted to his wife and kids. Now, after having survived a serious stroke at a young age, his world has done a one eighty turn around. While it's obvious his mind is as sharp as ever, his words now come almost forced. Speech takes thought. While he can walk, he does so with effort, preferring to use a wheelchair for long distances.

"Zara, I was telling my brother here he has a once in a lifetime opportunity now as a solo artist. He's always been the one with the most talent. He needs to embrace this new phase of his career. I know you'll help him go far."

"Thank you, Damien," I reply, "that means a lot. I hope you can come see him perform next year."

"Have any of the guys from Tudor Rose been in touch, A? That whole thing does not make sense as long as you've all known each other."

"No, I've had no contact with them. Not my choice; I'd like to have them answer a few things."

Amadeus senses his brother is tiring from all the day's activities, and once he assists him into the house, takes full advantage of carving out an exit for us. He feigns the preparation we still have to finish for our trip in the morning.

The ride home is for the most part quiet. The activities of the day have left us drained.

"Did you have fun, Zara? I know you're not accustomed to large, crazy family functions like today's. We didn't scare you off, did we?"

"I was fine, once I eased myself into the fray. You were a big help, so no ya'll didn't scare me off." He's right, my family gatherings were nothing like what I witnessed today, not Thanksgiving anyway.

"I was impressed with Julia, bringing Damien and the girls in spite of the law suit," he adds, a slight grin coming across his face at the thought.

"She told me the whole lawsuit was a moot point now. Protecting Damien's legacy is all it was ever about. So, I imagine we'll be seeing a lot more of them now. I hope so for Damien's sake. He really seemed happy being around everyone."

"Yeah, he looked good, didn't he? We talked for a long time this afternoon, first time the two of us have been able to do that in quite a long time." He pauses. "And I pray Julia does drop that lawsuit."

The remainder of the holiday is spent packing for both our trips. I had begun organizing a few weeks prior, laying everything out in the extra bedroom, out of the way. It has proved to made the job a lot easier.

As I finish up, I realize Amadeus is at his piano playing a classical piece. I stand in the hallway, listening to his superb rendition of the music. I quietly enter the living room and sit on the sofa. He's unaware of my presence at first, and when he does catch sight of me, merely continues until he completes the piece.

"I don't think I've heard you play in ages. You need to play more."

"Well, I've had a few other things that have preoccupied me lately." He grins as he walks over and sits beside me.

"Don't stop because of me, please continue. I'd love to hear more."

"Would you now?" he teases as his hand finds my cheek and our mouths meet for a kiss. His tongue outlines my lips before I imitate his action, and we each begin to explore the depths and sweetness of the other. When our lips finally part, I break free of the intoxicating effect he has on me.

"Yes, I would love to hear more, but it's getting late, A, and we should probably call it a day. We have to get up early to get to the airport." I stand and start walking through the room, turning off lights. I glance over at the sofa. He's still sitting where I left him. I walk back toward him and offer my hand.

"You've never refused me, Zara," he exclaims as he gets up with my help, trying to look hurt.

"I'm not refusing you, my love. I would never do that. We are, though, going to have to learn to prioritize."

"Zara, please! I can't wait any longer. Please?" He starts down the hall taking me in tow toward the bedroom.

Locked in passion, his hands explore until his desire is found. He forces my legs apart, then plunges his throbbing erection, penetrating deep within me. We move together, his rocking becoming harder, quicker, until both his hands are beneath me, holding me tighter against him as the most white hot, sublime pleasure consumes us.

Unsure if I fell asleep, I'm entranced by his soft caresses to my behind. I vaguely can visualize he's next to me on his side. Soon his hand strays off its course, parting my legs enough enabling him to feel the extent of my womanhood.

"Amadeus?"

"What, love? I'm right here."

"Hmm, I don't know."

He kisses my ear and whispers, "I love you Zara. Thank you."

"For what?"

He chuckles, "For allowing me to be a rutting boar and fuck you. I wasn't very romantic, but I felt as though I was going to explode if I didn't get some relief."

"Feel better now?" I ask as I feel sleep coming on fast.

"Much. I love you, Zara."

## Chapter 8

We settle in for the long cross continent flight. I pull out my laptop, intending to catch up on projects I keep putting off. Once we arrive in Manhattan, I know there will be little time for such matters. My sweet husband sleeps the better portion of the flight. Damn him! I envy his ability to sleep so easily.

Peter goes to extraordinary lengths to ensure all involved in his benefit are comfortable, and their needs met. Amadeus and I are met at the airport and driven to my Manhattan apartment.

