Romancing the Crown Series

by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)

  Once again Ursula interrupted before he could answer. "You know these people, Des?"

  His smile was taut. "Anna is my cousin, and Ramsey is working for her father."

  Anna felt an odd need to deny his words, but the truth was, he was as much her cousin as Lorenzo and his older brother, Max. After all, it was their fathers' blood that connected them, so what did it matter that Desmond didn't share a mother with Lorenzo and Max?

  What mattered, she admitted, was that he was here in Colorado when he shouldn't have been, and that look of guilt when he'd seen them at the door. What especially mattered was that he had become intimately involved with the woman who appeared to be their best chance for finding Lucas.

  Most of all, it mattered that instinct told her there was something not quite right here.

  "I could ask you the same question, Anna," Desmond said at last. "Uncle Marcus seems to be under the impression that you're in Billings visiting your sister. I'm sure he would be very curious as to how you wound up in Colorado with Ramsey."

  She refused to be intimidated. She could handle Papa—it was a skill with which she'd been born—and any concerns he might have about her time with Tyler would surely be alleviated when she told him she loved Tyler. Whether he loved her back, whether he chose to never see her again, she would always love him.

  "You could ask the same question, Desmond," she said coolly, "but I am under no obligation to answer your questions. You, unfortunately, cannot say the same about my questions."

  Anger turned Desmond's blood hot, but he kept it well-hidden. Eighteen years of being almost a royal but not quite, almost a fully accepted part of the family but not quite, had given him plenty of practice. Feeling nothing but derision and hatred for his worthless little cousin, he reached deep inside himself to find calm. "Ursula, would you be so kind as to give us a moment alone?"

  "Of course. I'll fix some coffee." She scrambled to her feet and left the room.

  Hands behind his back, he strolled to the hall door to make certain that she had, in fact, gone to the kitchen. He wouldn't put it past the little bitch to hang outside the door and eavesdrop. But the hallway was empty, and the sounds of water running and cabinets opening came from the kitchen.

  Standing there where he could see, Desmond faced their guests and prepared to lie. "How could I not come, Anna?" he asked smoothly. "This ranch is the only substantive clue to Lucas's whereabouts. Your father has done all he can, such as sending people—" he gestured toward Ramsey "—to search for Lucas. Total strangers as well as friends are looking for him. Lorenzo has gotten involved. Even you have. How could I stay home in San Sebastian and do nothing? Your papa is so anxious for news. It broke my heart to watch him face each day with less and less hope. He's not a young man, and as much as he loves his girls, his son holds a special place in his heart. It's killing him to watch and wait and hear nothing. And so I came. Perhaps I can't truly help, but on the other hand, perhaps the others have missed something that I, who have known Lucas so many years, might catch."

  Of course, knowing Lucas all those years didn't count for much when the two of them had never even remotely resembled friends. Though there had never been any question of his rightful place in the Sebastiani family, Desmond had known from the beginning that Lucas neither liked him nor wanted him around. For a time he'd written it off to the similarity in their ages—Lucas was only a year younger, an immature boy who might not want to share his attention with anyone else—but eventually he'd realized his cousin didn't trust him.

  And as it turned out, Lucas had been right to distrust him, he thought, keeping back his sardonic smile through force of will.

  That boy's going to be the death of you, his stepfather used to war his mother. The old bastard had been partially right Desmond was going to be the death of somebody.

  His dear cousin Lucas.

  The future king would be dead.

  Long live the new king, his dear half brother Lorenzo.

  * * *

  Tyler wouldn't claim to actually know Desmond Caruso. Their paths had passed a number of times on Montebello—in town, in clubs, at palace functions. He knew enough about Caruso to know he didn't want to know him better, and finding him there with Ursula Chambers just reinforced that notion. He was a little too smooth, too cagey, too … hell, Tyler didn't know exactly. He just knew he didn't trust him.

  As far as that went, he didn't trust Ursula Chambers, either. There was a gleam in her eyes that set all of Tyler's senses on alert. She was an ambitious woman, and he was damn sure something about this whole search had set her highest ambitions in motion.

