Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince

“Did your uncle say the box belonged to your mother?” Duncan asked.

“No, but I assumed so.” Izzy hoped her words wouldn’t give more credence to the prince’s claims. “Uncle Frank just said it was important.”

Niko held the key he’d worn around his neck. “Let us see how important.”

His hand was as steady as a neurosurgeon’s. If it had been her, she would be trembling. Who was she kidding? She was trembling.

He inserted the key in the hole.

Izzy was tempted to close her eyes. She held her breath instead. She wanted to know what was inside the bottom portion of the box, but she didn’t want anything the prince had told her to be true.

He turned the key.

Click.

“The key fits,” Niko announced.

The air whooshed from Izzy’s lungs.

No, this can’t be happening. It can’t be true.

The bottom portion of the box slid out. A hidden drawer.

“Would ya look at that,” Rowdy said with a hint of awe to his deep voice.

Even though she had been waiting for this moment for a few years now, she was afraid to look. All her curiosity had vanished, replaced by trepidation. She didn’t care what was in the box. She only wanted things to go back to the way they’d been before Prince Niko arrived.

“It’s the same tiara,” Jovan said from across the office.

No. Isabel didn’t want to see so she squeezed her eyes shut. Her chest constricted. She shuddered.

Someone touched her shoulder and squeezed gently. Rowdy. Both he and Boyd could be big old teddy bears. She opened her eyes, but saw Niko with his hand on her instead of her boss.

“Isabel.” Concern filled Niko’s voice. “Would you rather wait?”

The tenderness of his gaze brought tears to her eyes. The situation, she rationalized, not him. Still she appreciated his gesture of comfort, drew strength from it, too. “No.”

Straightening, Izzy looked into the drawer past the small diamond tiara to find papers, photographs and jewelry. Her uncle Frank could have found the box or bought it at a garage sale or even stolen it in desperation. Maybe that was why she had no key.

No, she was just being silly now. None of those things would explain the prince knowing her mother’s name or his key fitting the lock. Isabel needed to accept what was in front of her, except.

Niko reached into the drawer.

“Wait, sir,” Duncan shouted.

The prince drew back his hand.

“May I please take a picture of the contents before they are disturbed?” Duncan asked with a camera in hand. “I would like to document everything. For both Izzy’s and your sake.”

“Certainly,” Niko said.

The flash of the camera reminded Izzy of lightning and intensified the emotions warring inside her. She hated storms. Uncle Frank had died during a lightning storm. She swallowed back a tide of grief.

Duncan backed away. “Thank you, sir. Please proceed.”

Niko didn’t. Instead he looked at her. “At one time your parents had a key to the bride box. They placed these contents inside. Only you should remove them.”

Anger flared. She loved Uncle Frank, but he had kept her past a secret. Why? Why hadn’t he trusted her? She wanted to know why this had happened.

“Isabel—”

“I’ll do it.” She couldn’t decide what to do about this until she knew more. “But only because I need to have all the facts.”

Izzy felt four pairs of eyes staring at her. She was used to the attention. Not many people expected a female mechanic to fix their cars. This was different. Unsettling. But Uncle Frank had taught her to always hold her head high, no matter how uncertain she might feel inside. If only he were here now.

She scooted her chair closer to the desk. With a shaky hand, she raised the tiara from the box. “It’s so tiny.”

Niko nodded. “My parents had the tiara commissioned for you to wear at the wedding. The small diamonds represent all the towns and villages. The three larger diamonds symbolize you, me and Vernonia.”

“It’s hard to tell if it’s exactly the same one in the photo,” she said, knowing she was grasping at straws.

“It’s the same one,” Niko countered.

Izzy set the tiara on the desk. Next she removed foreign coins and dollar bills, a diamond pendant, an emerald bracelet and three stunning rings.

Those jewels would be worth a fortune if real. Maybe that was why Niko wanted the box back so badly. Money could make people do almost anything.

She picked up a photograph, a picture of a man and a woman.

“Those were your parents,” Niko said softly.