It's late in the afternoon, too early for dinner. I poke through the pantry and find a can of chicken and crackers. I throw a small bowl of chicken salad together and carry it along with the box of crackers into the living room. A finds a bottle of water and a soda in the refrigerator. I sit and watch him eat. I can't touch a thing. I'm tired along with being excited about the week-end and conclude that's the reason I don't have an appetite. Deciding to lie down before we have to get ready for the dinner Peter is hosting, I kiss Amadeus as I head for the bedroom.

"Please be sure to get me up no later than seven."

Dinner is a lavish affair, a who's who of the entertainment industry and then some. Amadeus is the only new artist Peter has invited to perform this year and has seated us at the head table with him, a real honor. Peter introduces Amadeus, welcoming him to the prestigious group of musicians. The meal is vegetarian, which I knew ahead of time that it would be. I pick my way through it enough so I don't offend our host. The evening takes a life of its own with some of the spur of the moment jam sessions taking place. It doesn't take much convincing to get Amadeus to join in. I watch him from the sidelines, always observing, smiling and encouraging him all the way. And no, I'm not just sitting back, I'm networking, always searching out new opportunities for Amadeus. He finally takes his leave, begging off, citing early morning appointments.

Returning to the tranquility of the apartment, Amadeus voices some concerns.

"You all right, Zara? I know vegetarian fare isn't your favorite, but you barely ate a thing."

"I'm fine. I wasn't hungry. I'm just tired, A, really tired." Hoping this appeases him, I crawl into bed. "Come on, we've got a huge day tomorrow."

He lies next to me, kissing me as he stays close, unconvinced by my explanation.

The benefit is an enormous success, raising awareness as well as money. Amadeus and I both agreed afterwards it was the most fun either of us ever had at a charity event. Although I'm nervous about having to sit in the audience, away from him, I hide any feelings and do it. The threats against him still resonate within me, even though I'm pretty well convinced I know where they are coming from. I'm hyper vigilant in my observations.

When the time comes for Amadeus to perform, I'm busting with pride at how well received his material is. To everyone's amazement, Peter joins him on stage toward the end of his song, and the two continue on into another.

Media frenzy after the benefit is putting it mildly. There are photographers, news programs, and everyone wants a piece of Amadeus. He and Peter pose for pictures and together take questions. Finally, we leave, arriving at the apartment still on an adrenaline high. After rehashing the show as well as his performance for a couple of hours, we're quiet enough to call it a night, but neither of us can fall asleep. Amadeus, frustrated by his inability to sleep, curls up against me and begins kissing me. He raises himself over me, kissing my body slowly, carefully. Once he's sure I've had enough of him, he straddles me, consuming me until we're both exhausted and fall fast asleep.

***

London has always been one of our favorite cities. The hotel I booked us into in London is located in the Kensington area of London, one of the prominent neighborhoods. We are met at Heathrow by the hotel's complimentary airport service. The room we settle into is spacious, exquisitely furnished, and quiet. Kensington Palace can be seen in the near distance. A bottle of champagne on ice from Peter McNichol waits on the sideboard. A card is attached welcoming us to London.

As we aren't due to meet Peter at his farm until Tuesday, Amadeus decides he wants to rent a car, allowing us time to sightsee on our own through the countryside. We leave the following morning after a quiet night in and a much elusive good night's sleep.

Amadeus masters driving on the 'wrong side' of the road in no time, and we're on our way. Knowing my love of historical churches, he has mapped out a couple to visit. We stop and take a tour of Windsor Castle, driving on to Stonehenge. Having my camera at my side, I'm documenting our 'road trip' in every detail. Trying to keep things organized, I download the day's photos to my laptop every evening, e-mailing a copy to myself as a backup.

Doing things by the seat of our pants, we find a small bed and breakfast near Salisbury to spend the night. Salisbury Cathedral is our destination the following day. The weather is typical English wintery weather: cold and blustery. For dinner suggestions, we ask the establishment's owner, a plump, cheerful woman who started the B&B with her husband, fulfilling a lifelong dream. Margaret points us in the direction of a small, locally owned restaurant. We aren't disappointed with our meal. Everything used is local— produce, meat, seafood— which is brought from the not too far sea.

The cathedral does not disappoint. This is what I love about traveling: historic sites. Nothing we have in the U.S. can come close in age. The cathedral was built in the thirteenth century. Amadeus and I are both in awe of historic architecture like this.

Our next destination is Peter's farm, which is situated southeast of London. He's had the farm for years. It's where his children grew up and is an actual working farm. Luckily he gave Amadeus clear directions, and we have a GPS in our rental car, so finding the farm is relatively easy.

