A sexy royal gets an amnesiac surprise in this tale from USA TODAY bestselling author Merline Lovelace…
Undercover agent Dominic St. Sebastian never expected to be dubbed a duke. The resulting media frenzy puts his name in the headlines and his undercover career on hold. And it’s all the fault of his cousin’s dowdy research assistant Natalie Clark, who dug up the information…then showed up on Dom’s doorstep with a case of amnesia!
So why is Dom suddenly finding her so unforgettable? Could it be that Natalie isn’t what she seems? One thing’s certain: their undeniable magnetism is about to take them on a royally wild ride!
“That comes naturally to you, doesn’t it?”
“Rescuing damsels in distress?”
“No, that slow, sexy, let’s-get-naked grin.”
“Is that the message it sends?”
“Yes.”
“Is it working?”
She pursed her lips. “No.”
“Ah, drágám,” he said, laughter springing into his eyes, “every time you do that, I want to do this.”
She’d thought it would end there. One touch. One pass of his mouth over hers. It should have ended there. Traffic was coursing along the busy street, for pity’s sake. A streetcar clanged by. Yet Natalie didn’t move as his arm went around her waist, drawing her closer, while her pulse pounded in her veins.
She was breathing hard when Dominic lifted his head. So was he, she saw with intense relief. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever kissed a man on a public sidewalk in the middle of the afternoon before. She didn’t think so. Somehow it didn’t seem like something she would do. If she had, though, she hoped it hit him with the same impact it had her.
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Her Unforgettable Royal Lover is part of The Duchess Diaries series: Two royal granddaughters on their way to happily-ever-after!
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Dear Reader,
As a history buff, I’ve read extensively about the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. Also about one of that empire’s most tragic figures— Elisabeth Amalie Eugenie, Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary. Sisi, as she was known, lost her only son in a tragic murder-suicide pact. She herself was assassinated by an anarchist in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1898.
Recently, my husband and I seemed to be tracing Sisi’s footsteps in our travels. We visited the Hapsburg Palaces in Vienna and Budapest, her retreat in Corfu and many hunting lodges and grand hotels where she stayed. And the more I learned about this incredibly beautiful, charismatic woman, the more I wanted to craft a modern-day character along her royal lines.
Thus the Duchess Diaries—and Charlotte, the grand duchess of Karlenburgh—were born. I hope you’ve enjoyed Charlotte and the St. Sebastians as much as I have. Now settle back and prepare for fireworks as beautiful, brainy Dr. Zia St. Sebastian tangles with a very determined Texan.
Merline Lovelace
HER UNFORGETTABLE ROYAL LOVER
Merline Lovelace
Books by Merline Lovelace
Harlequin Desire
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The Paternity Promise #2163
ΩA Business Engagement #2256
ΩThe Diplomat’s Pregnant Bride #2274
ΩHer Unforgettable Royal Lover #2346
Silhouette Desire
*Devlin and the Deep Blue Sea #1726
ΔThe CEO’s Christmas Proposition #1905
ΔThe Duke’s New Year’s Resolution #1913
ΔThe Executive’s Valentine Seduction #1917
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*Strangers When We Meet #1660
*Double Deception #1667
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*Diamonds Can Be Deadly #1411
*Closer Encounters #1439
*Stranded with a Spy #1483
*Match Play #1500
*Undercover Wife #1531
*Seduced by the Operative #1589
*Risky Engagement #1613
*Danger in the Desert #1640
Harlequin Nocturne
Mind Games #37
**Time Raiders: The Protector #75
*Code Name: Danger
ΔHolidays Abroad
**Time Raiders
ΩDuchess Diaries
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
MERLINE LOVELACE
A career Air Force officer, Merline Lovelace served at bases all over the world. When she hung up her uniform for the last time she decided to combine her love of adventure with a flair for storytelling, basing many of her tales on her own experiences in uniform. Since then she’s produced more than ninety action-packed sizzlers, many of which have made the USA TODAY and Waldenbooks bestseller lists. Over eleven million copies of her books are available in some thirty countries.
When she’s not tied to her keyboard, Merline enjoys reading, chasing little white balls around the fairways of Oklahoma and traveling to new and exotic locales with her handsome husband, Al. Check her website at www.merlinelovelace.com or friend her on Facebook for news and information about her latest releases.
To Neta and Dave, friends, traveling buds and the source of all kinds of fodder for my books. Thanks for the info on research grants and nasty bugs, Neta!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Excerpt
Prologue
Who would have imagined my days would become this rich and full, and at such a late point in my life! My darling granddaughter Sarah and her husband, Dev, have skillfully blended marriage with their various enterprises, their charitable work and their travels to all parts of the world. Yet Sarah still finds time to involve me in the book she’s writing on lost treasures of the art world. My input has been limited, to be sure, but I’ve very much enjoyed being part of such an ambitious undertaking.
And Eugenia, my carefree, high-spirited Eugenia, has surprised herself by becoming the most amazing wife and mother. Her twins are very much like she was at that age. Bright-eyed and lively, with very distinct personalities. And best of all, her husband, Jack, is being considered for appointment as US Ambassador to the United Nations. If he’s confirmed, he and Gina and the babies would live only a few blocks away.