Her parents. Izzy wasn’t ready to believe it just yet. She stared at the handsome couple. They were smiling and holding hands. They looked happier than they did in the wedding photograph. “The woman is beautiful.”

“You look like her,” Rowdy said.

“I wish.” Izzy’s heart ached for some memory of the two people the prince claimed were her parents.

“You resemble your mother,” Niko said. “But you have your father’s eyes.”

Izzy felt a rush of excitement. No one had ever seen a resemblance between her and Uncle Frank. She removed more photographs. Baby pictures, family portraits, casual snapshots, of people she didn’t know taken in places she didn’t recognize.

Next came an official looking piece of paper with foreign writing. “I don’t know what it says.”

“Allow me,” Niko offered.

She handed it to him.

He glanced over the document. “It’s your birth certificate. Evangaline Poussard Zvonimir is listed as your mother. Aleksander Nicholas Zvonimir is listed as your father. Your place of birth is Sachestia, Vernonia. That is in the northern part of the country.”

Jovan placed the documents they’d shown her earlier on the desk. “In case you are concerned about the translation and wish to compare, ma’am.”

“My name is Izzy,” she corrected. “I would like to see a translation by an impartial person to confirm the document.”

“How can you still not believe?” Niko asked.

“I’m simply being cautious,” she admitted. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to find me. You could’ve just offered to buy the box and be done with it. And me.”

“You are my wife,” Niko said. “I cannot pretend you do not exist and be done with it or you.”

Izzy grimaced. “Too bad there isn’t some birthmark that would prove without a doubt that I’m royalty.”

“Perhaps there is one.” Wicked laughter lit Niko’s eyes. “I would be happy to search for one.”

Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

His faced reddened, too.

She hadn’t been expecting that reaction from Niko, but his embarrassment made him seem less a dark, formal prince and more … human. That made Izzy feel a little more comfortable with him even if her heart pounded like a piston engine each time she noticed him staring at her.

She removed several pieces of paper stapled together. Again, the words were written in a language she couldn’t read. She handed the pages to Niko.

He flipped through them. “This is your father’s will naming you the sole beneficiary of his estate.”

“I will need a copy of the will, sir,” Duncan said.

“Of course.” Niko handed it to the lawyer then turned his attention on Izzy. “Everyone believed you died with your parents so your father’s estate went to—”

“You,” she said without an ounce of doubt.

“As your husband, your inheritance passed directly to me.”

“What kind of estate are we talking about, Your Highness?” Duncan asked.

Niko glanced at Jovan. “What is the approximate net worth?”

“Approximately twenty-five million euros,” Jovan said.

She didn’t know much about foreign currency, but she knew a lot of money was at stake here. “You’re willing to give that to me for some box?”

“The box and an annulment,” Niko clarified.

Rowdy whistled. “It’s like winning the lottery, Izzy.”

Yes, it was. She took a deep breath. That meant it was probably too good to be true.

“Let’s not get too excited,” Duncan cautioned. “We have no idea how the legal system works in Vernonia. Each country has its own laws for estates and inheritance. Something like this could be tied up in the court system for years.”

“I would never keep anything that rightly belongs to Isabel,” Niko stated firmly. “Vernonia might be a small country, but we have a parliamentarian government and a modern justice system. It will not take the High Court years to sort this matter out.”

“Can’t something like this be taken care of in the U.S?” Izzy asked.

“Your father’s property is in Vernonia,” Niko explained. “Besides, the High Court is private. There could be publicity if we used the court here in the United States.”

She glanced at the lawyer. “Duncan?”

“I don’t know anything about Vernonia’s court system, but Prince Niko is correct about the publicity. America loves royalty. The press would have a field day if they found out you were an American princess.”

Izzy frowned. “I’m not—”

“Come to Vernonia with me,” Niko suggested. “We will appear in front of the High Court and have this matter resolved quickly.”

Apprehension washed over her. She never went anywhere. “I don’t have a passport.”

“I can pull some strings,” Niko said.

“Most definitely,” Jovan agreed.

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe I should take some time to think about it.”

Silence filled the room. Outside in the garage bay an air compressor sounded. A horn honked. A car door slammed.

