Читать книгу A Royal Baby on the Way - Susan Mallery, Susan Mallery - Страница 7

Chapter One

Mitch Colton could smell trouble a mile away…or right in his own driveway. Especially when it came packaged in a sleek, midnight-blue Jaguar. He’d been on his way into the house after spending the morning in the barn with a sick cow when the sound of a car engine had caught his attention. And not just any car engine, but one belonging to an elegantly beautiful sports car.

He stared as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the wide porch that encircled the low, one-story ranch house. While he could admire the sleek lines of the car, he didn’t get the point. Sure, he could buy one, or even a dozen if he was so inclined, but he lived on a working ranch, and a car like that wasn’t practical.

Neither was the leggy redhead stepping out from behind the wheel.

Mitch blinked. Redhead? As in a woman? He looked closer. Yup, and to quote his father, she was a looker. Well dressed in a toast-colored sweater dress, the hem of which flirted with her calves. She was slender, with plenty on top to capture any man’s interest. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but enough of her face showed to convince him that she was somewhere between very pretty and knock-out gorgeous. Long, auburn curls fell down her back. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon, he thought.

‘‘Good afternoon,’’ the woman said as she approached the porch. ‘‘Are you Mitch Colton?’’

He frowned. She sounded funny. Almost English, but not quite. She sure as hell wasn’t from around here. He pushed his hat farther back on his head, propped one foot on the porch railing, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his raised thigh.

‘‘That depends on who’s doing the asking.’’

He’d half expected her to get annoyed, but she surprised him by smiling. ‘‘Don’t you sound like the local sheriff in a Western movie. All right, cowboy, we’ll do this your way.’’ She pulled off her sunglasses, extended her hand and approached the porch. ‘‘I’m Alex Wyndham. If you are Mitch Colton, I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.’’

He’d been holding his own, right up until she smiled and removed her sunglasses. The one-two punch of full lips curving in delight and baby-blue eyes hit him like whisky on an empty stomach. He straightened, swore silently, then leaned down to take her fingers in his. Even though he braced for the impact, the not-so-unexpected jolt of awareness crackled down to his toes. On the return trip, it settled somewhere a tad more interesting. Geez. All this over one little smile. Imagine what would happen to his body if she laughed, or God forbid, made that throaty purring sound women were so good at when they wanted a man.

He straightened and cleared his throat. ‘‘Ma’am.’’

Her smile broadened. ‘‘Ma’am. I’m sure you’re using that mode of address for different reasons than is normally the case. But I like it.’’

Okay, now he was officially lost. ‘‘What are you talking about?’’

‘‘Nothing. I’m just savoring the moment. Here I am having a real conversation with a real cowboy. You are a cowboy, aren’t you?’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ He drew the single syllable out a couple of beats, then sighed. He didn’t like the new direction of their conversation. ‘‘You’re not some buckle bunny out looking for a ride, are you? I didn’t do that kind of thing when I was a kid, and I’m sure as hell not going to do it now.’’

Her delicate eyebrows pulled together in a frown. She had the most perfect skin he’d ever seen. Except maybe on a baby’s butt. Faint color stained her cheeks, but he would have bet a prime steer or two that it was natural, not out of a compact. Her eyes were large, her lashes dark. High cheekbones and a pointed chin focused attention on her full mouth. Dress her up in some leather and lace and she would look like the poster girl for sin.

‘‘Buckle bunny?’’ His guest shook her head. ‘‘Are you talking about a rabbit? Don’t you have cattle on this ranch? I didn’t know anyone bred rabbits out West. Is there a market for them?’’

‘‘What are you talking about?’’ he asked. Rabbits? Was she crazy?

‘‘Rabbits. You mentioned them. Well, you actually said bunnies, but aren’t they the same thing? Are we having trouble communicating?’’

‘‘One of us is.’’ He folded his arms over his chest and glared down at her. Was she being dumb on purpose? ‘‘Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, lady.’’

She flashed him another smile. ‘‘Actually, I’m looking for your brother. John Colton. Could you tell me where he is?’’

While her conversation about rabbits had done a whole bunch to dilute his desire, her question squashed the last, lingering flicker of interest. Over the years he’d come to terms with his relationship with his brother, but he refused to be attracted to one of John’s old lovers.

He raked his gaze over her, starting at her expensive boots and ending at the riot of curls on the top of her head. ‘‘First of all, I don’t give out personal information to strangers. Second, you don’t look like his type.’’

‘‘Type?’’

The woman stared at him blankly. She repeated the word again, silently, as if trying to figure out what he meant. Her surprise was so genuine, he had to reassess his opinion of her.

‘‘You think we were involved?’’ she asked, faintly bewildered. ‘‘Oh, my. No, it’s not that at all.’’

But before she could explain exactly what their relationship was, or he could ask, a black sedan pulled into his yard and parked behind the Jag. Must be his day for company, he thought as two men in dark suits stepped out of the car.

Mitch might have spent most of his life either on the ranch or the rodeo circuit, but he knew security people when he saw them. The not-so-subtle bulges under their left arms came from handguns, not muscles.

‘‘You’ve got my attention now, lady,’’ he said.

‘‘Alex,’’ she murmured as she turned to look at the two strangers. ‘‘Just plain Alex.’’

He ignored her statement, mostly because it didn’t make sense. Interestingly enough, the two thugs were ignoring him, too. What was going on?

‘‘Why don’t you tell me who you are and what the hell you’re doing here?’’ Mitch asked.

One of the security men looked up and nodded politely, then spoke to the woman. ‘‘Princess Alexandra, you know you’re not allowed to go off unescorted. You’ve only been in this country a short time and you’re not familiar with the driving laws, nor will you know how to communicate with the local citizens.’’

‘‘They’re just people, Rowan. I’ve been communicating just fine.’’ The woman laughed.

How nice that she was amused, Mitch thought. Then he replayed the man’s statement a couple of dozen times in his brain. Princess Alexandra? Had he really said Princess?

‘‘No way,’’ he muttered, mostly to himself. ‘‘Not a real princess.’’

Alex, or Princess Alexandra or whomever she was, turned to face him and shrugged. ‘‘Sorry, yes. I’m a real princess. I have a king and queen for parents, three princesses for sisters. There’s even a palace.’’

His mind went blank. All he could do was stand there and repeat the same thing over and over again. ‘‘A princess? A real princess?’’ She didn’t look like a princess, he thought, staring at her dress and then her face. There wasn’t any crown or whatever it was princesses wore. ‘‘This is a joke, right?’’

‘‘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?’’