The Carramer Trust

He gave a humorless laugh. “Believe me, whatever I thought of you, it wasn’t brotherly.”

Hurt speared her in spite of her attempt to remain unruffled. “Because we came from such different backgrounds?” Was he holding that against her even today?

“Because we come from such different genders.”

It took a moment for his meaning to penetrate. “Oh.”

“They must have taught you about the birds and the bees in security school?”

Thinking of the ways she had been taught to disable a man who even looked as if he had birds and bees on his mind, she felt a smile start. “Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking. If you did, you’d be out of this truck like a shot.”

If she had any sense, she would leave anyway. But when had she ever had any sense around Garth Remy? And she still had her job to do. She tried for a light tone. “Let me guess. You’re wondering if you made a mistake letting me slip through your fingers the first time.”

He stilled so completely that she wondered if she was on the right track. Surely not? After graduation he had made no attempt to contact her, although he had admitted knowing where she was. And his reaction to seeing her again today couldn’t have been less welcoming. “You were never in my fingers to slip through,” he said after a long time. “All we did was kiss once so you could win a bet. Hardly the love affair of the century.”

How had they strayed onto this track? She felt weary of her body’s betraying response to him, and the one-sided nature of the game. “You’re right. We had nothing then and we have nothing now. At least we agree on something.”

He didn’t look as pleased as she thought he should. “There’s still the reason you’re here.”

“I told you, to arrange a meeting between you and Prince Lorne.”

Garth’s eyebrow lifted. “The ruler of the whole country doesn’t own a telephone?”

“This is too important to discuss by phone. Can’t you just come with me and be done with it?”

A glint of challenge lit his dark gaze. “Maybe I enjoy giving you a hard time.”

“Nothing new in that.”

“When does the prince want to see me?”

“As soon as you’re available.”

“What’s wrong with right now?”

She knew her quick glance at his clothes gave her away as soon as she saw him bristle. “My dress suit is at the cleaner’s. Now or never, your choice.”

“Let me make a phone call.”

He waited with obvious impatience as she called the castle, using Prince Lorne’s private number as instructed. If the monarch was taken aback at Garth’s insistence on an immediate meeting, she didn’t hear it in his voice. “Give me an hour,” was all he said. From experience she knew how much juggling it would take for the prince to free his time. If she wasn’t already aware of it, Lorne’s readiness to do so signaled the gravity of the situation.

She flipped the phone closed. “The prince can see you in an hour.”

He looked satisfied. “The castle is ten minutes away. That gives us some time to kill. I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee.”

The last thing she wanted was to spend more time than she had to with him, but neither could she let him out of her sight. “Okay. We can take my car.”

“What’s wrong with this one? Oh, I forgot, this meeting is black tie. It’s probably treason to roll up at the castle in a car you haven’t cleaned in under forty-eight hours.”

Forty-eight days looked more like it. “I doubt if the prince will care what you’re driving,” she said heavily. She could have one of her security team retrieve her car from the gymnasium later.

“But you do.”

“Stop it,” she insisted. “I’m only doing my job.”

“What made you give up the glamorous life for a gritty job like policing?”

She had to get out of the confined space before she did something really silly, like run the back of her hand down his stubbled cheek to see how it felt. “Can we swap life stories over coffee?”

“Sure.”

She jumped as he reached across her, his hand brushing her breast by accident or design. Either way, her pulse rate shot up. But it was only to lift a black, zippered case from a shelf near her knees. He opened it and took out a portable razor, turning it on and filling the compartment with the sound of angry bees.

Fascination gripped her as she watched him steer the razor across the faint hint of a cleft in his chin. Up and down and across without once looking in a mirror. When he flicked the razor off, the silence was deafening. He lifted her hand to his cheek. “Better?”

His freshly shaved skin felt taut and vital. She was alarmingly aware of his hand guiding hers but couldn’t bring herself to pull away, not even when he made her index finger skim along his lower lip. She felt a little hollow there she hadn’t noticed before. Her breathing shallowed. Half an inch higher and he could close his lips around her finger.

