by Raye Morgan
She murmured something, hoping it sounded sympathetic, but there was a loud buzzing in her ears. Was she going to faint?
“Everyone knows what happens when you don’t pay off your loan in time to a member of the mob. They ruin your life or they break your legs.” His laugh was humorless. “My father was lucky. He still has his legs. He finally pulled together the resources from some old friends and came back, paid off the loan and eventually all was well. But it took him years to get back into shape as far as money went and it broke their health in the meantime. And so they finally gave up and went overseas to live.”
“Oh.” It sounded to her as if she were drowning, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was caught up in his story.
He looked at her and suddenly his hand slipped around her shoulders, pulling her in close. “I guess you know that in Ambria, the mob means the Gorgonios. Luckily, I recently heard that most of the family is in prison. Especially Max Gorgonio, the lousy bastard. I say don’t rest until you get them all behind bars.”
She could hardly breathe. Would he still want her if he knew she was one of them? She flailed about fruitlessly, trying to find a way to change the subject. Turning toward him, she was horrified and confused, and he took her emotion to be something very different. Softly, slowly, he kissed her lips, and she found herself curling in against his warm body, hungering for more, yearning for the strength and protection he could provide.
“Oh, Mykal,” she whispered so softly he couldn’t hear. “If you only knew…”
“Sorry,” he murmured as he pulled back. “There’s something about you that just calls to me.”
She searched his eyes. There was still no depth in his feeling for her. Still no memories. But his warm and wonderful kiss was a start.
She winced, remembering his family’s encounter with her notorious uncle. How she wished she could blot that out forever. The most hated crime family in Ambria, and it had to be hers.
It was tragic, really. The more she tried to distance herself from her background, the more it seemed to crop up all around her. She wasn’t a crook and she hated being associated with some really terrible people, people she was tied to by blood. But not by choice. Never that.
Suddenly she noticed that Mykal was getting more tired than she’d realized.
“I’ve got to sit down for a few minutes,” he told her, grimacing as he moved his leg. “Just give me a minute here.”
She helped him sit on the bed, then sat beside him. He took her hand in his and laced fingers.
“Kylos says he’s contacted our parents about my accident and they may be coming soon,” he told her, trying to take deep, cleansing breaths. “I told him to let them know I’d rather they stay put. They’re a little old to go rampaging around the world.” He shrugged. “And it’s probably just as well they aren’t here, considering what’s happening.”
She looked up, wary. “Do you mean…?”
He nodded. “This whole royal thing. I suppose you’ve heard about it. Everyone seems to know.” But he was frowning, searching her face.
She hesitated, wondering if she should pretend to know what the heck he was referring to. But she didn’t have a clue. Pretending would only give her more to trip over.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” she admitted at last.
He looked incredulous. “You really don’t know?”
She shook her head. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’ve been out of town on a field assignment,” she said carefully, trying not to put it in terms he would recognize from their undercover work. “I haven’t had time to pick up a paper or listen to the news for weeks.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’m as innocent as a newborn child. So tell me. Why are you so popular at the castle these days?”
“Interesting.” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a teasing smile. “I’m the one with amnesia, but I have to fill you in on what’s happening. You’re in worse shape than I am.”
“Oh, just tell me,” she said impatiently.
He shrugged. “It’s simple, really.” He gave her a teasing smile. “Do I look like a royal prince to you?”
She frowned. That was something she’d never thought of. “No.”
“Me neither. But people at the castle seem to think I do.”
“Ignore them,” she said. It was her instant reaction.
He laughed. “It’s tempting to do that. But someone at the castle has gotten it into their head that I’m one of the long-lost princes we always used to hear legends about. You know, the ones who disappeared the night the castle burned, during the rebellion that brought the Granvillis into power.”
She stared at him, stunned. “But…wait…”
He gave a short laugh. “Yes, that’s exactly what I said when they first told me.”
She shook her head. This was incredible. “That would mean…”
“That I was adopted by the parents who raised me.” He shrugged. “Yes, but I’ve known that for years.”
Her eyes widened. “So it is possible.”
“Yes. Possible. Not necessarily probable.”
Her head was spinning. Mykal, royal? That was just so crazy on so many levels. “And so…?”
“Blood samples have been taken. Physicians have been poring over my painfully crumpled body. Psychologists have been analyzing my poor puzzled brain.” His tone was world-weary and cynical. “Analysts have tried to trip me up and prove I’m lying.”
“About what?”
He shrugged. “Anything, mostly about when I was eight years old. What I called my mother. Where I hid when I was afraid my father was mad at me. The name of my first toy horse.”
She sat back, almost dazed. “Wow.”
He nodded. “Believe me, it’s been no bed of roses. This royalty gig is not for the faint of heart. They put you through the wringer.”
She stared at him. Royal. Could it really be true? An ache started deep in her heart. She knew what this was—a death knell for her marriage. Sure, she’d told herself it was all over many times in the last few weeks, but there had always been a small, pitiful hope in the furthest reaches of her soul. Now that hope was dying.
