A Royal Baby on the Way

‘‘I’m afraid not.’’ Her gaze moved to the two security men standing next to her. ‘‘He doesn’t seem to be understanding me. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I will have some trouble communicating.’’

That comment got through to Mitch. It also annoyed him. ‘‘I’m not stupid,’’ he said. ‘‘I heard what you said, I just don’t believe it.’’

The woman nodded slightly. ‘‘I suppose in your position I would feel the same way.’’ She motioned to the house. ‘‘Would it be possible to go inside and talk about this?’’

He looked at the two armed men. To think the most excitement he’d been expecting in his quiet Sunday afternoon had been to catch a couple of football games on television. ‘‘Sure. Will the rent-a-cops let you do that?’’

Neither security person responded to his mild insult. The taller of the two turned to the woman. ‘‘We’re going to have to search the house.’’

‘‘Do you mind?’’ Alex asked Mitch. ‘‘It’s really a formality. I’m sure you’re very safe.’’

‘‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’’ He had the strangest feeling that he’d been dropped into a movie somewhere in the middle. He had no clue what was going on and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

‘‘If you’ll give me a minute,’’ the taller man said, then walked up the three stairs and across the porch. He paused at the front door.

‘‘You’re kidding, right?’’ Mitch asked.

‘‘Not really.’’

The bodyguard slipped a thin wallet out of his jacket pocket…the one on the opposite side from the gun. He opened it and handed it to Mitch.

Mitch studied the official badges. The top one showed a royal coat of arms, while the bottom came from the U.S. State Department.

‘‘There’s a photo ID as well,’’ the man offered helpfully.

Mitch flipped to the picture and noted the card below, then handed the wallet back to Reginald Rowan, security expert and a man licensed to carry a handgun in at least two countries.

‘‘Door’s open,’’ Mitch said. ‘‘I don’t bother much with locks. There aren’t many strangers out here. At least not until today.’’

‘‘How nice,’’ Alex said as she glanced around. ‘‘It’s very private. You must like that.’’

‘‘I guess.’’

His gaze moved from her back to the remaining security agent, to the bulge of the man’s gun, to the sleek Jag parked in front of the house. If it was a joke, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make it look real. He shrugged. What did it matter? He would play along for a while, just to figure out what everyone wanted.

* * *

Twenty minutes later he and Alex, as she’d insisted he call her despite frowns of annoyance from the security men, sat across from each other at the old oak table in the kitchen. Mitch tried to concentrate on what his guest was saying, but all he could think was how ticked off Betty, his housekeeper, was going to be if Alex turned out to be the real thing and she’d missed her chance to meet royalty.

‘‘So the last time my parents were in America was twenty-nine years ago,’’ Alex said, continuing her story. ‘‘They brought their child, James, with them. He was barely a year old.’’

‘‘And that’s when he was kidnapped?’’ Mitch asked.

‘‘Right. They’d been staying at the family home in Aspen, Colorado. I don’t know all the details, of course. I wasn’t even born. From what I’ve learned, a massive search was instigated, but it was as if the baby had just disappeared. A ransom note had been received, confirming everyone’s belief that the kidnapping was for monetary gain and not political purposes.’’

‘‘But your family didn’t pay in time?’’

Alex leaned forward and rested her forearms on the scarred table. ‘‘That part is a little hazy. I think the ransom was collected, but before it could be delivered, the authorities found the kidnapper’s hideout. Through some freak accident, the small cabin burned to the ground during the rescue attempt. The kidnapper’s body was found and identified, and a few bits of my brother’s clothing were discovered. He was presumed dead. Only recently did I receive this letter.’’

She pulled a single sheet of paper from her handbag and passed it to him. Mitch read it once, quickly, then a second time. He was having trouble keeping track of everything going on. One minute he’d been admiring a pair of pretty legs and the next he was reading about a lost royal heir.

He glanced up from the sheet. ‘‘This could be a hoax.’’

‘‘I know, but we have to assume it’s not. What if my brother really is still alive?’’

‘‘So that’s why you want to talk to John.’’