Peter walks out of the house to greet us. The house is nothing like I would have imagined since he could easily afford to tear this one down and build whatever he wants. It's a large, two story structure in a classic English style. Inside is quite comfortable, like his Manhattan apartment. Later in the afternoon, he takes us on a walking tour of the farm. Fortunately, we did it this first day because rain came in later and stayed for the next couple of days, leaving mud everywhere.

The two musicians spend hours in Peter's home studio. Peter, while he's quite accommodating, is also an intensely private person, and I'm grateful that he's allowed me access to photograph him and Amadeus in his home and studio.

One afternoon while the two are taking a break, I sit down with them. Peter gives me a lesson on how to prepare a proper pot of tea, and while we are waiting, the three of us sit at the kitchen table. The conversation turns to Amadeus and his future.

"Amadeus is pretty set on you resuming your role as his manager and publicist. How do you feel about it, Zara?"

"Well," I begin, glancing over at A, "my first thought is to hire good people to take on a lot of the actual work for me. That will allow me the ability to go after new offers, oversee things more efficiently. Now that we're married, I have to be able to shut it off. Why? Do you think that's a bad idea?"

"No, not at all. I think you of all people can effectively and successfully guide his career. You've proven that. Have you thought about creating something like what I have?"

"Yes, I have and we've talked about it extensively. We would essentially be keeping everything involving career under one roof."

"I have your first project, madam manager. Amadeus and I are releasing a track together. We'll have my people handle the details this time. A and I were thinking of hooking up on the road from time to time. I'm looking forward to all this."

Our visit with Peter flies by too fast. Amadeus and I head back to London the day before our scheduled flight. With Christmas just weeks away, we spent our afternoon and evening enjoying the holiday sights, even shopping at London's famous Harrods department store.

## Chapter 9

We quietly arrive back in Seattle late at night. It's cold and blustery Seattle weather. The condo is freakin' freezing when we arrive. Turning the furnace up, we scramble for the warmth of our bed, which is cold, as well. Giggling like kids, we pull the covers entirely over us, holding each other until the chill on the sheets warm from our body heat.

"Well, we're home, Zara," he begins, pushing the covers down a bit, so we can breathe. "I don't have to hold anything back when I'm here with you."

"What do you hold back?" I ask. I would never guess that he has anything more to hold back.

"Hmmm, wouldn't you like to know? I'll have to show you."

"Amadeus, I swear you have a one track mind sometimes."

"Yes, but you seem to love it." He laughs, slapping my butt. "Now take off your clothes."

"It's too cold!"

"I'll warm you up, baby. Besides, I had to put up with you in those ridiculous nightgowns you wore in England."

"You know why I did. Besides, it was cold at night on that farm."

Before he can spar with me any further, the phone rings. Saved by the bell, so to speak! I look over at Amadeus and shake my head, so he won't answer it. It's way too late for people to be calling. I get out of bed to look at the caller id on the phone. The call shows up as unknown.

"Aren't you over-reacting?" he asks.

"No, it's almost two in the morning. The only people who should call at this hour are family," I reply, flipping through to see who else has called.

"Zara, you know there's always going to be someone who calls at off hours. It's the nature of the business."

"Not any more. I'm about to make some changes and put a stop to it."

"Okay, babe, whatever," he replies pushing the covers off him to the foot of the bed. Swinging his legs over the side, he kisses me and starts into the bathroom.

"I'm going to get a bottle of water, want anything?"

He mumbles something. When I return, he's back in bed, looking at the ceiling.

"Here, I found a beer."

He takes the bottle from me, sitting up. "I didn't realize how tired I was until I got up. I'm glad not to have to go anywhere for a while."

I stand on his side of the bed and take off my clothes, laying them in a nearby chair. Tossing my bottle of water on the other side of the bed, I lift the covers, crawling over him to get to my space. I lie over him as he lowers the sheet on us, his hands exploring the skin on my back.

"Better?" I ask, kissing him.

"Much. Thank you, baby."

I start over to my side, placing my water on the night table, turning off the lamp before scooting my backside next to him. I feel his arm pull me closer.

"This is nice. I've missed this."

"What have you missed?" he asks.

"Being naked next to you."

"Mmmm. Me, too." He runs his hand over my body before pulling me tight against him. "Good night, baby."

"Good night, A."

The next morning, the phone wakes us up. Amadeus answers it, half asleep. It's his mother.

"We didn't get in until after midnight...I don't know, Mother. I'd have to talk to Zara. I'll have her call you."

He sets the phone down and looks over at me. I'm trying to get up. It's after ten in the morning. He grabs my arm, pulling me back.

"Where are you going?"

