by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
Slowly she realized that Tyler had parked in front of an establishment called Betty Jo's. On the plate-glass window was painted a buxom blonde spilling out of a waitress's uniform—Betty Jo herself, according to the name tag—as well as the promise of The Best Breakfast in Town! Without glancing at Tyler, Anna returned the photo to her bag, then climbed out of the vehicle.
The restaurant was crowded with people who, like her, were practically delirious with their newly-returned ability to resume their lives. There was much talking, laughing, and teasing all through the dining room … except at the table she shared with Tyler. When the waitress arrived with a steaming pot of coffee, Anna felt almost as if she'd run into a treasured old friend. "You're Betty Jo," she said in greeting. "You look just like your picture on the window."
The rounded, artificially blond woman laughed heartily. "Why, bless your heart, honey, that'll earn you a free cup of coffee. I haven't looked that good since I was twenty-five, and, darlin', I am a long way from twenty-five." She filled their cups and distributed menus. "You folks just stopping by or have you been holed up at one of the motels?"
"We've been holed up at the lodge over near the Thrifty Warehouse," Anna replied. "And I think you look very good no matter how far you are from twenty-five. Who is the artist?"
"My boyfriend, Duane. He says that's how I looked when we met. He was traveling on the rodeo circuit, and I had just opened the place. He stopped for coffee and stayed for—well, it's been twenty years and counting. Say—" Betty Jo's brow wrinkled, and she cocked her head to one side. "Do I know you?"
"I don't believe that's possible. I've been in Garden City only one week, and all but an hour or two of that has been spent in our cabin at the lodge."
"Huh. You look awfully familiar. Of course, you sound awfully foreign, and I don't believe I know any foreigners other than a few rodeo cowboys from Canada. Where you from, hon?"
As Anna opened her mouth to answer, Tyler bumped her leg under the table. "Arkansas," she replied, giving him a frown.
The gentleman at the next table over laughed. "You must be slippin', Betty Jo, to mistake an Arkie for some foreigner."
She waved a dish towel in his direction. "Hey, she doesn't sound like no Arkie I've ever met." Once more she studied Anna. "You just look so familiar … maybe not like someone I know, but just someone I've seen. Oh, well, I'll figure it out sooner or later. You know how things just come to you when you're in the middle of doing dishes or reading People magazine or trying to fall asleep, and just out of the blue, there it is. Of course, you'll be back in Arkansas by then, won't you, hon?" she asked with a wink and a nudge. "Let me put your order in and we'll get your food out right away."
Anna watched her walk toward the kitchen, as did Tyler and the gentleman next door. "Don't worry," he said, duplicating Betty Jo's wink. "She'll be back."
About the time she reached the swinging door, Betty Jo did turn and come back, her expression comical. "I didn't take your order, did I?"
Anna shook her head. Once the woman remedied that and left again, Tyler scowled at her. "Has your picture ever been in People magazine?"
"I'm a princess, I'm single, my brother's gone missing, and my sister's recently married the eldest son of a sheik. Of course it has."
"Anything lately?"
"There was an article a year past about Lucas's plane crash, and another this past summer about Julia's marriage to Rashid. I believe both included some mention of me. Then there was the New Year's party on Montebello. There were so many press on the island then that I have no idea who all of them worked for." She sweetened her coffee, then, merely to annoy him, she added, "Photographs of me have also appeared in Time, Newsweek, and Vanity Fair, as well as National Geographic and various European publications."
Tyler made a disgruntled sound, then his expression took on an air of disapproval. "You've got to quit telling people you're from Arkansas. It doesn't fly. You don't sound like you're from there, and sooner or later someone's going to ask you where in Arkansas. Then what are you going to say?"
"Little Rock," she said with a smug smile, well aware he didn't expect her to know the name of even one single town in the state. "Perhaps the next time someone asks me a question, I shall answer truthfully. Or perhaps I should direct all inquiries to you—as if that wouldn't arouse suspicion—speak only when spoken to and walk five paces behind you with my head bowed. Perhaps I should even consider taking up the practice of veiling myself when I appear in public."