She nodded. ‘‘We have no way of knowing if he’s James or not. According to Grandma Beulah, whom I spoke with yesterday, she thinks it’s one of the other two.’’ Alex pressed her full lips together. ‘‘I don’t know what to tell you about her information. She’s a lovely woman, but her memory has faded and I wasn’t completely convinced she even knew why I was visiting her. From what I can piece together, three boys around the same age came to The Sunshine Home within a short time of the kidnapping. That information, combined with the fact that a baby’s body was never recovered at the fire and Grandma Beulah’s possession of James’s baby blanket means there’s a possibility my brother is still alive.’’ Her blue eyes darkened. ‘‘I don’t suppose you remember anything that might be helpful.’’

‘‘I was four when my family adopted John. Sorry, but I don’t remember much except being annoyed at having to share my toys.’’

She sighed. ‘‘I understand. I’m not sure why I’m surprised that this is proving difficult. I suppose I had hoped my sisters and I would fly over here and just figure out what had happened. An unrealistic expectation on my part. The trail is years old, and the odds of James being alive have to be slim. But we’re determined to learn as much as we can.’’

‘‘Why did your parents send you instead of hiring a private investigator?’’

Alex flushed slightly. ‘‘The king and queen don’t know about the letter. There have been so many false leads over the years. None of us wanted to upset them again, especially with them preparing for the celebration.’’

Every time he thought he’d figured out what was going on, she threw him another curve. ‘‘What celebration?’’

‘‘My father will have been king for twenty years next year. The entire country will be honoring him. It’s a time of great joy, and my sisters and I didn’t want to distract my parents from that. If we do find James, then their happiness will be complete. If not, they won’t have to deal with any more disappointment.’’

She folded her hands primly together. Mitch noticed she hadn’t touched the mug of coffee he’d offered her. Wasn’t it up to royal standards? Uh-oh. If he was worrying about royal standards, that meant he believed her story. Which meant he believed that she was a princess. Maybe he’d been kicked in the head earlier that day and hadn’t noticed.

‘‘As far as our parents are concerned,’’ Alex continued, ‘‘we’re on a tour of your country, publicizing the upcoming celebration. We’re making several public appearances. The investigation is being kept quiet.’’

Mitch half glanced over his shoulder. Was there going to be more of an invasion? ‘‘Where are your sisters now?’’

‘‘In Aspen. I’m here to talk to John and to go through records at The Sunshine Home. Laura, our social secretary, is setting that up with the present administration.’’

If Alex wasn’t a real princess, she sure had her act together. She spoke formally enough to be royalty. Her accent intrigued him. As did her perfect posture and the faint tilt of her head. He thought about asking if she had any ID with her—maybe a business card with a little crown on it or something.

He held back a grin. This wasn’t really happening, he thought. Women like her didn’t stroll into the lives of men like him. He was a decent guy with a successful ranch. He’d been told he was good-looking, and for what it was worth he believed it. But a princess? No way.

‘‘When is he coming back?’’ Alex asked, interrupting his train of thought.

Mitch looked at her. ‘‘Who? John?’’

She nodded. ‘‘Will he be home this evening?’’

Mitch took a long swallow of coffee. ‘‘I don’t know when John will come home. He’s not gone for the day, he’s just gone. He does that kind of thing. He takes off without saying anything and comes back when he’s done with whatever he’d been doing.’’

Alex stiffened. ‘‘What are you saying? Where does he go?’’

‘‘Hell if I know. He doesn’t talk about it. It’s just his way. He’s been doing it since he was a teenager. For a while my folks tried to keep him on the ranch, but he refused. He was too big to send to his room, so they let him go.’’ What he wasn’t going to tell her was that for a long time he’d been happy to see his brother leave. In the past couple of years, though, he’d come to terms with many things and now he missed John when he was gone.

‘‘But what if you have to get in touch with him? He must phone.’’

‘‘Sometimes. Not always.’’ His gaze narrowed. ‘‘I don’t know what the rules are like where you come from, but here in this country, no one has to check in if he doesn’t want to.’’

Her full lips pursed in obvious annoyance. ‘‘I assure you that Wynborough is not a dictatorship. My point was simply that family members often prefer to stay in touch. What if there was an emergency with your parents?’’

‘‘I don’t have an answer to that. I guess John would just have to live with what happened.’’

Her shoulders slumped a little, the first slip of otherwise perfect posture. ‘‘But I have to talk with him.’’

‘‘You really think he might be your brother?’’ Mitch asked doubtfully. John, the lost royal prince? Mitch turned the idea over in his mind. No, it wasn’t possible, was it?