Until that happens, I have the company of my longtime friend and companion, Maria. And Anastazia, my lovely, so serious Anastazia. Zia’s in her second year of a residency in pediatric medicine and I played shamelessly on our somewhat tenuous kinship to convince her to live with me for the three-year program. She wears herself to the bone, poor dear, but Maria and I see that she eats well and gets at least some rest.
It’s her brother, Dominic, I fret about. Dom insists he’s not ready to settle down, and why should he with all the women who throw themselves at him? His job worries me, however. It’s too dangerous, too high-risk. I do wish he would quit working undercover, and may have found just the enticement to encourage him to do so. How surprised he’ll be when I tell him about the document Sarah’s clever research assistant has discovered!
From the diary of Charlotte,
Grand Duchess of Karlenburgh
One
August was slamming New York City when Dominic St. Sebastian climbed out of a cab ou
tside the castle-like Dakota. Heat waves danced like demented demons above the sidewalks. Across the street, moisture-starved leaves drifted like yellowed confetti from the trees in Central Park. Even the usual snarl of cabs and limos and sightseeing buses cruising the Upper West Side seemed lethargic and sluggish.
The same couldn’t be said for the Dakota’s doorman. As dignified as ever in his lightweight summer uniform, Jerome abandoned his desk to hold the door for the new arrival.
“Thanks,” Dom said with the faint accent that marked him as European despite the fact that English came as naturally to him as his native Hungarian. Shifting his carryall to his right hand, he clapped the older man’s shoulder with his left. “How’s the duchess?”
“As strong-willed as ever. She wouldn’t listen to the rest of us, but Zia finally convinced her to forego her daily constitutional during this blistering heat.”
Dom wasn’t surprised his sister had succeeded where others failed. Anastazia Amalia Julianna St. Sebastian combined the slashing cheekbones, exotic eyes and stunning beauty of a supermodel with the tenacity of a bulldog.
And now his beautiful, tenacious sister was living with Grand Duchess Charlotte. Zia and Dom had met their long-lost relative for the first time only last year and formed an instant bond. So close a bond that Charlotte had invited Zia to live at the Dakota during her pediatric residency at Mt. Sinai.
“Has my sister started her new rotation?” Dom asked while he and Jerome waited for the elevator.
He didn’t doubt the doorman would know. He had the inside track on most of the Dakota’s residents but kept a close eye on his list of favorites. Topping that list were Charlotte St. Sebastian and her two granddaughters, Sarah and Gina. Zia had recently been added to the select roster.
“She started last week,” Jerome advised. “She doesn’t say so, but I can see oncology is hard on her. Would be on anyone, diagnosing and treating all those sick children. And the hospital works the residents to the bone, which doesn’t help.” He shook his head, but brightened a moment later. “Zia wrangled this afternoon off, though, when she heard you were flying in. Oh, and Lady Eugenia is here, too. She arrived last night with the twins.”
“I haven’t seen Gina and the twins since the duchess’s birthday celebration. The girls must be, what? Six or seven months old now?”
“Eight.” Jerome’s seamed face folded into a grin. Like everyone else, he’d fallen hard for an identical pair of rosebud mouths, lake-blue eyes and heads topped with their mother’s spun-sugar, silvery-blond curls.
“Lady Eugenia says they’re crawling now,” he warned. “Better watch where you step and what you step in.”
“I will,” Dom promised with a grin.
As the elevator whisked him to the fifth floor, he remembered the twins as he’d last seen them. Cooing and blowing bubbles and waving dimpled fists, they’d already developed into world-class heartbreakers.
They’d since developed two powerful sets of lungs, Dom discovered when a flushed and flustered stranger yanked open the door.
“It’s about time! We’ve been…”
She stopped, blinking owlishly behind her glasses, while a chorus of wails rolled down the marble-tiled foyer.
“You’re not from Osterman’s,” she said accusingly.
“The deli? No, I’m not.”
“Then who…? Oh! You’re Zia’s brother.” Her nostrils quivered, as if she’d suddenly caught a whiff of something unpleasant. “The one who goes through women like a hot knife through butter.”
Dom hooked a brow but couldn’t dispute the charge. He enjoyed the company of women. Particularly the generously curved, pouty-lipped, out-for-a-good-time variety.
The one facing him now certainly didn’t fall into the first two of those categories. Not that he could see more than a suggestion of a figure inside her shapeless linen dress and boxy jacket. Her lips were anything but pouty, however. Pretty much straight-lined, as a matter of fact, with barely disguised disapproval.
“Igen,” Dom agreed lazily in his native Hungarian. “I’m Dominic. And you are?”
“Natalie,” she bit out, wincing as the howls behind her rose to high-pitched shrieks. “Natalie Clark. Come in, come in.”