“There’s a lot at stake, Izzy,” Rowdy said. “Don’t let that stubborn streak of yours get in the way.”

Stubborn streak? She wasn’t stubborn.

“Listen to Rowdy,” Duncan advised. “Prince Niko believes you are Princess Isabel. He’s willing to give you a multimillion dollar estate. What more do you need to think about?”

Her gaze bounced between Rowdy and Duncan. They made good points. Still she hesitated. Cautious. Nervous. Unsure.

“Something else is in the drawer, ma’am,” Jovan said.

She glanced down and saw a note-size envelope tucked away in one corner. The word Isabel was written on the front. The cursive writing looked feminine.

As she picked up the small envelope, her hand trembled. The flap had been tucked inside, not sealed. Carefully Izzy removed sheets of paper and unfolded the pages. She was happy to see words written in English.

“Our Beloved Daughter.” Tears pricked Izzy’s eyes as she read the words. No one had ever called her daughter. Not even Uncle Frank who she loved like a father. She continued reading.

You are only a baby yet you are already a bride. Forgive us for sending you to America, but your father saw no other way to keep you safe. The marriage between you and Prince Nikola was supposed to protect you and keep peace among Vernonians. But that plan appears to have backfired and now you are in even worse danger. My greatest wish is that you never read this letter. I plan to destroy it when we arrive in the U.S. If you are reading this note now, then things did not go as your father and I planned. And for that, little princess, I am more sorry than you will ever know.

Your father is torn between the two sides wanting control of Vernonia. The Separatists first wanted to split into their own country, Sachestia, with your grandfather as king. Now they want to wrest full control from King Dmitar and take over the entire country, but your father would rather remain loyal to the throne and Vernonia. Your marriage, however, has unexpectedly antagonized both factions and made it impossible for him to support either side now. We must leave Vernonia as soon as possible. Your safety is our utmost concern. Once this craziness ends, we will happily return.

We do not dare leave the country together so we are sending you first. We are entrusting you to the care and protection of Franko Miroslav. He is your father’s chauffeur, and our dearest and closest friend. He will do whatever is necessary to keep you from harm. We have arranged passage and paperwork so the two of you can escape to the U.S. We will follow the next day.

No one knows of our plan, including the king. He’s a good man, but the fewer people who know your whereabouts the better. Your departure and location will remain a secret until it is safe.

Your father is telling me it’s time for you to go. I must sign off now, Isabel.

We love you, our darling Izzy, and hope to be with you soon.

Love,

Mommy and Daddy

Izzy took several deep breaths as the words sunk in. She’d never felt anything toward the woman in the photo Uncle Frank had shown her, a woman who wasn’t really her mother. But this letter written in her mother’s own hand provided Izzy with a connection to the woman who gave birth to her. Something she’d longed for since she was little. Something she’d hoped to find by looking for the key.

“True.” She sat back in the chair. The girl more comfortable in Shop class than Home Ec was a real-life princess with both a mother and a father. Everything the prince had said … “It’s all true.”

“I’m sorry,” Niko said.

Izzy believed him. No one wanted to discover they were married to a stranger.

Married.

Her stomach roiled.

Marriage was only part of this. Everything she thought she knew about herself was wrong. Izzy wrapped her arms around her stomach. She wasn’t who she thought she was. She had money. A title. A father.

Izzy recalled her parents’ smiling faces from the wedding photograph. A mother and a father who had loved her. A mother and a father who had been killed before she could get to know them.

Emotion clogged Izzy’s throat.

But it wasn’t too late to fulfill one of their wishes. Her parents had planned on returning to Vernonia. That must have meant Uncle Frank planned on going back, too.

Come to Vernonia with me. We will appear in front of the High Court and have this matter resolved quickly.

Maybe seeing the place where she came from would help her figure out who she was and what her future held. She could get the marriage annulled and receive her inheritance. Forget going to pit crew school. She could buy her own racing team.

Izzy rose. “When do you want to leave for Vernonia?”

CHAPTER THREE

When do you want to leave for Vernonia?

