The Carramer Trust

She had known she disappointed them bitterly by walking away from a future as a supermodel. Her mother had been horrified when she chose a career in law enforcement, mainly because of the risk to her perfect features, she assumed. They were happier now she was with the R.P.D., little knowing that the royal security could be as hazardous as any other security work. The modern world was a dangerous place. One day she might have to put her life on the line to protect her royal employers.

She had never expected to have to risk her heart.

The gymnasium overlooked Solano Harbor. She took her own car, and wore a plain teal sweatsuit. Normally she worked out in the luxurious palace gym and wore sweats monogrammed with the royal crest, hardly an option to meet Garth. She had no idea how she was going to convince him to see Lorne and had a feeling that the lower the profile she adopted the better.

He used the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she had learned when she called from the palace. She waited outside the gymnasium in her car until she saw him pull up in a battered pickup, the back cluttered with diving paraphernalia. In contrast to the state of the car, the gear looked pristine.

Garth didn’t look so bad himself, she thought, watching him lock the car and securely cover the diving gear. A familiar longing washed over her but she fought it. This time she was no teenager, wishing for the moon. She ducked low but he didn’t look around, merely hitched a navy-issue duffel bag over his shoulder and headed for the entrance.

Still as dark and brooding as she remembered, she thought, keeping down as he stalked past. Same sinfully broad shoulders, same narrow hips and grabbable rear, sculpted by the tight jeans he wore slung low like a cowboy’s. All he needed was a Stetson to complete the image.

He’d let his hair grow long, she noticed. Dark with lighter streaks from the sun and sea, it touched the collar of his rumpled blue golf shirt. One errant lock still fell across his eyes. She watched him push it back with an impatient gesture that was all too familiar.

Serena knew her scrutiny was hardly professional, but couldn’t help noticing how tanned he was from years of outdoor exposure, and the way faint lines radiated from his eyes. His wide mouth was so grimly set that she doubted he smiled any more now than he had when he was younger. Although it was late morning, his chin was dusted with stubble. His rugged appearance should have repelled her but instead she felt a dangerous prickle of excitement.

At the entrance he looked around as if sensing her eyes on him. She felt his jet gaze skim over her, so penetrating that she expected him to wrench her car door open and demand to know why she was watching him. Then he shrugged as if shaking off a phantom touch, pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

Sitting up, she swallowed hard, swimming in more phantoms. Memories of how she had imagined herself as his girl, cheering his sporting prowess from the sidelines, threatened to swamp her. Few others had cheered for him even when he won, she remembered. He had been too self-sufficient, making it clear he didn’t need anyone’s adulation. She had been the only girl stupid enough to think she was different.

Not anymore. She was here for a purpose, not to revisit yearnings she had grown out of thirteen years ago. She had, hadn’t she? The dryness in her throat argued differently. Not sure how honestly, she told herself she wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. Only Prince Lorne’s assurance that the country’s stability depended on resolving Garth’s claim to the throne—if he had one—got her out of the car and sauntering across the car park after him as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

In truth, she had a handful. This morning at the palace Jarvis Reid had swooped down on her, demanding her files on the presidential visit. He had looked like a cat with his first canary, as well he might. All her hard work preparing for the visit would now give Reid’s ambition a boost at the cost of her own. The thought of reporting to him as head of the Solano division made her feel ill. She had counted on it being the other way around.

Garth Remy had better be the lost prince, she thought angrily. If this was a clever hoax and he was somehow involved, she’d be kicking his fine-looking rear instead of grabbing it.