Dom had spent almost seven years now as an Interpol agent. During that time, he’d helped take down his share of drug traffickers, black marketeers and the scum who sold young girls and boys to the highest bidders. Just last year he’d helped foil a kidnapping and murder plot against Gina’s husband right here in New York City. But the scene that greeted him as he paused at the entrance to the duchess’s elegant sitting room almost made him turn tail and run.
A frazzled Gina was struggling to hang on to a red-faced, furiously squirming infant in a frilly dress and a lacy headband with a big pink bow. Zia had her arms full with the second, equally enraged and similarly attired baby. The duchess sat straight-backed and scowling in regal disapproval, while the comfortably endowed Honduran who served as her housekeeper and companion stood at the entrance to the kitchen, her face screwed into a grimace as the twins howled their displeasure.
Thankfully, the duchess reached her limit before Dom was forced to beat a hasty retreat. Her eyes snapping, she gripped the ivory handle of her cane in a blue-veined, white-knuckled fist.
“Charlotte!” The cane thumped the floor. Once. Twice. “Amalia! You will kindly cease that noise at once.”
Dom didn’t know whether it was the loud banging or the imperious command that did the trick, but the howls cut off like a faucet and surprise leaped into four tear-drenched eyes. Blessed silence reigned except for the
babies’ gulping hiccups.
“Thank you,” the duchess said coolly. “Gina, why don’t you and Zia take the girls to the nursery? Maria will bring their bottles as soon as Osterman’s delivers the milk.”
“It should be here any moment, Duquesa.” Using her ample hips, the housekeeper backed through the swinging door to the kitchen. “I’ll get the bottles ready.”
Gina was headed for the hall leading to the bedrooms when she spotted her cousin four or five times removed. “Dom!” She blew him an air kiss. “I’ll talk to you when I get the girls down.”
“I, as well,” his sister said with a smile in her dark eyes.
He set down his carryall and crossed the elegant sitting room to kiss the duchess’s cheeks. Her paper-thin skin carried the faint scent of gardenias, and her eyes were cloudy with age but missed little. Including the wince he couldn’t quite hide when he straightened.
“Zia told me you’d been knifed. Again.”
“Just nicked a rib.”
“Yes, well, we need to talk about these nicked ribs and bullet wounds you collect with distressing frequency. But first, pour us a…” She broke off at the buzz of the doorbell. “That must be the delivery. Natalie, dear, would you sign for it and take the milk to Maria?”
“Of course.”
Dom watched the stranger head back to the foyer and turned to the duchess. “Who is she?”
“A research assistant Sarah hired to help with her book. Her name’s Natalie Clark and she’s part of what I want to talk to you about.”
Dominic knew Sarah, the duchess’s older granddaughter, had quit her job as an editor at a glossy fashion magazine when she married self-made billionaire Devon Hunter. He also knew Sarah had expanded on her degree in art history from the Sorbonne by hitting every museum within taxi distance when she accompanied Dev on his business trips around the world. That—and the fact that hundreds of years of art had been stripped off walls and pedestals when the Soviets overran the Duchy of Karlenburgh decades ago—had spurred Sarah to begin documenting what she learned about the lost treasures of the art world. It also prompted a major New York publisher to offer a fat, six-figure advance if she turned her notes into a book.
What Dom didn’t know was what Sarah’s book had to do with him, much less the female now making her way to the kitchen with an Osterman’s delivery sack in hand
. Sarah’s research assistant couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six but she dressed like a defrocked nun. Mousy-brown hair clipped at her neck. No makeup. Square glasses with thick lenses. Sensible flats and that shapeless linen dress.
When the kitchen door swung behind her, Dom had to ask. “How is this Natalie Clark involved in what you want to talk to me about?”
The duchess waived an airy hand. “Pour us a pálinka, and I’ll tell you.”
“Should you have brandy? Zia said in her last email that…”
“Pah! Your sister fusses more than Sarah and Gina combined.”
“With good reason, yes? She’s a doctor. She has a better understanding of your health issues.”
“Dominic.” The duchess leveled a steely stare. “I’ve told my granddaughters, I’ve told your sister, and I’ll tell you. The day I can’t handle an aperitif before dinner is the day you may bundle me off to a nursing home.”
“The day you can’t drink us all under the table, you mean.” Grinning, Dom went to the sideboard and lined up two cut-crystal snifters.
Ah, but he was a handsome devil, Charlotte thought with a sigh. Those dark, dangerous eyes. The slashing brows and glossy black hair. The lean, rangy body inherited from the wiry horsemen who’d swept down from the Steppes on their sturdy ponies and ravaged Europe. Magyar blood ran in his veins, as it did in hers, combined with but not erased by centuries of intermarriage among the royals of the once-great Austro-Hungarian Empire.
The Duchy of Karlenburgh had been part of that empire. A tiny part, to be sure, but one with a history that had stretched back for seven hundred years. It now existed only in dusty history books, and one of those books was about to change Dominic’s life. Hopefully for the better, although Charlotte doubted he would think so. Not at first. But with time…
She glanced up as the instigator of that change returned to the sitting room. “Ah, here you are, Natalie. We’re just about to have an aperitif. Will you join us?”
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