Sooner rather than later. Niko sat at the table in the recreational vehicle, also known as an RV, where Isabel lived. His concern over the press discovering the reason behind his unannounced trip to the U.S. continued to grow. But Isabel still had to shower, dress and pack. That would take time. They would be leaving later whether he liked it or not.

Isabel stood in front of the small refrigerator still wearing her bulky, stained coveralls. She rubbed her hands together as if nervous. “Would you like something to drink or eat?”

He appreciated her hospitality. Twenty-three years away from Vernonia hadn’t erased centuries of innate good breeding. “No, thank you.”

With a hesitant expression, she glanced toward the back of the RV. “It won’t take me more than a few minutes to get ready.”

A lump on the faded brown-and-orange plaid cushion behind his back made him shift positions. “The plane will not take off without us.”

As she closed a partition that separated the back portion of the motor home from the front section, Niko surveyed the interior with dismay. Warped wood veneer. Cracked cabinet and cupboard doors. Frayed carpeting. Cramped space. The RV had to be as old as Isabel.

What had Franko been thinking? Yes, the chauffeur needed to keep her safe, but why had he never contacted the king for assistance? Why had Franko allowed it to come to this?

Niko exhaled on a sigh.

Isabel was no damsel in distress. She’d impressed him with the way she’d dealt with her world being turned inside out. She hadn’t been blinded by his title or money. She wouldn’t accept his word as the truth without concrete evidence. Surprising, given she lived in near poverty in a shabby motor home with no family or resources. A princess of Vernonia deserved better than a life spent working long hours bent over a car engine and coming home to half a dozen barking, trembling Chihuahuas who lived next door.

She wouldn’t be his wife for much longer, but he wanted Isabel to have the kind of life her parents intended for her to have. She belonged in a castle.

The partition jiggled like it was stuck.

“Isabel?” Niko asked, wondering if she needed assistance.

“I’m almost finished,” she said from behind the thin wall.

He checked his watch. Five minutes. That had to be a world record. Then again, Isabel didn’t seem to be a woman who primped or even cared about her appearance.

The partition jerked open.

As she walked out of the back toward him, he did a doubletake. Her faded blue jeans fit like a second skin, clinging in all the right places, accentuating her feminine curves and long legs. The fabric of her T-shirt stretched across her chest. Her high, round breasts jiggled. Her shiny brown hair swung back and forth below her shoulders.

He met her gaze, captivated by her warm, brown eyes. An appealing mix of intelligence and caring shone in their depths.

This was his … wife?

“I’m ready to go,” Isabel announced.

So was he. Niko was ready to follow wherever she wanted to go.

“I don’t own a lot of clothes.” Isabel motioned to the worn purple duffel bag she carried behind her. The bride box with all its original contents was in the limousine with Jovan. “What I have probably isn’t nice enough to wear to court.”

“I will make arrangements for you to go shopping once we arrive.” He would head off any of her financial concerns. “Do not worry about the cost.”

“You’re already paying for a lot.”

“I don’t mind.” Niko would enjoy seeing her in designer gowns with jewels adorning her graceful neck. He would enjoy removing those things from her, too. Too bad that would never happen. “You are my wife.”

“Only until the annulment,” she reminded.

“Yes, but until then it is my responsibility to take care of you.”

Isabel pushed her chin forward almost defiantly. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that.” He still wouldn’t mind a turn. Most women wanted him to take care of them. It felt odd that Isabel didn’t. He bowed his head in apology. “A poor choice of words on my part. I promise to make it up to you.”

“No need.”

As she brushed past him, an appealing mix of vanilla and jasmine filled his nostrils. The smell was a significant improvement over the motor oil one earlier. “I want to.”

“That’s okay.” Her smile nearly knocked him off his seat. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

Niko didn’t want her forgiveness. He wanted … her.

Damn. The attraction to Isabel was unexpected and unwelcome. His duties and responsibilities always took priority. Niko was practically engaged to Julianna. He shouldn’t be attracted to any woman.

Not even your wife? a voice mocked.

He balled his hands to gain control. His father had taught him to keep emotion reined in. Otherwise it became a weakness, one that others, particularly adversaries, would use to their advantage.

