His Dutchess

chapter 10

Twenty-six hours after they said I do, the media found Samantha and Blake as they disembarked from Blake’s jet. Thank God she had the foresight to bring large framed sunglasses to hide the stress in her eyes.

The media hadn’t changed since her father’s arrest. They blocked their way, snapped pictures, and asked questions.

Blake kept a possessive arm around her waist as he ushered her from the airport.

With any luck, someone in Hollywood would fall off the wagon and remove the spotlight by the end of the weekend; otherwise, she’d be dealing with the paparazzi alone. Blake called out little things as they passed, words like, the love of my life and she knocked my socks off. He sounded so sincere. If she

wasn’t in on his ploy, even she would have believed him.

At one point, Blake dipped his lips to her ear and whispered, “It will be worse in Europe so take hold of your inner snob and smile.”

She laughed and leaned against him to make her way around a car door. The photo snapped at that moment made it on all major television channels and three tabloids magazines.

Blake’s friend Carter turned out to be a surprise. His blond hair and surfer good looks were opposite of her husband. He was smart, pragmatic, and had a killer sense of humor. He’d given Sam his cell phone number and encouraged her to use it if she needed anything while Blake was out of town.

As mapped out, Blake gave Samantha access to his home that sat above Malibu with beautiful ocean views. The estate was huge. Ten thousand square feet on ten acres. His staff included a cook, a maid, and a crew to care for the grounds. Neil, Blake’s driver, watched over the staff and lived in a guest cottage.

The size of the man would intimidate a football team. Blake made it clear that he

doubled as a bodyguard.

Once Samantha found herself back in her rented townhome, and she’d wished her husband a safe flight, she fell into thought. Blake’s assessment and execution of taking a wife had been an extremely smart move. Even a strong woman like herself turned her head at the wealth of her husband. She twisted the ring on her finger and admired it.

“I don’t even want to know what you cost,”

she murmured to her hand. She’d have to return it in fifty-four weeks, but she’d enjoy it until then.The door to her townhome slammed after she heard Eliza yell, “No

comment.”

“Holy s**t, how long are we going to have to put up with that?” More friend than employee, Eliza swung her purse off her arm and tossed it on the coffee table.

“They’ll go away in a day or two.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Been there, done that. Our divorce will bring out even more media.”

Eliza tossed a paper on the table. It opened to the now familiar photograph of Sam and Blake laughing. “You two are very convincing.”

Samantha smiled. Despite her desire for the media to disappear, she liked the pictures they’d taken. After all, they were her wedding photos. “We don’t look half bad together.”

“Half bad? You guys look happy as larks.”

“Do larks look happy?” Sam teased.

“I’ve no idea. I’m sorry I didn’t meet him when he dropped you off.” Eliza flopped onto the couch and tossed her long legs up on the coffee table.

“He didn’t, actually, his driver did.”

“Driver?” Eliza had the most amazing chocolate brown eyes that shot up with her question.

“He’s rich. Why on earth would he drive himself?” Samantha laughed and rolled her eyes, doing her best snob impersonation.

“Well, La-T-Da. Excuse me.” But her friend was laughing.

The business phone rang and Eliza jumped from the couch to answer it. “Alliance.”

Samantha lent half an ear while Elizlistened to the person on the line.

Even with him towering over her vertically challenged frame, the picture of her and Blake wasn’t that bad.

“We don’t have any comments at this time,”

Eliza was saying. “No, we’re not an escort service… Again, no comment.” With a frustrated sigh, she hung up.

“I should have seen that coming.” The media would tear up her business if given a chance.

“We should probably have a standard statement to give them.”

“Good idea. I’ll draft something and run it past Blake.”

The phone rang again with another reporter asking questions. Within a half an hour, Sam and Eliza gave up and unplugged the business line. With any luck, the hype would blow over soon. The publicity could bring in new clients, so long as Samantha could maintain their anonymity. With every entertainment presssitting on her doorstep, that couldn’t happen so she’d have to put off new customers for a while.

“This is crazy,” Eliza said as she flicked the shades from the living room closed. A few paparazzi had camped out on the street and managed to swing their lenses around every time either one of them popped open the blinds.

“I’ll make us some dinner. You don’t mind staying tonight, do you?” Eliza had lived in the spare room up until she moved in with her current boyfriend six months prior.

“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”

“Hell yeah, I don’t want to be alone with them outside. They’ll just follow you home anyway,” Sam told her.

“Fine, but I get to pick the movie. Tell me you have wine.”

“Don’t I always?” Samantha turned off the lights on her porch and fastened the deadbolt on the front door. The two of them dressed down into sweats and comfortable t-shirts and settled in front of the television with slices of cheap pizza and a nice bottle of Merlot.

“I have a feeling we won’t be doing this much more,” Eliza said between bites.

“Why’s that?” Sam was writing a few notes in her notebook, trying to work a press release.

“You’re a married woman.”

“So?” They both knew it was in name only.

Right now Blake was probably asleep in the bedroom on his private plane and not giving her a second thought.

“You’re married to a duke, Sam. Do you have any idea how huge that is?”

“It’s just a title. Like Sir or Doctor. Only Blake didn’t have to work to obtain it.”

“He inherited the title automatically when his father died, right?” Eliza had shifted her feet under her butt and placed a bowl of popcorn between them on the couch.

Samantha nodded.

“But he needed to get married to inherit the estate?”

“In most cases the title and the estate go together to the first male born to the duke and duchess. But Blake’s father was a class-A jerk. He stipulated in his will that his estate was to be divided up… dissolved to all intents and purposes if Blake didn’t settled down by his thirty-sixth birthday. One cousin would get a portion of the estate, a small allowance to Blake’s mother and sister, and the rest to charity.”

“That’s cold. The dad didn’t make it so his own wife could stay in the home she’d made hers for years?”“I guess not.”

Eliza sat forward. “What an ass.”

“Blake told me that a title without the estate is like a king without a country. The royalty thing boggles my mind.”

Samantha’s cell phone buzzed beside her. Blake’s name popped up on the screen. A wave of excitement rode up her back. “Hey,” she answered.

“I wanted to reach you before you went to bed.” He sounded tired and the background noise made it difficult to hear him.

“And I thought you’d be at twenty thousand feet. Where are you?”

“I was delayed in New York. I’ll be leaving here within the hour.” Their day had started out early and it seemed his wasn’t going to end any time soon.

Samantha actually felt sorry for him.

“Listen, the media is nuts here. I thought we should give a press release sooner than later, maybe get them off my back,”

Samantha suggested.

“Are you okay? They aren’t harassing you are they?” Worry etched his voice.

“No, I’m—”

“I wish you’d stay at my house.”

“We’ve gone over this. I’m fine here. People will buy a slow turnover in my life.” She heard a PA talking about flights. “How does this sound… Mr. and Mrs. Harrison would like you to respect their privacy while they adjust to their rapidly changing lives. Their courtship and subsequent wedding was as unexpected to these two as it will be to the world. A pending reception is being planned where details of their love match will be revealed.”

“Love match?” It was the only thing Blake questioned.

“That does sound hokey. I’ll think of something else.”

Blake laughed. “The only other thing you need to change is our names.”

“What?”

His voice was cutting out.

“Yeah, it needs to read, Lord and Lady Harrison, the Duke and Duchess of Albany. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll call in the morning. Call Carter or Neil if you need anything.”

Then the line went dead.

A shiver of dread fell on her like a curtain falling on a stage. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” Eliza stopped shoveling popcorn in her mouth and stared at Samantha with wide eyes.

“I’m in over my head.” Duchess! She truly was a duchess. The weight of the

title choked out all other thoughts.