  They were sitting at the kitchen table, four untouched cups of coffee between them. "Ms. Chambers—"

  "Oh, please…" She laughed. "Call me Ursula." But the laugh was a touch too phony, the graciousness a degree overdone.

  "I understand you had a hand working here at the ranch by the name of Joe, who disappeared not long ago. Have you heard anything from him?" Though he suspected Desmond had told the woman that they believed Joe was the missing prince, he wasn't going to be the one to let the cat out of the bag if Desmond hadn't.

  "No, I'm afraid I haven't. I do hope everything's all right. He was a bit on the odd side, I admit—very private, kept to himself, very much a loner—but … cowboys tend to be on the odd side, if you ask me. I think it's the job—the hours and the work and the isolation. I love being out here in the middle of nowhere, but it takes a special breed to fully appreciate it."

  Funny. Tyler would have bet next year's salary that she was happiest in the middle of a big bustling city. She didn't strike him as the type able to endure solitude or her own company for long.

  "You know, Tyler—may I call you Tyler?" She laid her hand over his on the table and batted her big baby blues. When he nodded, she gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it. "You know, Tyler, a person never would have guessed from talking to Joe that so many people would be so interested in him. I mean, according to him, he was pretty much alone in the world—didn't have any family or any past that he wanted to talk about, at least. In the whole time he was here, no one paid him any mind, and then he leaves—which cowboys tend to do, you know—and suddenly people care. Why is that?"

  "I'd like to think that somebody would care about all of us if we disappeared," he replied easily. "What about your other employees? Any of them friends with Joe?"

  She shook her head. "I only have three other hands, and they're all married. Two of them live in those little cabins out back. The third one has a place a few miles from here."

  "And where did Joe live?"

  "In the bunkhouse. He was a hard worker. I hated to lose him. But like I said, cowboys tend to move on down the road."

  Granted, Tyler hadn't conducted too many interviews, and he was probably missing some of the subtler nuances, but he would have to be deaf and blind to not know that something didn't add up. Maybe it was finding Desmond there, shacked up with the woman, or maybe it had more to do with the fact that he couldn't shake the feeling he was watching an actress rehearse her latest role. Ursula was playing Friendly Female Rancher for all she was worth, but it didn't quite ring true. It played more like Friendly Female Rancher as written by someone who'd never actually met one.

  Tyler was no expert on the role, but he was pretty damn sure that a woman who kept a place like this afloat, even with help, would have done more than her share of hard work and would show a fair amount of wear and tear. Ursula's skin was too smooth to have spent any time at all in the elements, she was too comfortable in clothes too expensive for the role, there wasn't one callus on her hands, and he doubted those long red fake nails would last long at all when working cattle or horses.

  "What about women?" Anna asked abruptly. She'd been coolly silent since her conversation with Desmond—which, coincidentally, had also felt like a play. Concerned Cousin and Nephew wasn't a role Desmond could pull off with great success, since his sincerity was as phony as Ursula's warmth.
r />   For whatever reason, the question momentarily stumped Ursula. She gave the princess a blank look, blinked slowly and asked, "What do you mean?"

  Anna shrugged. "Did he have a girlfriend? Was there anyone special in town? Did he date?"

  Good question. Lucas was a ladies' man. He probably hadn't been without female companionship for longer than a week or two since he turned sixteen. He loved women, and they loved him in return.

  Ursula's gaze flickered to Desmond—Why? Tyler wondered—then she gave a helpless little smile and shrug. "Not that I know of. He spent his working hours here, and most of his free hours, too. He rarely went into town."

  Truth or lie? If they accepted it as truth, they might miss any number of people who knew Lucas better than his boss. On the other hand, maybe he'd had no reason to go into town to look for companionship. Lucas had always had a special weakness for busty blondes, and Ursula obviously had had no qualms about jumping into the sack with Desmond. Presumably a woman got as lonely out here as a man did.