Niko focused his gaze on Isabel’s pretty face. Maybe it would be better to concentrate on her forehead. “Is there anything else you need to pack for the trip?”

“No. I won’t be in Vernonia that long.”

“You might like it there.”

She shrugged. “This has been my home since I was six.”

He couldn’t believe she’d lived like this for the past seventeen years. “That’s a long time.”

“When Uncle Frank bought the RV, he said we would never have to leave home again. We could always take it with us.” She removed a carton of milk from the refrigerator and poured it down the sink. “I wonder if he was thinking about Vernonia when he said that.”

“Possibly.” Niko glanced around her hovel. “There are many other places to live than here.”

“I know.” Isabel rinsed the carton in the small sink. “This motor home is nothing more than an old metal shed compared to a lot of other places, but I’ve been happy here. A little lonely since Uncle Frank died, but it’s hard to leave the good memories behind.”

“You will make new memories.”

“I need to come to peace with the old ones first.” She stared off into the distance. “So many things about Uncle Frank are making more sense now. The lack of photographs. Wanting me to study martial arts. Keeping such a low profile. Being so protective. Even if he wasn’t related to me by blood he’s still family. The only I ever knew.”

Niko nodded. “We shall honor Franko for the sacrifices he made by keeping you safe.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude shone her eyes. “Vernonia must have meant a lot to him or he would have never given up so much for me. I always thought he was satisfied living like this, and I’d be the one to leave someday. Now I know he didn’t plan on living here forever, either. He would have returned … home.”

Isabel’s words eased some of Niko’s concerns about her future. “Your father’s estate will enable you to live wherever and however you want.”

She sighed. “The thought of so many choices is intimidating.”

“Think of only one choice at a time. It won’t seem so … overwhelming.”

“Good advice,” she said. “Thanks.”

Helping her pleased him. “Is there anything else you need?”

Isabel glanced around. “Boyd is going to check on the RV while I’m away so everything should be okay.”

Niko remembered the tall man who had driven her and Jovan to retrieve the box. The same man had come out to check on her and watched her from the garage. A woman as attractive as Isabel was sure to have men after her. One who worked with her would have an advantage. “Is Boyd your boyfriend?”

“Boyd?” She scrunched her nose. “He’s like a brother. Some people think we’re a couple, but we’re just friends.”

The news brought an unfamiliar sense of relief. But Boyd wasn’t the only man in Charlotte. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend.”

“But you date.”

“Not nearly as much as I probably should. I work too much overtime to have a serious relationship. And the boys at the garage can be a little overprotective when guys do drop by.”

The news pleased Niko more than it should have.

“What about you?” she asked.

“No boyfriend.”

She grinned. “Any girlfriends?”

He used to have girlfriends. He’d dated models to princesses. Julianna wasn’t his girlfriend per se, yet she was the woman he planned to marry. Better to keep things simple than give Isabel too complicated an explanation. “Yes, I have a girlfriend.”

“What’s her name?”

“Julianna. We are planning to marry.”

“Congratulations, Niko.” Isabel locked a window latch. “I hope the two of you are very happy together.”

Her enthusiasm surprised him. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” she admitted. “Why wouldn’t I? I may be your wife, but that was a choice neither of us made or would choose today.”

Niko winced. Her words stung. He might not choose her, but he didn’t see why she wouldn’t choose him. He was a prince and quite eligible according to the tabloids and magazines. “Who would you choose to marry?”

“No one.”

“You do not wish to marry?”

“I have a few things I want to do first.”

“Tell me about these things.”

“I’m planning to enroll in pit crew school, work on a pit crew and eventually be a crew chief.”

Those were unusual goals for a woman. Unthinkable for a female in Vernonia let alone a princess. “You like racing.”

“I love racing. Open-wheel, stock car, go-kart, it doesn’t matter as long as there’s a checkered flag at the end.”

The passion in her voice matched the light in her eyes and reminded him of Julianna when she sailed. Perhaps the two women had more in common than Niko had thought. “Your inheritance will allow you to do almost anything you want in racing.”