by Trish Morey
The worry in her voice sent Kayla’s nerves quivering. They couldn’t possibly be considering giving him up to the Mercurian royals—could they? Impossible.
“Send out the diplomats,” she suggested, only half joking.
“Oh, definitely. Droves of them.” She smiled, but it faded quickly. “I’ve got to admit, it worries me quite a bit. I’m going to have to make a call to them soon. I’ve got to tell them something. Max is going to have to level with me. And regardless, we’ll have to find some way to either meet their demands or placate them.”
“Meet their demands?” Kayla repeated, her dread growing.
Pellea gave her a reassuring pat. “Placating is probably safer,” she noted. Then she made a face. “If we sent him back to them, lord only knows what he might do.”
Kayla was beginning to rebel. After all, he wasn’t all that bad. A bit nonconformist, of course, but all in all, he was definitely a good guy, at least in her experience with him.
But Pellea was still thinking of examples. She shook her head. “Last night at the ball, when he was presented to the old duchess, my Great-Aunt Judis, I was afraid he was going to say something like, ‘Hey, Toots, could you get me a refill on this drink while you’re up?’”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “He didn’t!”
“No, he didn’t.” She raised a significant eyebrow. “But there’s something about him that keeps making me scared he will.”
Despite her regard for him as a man, Kayla knew exactly what she meant. She frowned, trying to key in to the heart of the matter.
“He just doesn’t have the proper instincts.”
“Exactly.”
She looked up hopefully. “He’ll learn.”
Pellea sighed. “Of course he will. But can we wait around for that to develop on its own? I think not.” She drew in a deep breath. “So I’m getting him a superior teacher.”
“Really?” Kayla’s heart fell but she fought against it. This was just what had to happen. He had to learn his place in the scheme of things and she had to keep her distance from the entire process. It was all for the best and she knew it. “Who is that?”
Pellea stared at her, lips pursed as though she were annoyed with her somehow.
“A wonderful woman. She’s perfect for this assignment. Her only flaw is that she is rather slow on the uptake at times.” She gave a sound of exasperation. “It’s someone he already respects and has a great affection for.”
“Really?” She was still frowning. She hadn’t realized he knew that many women here. But what was she thinking? He always knew women, wherever he happened to be. “Do I know her?”
Pellea threw up her hands. “It’s you, silly. And you have exactly one week to perform a magical transformation.”
Max arrived at Pellea’s office in a somewhat surly mood. He’d spent the morning thinking about what he was going to say to her and nothing very good had come to mind. He decided to go for the basics—to tell her why he’d been in Mercuria and how his work there went. Then maybe she could weave some sort of conspiracy out of it all.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” he said cheerfully as she rose to greet him. He kissed both cheeks and smiled at her.
“You just missed Kayla,” she told him. “I sent her on an errand.” She gave him a sharp look. “But that will give us a chance to talk openly, won’t it?”
He frowned, not sure he appreciated her implications that there might be things he could tell her that he wouldn’t tell Kayla. Still, he followed her lead and sat across from her at her desk.
“I take it you have something to tell me?” she said, looking almost eager.
He shrugged and took a deep breath. “I’ve made some inquiries. I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Good. Tell me what they are, because I don’t have a clue.”
He chewed on his lower lip, then admitted evasively, “I don’t really have anything definitive.”
She looked disappointed. “You don’t know why the Mercurians are angry with you?”
He laughed shortly. “Angry, sure. Ready to lock me away in a dungeon … not so much.”
Pellea’s eyes were cooler now. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?” she suggested. “Maybe there’s something you’re just not noticing. Why don’t you tell me everything? All about your time in Mercuria.”
He felt his jaw tighten, but he knew he really couldn’t blame her. So he tried to do it her way.
“Okay. It all started when an old flight instructor of mine recommended me to the Mercurian Army as someone who might be able to help them get an air force organized and trained. I flew over, met the king and talked to the military people in charge. It seemed like a decent little country, trying to emerge onto the global stage, but without a lot of money and mainly ancient aircraft at their disposal. The jets were going to have to come later. Anyway, I thought I could help them. Why not? So I signed on.”
“How long were you there?”
“Not quite a year.”
She nodded, thinking about what he’d told her and frowning. “Were you successful?”
“I thought so. We got a good skeleton of a program started.”
She nodded again. “Did you know they were helping us with our war effort?”
“Of course. That was one reason the project appealed to me. I’m Ambrian, too.”
“Why did you leave?”
That was a harder question. There were too many threads making up that answer to get into right now.
“Actually, around that time some old flying friends of mine showed up and talked me into coming over to join the fight for the restoration of the monarchy here in Ambria. It sounded like fun. Aerial combat and all that. And I was growing tired of all the bureaucracy I had to deal with in Mercuria. I wanted to get back into real flying again. So I joined up.” He looked at her expectantly, his story over.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Which tells me a lot,” she muttered, “and nothing.”