He let her go and she masked her disappointment. It was for the best, she reminded herself unsuccessfully. “Much better.”

Ten minutes ago she had wanted caffe latte by the waterfront. The place he took her to hardly qualified as a café although it was in the open air. More like a kiosk with an awning that folded down when the place was closed, it boasted a few plastic tables and chairs scattered on the grass in front. At least it was waterfront, if she counted the commercial fishing fleet as a view.

He surprised her by pulling out a chair for her. “I eat breakfast here most mornings. Alice’s food is the best.”

So was her coffee, Serena had to admit when the woman brought it for them with a warm smile of welcome. Latte for her, espresso for Garth. Appearances could be deceptive. “This is really great coffee,” she said after the first sip.

Garth looked at the waitress. “Your place is Solano’s best-kept secret, isn’t it, Alice?”

The woman pretended offence. “The number of people you bring here, we’ll always be a secret.”

“I don’t want to share you with just anyone,” he confided.

He wanted to reassure his friend, not make Serena feel special, but he had that effect, she found to her dismay. This would have to stop. As soon as she delivered him to Prince Lorne she would be finished with this. Finished with him.

What would she do if he turned out to be the heir to the throne? Request a transfer back to active policing, she thought. She couldn’t imagine working with him, guarding him, even if he would allow it. He was used to fending for himself, keeping his private life private.

Who would get the greater shock? Garth because his life would be an open book as soon as his heritage was established, or the Carramer people who would have to deal with having a lone wolf as their monarch?

While Serena was lost in thought Alice had moved away to serve another customer, a fisherman, judging by his appearance. The practical setup of the place began to make sense. You could come straight from your boat to a table without worrying about sea-soaked clothes or muddy boots. Serena leaned back. “This is nice.” The salt tang of the air, smelling faintly of fish, was refreshing. Gulls wheeled over the boats, diving on scraps as fishermen cleaned their catches. In its own way, the scene was as beautiful as if the commercial boats had been millionaires’ yachts.

He nodded. “Alice is like a mother to half the fleet. Alice and my mother used to go to the Marine Benevolent Society together to visit the old sailors. She was a good friend to my folks.”

And to him, she heard. “Where do you keep your dive boat?”

As soon as his accusing gaze flayed her, she knew she’d made a mistake. “When it’s not in dry dock, it’s moored around the point, but you know that already. Is there anything your inquiries haven’t told you about me?”

She couldn’t stop herself. “Two things—why you have such a colossal chip on your shoulder, and what you’ve got against me personally.”

He cupped his hands around his coffee mug. Large, practical hands designed for hard work. But not callused or workworn. He might forget to shave in the morning, but his hands looked cared for. She remembered the well-maintained diving gear in the back of his truck. He cared for what was important to him.

“My chip is my business.”

He’d deliberately answered only part of her question, she noted. “You said we could exchange life stories over coffee.”

“You first.”

She wasn’t going to get anything out of him that he didn’t want to share, she understood. She was surprised how much she wanted to share. Maybe if she set an example. “As I told you, I went to the police academy. Graduated third in my class. Worked in uniform for a couple of years then in plain clothes undercover. Then got an invitation to join the R.P.D.” One of only a select few.

He nodded. “Nothing there I couldn’t find out on the public record. What about marriage, children?”

Don’t read anything into the question, she ordered herself. He was probably trying to even the score. “They’d be on public record, too, if I had any.”

“So presumably you don’t. What happened? Afraid of spoiling your model figure?”

She refused to give him the satisfaction of baiting her. “You never know when you’ll need something to fall back on.” She knew she’d said the right thing when she saw respect spark in his gaze. She crossed her forearms on the table. “Your turn.”

“Joined the navy. Thrown out of the navy. Not much more to tell.”

She tossed his own words back at him. “What about marriage, children?”

“Didn’t want to spoil my model figure,” he said, grinning.