"Make coffee," I reply, taking my arm back.

"Coffee can wait." He pulls me next to him. "Come here, see what you did?" He kisses my cheek, positioning himself over me, "Spread your legs for me, baby." He finds what he's after and quickly satisfies himself. He collapses on me, out of breath.

"Feel better?" I whisper to him.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, baby. The sight of you sitting there naked..."

"Don't, it's okay, A. You can pay back later." I try to laugh naughtily, pushing him off me and getting myself out of bed as fast as I can.

"Zara, don't tease."

"I'm not. Now I'm going to make some coffee. I need to see what's been going on and call your mother back."

I tie my robe, throwing the panties I had in the chair at him as I scoot out of the room.

***

There is so much going on this time of year. On top of settling in after our trip, Amadeus has projects coming up in January that have to be coordinated and executed. His project with Peter McNichol will hit stores before he goes back on tour the end of the month. And then there's the tour to get ready for.

His first solo CD on Magnum is due out the twentieth of December, and the artwork is not what we had talked about. Magnum has gone with what they chose and did not include any of the photos I submitted. This will be a matter of contention between Robert and me.

Christmas is upon us, also. Amadeus's family won't have a huge dinner or anything since we did Thanksgiving together. He tried inviting them to join us on Christmas day, but they have made plans. So it will just be the two of us, and that's fine. My decorating so far has been minimal. He literally has no Christmas decorations, so we decide since we'll probably buy a house, and with minimal storage now, to just decorate economically. I've decided to cook the two of us an elegant dinner Christmas day. After all, it is our first Christmas.

We coordinate a shopping day, each going in our own way, but doing it at the same time. Shopping for him won't be difficult. I've decided to get him some new clothes and an iPad he's been leaving hints about. I've also got a doctor's appointment. I should have already been, but our trip to England and Manhattan after Thanksgiving pushed it off until now. This will be Amadeus's big Christmas present. He's going to be so thrilled when he finds out. I've suspected I'm pregnant for a while now. I snuck a pregnancy test in, and it was positive, which I knew it would be. I'm surprised Amadeus hasn't suspected or started asking questions or something. I've noticed changes in my stomach; I have a bump, and I haven't had a period since before we started having sex.

Somehow I manage to beat him home and hide all my purchases. I put all the information from the doctor away where he won't find any of it. True to my calculation and notes I've kept in my planner, I conceived the first time we made love. Conceiving is obviously not a problem for us. I hate keeping this from him, but it'll make a fabulous Christmas present, and I hope I can keep it from him until then.

He walks in about an hour after me, and he's empty-handed! I mess around with a table top tree I bought, trying to attach the small ornaments to the branches.

"Hey, where'd you get this?" he asks, kissing me and flopping down on the sofa.

"You like it? I thought we needed some kind of tree. I'm going to put it on the piano."

"Yeah, I like it. It'll look good over there."

"So how was your afternoon?" I ask, trying to pretend I didn't notice he came back empty-handed.

"Good," he smiles, those blue eyes laughing. "I got a lot accomplished. And you?"

"I had an awesome time. I got everything I set out to get."

"Really? You didn't have trouble finding where you wanted to go?"

"No, the car has GPS, silly." Crap, I think to myself, he can check where I've been if he wants. "You hungry? I'll fix something if you can wait until I finish here."

For all the time I've known Amadeus, Christmas time is when he makes his annual visit to the children's hospital. He takes wagon loads of toys and passes them out, spending a couple of hours visiting the kids and their parents. I've been with him in the past on a few of these visits. No one ever asked him to do it; he simply started doing it once his career took off. He looks forward to the event, and this year it's even more special. We're married, and together we make the visit. It's obvious his love of children. It shines through.

Two days before Christmas, and I'm running around trying to get all my grocery shopping done. Amadeus wants to take me to the city market tomorrow. Something of a holiday tradition. I put my key in the door and almost fall over as he opens it, taking all the bags from me. I follow him into the kitchen, and he puts the bags on the floor. He takes my coat and disappears. I start putting everything away.

"Here, let me help you," he says, walking back in the room He takes a bunch of refrigerated items and walks over to the fridge.

"Thanks, A. I didn't realize how much I had." Then he throws me a curve.

"Oh, Zara, before I forget, Dr. Asher's office called. You need to call them back because they won't be back in the office until next Tuesday."

I try not to meet his stare. I can feel his eyes on me.

"Thanks. I'm going to go call them before I forget. Do you mind?"

"No, I'll finish here."

I dig through my pocketbook and find the business card. Dialing the doctor's number, I look up and catch a glimpse of Amadeus out of the corner of my eye. The nurse answers and finds my information and gives me my blood work results. I turn to see him standing against the wall.