“Exactly.”
She studied his face for a moment. “Were they angry that you left when you did? Did they feel you hadn’t completed your commitment?”
He shook his head. “There might have been a little of that, but no one actually complained. They knew I was ready to go.”
He leaned forward. She deserved a better answer, but he just didn’t know what he could tell her that was going to give her the information she needed.
“Pellea, I did a lot of things that someone might look back on and decide were … out of bounds, perhaps. We were flyers. We raised hell. That’s what we do.”
Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m pretty sure this is more than raising hell,” she said. “You don’t say ‘dead or alive’ about a little carousing.”
“Okay, maybe … maybe an old girlfriend decided to take some sort of revenge. Maybe an innkeeper decided to blame me for a fight that might have torn up his bar and is suing for damages. Maybe someone who felt slighted by me in some way wants a pound of flesh. I just don’t know. And I’m not sure what you want me to do about it.” He shrugged. “Do you want me to issue an apology?”
“What? No. Of course not. Not until we know just what this is about.”
He bit his tongue, wishing he could lose the defensive attitude. He knew he hadn’t been living an exemplary life. He regretted it. Talking with Pellea, he wasn’t proud of it. But it was lousy being asked to explain it. Life was complicated enough without this stupid wanted poster arriving from Mercuria.
He sat back. “Leave it to me. I think I can handle this. It might take a little time, but I’ll get in touch with people I knew when I was there. I’ll let you know for sure when I think I’ve really got it pinned down.”
She nodded slowly. “Do that,” she said. “But make it soon.”
Kayla knew Max was going in to see Pellea first thing and she hoped they would be able to settle matters. It might be better if she could be there to help things along, but she had some business on the other side of the
castle and knew she would probably miss him. So she left Max a message to meet her in the hall of portraits, and to her surprise, he was right on time.
The fact that there was a hall of portraits was a miracle. During the original rebellion, when the Granvillis had burned most of the castle and killed the king and queen—the parents of the current crop of princes, as well as of King Monte, Pellea’s husband—they had destroyed everything they could get their hands on that might remind anyone of the deposed monarchy. A lot of paintings burned that night, but many of the most important ones were spirited out by various servants who hid them with relatives for the twenty-five years of the Granvilli regime.
After the restoration of the DeAngelis monarchy, when the castle archivist began to collect them and bring them home, there was a wave of emotion in the populace that touched them all. It was so very important to have these beautiful pictures to tell the story of what their history had been.
Kayla found Max gazing up at a huge stately portrait of his great grandfather. The fine-looking royal was wearing an ermine-lined cape and looking quite imperial and majestic.
“Quite a handsome bunch, your ancestors,” she noted, sliding in beside him and looking up as well. She felt proud for him, proud for Ambria. She only hoped he understood what it meant to be a part of this.
“They certainly seem well-turned out,” he agreed. “But then, you’ve always got artistic flattery on your side when you’re royalty.” He gave her a mock jab in the ribs with his elbow. “The artist makes them beautiful or he doesn’t get paid, I would think.”
“Maybe.” She gave him a sideways look. “But from the evidence presented by your brothers, I’d chock it all up to good genes.”
He shrugged and she frowned, not sure he was sufficiently impressed.
“After all, the blood of these very people flows in your veins,” she pointed out.
He grunted. “Let’s hope none of them were bleeders or vampires,” he said lightly. “Don’t those two things tend to run in this kind of family?”
For some reason him saying that made her absolutely furious. Did he really not understand how important his own family was? Or was he just trying to drive her crazy?
“There is no such thing as vampires,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Maybe not,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I’m going to start being more careful with the morning shave. You never know.”
“No one in the DeAngelis family has ever shown any signs of hemophilia,” she protested, trying hard not to let him see how annoyed she was. “Just forget it.”
He gave her a look that infuriated her even further, then shrugged again and turned away as though it hardly affected him anyway. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She knew she was being overly sensitive, and that he was playing on her emotions like a skilled musician. She had to hold it back. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing her feelings like this.
Slowly, she followed as he examined one portrait after another. She’d been here often in the last few months and she didn’t have to look at the labels to know who each one was. She was ready to answer any of his questions, but he didn’t say another word and she wondered what he was thinking.
No matter what, he had to be fascinated by the imposing DeAngelis family. Who could help it? And to think that he’d suddenly found out he was one of them.
They’d walked the length of the hall and then they both went out onto the terrace that overlooked the royal fields. Leaning against the massive stone guardrail, he smiled at her and her annoyance with his attitude began to melt away. She really couldn’t resist that smile.
“Did you talk to Pellea?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah. We had a little chat.”
“And?”
He eyed her questioningly. “What? You think I’m going to tell you everything I told her?”
She pulled back quickly. “No. Of course not.”
He laughed and reached out to push her hair behind her ear and then pull her closer again. “But you know I would. If there was anything to tell.”