He made another sound, this one rude, as if he didn't believe she was capable of being subservient. He was absolutely correct. Betty Jo returned with their food, setting a giant waffle and hash brown potatoes with fried onions and peppers in front of Anna. Her eyes wide, she spread soft butter across the waffle, drenched it with maple syrup and took a bite that made her sigh. "Oh, this is wonderful. My compliments to you, Betty Jo."
"Oh, I just serve it, hon. I didn't make it," the woman said modestly.
"Perhaps not, but you hired the person who did."
"Gave birth to her, is more like it. My daughter's the head cook these days." She took condiments from a nearby table—tomato catsup, hot pepper sauce and steak sauce, for Tyler's morning hunk of meat—and set them down, then planted both bands on her hips. "Are you on TV, hon?"
"You mean, an actress? I fear I have no talent for performing."
"Pretty as you are, talent doesn't always matter. A singer?"
Anna shook her head.
"Are you married to someone rich and famous?"
Once more she shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Just to him."
Betty Jo looked at Tyler, then grinned. "Pretty as he is, fame and fortune don't always matter, either. Oh, well, like I said, I'll think of it one of these days."
Once they were alone again, Tyler quietly asked, "Have you been on TV?"
"I'm a princess, I'm single—"
"Yeah, yeah. I should have left you at the cabin. The last thing we need is for some celebrity watcher to recognize you and make a fuss."
"You didn't worry about it in Billings or Clarkston."
"How long were we together in Billings? Forty-five minutes? An hour?"
She gave him a sickly sweet smile. "And it seemed so very much longer."
He merely scowled and continued to eat.
She ate every bite of the hash brown potatoes and approximately half of the waffle before admitting defeat. While Tyler finished his meal, she said, "I believe we should conduct our interviews separately today. We've lost nearly an entire week due to the weather, and I feel it would be best if we move more quickly."
She fully expected him to disagree with her, to remind her that he was the trained investigator while she was merely along for the ride. Instead, after he pushed his plate away, then withdrew money from his wallet, he surprised her. "I agree. But you don't ask any questions in here."
"Why not? Betty Jo likes me, while she merely thinks you're pretty."
"At the moment, she may never connect you with Princess Anna of Montebello, especially with your hair like that. But if you stick a picture of Prince Lucas in her face, she just might remember everything."
"And that would be bad because…?"
"Because your brother is out there somewhere. He may be injured, he might have amnesia, or he could be in some sort of trouble. If the wrong person figures out who he is and finds him before we do, he might decide he deserves a reward for the prince's safe return."
And once he had the reward, he might not return her brother safely, or at al. Though their parents had strived to give them the most normal lives a prince and princesses could have, them had always been a heightened awareness among the family and about the palace regarding the dangers of kidnapping. She knew well it could happen, and the results could be disastrous.
"Very well," she agreed.
"And if you're asked, stick with my story. We're up here from Arizona, looking for a man who's gone missing. As far as we know, he's not in tro
uble, but his family wants to make certain he's all right. Understand?"
She fixed her gaze on him, wishing for the moment that her mother's lessons about not swearing hadn't taken so well. There were a number of things she would very much like to say to him at the moment. But she settled for the simplest and least offensive as she slid her chair away from the table and stood up.
"Very well."
Chapter 8
S he stood up as she did everything, Tyler thought. Gracefully. Regally. She never slouched, never darted shy little looks around. She acted like it had never occurred to her that there could be one single place in this world where she didn't belong.
With him came at the top of the list.
In spite of her request that morning in the snow.
He got to his feet and followed her to the cash register. There she took a mint from a tall glass bowl with Betty Jo's twenty-five-year-old figure etched into it, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. "I'll start on the opposite side of the street and work my way back toward the lodge."
