Tudor Rose (The Tudor Dynasty Series) Read online

  “Come on, let’s go inside and make some calls.”

  We situate ourselves at the table. I notice it is only six in the morning. I remember that 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 preplanned, 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 did not count on either of you or anyone else connecting 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 of the break-up on Amadeus,” I add, scanning the article as I’m talking. “What now?”

  “Joe Anthony is here from NY. 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 and 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 with Tom Nix, see if he 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 it 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 for 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 to be 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 is silent, his reputation will get drug through the proverbial 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 it 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 stoop to Artie’s level. You have nothing earth shaking you have to do yourself. This will allow Joe and Robert time to come up with a strategy to re-launch you, with or without a Tudor Rose. But Amadeus, you‘re going to have to fire Artie as your management, 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 is from Amadeus’ 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, 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 Six

  We buy provisions for the boat, bring all our clothes and personal items, along with anything else we think might be needed. Amadeus suggests we buy a new lap top 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, laying in bed, our body’s 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. T
he 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 lay in the darkness in each other’s arms in silence. Finally, our bodies relax, and we fall deeply 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. He 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 you 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 times 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 discretely 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, I 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 Louve 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 are 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 one, 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’s 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 watching me, searching for my answer.

  “Yes.” He bends down, kisses me then raising off me, and 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, 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, balling the sheets with my fists and screaming 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 lay 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,” as 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 country side is full of beautiful farms and places to discover. We arrive at our final destination and settle into a 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 show 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 pull 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 exploring each 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 lay 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.