‘‘I don’t know what to think,’’ Alex admitted. ‘‘I just know that I must speak with him.’’

They both heard footsteps from the hallway. The security men walked into the kitchen. ‘‘Princess Alexandra, how long are you planning to stay this afternoon?’’ the taller of the two asked. ‘‘We have a long drive ahead of us.’’

Alex looked at Mitch. ‘‘Could it really be weeks until he comes back?’’

Mitch nodded.

She drew in a breath. ‘‘Mr. Colton has informed me that his brother is away for an unspecified period of time that could turn into several weeks. I intend to stay in the area until he returns.’’

‘‘That’s not possible,’’ the security agent told her. ‘‘We can’t spare the manpower to keep you safe here and to watch your sisters.’’

‘‘Then hire more people.’’

‘‘And alert your parents?’’

‘‘You’re right,’’ Alex said slowly. ‘‘They would question additional security personnel, and I don’t want them worrying.’’

‘‘Return to Aspen. You can ask Mr. Colton to phone you when his brother returns.’’

Alex rose to her feet. She was tall, five-nine or five-ten. There was something regal about her bearing, and when she turned her full attention on the security agent, Mitch almost felt sorry for the man.

‘‘I’m going to assume that was a suggestion and not an order, Rowan,’’ she said, her voice crackling with ice.

The man inclined his head briefly. ‘‘Yes, Your Highness. However, it is my responsibility to keep you and your sisters safe. That means keeping you together.’’

‘‘We have plans to go to different parts of the country as part of our tour. We’ll be attending various social functions.’’

‘‘Agreed, and we have security set up for all those venues. What we don’t have is enough manpower to set up a separate home base here in a hotel. You would be at risk, and I will not allow that, ma’am.’’

It was a battle of wills, Mitch thought as he leaned back, bracing his chair on two legs. Given the odds, he would put all his money on the princess. She didn’t look like the kind of woman who gave in easily.

‘‘I’m not leaving,’’ she said evenly. ‘‘I want to be close so that I can speak to John Colton as soon as he returns. I also need to spend some time going through records at The Sunshine Home. I can do neither of those things from Aspen.’’ She raised her hand to silence the other man before he could interrupt. ‘‘If you want me to live somewhere secure, I will. I know a place that is relatively isolated and has already passed a security check.’’ She turned to Mitch. ‘‘Would it be too much trouble if I stayed here with you until your brother returned?’’

Chapter Two

Mitch’s mouth dropped open at the same time his chair thumped down onto all four legs. Based on the stunned expression on his face, Alex realized she’d caught him off guard with her question. She didn’t want to turn around and look at either of her security people. Rowan, the one in charge of her personal safety, would get coldly quiet, and his assistant, Ted, would be gaping like a fish. She decided to plunge ahead before any of the men could start with the protests.

‘‘It would only be for a short time,’’ Alex said quickly, focusing all her attention on Mitch. ‘‘I would only need a place to sleep and somewhere to set up a small office. I know this would be a tremendous imposition, but I desperately need to speak with your brother. If he’s not the missing heir, then he might know something important about the others. I’ll be happy to pay whatever you’d like.’’

At her final statement, Mitch’s shocked expression shifted to narrow-eyed irritation. ‘‘This isn’t about money,’’ he said slowly.

Too late Alex realized she’d offended her potential host. ‘‘Yes, of course. I didn’t mean—’’

But she never got to say what she didn’t mean. Rowan was already talking.

‘‘This is completely out of the question, ma’am. I cannot spare the personnel necessary to keep you safe here on a ranch in the middle of Arizona. You must return to Aspen and stay with your sisters.’’

Rowan’s gaze also narrowed. What was it with men and their steely looks? She braced herself, knowing that the by-the-book bodyguard was about to play his trump card. ‘‘If I don’t receive your cooperation in this matter, I will be forced to go to the king.’’

Alex felt herself being maneuvered into a corner. If Rowan called her father, there was no way she could keep their mission in America a secret. She had to keep the security agent’s cooperation and stay on the ranch. Talking to John Colton was important.

‘‘I’m not sure I see the problem,’’ Alex said with a calm she didn’t feel. ‘‘The ranch is isolated, which works to our advantage. Who would look for me here?’’