"Who's Dr. Asher? You didn't tell me that you went to the doctor."

"Um, I went to find out why I've been so tired. He drew blood to see if anything's going on. And, turns out I'm fine. I'm sorry, I thought I told you."

"So now what? You supposed to go back?" he asks as he watches me close.

"I'm suppose to go for a follow-up next month. We'll go from there, I guess.

Christmas Eve, after our trek to the market, we're sitting on the sofa talking. It's too early to eat. The phone rings. It's his parents. He puts the phone on speaker, so we can both talk.

"Zara, Amadeus, Merry Christmas. Do you have any plans?" Grace asks.

"No, we're staying in," I reply. "I'm going to cook dinner tomorrow afternoon, but that's about it."

"What are you and Dad doing?" Amadeus asks.

There's a delay before Grace answers. "We're, uh, we're on our way to Damien's."

"You're spending the night and tomorrow?" Amadeus asks. He's clenched his jaw, and that muscle is twitching.

"Yes," Grace replies.

William comes on. "Well, look you two, we're probably going to lose you. We're out here on the ferry. Enjoy your first Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," I jump in. Amadeus stands, and his eyes are darting around. I mouth at him to say the same.

"Yeah, you and Mother have a Merry Christmas. Tell Damien we asked about him." He pushes the end button on the phone.

"Amadeus? Why did you do that?" Instead of answering, he walks over to the window.

I follow him over and stand as close as I can. I just witnessed some family dynamic I've been unaware existed. He keeps staring out. I put my arm around his waist, and as I do, he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulls me close, and kisses the top of my head.

"We're not going there tonight, okay? Let's just enjoy our evening."

"Sure."

"Come on. I'm gonna get a beer. You want one?"

I shake my head. I sit back on the sofa and wait for him. Should I tell him tonight or wait until morning? No, tomorrow.

I wake up Christmas morning and smell the coffee. The good Christmas coffee I bought. It's eight-thirty. A let me sleep in. I grab the robe off the chair and walk into the living room where he's sitting barefoot, clad only in his jeans. He jumps up as I enter, putting one arm around my waist, the other on my cheek, and kisses me.

I pull myself closer. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart." "Merry Christmas. Did you make my coffee?"

"Yes, ma'am I did. Can I get you a cup?" He releases his grip, heading for the kitchen, knowing my answer before I speak.

I pad over toward the windows, trying to sneak a peek at the tree on top of the piano. I can't get a decent enough look before he appears with my mug.

"Being nosy are we?" He grins, knowing he caught me. "Trying to see what Santa left, or should I say _if_ he left you anything."

He hands the mug to me. I reply, "What do you mean _if_?"

"Well, I don't know _if_ you were good enough this past year." He's getting immense pleasure in this.

"Come on and sit down, I get to do this."

He grabs my free hand. "In a minute. Come sit with me. Then we'll start." So we sit and try to drink coffee. Finally, I race over to the piano and get the boxes of clothes.

"Merry Christmas. You have to open all of them for it to make sense. You're not a kid, so I saw no point in dragging it out." He rips into the boxes and pulls out the shirts and jeans I've picked out for him.

"Thank you, baby. They're exactly what I've been wanting. Now wait here." He walks over and finds a box and brings it to me. "I hope you like this."

I tear off the wrapping and find a charcoal sketch I had admired at Peter's. It was one he had done. "Amadeus? I can't believe it."

"Peter gave it to me on the sly and told me to give it to you for Christmas. I believe he wrote something for you on the bottom right."

I look, and there's a dedication. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I take him the last present I have. His iPad. Which he loves.

He hands me a small jeweler's box. "I hope you like this." He sits back and watches me open the box. Inside is a ring with a large sapphire surrounded by smaller diamonds.

"Amadeus, it's beautiful. I don't know what to say. Thank you."

He pulls me next to him. "You like it then?"

"Yes, God, yes." I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He's going to get more than that in a minute.

"Good, I wasn't sure what to get you. I wanted to get you something special for our first Christmas."

"It's perfect."

"We've had quite a Christmas, haven't we?" He sits back on the sofa, watching me admire my hand. I haven't been able to take my eyes off it.

Okay, Zara, dummy, I think to myself. It's time. I stand up and turn back in front of him, straddling myself over his legs, putting my arms around him.

"I've got one more for you." He's eyeing me curiously like he's not sure what I'm up to. I've thought and thought about how I'm going to say this, and now I'm freezing up. "Amadeus, you know how we haven't used any protection all these months? Well, it seems we don't have any problem conceiving because, evidently, we made a baby the very first time." I've been watching him, and he has a shit eating grin on his face as he realizes what I'm telling him.