At the same time, she had difficulty imagining him being involved in a hoax. He may have been aloof, but he hadn’t lied to her. He could easily have taken advantage of her infatuation, but beyond the first kiss, he hadn’t. He had told her openly that he knew about the bet and had walked away. A man who lived by his own code of honor, however brutal it had seemed to her younger self.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door of the gymnasium and stepped inside. Garth was nowhere in sight, probably changing in the men’s locker room. She signed in and headed for the women’s locker room where she peeled off her sweatsuit to reveal a burgundy sports top and black leggings. With her long blond hair caught in a high ponytail, she still looked about eighteen, she thought, grimacing at herself in the full-length mirror. She supposed she should be happy, given the rapid approach of her next milestone birthday. But the image held too many reminders of the girl who had mooned around, waiting for Garth to notice her.

She wasn’t about to do any such thing today, she reminded herself. She was a grown woman at the top of her profession. Well nearly at the top. She’d had affairs of varying degrees of satisfaction. Nobody current, through her decision to focus on achieving promotion. The ingenuous girl whose feelings Garth had trampled no longer existed.

So close to lunchtime, the main floor was almost deserted except for an attendant straightening up equipment on the far side of the room. In the background the steady bass beat of rock music signaled a class in progress elsewhere in the building.

Playing the part of a gym regular, she climbed aboard a stationary bike to warm up. Pedaling steadily, she glanced around, finding Garth doing the same at the other end of the row. He didn’t see her. He wore a tank top and light-blue gym shorts with a navy stripe down each side and a pair of well-worn cross trainers.

After warming up for ten minutes he got off and went to a bench press where he picked out a pair of dumbbells, then lay on his back on the bench, planting his feet on the floor.

She stopped pedaling to watch as he exhaled and slowly pressed both weights toward the ceiling. With perfect control he inhaled and lowered the weights to the starting position, his muscles gleaming in the artificial light. She counted about four beats on the exhalation and eight on the inhalation phases. Impressive.

In danger of becoming mesmerized by the sight of his self-assured movements, she slid off the bike and chose an opal-colored balance ball suited to her height, nudging the sphere closer to Garth’s station. Wedging the ball between her lower back and the wall, she inhaled and lowered herself to a sitting position, bending her hips and knees. The pressure on the ball against her back felt as good as a massage.

Exhaling, she stood, keeping the pressure on the ball with her back. Several repetitions later, she felt muscle fatigue creeping up, but Garth was too intent on his own workout to notice her. Déjà vu, she thought, determined not to let it bother her this time. No wonder he was still unattached.

Deliberately she let the ball escape from under her so it bounced against his bench press. “I’m sorry,” she said as she went to retrieve it. Garth had the weights lowered to his shoulders. She injected surprise into her voice. “Garth? Garth Remy?”

Noticing her at last, he swung himself upright. “Serena Cordeaux? It is you, isn’t it?”

He didn’t exactly sound thrilled to see her, she thought. She forced a grin. “How long has it been?”

He placed the weights on the floor and swabbed his face with a towel, although he had barely raised a sweat. “Years. I heard you left Solano after graduation.”

Unwillingly pleased that he’d tracked her progress for a time at least, she nodded. “I went to the police academy.”

If she had hoped to impress him, he didn’t show it. Merely nodded. “Quite a switch for you, wasn’t it?”

“Modeling was my parents’ choice for me, not mine. I gave it up as soon as I was of age.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I hope I didn’t have anything to do with that?”

Annoyed because he had, she shook her head, feeling the old attraction resurface. Along with something far less welcome. Desire. Hot, potent, stinging because she didn’t want to feel it. She had been talking to him for less than five minutes out of thirteen years, and already she wanted to be in his arms so much she could taste the need. Some people never learned.

“You have a high opinion of yourself,” she said, then felt even more annoyed because she had said the same thing to him after they kissed.

He remembered too, she saw in the sudden gleam of interest flaring in his gaze. The flame died as she watched. “Always did,” he said easily, but the trace of pain in his voice wasn’t lost on her.

She touched his arm. “I’m sorry about your parents’ accident.”

He half closed his eyes, then opened them, his expression impassive. Too impassive, she thought, as if he was suffering but didn’t want anyone to know it. Same old Garth Remy, she thought. Never let anyone get too close.