Despite herself, she returned his smile. It felt good to laugh with him. She may not have learned much but the ice felt well and truly broken. She was surprised when he said, “I had my share of relationships, one even looked as if it would last. Remember Julia Francis?”

Quick flare of jealousy, just as quickly squashed. “The redhead star of the track team?”

“The same. We lost touch for a few years until she joined the navy, so we had that in common, among other things.”

She didn’t like imagining the other things. “What happened?”

“When I was kicked out of the service, she thought associating with me might tarnish her career. She didn’t mince words. Told me bluntly why it had to be over.”

Underneath that gruff exterior he had feelings and they had been hurt, Serena concluded. Her hand was halfway across the table before she pulled back, sure he wouldn’t welcome her touch, however well-meaning. “I gather it was a long relationship until then.”

“On and off for a few years, depending on what we were doing. Luckily Julia hadn’t wanted children, so the ending was painless.”

He hadn’t said whether he wanted children. And she doubted whether the break had been as painless as he made it sound. She looked at her watch, wishing they could talk for longer.

He caught the gesture. “I know this is boring stuff.”

This time she did touch his hand. “I’m not bored. I don’t want to keep the prince waiting.”

She reached for her purse, but he had already dropped money on the table. “I’ll buy the next round,” she said, wondering what had happened to delivering him to Lorne and moving on.

There wouldn’t be a next round if he had anything to do with it, Garth thought. He had brought Serena to Alice’s kiosk to remind himself that she didn’t fit into his world, then had been surprised by how comfortable she had looked.

Thirteen years ago she would have recoiled in disgust at the stained plastic furniture and the thick stoneware mugs Alice served her coffee in. She wouldn’t have breathed in the fish-tainted air as if it were perfume.

Could Serena have changed so much? Her grooming still screamed class. Even glistening with perspiration in the gym, she had looked like a million dollars. And she still had the longest legs he’d ever seen. She’d always had a great body, and her work had honed her shape to a new level of perfection.

When he had pulled her against him in the gym, his hormones had gone into orbit. He’d wanted to take her in his arms more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.

He hadn’t exactly been honest with her. The thing with Julia Francis had been more off than on, and she had ended it about twenty-four hours before Garth could suggest it himself. They had been good in bed together, but out of it, had disagreed about almost everything.

Pride had driven him to let Serena think he had a string of relationships behind him. And stopped him from telling her why he hadn’t. What would she think if he told her she had been his yardstick for the perfect woman all these years, and he had yet to find anyone who measured up.

Time and again he’d cursed his foolishness in letting her haunt him. As he’d told her, one kiss hardly amounted to the romance of the century. It hadn’t stopped him from looking for her in the background whenever there was a story about the monarch on TV or in the papers. After she sent the wreath, he hadn’t responded because he’d feared the effect she might have on him. With good reason, he now saw.

Now she was here, he hated feeling so stupidly glad about it. He couldn’t let it lead to anything. Her pedigree hadn’t changed and neither had his. As a navy lieutenant he might have had something to offer her, but not anymore, thanks to Admiral McRafe. He had presided over the inquiry that had ended Garth’s career, supposedly because his error led to a trainee almost dying during Advanced Nitrox Training.

The admiral hadn’t wanted to hear about Garth’s suspicions of the stage bottle that carried the nitrox mix, probably because the admiral’s brother-in-law’s company had supplied the equipment, something Garth hadn’t found out until too late. He had gone to the admiral with the truth, mainly to stop anybody else from getting hurt. To Garth’s disgust, the admiral had denied everything and had him escorted off the base. Later, he had heard from a friend still in the service that the defective stage bottles had been quietly replaced and a new supplier found. It was something, he supposed.

He had no idea why Serena had come looking for him or why Prince Lorne wanted to see him, unless he wanted private diving lessons. But he would go along because he respected the monarch. Although born to his role, the prince worked hard for the country. From what Garth had read, he had gone through hell with his first marriage, but stuck it out to set a good example rather than change the law that made divorce illegal in Carramer. Fate had intervened when his wife was killed driving too fast along a cliff road, then Lorne had married Alison Carter, the Australian tourist who had turned out to be the love of his life.