"Zara!" he shouts in my ear, "Baby, that's wonderful. When?" He's got my robe open, his hands wrapped around me.

"Five months. May 14th! I went to the doctor the day we each went shopping. I knew I was, but I wanted to get to a doctor and then tell you in a special way. And believe me, keeping it from you hasn't been easy."

"So, everything is okay? That was the doctor's office who called?"

"Everything is fine. And yes, that was the doctor who called. I'm scheduled to have a sonogram done after the first of the year."

He pulls me back to look at me better. I take his hand and place it on my bump, covering it with mine. He melds me with a passionate kiss, drawing me tighter.

## Chapter 10

Since we've been together, we really haven't had time for any sort of social life. If we aren't engrossed in each other, re-launching his career takes up our time. The threats are always at the forefront of my mind. Nothing has happened, but they're still real. So I'm surprised when old friends of his contact him with news of a party.

"Just who are these people, A?"

He rattles off names, some I have heard of, most I haven't. "Come on, Zara. Let's go. It'll be fun. It's just a bunch of people I've known for years who still get together. Besides, it's the holidays." He's working it. Flashing his best pout, those blue eyes of his melting my core. I give in.

"Okay, you win. We'll go. Where are we going?"

"Don Roberts is hosting it. He lives on the beach, so I'm sure it'll be out there. Unless it rains." Watching me, he walks next to me and squeezes me in a bear hug. "You're going as my wife this time, let me show you off. Kick back and enjoy yourself. Okay?"

I shake my head and smile at him. "Yeah." I walk back to the dining room table where I've been working. I'm not real warm and fuzzy about this party, but I'm not going to spoil it for him.

The evening of the party, I change at least three times before Amadeus stops me. "Zara, you look beautiful, baby."

"Sorry, I'm just nervous."

He bends over and kisses me. "Come on, let's go before we get sidetracked." He swats me on the rear, chuckling under his breath.

The drive takes longer than I thought. I'm not sure where we are. He turns down a street which is lined with cars. He finds a place to park, and we walk toward the host's house. A few people acknowledge him as we're walking in the house. He squeezes my hand.

A studious, balding gentleman welcomes us. "Amadeus Tudor! Let me look at you! I really didn't think you would come."

"Well, here I am!" Amadeus replies. "Don, this is my wife, Zara. Baby, this is Don Roberts."

"Married! When did you sneak this in?"

"A couple months ago," I reply.

"Zara. Wasn't she your manager, Tudor?" he asks, eyeing me over.

"Yes, and she still is. Don here owns his own techy company. At least he did."

"Yeah, I'm one of the computer nerds. But enough of that. You two come in and enjoy yourselves."

He escorts us to the bar. Amadeus takes a beer and hands me a diet soda. He leads me through the house and maze of people. We walk down to the beach and large fire where a crowd is mingling. Amadeus introduces me to countless people. I gaze across the fire and am taken aback by the sight of three of his former band mates and their significant others. I try not to let on I've seen them and refocus on the couple he's talking to. Too late, he's seen them. He bends down and whispers in my ear, asking me if I've seen them. I nod and we walk around, chatting with various people.

All shit starts when Johnny Roberts, one of his former lead guitarists, gets directly in Amadeus's face.

"So the great Amadeus Tudor has decided to grace the little people tonight. And you brought your wife? Is that what she is now? I thought she was just part of your harem."

I squeeze his hand. "A, come on." I try to lead him away, but he stands firm.

"What, cat got your tongue? Your woman has to talk for you?"

"I see you've still got your nasty disposition, John. There was a time when I'd take your ass to the ground. But you're not worth the effort." He turns from his former friend, puts his arm around my waist, and leads me toward the house. Glancing up at him, I can tell the fury is burning. His eyes are black pools, and it's taking every ounce of energy for him to maintain control.

A few more obscenities are hurled our direction, but we keep walking. He spots a couple he's known for years and introduces me. We sit with them, making small talk. Don appears, apologizing for the incident. Not keeping up with music, or apparently his friends, he claims he's unaware of what transpired months earlier. I have my antenna up. I am not comfortable here.

Don leaves us for a few minutes, then returns with two bowls of oyster chowder or stew. I politely refuse, but Amadeus digs in.

"It's a new recipe. What do you think, Amadeus?"

"This is great, Don. Don't mind Zara, she's not an oyster person."

Oysters about make me gag. Other friends of his join us, and they sit and talk about times long ago and inquire about Amadeus's life now.