“I meant to get in touch and thank you for the wreath,” he said.

She’d ordered it after seeing the news on television, telling herself it was the decent thing to do, not because she expected a response from him. “That’s okay. It can’t have been an easy time for you.” She hadn’t meant her tone to soften in concern for him, but it happened anyway.

“I’m fine.”

He moved to a mat on the far side of the bench press, snaring a length of resistance tubing as he went. Dropping to the floor, he stretched his legs out in front of him and anchored the tubing around his feet, then exhaled as he pulled the tubing in to his abdomen. The rowing movement was harder than it looked, she knew, and would help to account for his washboard-flat stomach.

Picking up another length of tubing, she joined him on a neighboring mat. She preferred the cable-row machines but they were on the other side of the room, hardly conducive to continuing a conversation. Not that he seemed to welcome her company. His body language told her he considered the reunion over.

She didn’t.

She looped the tubing around her feet. “What have you been doing with yourself?”

His slow exhalation as he pulled the cable taut was the only sound between them. She had decided he wasn’t going to answer when he said, “I worked my way through college. You might recall I had some catching up to do.”

The defensive tone reminded her that he had been the oldest boy in their high school. His parents had pulled him out of class to help in the family business so often that he had fallen behind academically, although his IQ was the equal of hers. Being older than their classmates, he’d endured considerable teasing, not all of it good-natured. “Good for you,” she said sincerely. “What did you do then?”

“Joined the navy.”

Her arm muscles protested as she paused with the cable at full stretch. “I joined the police, you joined the navy. Interesting.”

“Not particularly. It was the only way I could make a career out of diving.”

“You didn’t want to work with your folks on their boat?”

Seeing his mouth tighten, she cursed herself for mentioning the boat. Its shabby condition had always been a sore point with him. Now it also reminded him of his loss. “Not enough money in it for three people,” he said. From what she remembered, the boat had barely supported the family all along.

Too many questions would make him suspicious. She decided to try another angle. “A few years ago, I moved from the police to the R.P.D., the Royal Protection Detail,” she explained.

“I know what the R.P.D. is. I’ve seen you on TV, shadowing Prince Lorne. Being beautiful must be an asset in royal protection.”

Torn because he thought her beautiful, but obviously still believed she traded on her looks, she let her anger surface. “I was hired for my skills, not my appearance.”

“Such as a black belt in shopping?”

Goaded beyond her limits, she vaulted to her feet and lassoed his broad shoulders with her resistance band, hog-tying him before he had time to react. Leaning back to tighten the band, she let it bite into his flesh just enough to get his attention.

He didn’t move but his gaze held a new glimmer of respect. “Old habit. And you are beautiful.”

“And you’re the same old pain in the—”

Before she could finish, he flexed his muscles, loosening the band enough to throw it off. Yanking on it, he toppled her against him, making her think she was going to find herself in his arms for the second time in her life. The prospect caused her heart rate to rocket, hammering at her shield of professionalism.

For a heartbeat she was back in school, her teenage body pressed against him as her mouth shaped hungrily to his. The memory of his indifference rolled over her anew, giving her the strength to straighten away from him. She could swear he knew what she’d been thinking and had provoked her to see how she’d react.

When she moved back he tossed the apparatus to her, almost but not quite dissipating the unwanted feelings. “You made your point. Both points,” he said, sounding world-weary. Surely he hadn’t wanted her in his arms?

It wasn’t exactly an apology but it would have to serve. Unnerved by the easy way he’d demonstrated his greater physical strength, she dropped to the mat and continued her workout. After a few repetitions she reminded herself she had a job to do. Her own feelings couldn’t be allowed to get in the way.

“Are you on leave from the navy?” she asked.

His powerful movements made the resistance band stretch and contract like breathing. “I left the service after a disagreement with the brass.”

She wanted to say, “I know, and I don’t believe you were at fault,” but couldn’t without betraying how much she knew about him. Instead, she said, “You never did like authority much.”