Jealousy gripped Garth. He wanted what the prince had, but had only met one woman he considered worth a lifetime commitment. She was so far out of his reach he’d need decompression time if he stayed around her for very long.

Not that he was going to, he assured himself. He would meet the prince, be whatever use the monarch thought he could be to his country, then get back to his own life before Serena worked her way any further under his skin.

Finding out that he’d been under surveillance by the palace had made him feel like the boy from the wrong side of the tracks all over again. He hadn’t felt this inadequate for a long time, and his instinctive response had been to bite back, Serena being the handiest target. He wouldn’t blame her if she wrote him off as a world-class jerk for the second time in their lives, he thought, watching her glide back to his truck. Her hips swayed sensuously and her long blond ponytail kept time. Police training hadn’t stopped her moving like a model, he noticed. He wondered if she still kissed like a dream.

Chapter 3

Although Garth had lived in Solano most of his life, he hadn’t set foot inside the castle grounds for years. Located on a promontory, the distinctive European-and Pacific-influenced building could be seen from every part of the city. Today the blue-and-jade Carramer flag flew above the battlements, indicating that the monarch was in residence.

Garth could have taken a tour of the public rooms anytime he wanted, but he considered the royals irrelevant to him and his day-to-day concerns. He couldn’t imagine what Prince Lorne could want with him. By rights Garth’s treatment by the navy should have soured him on serving his country. Maybe because he knew he had been wronged by one man rather than the whole service, it hadn’t. He was curious in spite of himself, although he wasn’t about to let Serena know it.

She broke into his thoughts. “Turn left here and pull up beside the sentry box.”

They were at a private entrance, he saw. Recognizing Serena, the soldier on duty came to attention and saluted but also took careful note of the ID she handed to him. When she introduced Garth, the soldier checked his details against a computer screen, then signaled to another sentry. In front of them a boom gate rose slowly, allowing them to pass.

As soon as Garth drove through, the gate lowered behind them. Ahead loomed the main castle surrounded by a cluster of smaller buildings in similar architectural style. More like a walled city than a single building. Below them, the capital was strung out jewel-like along a series of bays. The view from the upper levels of the palace must be really something.

He glanced at Serena. “Your soldier friend wasn’t keen to let me pass without you vouching for me. He probably thinks I’m a suspect you’re bringing in.”

She smiled. “Your fault for not wearing your black tie.”

It was probably the truck, he thought. The soldier looked as if he was more accustomed to waving limousines through than dusty pickups.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.

Her comment startled him. He hadn’t meant to let it show. “Maybe a little.”

“Admit it, you like thumbing your nose at convention.”

He wasn’t ready to admit anything. “What makes you think so?”

“The diving gear you’re carrying around is worth a fortune, so you can obviously afford a better vehicle. My guess is, you like shocking people into accepting you as you are.”

“It’s as good a way as any to find out who your real friends are.”

Had she passed muster by agreeing to ride with him to the palace in his truck, she wondered? A glimmer of satisfaction greeted the thought. Maybe now he would stop regarding her as a hothouse flower. Not that she was going to let his opinion affect her. But like him, she disliked being judged on superficialities.

The staff had obviously been alerted to expect them. As soon as they reached the executive wing, they were shown to the prince’s office with none of the usual formalities, then left alone with him, also as apparently instructed.

Approaching the monarch’s desk, she was surprised when Garth came to attention and bent his head in deference. She was sure he didn’t bend his stiff neck to many people, so he obviously respected Prince Lorne.

She made a similar gesture. “Sir, may I present Garth Remy.”

The prince stood and offered his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting at such short notice, Garth.”

Garth shook the prince’s hand with a confidence that suggested he met reigning monarchs every day. “My pleasure, Your Highness. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m at your service.”