Rowan stepped closer to her. He lowered his voice. ‘‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. This is a matter best left to professionals. While Mr. Colton passed the preliminary background check we did yesterday, there is no telling what a more detailed study might find. What do you know about him or the people who work here?’’

‘‘Wait one damn minute,’’ Mitch said, coming to his feet. ‘‘I’ll vouch for every cowboy on this ranch. Just because we don’t live in some fancy castle doesn’t mean we’re not decent, hardworking folks.’’

‘‘I’m sure that’s true,’’ Rowan said with obvious insincerity, ‘‘however it does nothing to ensure the princess’s personal safety.’’

Alex had to press her lips together to keep from smiling. If Rowan and Mitch were going to get into a male power contest, then she was bound to win. The harder Rowan pushed, the more Mitch would shove back. In a matter of minutes the cowboy would be insisting she stay for as long as she liked.

‘‘My family has been safe enough here for three generations,’’ Mitch growled.

‘‘Your family hardly compares to a royal princess.’’

‘‘So you’re saying we’re not good enough for the likes of her.’’

Rowan clearly saw his mistake a moment too late. ‘‘Not at all,’’ he amended. ‘‘It’s more a matter of not knowing enough about you.’’

Mitch took a step toward him. The cowboy was about three inches taller and twenty pounds heavier. From what Alex could tell, every one of those pounds was muscle. Mitch had shoulders broad enough to, well, be an old-time movie cowboy, she thought as she studied the way he went toe-to-toe with Rowan. His hair was a medium brown, a few shades lighter than Rowan’s. It was also a bit longer, just grazing the collar of his blue work shirt. The contrast between the two men’s dress—Rowan in his tailored suit and Mitch in jeans and boots—highlighted the differences in their personalities. Rowan was content to work for the royal family, keeping their princesses safe. Alex suspected Mitch had never worked for anyone but himself and that he preferred it that way.

‘‘Maybe you should take a few more minutes to find out about me,’’ Mitch said.

‘‘This situation is out of the question.’’

Mitch jerked a thumb at Alex. ‘‘Seems to me the lady is the one in charge. Now why don’t you go do what you have to so she can get her way in this?’’

Alex’s mouth twitched again, but she forced herself to maintain a pleasantly neutral, faintly regal expression. It was one she’d perfected in her teens, after hours of practicing in front of a mirror. When Rowan pulled a cellular phone from his pocket and ventured out of the kitchen, Mitch gave her a quick wink.

He was nice, she thought with some surprise. She’d been so caught up in the excitement of actually being on a working ranch, then disappointed that John Colton wasn’t available, that she hadn’t paid much attention to her host. He had an ease about him. Even though he was having a little trouble dealing with the fact that she was a princess, he didn’t let the information overwhelm him. She had a feeling he was one of those people who would quickly forget the fact and start treating her like a regular person. The thought was heady indeed. She was rarely allowed to be anything but the eldest daughter of a king.

‘‘Is this really that important?’’ Mitch asked. ‘‘I don’t usually get into power struggles with complete strangers, but I didn’t like his attitude.’’

Rowan and Ted had retired to one of the other rooms. She could hear both of their voices as they made the necessary calls to find out all they could about Mitch Colton and his ranch.

‘‘It’s important to my family,’’ she said. It was also important to her, but she wasn’t going to share her personal reasons for wanting to know the truth about her brother. She couldn’t say she missed James. She’d been born nearly a year after he’d been kidnapped so they’d never met. But until she knew for sure if there was a male heir to the Wynborough throne, she couldn’t plan her life.

‘‘Seems like a lot of fuss just to have a conversation,’’ Mitch told her. His gaze moved down her body, then retraced the journey back to her face. ‘‘You look like the kind of woman who makes trouble. That true?’’

This time Alex allowed herself to smile. ‘‘I don’t believe I’ve ever made trouble in the past.’’

‘‘Right.’’ The single word was issued in a tone of disbelief. ‘‘In my experience, someone as attractive as you can’t help but make trouble.’’

Alex felt a flush of pleasure stain her cheeks. He thought she was attractive? ‘‘Thank you.’’

‘‘You can take it as a compliment if you want, but I didn’t mean it in a good way. I don’t want trouble in my life. I like things just the way they are.’’

‘‘I’m not going to change things.’’