He finally gets up and excuses himself for a few minutes. While he's away a couple of the guys apologize for the incident on the beach.

"Y'all weren't the ones behaving badly. So don't apologize for him."

I'm startled by how he looks when he returns. He motions to me, telling everyone we have somewhere else to go this evening. Don is nowhere to be found and A wants to go. Now.

We walk hurriedly to the car. "What's wrong, A"?

"I just started feeling bad. I didn't want everyone to know. That's all," he replies, but his face tells a different story.

"You're sure?" We reach the car, and he unlocks my door. I try to scowl at him. Let him know I'm concerned.

"I'll be fine, Zara. Let's go home."

We ride in silence. I finally recognize where we are. I glance over at him and can tell he is not feeling good. I lean over to stroke his hair. He's sweating profusely.

Suddenly, he pulls off the road and parks. Without saying a word, he's out of the car, throwing up violently. When he finally can stop, he opens my door.

"Zara, you've got to drive. I...." He turns around and starts throwing up again. I help him in. I spot a plastic bag, pick it up, and hand it to him, just in case.

Pulling back into traffic, I drive toward home. Concentrating is difficult as my concern is now turning into full blown worry. Still covered in sweat, Amadeus has both arms folded in front of him, hunched over. From my angle he appears to be shaking.

"Amadeus," I yell in his direction. "Amadeus, talk to me, sweetie. What's going on with you?" I get no answer out of him, only some sort of pitiful sound. His breathing is sounding labored.

A hospital sign flies by us on the freeway. I take the next exit, and like a crazed woman, I follow the signs to the hospital a few blocks away. I continue to the emergency room entrance.

Opening the passenger door, I'm panicked at Amadeus's appearance.

"Baby, come on. We're at the emergency room. They'll find out what's wrong." He doesn't respond to my voice at all.

The next thing I know, hospital staff have him out of the car and onto a gurney, wheeling him inside. A nurse stops me from following.

"We need some information from you first," a young nurse says, leading me away toward a desk. I sit and answer her questions, all the time looking toward the hallway where they took him.

While we are talking, a tall blond-headed doctor rushes over.

"Are you the one who brought Mr. Tudor in?" he asks, eyeing me carefully.

"Yes, I am. I'm his wife, Zara Tudor. You know him? What's wrong with him?"

"Amadeus and I have known each other since we were kids. I hate to ask you this, but what kind of drugs has he taken?"

I stare in disbelief at him, not sure I've heard right.

"Amadeus doesn't do drugs. He never has. And if you knew him like you say you do, you'd know that. He hates drugs."

"Well, he's on drugs now, and he's overdosing. I need to know what he took"

"No, that's not possible!" I scream. "He does NOT do drugs!"

"Okay, Zara. Come on, sit down. I'll be back in a while." He disappears back behind the double doors.

I'm hysterical, trying to comprehend what I've just been told. This cannot be happening. The young nurse I've been talking to brings me a glass of water. I gratefully take it from her and sip on it. Calming down, I sign the pile of paperwork. She takes me to a chair in the waiting room in a corner where I can gather my thoughts.

Replaying every second of this evening, I don't hear Joe Franco walk up.

"Hey, Zara. Remember me?" He's looking down at me as he sits in the chair next to mine.

"Of course, Joe. Why?"

"I was in the area, and when I heard Amadeus's name, I came over to see what was going on."

"The doctor who came to talk to me said he was on drugs, overdosing. He doesn't do drugs, Joe, never has. It makes no sense to me."

"Tell me about your evening. Where have you been?"

"We went to a party that some friends of his were having. I couldn't really tell you where it was. At a beach."

"Did Amadeus ever go off on his own to talk with any of his friends?"

"I know where this is headed. No, the only time we were not together was once when he suddenly had to go to the bathroom. When he came back, we left because he was feeling bad."

"Anything else? What did he drink, eat?"

"You know what was strange? A couple of his former band mates were there. He had a confrontation with one of them. He drank beer. The only thing he ate was some sort of oyster stew or chowder. I didn't eat any because I detest oysters."

"That's odd that someone would invite him to a party where they knew his former band members would be. Who gave the party?"

"Don Roberts. Amadeus has known him for years."

"Okay, that's a big help, Zara. Is there anyone you want me to contact for you?" he asks, standing up. "I'm going to hang around for a while."

"Oh, lord. I hate to do it. I guess I should call his parents?" I don't know if I'm asking or making a statement.

"That would probably be a good idea," Joe replies.

I find my phone and call William and Grace. William answers the phone, and I start to tell him what's going on and I lose it. The harsh reality that Amadeus may die clouds my thoughts. Joe takes the phone from me and explains the situation to William.