  "You don't know how much I wish I could tell you something that would help you locate Joe," Ursula said. "I do worry about him so. I considered him a good friend and I hate to think of him out there on his own and maybe in trouble somewhere."

  Once again she took Tyler's hand. Across the table, Anna's gaze narrowed, and on her right, so did Desmond's. Wisely Tyler pulled away from her and laced his fingers together. "You wouldn't mind if we talk to your other employees and have a look around the bunkhouse, would you?"

  Again her gaze went to Desmond before she answered. "Of course I wouldn't mind, except there's no one here to talk to today. I saw both hands and their wives drive off a few hours ago, and the third one left as soon as his work was done this morning. They were all going into the city for a rodeo, and they won't be back until late."

  "Oh. Well, how about the bunkhouse?"

  Her agreement came so quickly that Tyler knew there would be nothing to find. "Sure—though, of course, that was one of the first things I did after Joe left. Let me get the key for you."

  While she rummaged through a drawer, Anna returned to the living room to get their coats. About the time he finished zipping his, Ursula held up the key with a triumphant smile. "I hope you won't mind if I wait here," she said. "I'm recovering from a nasty flu, and I'm trying to avoid unnecessary time in the cold."

  "Want to come along, Desmond?" Tyler asked.

  The other man shook his head. "I believe I'll wait here as well."

  So the two of them could compare notes and share suggestions?

  Tyler took the key, then followed Anna outside. They'd made it halfway to the bunkhouse when she finally spoke. "Liars."

  His opinion exactly.

  "I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. Fortunately for her, if she landed on her front, she would bounce."

  Certain they were being watched from the kitchen window, Tyler used the unsure footing as an excuse to take her arm. "Oh, come on, Princess. Have you never wanted to be top-heavy or have your chest enter a room two minutes before you did?"

  She gave a haughty sniff. "Only a man could appreciate such excess."

  "Ursula apparently likes it."

  "She did it for the men who like it."

  He feigned surprise. "You mean, they're not real?"

  "About as real as Desmond's concern for my brother," she muttered as they carefully climbed the three steps to the bunkhouse door. As soon as they stepped inside and closed the door, the feeling of hostile gazes boring into Tyler's back passed.

  The bunkhouse consisted of one large room and a bathroom, and it was damn near as cold inside as it was out. It lived up to its name, with three rows of rickety bunks lined up along the walls, along with a wood-burning stove, three ancient army surplus trunks and a row of wall lockers. One corner of the room served as living space, with a sofa, a couple of chairs and a low table that had once held a TV, judging from the rabbit-ears antenna discarded on its dust-covered surface. Another table held a couple issues of outdated magazines, and that was it. All the contents of the room in seventy-five words or less.

  Only one of the six bunks was made, the one nearest the stove, with worn sheets and a couple of wool army blankets. The pillow was the only thing that wasn't way beyond its prime. He would guess it had been purchased relatively recently and hadn't seen much use. Because the bunk's intended occupant had been spending his nights elsewhere?

  While he checked out the magazines, Anna went to the sleeping area. She opened trunks and wall lockers, got down on her knees and looked under each of the three bunks, then began unmaking the bed. He left her to it while he went into the bathroom—small, drab and offering nothing but dust.

  "Tyler!"

  Quickly he returned to the main room, where he found her standing next to the torn-up bed, clutching a bit of blue something or other to her chest. When he approached, she offered it for his inspection. Her hands trembled, and her lashes were wet with tears. "Look, Tyler! It's Lucas's cap! I know it is—I've never seen another like it! See the logo? And the blue? We teased him that no one could ever miss seeing him coming when he wore this on the slopes. Oh, Tyler, Joe is my brother, and he was here, alive and well! He's alive, Tyler!"

  He took the ski cap from her and examined it. It was black, with a wide electric-blue band, and in the center of the band was a complex geometric shape using every blindingly bright color in the spectrum. He didn't doubt her identification for an instant. God knows, he'd spent more than his share of time on the slopes, and he'd never seen another like it.