Of course now that he'd agreed to her plan, he was having second thoughts about it. He was responsible for her safety. What if someone gave her a hard time or, worse, recognized her and grabbed her? What if some nutcase snatched her off the street without the slightest interest in the fortune the king would pay for her return? What if—
He forced himself to take a deep breath. Garden City was a regular small town in a regular state. The people were friendly, the crime rate was low, and women walked the streets safely day or night. The odds of anything happening to Anna were minimal, and even if someone did give her a hard time, there were plenty of decent people around to come to her aid. Her sister ran about free and easy in the big city of Billings, and there was no excessive concern for her safety. And, hell, he would be just across the street at all times.
"Stay on this street," he said at last. "And don't wander off. If someone wants you to go somewhere, come and get me. If someone has information on Lucas, come and get me. If—"
"Oh, please," she interrupted. "You remind me of Miss Ilsa, my nanny when I was four. I'm quite capable, Tyler. I can be trusted to walk into businesses and ask a few questions. And I haven't wandered off with a stranger since … well, since I left the mine in Clarkston with you last week." She smiled pointedly. "See you later."
He watched her go, tracking her progress as she crossed the street, then entered the dry cleaners' and tailor shop at the end of the block. Even when she was out of sight, he continued to watch, until Betty Jo spoke behind him.
"She's a pretty one. How long have you two been together?"
"We're not—" He broke off the absentminded answer and faced the woman. "We're not together, exactly. We—we work together."
"Uh-huh. Well, I've got news for you, hon—a couple looks at each other the way you two was looking at each other … you're together. You may as well accept it now and make the best of it."
His face grew warm as his cheeks turned red. Awkwardly, he shoved the tab across the counter to her, then handed her a twenty. "Do you happen to know if the road to the mine is passable yet?"
"Yes, sir, it is. You have business out there?"
"I have business everywhere." He accepted his change, then pulled the prince's photograph from his inside jacket pocket. "Have you seen this man?"
She held it at arm's length, studied it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I have … but not around here." Her narrowed gaze shifted toward the street outside and the path Anna had taken to the dry cleaners', then slowly came back to him as she lowered her voice. "I've seen him on TV, in People magazine, in the newspapers, but no, not around here. Do you think he's been in this area?"
Tyler shifted uncomfortably. "He was working on a ranch down in Colorado. Supposedly he headed up this way to work in one of the mines. He answers to the name of Joe."
She shook her head vigorously, then handed the picture back to him. "You can ask around, but I'm telling you, he hasn't been here."
"How can you be so sure?"
"You ever see the movie Casablanca? With Bogart and Bergman? There's a line in it about how everyone goes to Rick's place. Well, around here, everyone who comes to Garden City comes to Betty Jo's. We really do have the best breakfast in town—to say nothing of the fact that my daughter the cook looks even better than I did in my heyday. Besides, Garden City's a small town. New people get noticed—and talked about. A new guy who looked like that—" she nodded in the direction of the photograph he'd just put up "—would be fresh out of secrets within twenty-four hours of arriving here."
"Thanks," Tyler said. He was halfway to the door when she spoke again.
"So there was a reason she looked so familiar." She flashed a grin. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone … at least, not until you've left town. Tell her getting rid of those curls was a good idea. I would've known her right away if the straight hair hadn't thrown me."
Tyler nodded in acknowledgment, then stepped outside. At the bank down the street, a lighted sign declared the temperature was thirty-seven degrees. Most of the time he would think that was pretty damn cold, but after the week they'd had, it felt like a regular heat wave.
No one else he spoke to that morning shared Betty Jo's recall for faces. There were a few curious questions about who Lucas was and why he was looking for him, but mostly he encountered a general disinterest No one was rude about it. They simply didn't know the prince as Joe, Lucas or anyone else and had zero information to offer. He was beginning to suspect that going to the mine would be a waste of time, but he couldn't blow it off. So Lucas hadn't spent any time in Garden City. That didn't mean he hadn't driven straight through town to the mine, looking for work. It sure didn't mean there wasn't someone at the mine who had told him Sorry, but we're not hiring, or You're not qualified, or Can't help you.