“You didn’t come up with anything?” Her skin tingled where his fingers had touched and she frowned, trying to ignore it.
He hesitated. “Not anything sure. Or substantive.” He shrugged and changed the subject. “I can’t get over you being here like this,” he said. “What are the odds that we would both end up in the Ambrian castle? That was certainly a stroke of luck.”
“Yes, wasn’t it?”
She looked at his beautiful eyes and the hard, tanned planes of his handsome face and she knew he belonged with the men and women in those huge, gorgeously painted portraits in the hall. Someday his image would hang there with them. That was his destiny. Surely he knew that. Didn’t he?
“So how did Pellea find you, anyway?” he was asking her. “You said your sister had something to do with it?”
“I told you we’d known each other before. When my sister and her husband moved here, Caroline went to Pellea and told her about me and my situation and let her know I was looking for a job. It just so happened that she was looking for an assistant. So everything fell into place.”
“Good timing. Life can happen that way sometimes.”
She nodded ruefully. “Not often.”
“No.” A shadow flickered through his gaze. “Not often.”
They stood silently for a moment, each thinking private thoughts. Kayla was remembering Eddie and she was pretty sure he was, too. But she didn’t want to get started on that again. They had work to do.
“I guess you’re wondering why I asked you to meet me here,” she said at last.
He grinned at her using such a well-known cliché. “The question had crossed my mind a time or two,” he admitted. “And then I decided you just wanted me to learn to connect with my roots.”
“A simple goal, I would think.”
He grimaced. “So okay, I looked each ancient ancestor in the eye and took his measure. And the women, too. And I was impressed.” But he seemed a little impatient. “What else do you want from me?”
She drew a deep breath in slowly, wondering how to put this. She had no idea how he was going to take it. For all she knew, he might storm off and never speak to her again. Finally, she just blurted it out.
“Okay, Max. Here’s the deal.” She steeled herself. “Pellea wants me to teach you how to act like a prince.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MAX stared at her and for a moment, Kayla thought he hadn’t understood. But a faint smile quirked at the corners of his mouth and he repeated slowly, “Pellea wants you to teach me how to act like a prince?”
She nodded, waiting.
He gave her a look as though this was about as kooky as he’d thought things could get. “Really?” he said with a twist to his smile. “Who taught you?”
That was a good question and keyed right in to her deepest fears about this assignment. But she wasn’t going to let him know that. She hadn’t asked for this. In fact, she wished it hadn’t occurred to Pellea at all. But it had, and here they were, stuck with a project to do.
“I’m very observant,” she said cheekily. “Don’t worry. I won’t steer you wrong.”
He grinned, watching her with a slightly lascivious expression. “I’m not worried at all. I have every intention of becoming teacher’s pet in a major way.”
She pretended to frown. “Don’t count on that, mister. I’m a tough grader. You’re going to have to earn your graduation papers.”
“It’s a deal.” He pretended to look at his watch. “You’ve got two weeks to make me into royalty. Better get moving.”
She wasn’t crazy about the way he set it up like an adversarial position, but she’d known from the start that she would have to work fast. He didn’t have to remind her. His attention span wouldn’t last long. And he proved it by jumping to a new topic in seconds.
A man had walked by holding a baby, and they both looked up as
the baby made a cooing sound. She met Max’s wide eyes and they both smiled.
“Hey, when do I get to meet little … Teddy, did you say his name was?” he asked.
She felt a surge of unpleasant adrenaline.
“Yes, uh … Teddy.”
He looked at her curiously. “Is he here at the castle with you?”
“He stays with my sister during the day. I’ll … uh … make sure you get to meet him soon.”
“Good.” He frowned and she knew he was wondering why she was so hesitant. “I’ll bet he looks just like Eddie.”
Color filled her cheeks. She tried to force it back but it just kept coming. Had he noticed? Did he see how uncomfortable she was with this?
“He’s a little young to look like anyone right now,” she said breathlessly.
But he didn’t seem to notice her reaction. He was looking into the past, his brows pulled together, and thinking of how it had once been. “Thank God you had his baby,” he said softly, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Thank God there’s a piece of him left in the world.”
Her mind was racing. She had to think of something. Hopefully, he would forget about Teddy once he was thoroughly invested in taking on the royal mantle. That had to be her goal: to convince him that becoming a prince was something he wanted to do, that it would engage his mind and spirit like nothing else he’d ever done. Once he opened himself to it fully, he would be so busy, so connected with what was going on here in the castle, that he would forget about her and her son. They would just fade into a pleasant memory for him, and then her life could go on as it had before he ever got here.
But he was still frowning at her, searching her eyes. She pulled away from his hand and turned to look at the distant sea. They were miles away, but she thought she could hear the waves pounding on the rocks.
“Listen, what about this Mercuria situation? I know you don’t know exactly what their beef is, but you must have some idea of what set them off.” She turned back to look at him. “Any clue at all as to what their problem was?”