“I don’t have a problem with authority provided it isn’t wielded by fools,” he growled.

“Such as the man who got you fired from the navy?”

The cord snapped to his feet as he swung his gaze on her. “I didn’t say I was fired. I said we parted company.”

“My mistake,” she said mildly, although her heart was pounding.

He retrieved the cable and resumed his methodical rowing movements. “As it happens, you’re right. Not that it matters who’s at fault when a trainee under my care comes close to getting killed.”

It mattered to him, she saw, impressed that his concern was all for the injured diver. There wasn’t a trace of self-pity or justification in his tone. “You don’t believe you were at fault, do you?”

The mask lifted for a moment. “I know I wasn’t.” Then the shutters came back down. “For all the good it will do me.”

“Couldn’t you get a lawyer to defend you?”

He unhooked the cable from his feet and looped it around his hand. “What’s the point? Admirals are always right. Besides, I’m happy as I am now.”

She was genuinely curious now. “Doing what?”

“Salvage diving. Provided they don’t mind diving with a black sheep, I take adventurous tourists down at exorbitant fees.”

It was out before she knew it was what she wanted. “Would you take me sometime?”

He shrugged. “Your money is as good as anyone’s.”

Annoyed with herself for feeling hurt, she said, “I was thinking more for old time’s sake.”

He drew his legs up and hooked his arms around them. “I wasn’t aware we had any old times.”

“Not because I didn’t want to have them,” she said softly.

“Is that why you made a bet with your friends that you wouldn’t have the nerve to kiss me?”

She felt her face flame. “The bet was their idea, not mine.”

“You took them up on it.”

“Yes I did, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

He tossed the cable aside and rolled over onto his stomach, levering himself up on his arms and exhaling slowly as he pushed himself away from the mat.

Inhaling, he lowered himself down to the point where his chest was a few inches from the floor. His control left her breathless. Resignedly she rolled over and began a set of push-ups as demanding as his own. Showing off? She wondered.

By the time she finished her repetitions she was breathing hard. Garth had already finished and his chest was hardly moving, she noted. And she had thought she was fit.

“You shouldn’t have regrets, especially about me,” he said unexpectedly.

She sat up and blotted her face with a towel. “Don’t flatter yourself. I haven’t exactly been pining.”

A water bottle lay within arm’s reach. Picking it up, he drank then offered it to her. She swallowed some water, trying not to think of his lips on the bottle before hers. Too intimate by far.

“I shouldn’t think you’d be left to pine for long.”

Her head came up. “Because I’m a doll who trades on her looks?”

A shadow darkened his rugged features. “That was cruel. I was out of line.”

Better late than never, she thought. “Thanks, but you were right. I let my parents manage my life for too long. Modeling was never what I wanted to do, but they came to depend on the glamour and the excitement. Whenever I go home I hear about what could have been.”

“They managed without you.”

She laughed hollowly. “I didn’t give them much choice.” When she finally convinced them she was serious, her mother had started a business advising other would-be models and her father had gone back into banking.

“Asserting yourself must have taken courage.”

Finally she had demonstrated a quality he could admire. She fought to stop her spirits from leaping. After he found out why she was here, he wouldn’t waste time admiring her. He would think she was being just as dishonest with him as she had been before. He would be right, too. She decided enough was enough.

She dragged in a steadying breath. “This meeting isn’t exactly an accident.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

She felt her eyes widen with astonishment. “How did you work it out?”

“I saw a program on TV about the facilities you people have available at the palace gym. You wouldn’t be here without good reason. Obviously your reason involves me.”

“I’m sorry,” she began.

His gesture sliced across her apology. “Never mind that, Serena. What do you want from me?”

Chapter 2

She looked around. The thumping music had stopped and people were streaming in from the other room, scattering themselves around the equipment. “Not here,” she said. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

He draped the towel around his neck. “I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes.”