He shook his head. ‘‘You can’t help it, princess. You’ve got high maintenance written all over you.’’

Alex was reasonably confident she’d been insulted, but she wasn’t sure how. ‘‘High maintenance? What does that mean?’’

He walked to the large window over the sink and stared out at the well-tended yard beyond. It was late October and many of the flowers had lost their blossoms, but lush green stalks still grew up toward the sun.

‘‘It means you’ve got more luggage than what’s in your trunk and that I’m going to regret not letting your security guy win.’’

She stiffened. ‘‘While I do have more luggage that will be sent to me, I promise not to get in the way. I’ll need a bedroom and some place to set up an office. I have to stay in touch with both my sisters and the palace.’’ She thought about the logistics. ‘‘Maybe a couple of phone lines for calls and the fax machine. The computer can share that line and…’’ She glanced at him. ‘‘Is that what you meant by high maintenance? I assure you I will cover any expenses.’’

‘‘I don’t doubt that for a minute.’’ He jerked his head toward the closed kitchen door. ‘‘Your security people are going to give me and my employees the all clear, so let me give you the nickel tour and you can start planning your redecorating.’’

As he left the bright kitchen, Alex trailed after him. ‘‘Mr. Colton, I sense your resistance to this plan. While I need to be close to speak with your brother when he returns, I won’t stay here if you find the idea repugnant.’’

He’d walked into a large living room. Like the kitchen, the room was big with hardwood floors and oversize pieces of furniture. Brightly colored rugs picked up tones from the sofas and the paintings on the walls. A huge rock fireplace dominated the far wall. It was a room one could relax in, she thought as her gaze drifted from the dozens of family pictures over the mantel to the handmade afghan over the back of the sofa.

Mitch stopped in the middle of the room and spun on his heel to face her. ‘‘Let’s get a couple of things straight. First, call me Mitch. I’ll call you Alex, even if it’s gonna give your security people a seizure.’’

‘‘Rowan’s more of a silent suffering kind of individual.’’

Mitch’s stern expression relaxed a little. He had warm brown eyes, she thought. And a very nice mouth—well shaped and firm looking, without being hard. She’d never really taken the time to notice a man’s mouth before. How strange that she should do so now.

‘‘Second,’’ Mitch went on, ‘‘try to avoid using really big words. It’s not that I don’t have a college degree, but folks around here prefer life simple and their friends straightforward. You’re a little fancy for the ranch, so you’re going to have a work at fitting in.’’

Alex didn’t know how to respond to that. ‘‘I’ll do my best,’’ she managed.

‘‘That’s all anyone can ask.’’

He led the way through the living room and down a long hallway. ‘‘The house has five bedrooms. I’m going to give you the two at the back of the house because they have the most privacy. There’s a Jack-and-Jill bathroom between them. This was always sort of the guest suite, so it should suit your needs.’’

She had a brief impression of open doors and large bedrooms, then Mitch came to a stop at the end of the hallway. He moved aside to let her enter first.

Alex stepped into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed and a long triple dresser. To the left, a big bay window let in light and had a window seat. The quilt and matching rugs looked handmade and very old. She walked to the bed and touched the pale-pink-and-green quilted squares. The tiny stitches told their own story and she wondered about the women who had spent hours making this gift of the heart.

‘‘It’s lovely,’’ she said, meaning both the room and the handmade spread.

‘‘It’s no palace, but it’s clean and quiet. That armoire has a television in it. We have a satellite dish so you can keep up with what’s going on back home.’’

Alex checked out the walk-in closet. Her clothes would fit nicely. ‘‘I won’t have any trouble with that. I’ll be sent daily bulletins. Some things will come by fax or e-mail, but the sensitive documents will be hand delivered by a messenger.’’

‘‘What’s so important that it can’t wait until you get home?’’

She looked at him and smiled. ‘‘I’m not just a princess. I have official state duties that continue to be my responsibility even when I’m out of the country.’’

She crossed to the door leading to the bathroom and stared at the vanity and double sink. Another door led to the toilet and tub. Beyond that was a matching vanity and the study beyond. ‘‘So that’s what you meant when you said ‘Jack-and-Jill’ bathroom. I’d never heard the expression before.’’ Mitch had followed her on her inspection tour. She gave a light laugh. ‘‘I was half expecting something labeled His and Hers.’’