The doctor friend of Amadeus's reappears and sits next to me. "I'm not going to lie to you. He's in serious condition, Zara. He's ingested a whole cocktail of drugs into his system. We've pumped his stomach. That's a start."

"Can I see him, Bill?" I ask, noticing his name tag.

"Let us get him stabilized first. I'll come get you as soon as he is."

"What then?"

"He'll go to the ICU. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. He's still not stabilized enough to warrant moving him."

I nod my head. The two men I notice are looking at each other. In the background, I hear Grace's voice.

"Bill!" She rushes up with William in tow. Bill Collins, the doctor, once again explains condition.

"Well, how did he get the drugs? Zara?" I look up at her.

"I don't know, Grace. That's what we've been discussing." God, I think, they don't even know I'm pregnant! Bill interrupts our conversation before it turns into something it shouldn't.

"Grace, from what we can tell, he had to ingest the drugs orally. And since he doesn't do drugs, they had to be in something he ate or drank." He walks next to me and pats my shoulder. "I'll be back in a while to update you. Hopefully, by then he'll be stabilized and you can see him."

"Thanks." He leaves walking through the doors to the exam rooms.

Grace sits down on one side of me, William the other.

"Zara, would you like some coffee?" William asks.

"Yes, in a minute. I've got something I need to tell you both. This isn't how we were going to tell you." I'm fighting back the tears.

"What is it, Zara?" Grace asks, taking my hand.

"Amadeus and I are going to have a baby!"

"Zara, that's wonderful! When? When did you find out?" Grace asks, smiling over at William.

"May. I found out just before Christmas, but I didn't tell Amadeus until Christmas morning." The thought of that morning makes me start crying.

Grace puts her arm around me. "He's going to be fine, Zara. You'll see. Amadeus is tough." She shoos William off to get coffee. I still can't stop the tears.

After what seems like an eternity, Bill comes through the doors. The look on his face isn't very reassuring.

"Zara, I'll take you back to see him before we move him to the ICU. He's not out of the woods yet. I have him sedated. His body's been through a lot tonight, and he needs the rest. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are critical." He looks over at Grace and William.

"Go with Bill, Zara. We'll wait for you here," Grace whispers to me. I look over at her and try to give her a good game face.

"I'll bring her back here. You and William can see him once he's been moved."

He escorts me down the hall until we come to one of the sterile looking exam rooms. As he opens the door, the first thing I see is how pale Amadeus is lying there. A nurse is checking the IV pump, but no one else is in the room. Walking over to him, I brush the hair back off his forehead, then take his hand. I squeeze it, hoping he'll know I'm there. I bend over, kiss his cheek, and whisper in his ear. "I'm here, sweetheart. You're going to be fine. I love you, Amadeus." It's all I can do to speak the words. I feel the tears coming back again. Standing back up, I stroke his cheek and squeeze his hand again. He looks so vulnerable lying there. Come on, Zara, I say to myself, you've got to be strong for him now.

Bending back over him, I kiss him on the cheek once more. "I love you, Amadeus."

####
AUTHOR LINKS

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JAMIE SALISBURY

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https://twitter.com/JamieRSalisbury

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tudorrose829@gmail.com

About The Author

Writing romance stories with passion and sass, Jamie Salisbury has seen several of her books soar to #1 on Amazon. Her novella, Tudor Rubato was a finalist in the 2012 RONE (Reward of Novel Excellence) awards. The cover won for Best Contemporary Cover. In 2014, her novel, Life and Lies was nominated for a RONE in the Erotica category. Her books are self published.

Music, traveling and history are among her passions when not writing. Her previous career in public relations in and around the entertainment field has afforded her with a treasure trove of endless story ideas.
Contemporary Romances Available From Jamie Salisbury

Find them at: <http://www.jamiesalisbury.com/books.html>

The Tudor Dynasty Series

Book 1: Tudor Rose

Book 2: Tudor Rubato

Book 3: Tudor Reunion Tour

The Tudor Saga Series

Book 1: Encore!

Book 2: Archangel

The MacLeod Sisters Series

Book 1: Tartan Deadlines

Book 2: Kilted Cowboys

The Southern Heat Series

Book 1: Choice Matters

Book 2: Choice Affairs

Book 3: Choice Desires

Book 4: Choice Christmas

The Heartfelt Series

Book 1: Where Love Takes Us

Book 2: The Heart Knows

Book 3: Love Will Find A Way

Rock Spies Series

Book 1: Rockin' The Boss

Book 2: Life and Lies

Albert & Anne Series

Book 1: Perpetual Love

Single Titles

Timeless Sojourn