She was ready in nine but he was already waiting for her, his dark hair glistening from the shower and his shirt damp as if he hadn’t taken the time to completely dry off. She knew better than to think he had been anxious to meet her. More likely he wanted to get the meeting over with as quickly as possible.

He gestured toward the battered pickup. “We can talk in my truck.”

She had been thinking along the lines of coffee and a baguette in a café by the waterfront. She saw him read her body language and frowned in disapproval. For the latte set he thought she still belonged to, or for her company?

Probably both, she thought on an inward sigh. One day she would learn that he simply didn’t want her around. “Lead on.”

He threw his duffel bag into the pickup and opened the passenger door for her from the inside. Before she could climb in, he reached down and pushed an assortment of fast-food wrappers under the seat. If not for the immaculate state of his diving equipment, she would have believed he was a complete boor.

“Now you can get in,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t care either way.

He slammed the door and she inhaled a mix of chlorine and southern-fried chicken. When he joined her, she asked, “Do you live in this thing?”

“Not usually.”

Only since his parents were killed, she interpreted, feeling a surge of compassion for him. She knew he didn’t have any other family, and losing them must have hit him hard. Her background check showed that he normally lived aboard his dive boat which was presently in dry dock. He would have inherited his parents’ house, but maybe he couldn’t bring himself to move in there yet and was living out of his car until his boat was repaired.

He could also be the rightful heir to the Carramer throne, she reminded herself, although without much conviction. If he ever assumed the crown, the country was in for a shock. The members of the royal family she had met were fairly down-to-earth, but none could match a long-haired, fried-chicken-eating bad boy like Garth. That he could be a de Marigny by birth seemed fantastic beyond belief.

Luckily she didn’t have to make the decision, only bring Garth to the palace so Prince Lorne could investigate his relationship to the throne. She choked back a smile as she pictured them together, alike enough in looks to be brothers, but as different in temperament as night from day.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, really. I’m here because Prince Lorne asked me to renew our acquaintance.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

This was the tricky part. A man as private as Garth wouldn’t take kindly to learning she’d been asking about him. “The castle has its resources.”

“Resources like having me watched?”

“Only so I could bring you to meet Prince Lorne.”

He slammed his palms against the steering wheel, making her jump. “The hell with that. Carramer is supposed to be a free country.”

In many countries he would probably have disappeared before he could destabilize the monarchy, she thought. “It’s precisely because it’s a free country that the prince asked to see you, instead of having you arrested and brought before him.”

He looked as if he didn’t particularly appreciate the courtesy. “Don’t tell me the navy has seen the error of its ways and the monarch wants to apologize and restore my commission personally.”

His cynical tone made her want to squirm. She didn’t tell him that the prince had already started a discreet investigation into Garth’s experience with the navy. No sense getting his hopes up in case nothing new was uncovered. “I wouldn’t know about that. He has something more personal to discuss with you.”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

“I can’t. It’s a matter of national security.”

“Is it, Serena? Or are you enjoying keeping me in the dark to punish me for hurting your pride all those years ago?”

She half turned, wishing the space weren’t so confined. Garth was so big that their knees were touching, only the gear shift keeping their bodies apart. If she pressed against him, would he feel as hard and lean as he looked? In the gym she had seen how toned he was, wanting to touch him then. She wanted it more now. Evidently she was the only one. Anger drove away the urge, leaving only bitterness. He hadn’t changed. “I’m not that petty.”

“No you’re not.”

The admission sounded so genuine so that she felt her eyes mist and she blinked hard. “To what do I owe the concession?”

He massaged his eyes, digging his fingers into the temples as if his head hurt. “You always managed to bring out the worst in me. I thought I’d grown past it, but evidently not.”

So he was far from indifferent to her! Struggling to keep her seesawing emotions under control, she said, “My father says the same thing about his brother. Even in their fifties, they still fight over little things. It’s called sibling rivalry.” Maybe she could manage her runaway responses by thinking of him in those terms.