He caught regular glimpses of Anna as she moved from business to shop along the street. Once, when she stood outside the drugstore talking to the pharmacist, she looked up and caught him watching her. He would have given a lot if she'd smiled, but she hadn't. Hell, when was the last time he'd given her a reason to smile?
That morning, a small voice whispered, when she'd laughed uncontrollably as he chased her through the snow. Before she'd asked him to make love to her. Before he'd told her no.
Ever since, she'd been acting as if none of it had happened. Was he seeing firsthand the poise and grace that were bred into her? Or had the incident in the backyard meant so little to her? He preferred to believe the former.
But he couldn't rule out the latter.
He reached the end of the business district on his side of the street, waited for a truck to pass, then crossed to the other side. Just as he stepped onto the curb, Anna came out of the video store, a bag of fresh hot popcorn in her hands. "Oh," she said, as if she hadn't expected to see him. "You're ready."
"Yeah. I don't suppose you found out anything."
"I learned a great many things this morning—none of them, I'm sorry to say, pertaining to Lucas. Popcorn?"
He took a handful and tossed one fluffy kernel into his mouth. "My luck was the same. I guess now we head out to the mine."
She nodded as they turned back toward the SUV, a half-dozen blocks away. They strolled along a snow-packed sidewalk as if it were as clear as the blue sky above them, and she ate her popcorn and spent a lot of time gazing in the display windows of stores she'd already been inside. Finally, because he was tired of the silence, because he wanted to hear her voice, he asked, "So what did you learn this morning?"
"That Garden City was founded in the 1870s and was named by a man who promised his wife back East a lovely home in a charming town with a temperate climate perfectly suited for year-round gardening. She liked the town's name and made the journey out only to discover that her lovely home was a hovel, the charming town was dirty and dangerous, and the temperate climate … well…" She raised her free hand in a gesture toward the snow.
"I also learned that t
hey produce enough gold and silver here to ensure that none of my favorite Italian jewelers should ever run short of materials to produce baubles. In summer, it's a wonderful place to stay while you visit Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. The sheriff is a former football star at the University of Nebraska, where they go by the rather odd name of Cornhuskers. And the mayor's two sons are both home for a visit from their jobs in Los Angeles, California, and Washington, D.C., and she was quite certain that either one or both of them would be more than happy to show me a good time this weekend."
Tyler gave her a sidelong glance. "You don't get to have a good time when you're with me."
"Tell me something I don't already know," she said dryly.
The comment stung, though he knew it shouldn't He wasn't here to entertain her, keep her laughing or seduce her, and, hell, she wasn't supposed to be here at all. But she was, and it was killing him.
"Did you learn anything from Betty Jo?" Anna asked after a time.
"Yeah. She said to tell you your curls would have given you away in a heartbeat." He hesitated, then asked, "How'd you get your hair to do that?"
With a faint smile, she touched her hair. "With a blow dryer, a large brush, various solutions and gels, and super-heavy-duty hair spray. My stylist at the palace says my hair will do anything I want it to do … as long as what I want it to do is curl. Before I gave up on wishes, I wished every night to awaken the next morning to straight hair like my mother's or my sisters'. Eventually I accepted that it was never going to happen—at least, not on a permanent basis."
"I like your curls." Immediately he regretted the words. One of the lessons drummed into him in his training—Show the enemy a weakness and he'll exploit it—certainly applied here. Not that Anna was his enemy, by any means, but she was a beautiful, desirable, at least temporarily attainable woman who, for some unknown reason, had decided she wanted him. If she had a clue exactly how much he wanted her, he wouldn't hold out much hope for his holding out.