Lorne inclined his head in acceptance. “Greatly appreciated.” To Serena, he said, “The resemblance is indeed remarkable.”

Seeing the two men together, she had to agree. Garth was almost exactly the prince’s height. With their dark coloring and athletic build, they could be mistaken for brothers. Or be brothers. She caught her breath. Was it possible?

Garth looked as if he was absorbing the fact, as well. “You aren’t looking for a double, are you, sir?”

“You would certainly qualify, but no. Please sit down, both of you. I gather Serena hasn’t told you what this is about?”

“I’m assuming you don’t want me to take the American president diving while he’s in town, sir.”

As she seated herself beside Garth on a leather-covered couch, Serena hoped she didn’t look as stunned as she felt. Had Garth forgotten he was addressing the country’s ruler? Or had he specifically chosen not to use “Your Highness”? Lorne only chuckled. “Golf is more his game, but I might run the suggestion past his Secret Service.”

He moved to a chair set at right angles to the sofa and sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. “How much do you know about your family background, Garth?”

She felt rather than saw Garth tense as the line of questioning caught him off guard. “The usual. One mother, one father, both from Carramer, both recently deceased. No siblings.” He shot a sharp glance at Serena. “Should I know any more?”

“Perhaps.” Lorne reached across and lifted a package off his desk. Recognizing it, she braced herself as the prince offered it to Garth. “Serena intercepted this during her preparations for the president’s visit. Go ahead, take a look.”

Garth took the package and opened it. The cast of baby footprints and the birth certificate caused no reaction, until he came to the photos. Anger vibrated off him like an electrical charge. “How were these taken without my knowledge?”

“Not by anyone in royal service and not on my authority,” Lorne assured him. “More importantly, the photos and the other items clearly suggest that you could be the rightful heir to the Carramer throne.”

Not by so much as a muscle did Garth’s expression betray his shock, although his bearing became more rigid as he absorbed the monarch’s words. He looked like a man turned to stone, she thought, wishing she had been able to prepare him for this. Perhaps nothing could have done.

He exhaled heavily. “With respect, sir, that’s garbage and we both know it.”

At this Lorne’s mouth twitched, as if he understood that in any other company, Garth would have expressed himself in far more earthy terms. “I thought so, too, when Serena brought me the package. The source of the material forces me to consider the possibility.”

Hands tightening on the plaster cast as if he would like to crush it to dust, Garth said, “First I’d have to be a member of your family, your…”

“…older brother,” Lorne finished for him. “Also a possibility.”

“How?”

The prince stood up. “Come with me.”

Motioning for his guards to remain where they were, he led the way along a corridor, coming to a halt in front of an oil painting of a woman in her late twenties. Flawless of complexion, as dark of coloring as Lorne himself, her sashed gown and diamond-encrusted crown proclaimed her rank before Lorne said, “My mother, Princess Aimee.” He turned to Garth. “It seems she may have been your mother as well.”

Unable to deny the resemblance they could all see, Garth’s fists clenched. He was fighting himself, she saw. Being related to this lovely, aristocratic woman would make a mockery of the pigheaded reverse snobbery that had ruled his life.

Her pulse jumped. If Lorne was right, Garth had no reason to hold her background against her. Assuming that was really why he had rejected her all those years ago. She felt giddy with possibilities and slightly afraid.

His snarled denial brought her back to earth with a rush. “No way. I know who my mother was.”

“Can you be sure of your facts?” Lorne asked.

“Can you be sure of yours—sir?”

So this was what happened when two alpha males met head-on. They’d squared off in mirror positions of anger and challenge. As if he could no longer tolerate the portrait’s gaze upon him, Garth suddenly spun around and shouldered his way through a set of etched glass doors leading to a walled garden.

When she and Lorne caught up with him he was pacing the length of an ornamental pool. Pebbles crunched under his feet and the glasslike surface of the water reflected his set expression. “This whole notion is crazy, Your Highness,” he snapped.