  "Oh, Tyler…" Anna touched it tenderly. "For the past year, I've told myself that Lucas wasn't dead. I convinced myself that I would somehow feel it if he were. Even when the authorities seemed to be working as hard to take away our hope as we were to hold on to it, I knew he was alive. But…" Her voice softened to little more than a whisper. "There were times I doubted. I thought perhaps I simply wanted it to be true so desperately that I was refusing to accept the facts. I thought … maybe he was dead, and that explained why no one had ever seen him, why he'd never contacted us, why he was still missing after more than a year. But he's alive! My brother is out there somewhere alive, and we have to find him! We have to bring him home!"

  Clutching the cap, Tyler wrapped his arms around her, pre her head to his chest and stroked her hair. "We're gonna do that, Annie. I swear, we are. Now that we know for sure, king will put more men on the case and, I promise, we'll him."

  He held her a long time, until the trembling stopped and breathing calmed—held her and considered the next step in search. It had been simple enough before they'd come to Chambers ranch, and finding Desmond there had made it even simpler. But he hated it all the same.

  "So what do we do now?" she asked at last, her voice muffled against his jacket.

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, breathed deeply of all her scents, then put her away from him. Gently he dried the tears from her cheeks, then tucked a curl behind her ear before finding the courage to say, "Now we send you back to San Sebastian."

  "No! Tyler, you can't—"

  He gave her a look that stopped her protest before it got much of a start. "Do you trust me, Annie?"

  "With my heart and my life."

  "Then trust me on this, please." He seated her on the bunk that had belonged to her brother, nudged the mattress back into place, then sat down facing her. "I know he's family, but … I don't trust Desmond. His being here doesn't make sense. This search has been going on to some degree for more than a year. He's never been a part of it and never shown any interest in being part of it. Why now? Why all this sudden concern for Lucas now that it appears he's alive?"

  "They've never been close," she replied softly. "But Desmond is close to Papa, and has become even more so since Lucas's disappearance."

  Maybe, Tyler thought. Frankly, he found it difficult to imagine anyone developing a real closeness with Caruso. The man reminded him of a cold-blooded snake. He was too smo
oth, too charming, too … surface. If forced to venture a guess, he would say no one on Montebello truly knew Caruso, not even Lorenzo, his half brother and best friend.

  "Whatever's going on with Desmond, the bottom line is he shouldn't be here, and he damn well shouldn't be shacking up with Ursula Chambers."

  Despite her serious mood, Anna smiled faintly. "Shacking up? Is that what we've been doing these weeks past?"

  Heat filled Tyler's cheeks as he scowled. "No, it isn't. Well … sort of. But it's different between us." At the very least, she was fond of him, and as for him … hell, he loved her. Plain and simple.

  Maybe enough to give up his job and his best shot at earning his family's respect for her.

  Maybe even enough to risk finding out that she didn't love him.

  "So that's another of your English slang phrases that I shouldn't be wearing on a T-shirt, yes?"

  "Yes, Your Highness, it is," he said dryly. "Now stop trying to distract me. We were talking about sending you home."

  "But I don't want to go."

  "I want you to. I need you to."

  She gave a shake of her head that made her curls bounce. "I can help you. After all, it was I who thought to look under the mattress and subsequently found the cap."

  "Yes, you can help. And you can help most by going home … and asking, commanding or ordering Desmond to escort you there."

  He knew from her expression that she'd grasped his point immediately. If Caruso was accompanying her back to Montebello, he couldn't be here in Colorado doing whatever it was he'd come there to do. He couldn't scheme with Ursula or interfere with the search for Lucas in any way. Still, she made a halfhearted effort to be stubborn. "And what if he refuses?"

  "He can't refuse, and he knows it. All it would take is one phone call from you to your father, and the king would order him to do as you request. Frankly, I don't think he wants you making that phone call." For whatever reason, Caruso had lied to the king and everyone else about the purpose and the destination of his trip to the States—Tyler was certain of that. If anyone in the palace had known he was going to Colorado, his movements would have been tracked, merely as a matter of record, and Tyler would have been notified.