Royalty. That was a bridge too far for her to go. He had no idea, had never had a clue, just how far from royalty her family was. Neither one of them had thought twice about what sort of families they came from. They hadn’t given a thought to where they planned to go in life. There was a war on and they both had dangerous jobs. Love and passion were all they cared about. Nothing else mattered. They had to be together every possible moment, and when they weren’t, all their energy went into keeping their relationship a secret from their respective commanding officers. Any hint of a marriage would have had them both out on their ears.
Under normal circumstances they would have begun to ask each other questions in time. But they never got the chance. It was all over much too soon. When he’d walked in to their bedroom and found her going through his hidden papers…
She drew in a shuddering breath, pushing that awful memory away, and tried to keep calm. “And what are the results?”
He shook his head, wondering why she seemed so emotional about something that was only happening to him. He appreciated the concern, but it seemed a bit extreme. “Tests are ongoing.”
A lost Ambrian prince. Incredible. That changed everything.
CHAPTER FIVE
“WHY does this house seem so empty?”
Janis and Mykal were downstairs again, walking arm-in-arm through the kitchen into the foyer.
“Because the people have gone,” Mykal answered her. “All we’ve got left are the ghosts of lives gone by.”
As if on cue, the sound of provocative feminine laughter came at them from down the hallway and they both ca
me to a shocked standstill.
“Ghosts?” she whispered, glancing at him sideways.
He frowned. “I’m putting my money on flesh and blood in this case,” he muttered, starting for where the sound came from.
The evidence of someone having a good time seemed to be coming from the library. The feminine simpering had been joined by a deeper male voice, seemingly egging her on. As they reached the door, Mykal held out his arm.
“Stand back. You might not want to see this,” he warned.
She half laughed. “But you do?”
“It’s my duty,” he said with a wink. The door came open and the giggling came to an abrupt halt. All Janis could see over his shoulder was a flash of frilly skirt and Mykal’s brother’s angry face as he jumped up off the couch.
“Okay, Kylos,” Mykal said in his best authoritative voice. “You want to explain this?”
“What the hell, Mykal? You could knock on the door, you know.”
“And you could lock it if you plan some really heavy lovemaking here.”
“I…I…no, I…”
“Who is this lovely young lady?”
She was giggling again and now Janis could see her plainly. A little too blond and a little too old for Kylos, she was still pretty, but didn’t look too bright.
“This is our cook,” Kylos said angrily. “I hired her yesterday. I was just conferring with her. I have to do that, you know.”
Mykal was obviously holding back a hoot of laughter. “I suppose you do. I’d suggest she could probably understand your instruction better if you left her clothes on, though.”
The “cook” was giggling again. Mykal shook his head and gave up. “I hope she knows how to make a good lasagna,” he noted as he turned away. Janis hid her smile and followed him to the bedroom he was using. There were no more festive sounds coming from the library.
“I think you ruined their party spirit,” she said.
“I hope so,” he replied. Turning, he captured her for a moment, looking deep into her eyes. “Just wait. When I’m healthy, I’ll be chasing you around the place.”
“In your dreams.” But she was smiling. Despite everything, she loved him more than life itself.
She helped him get back into bed and she could see by the strain in his face that he’d probably overdone it. She wished he would listen and take it easy. She could see he was in pain again. If only he would listen.
Mykal tried to avoid wincing as his back cramped up. This was what the pain medication was for, but when he took it, he paid too high a price. He was going to try to tough it out. He needed his head clear so that he could think about what was about to happen to him. He wasn’t sure, at this stage, that he liked it.
He’d always considered himself a free spirit. Some had even called him untameable at one point in his life. And now he had a chance to be one of the royals? One of those people who drank tea with their pinkies sticking out? One of those miserable bastards who stood around in dress uniforms at boring luncheons? One of those sad sacks who followed daily schedules drawn up for them by weaselly assistants who insisted on rules being followed? That wasn’t the life for him. He would smother in that thick pea-soup sort of atmosphere. If that was what it was all about, better that he turn it down right away and save everybody a lot of time.
But he wasn’t sure yet. He needed some time, some space. He needed to think. Looking at Janis, he knew he needed something else, too, but as far as he could tell, he didn’t have a woman of his own. Once the pain faded a bit, maybe he could find one—maybe one who looked as good as this one sitting across from him. He grimaced, fighting back the thought. Messing around with employees was never a good idea.
Still, he enjoyed her sinuous movements and the way the two ribbons of her silvery-blond hair linked around her collarbone. Surely she had a man in her life. Some guy was lucky to have her.
That was what he needed, someone just like Janis. A woman who captivated the imagination as well as the libido. Someone with a soft, provocative touch and a sensual smolder. He had vague stirrings just thinking about it. He looked into her eyes.
“Ready for some medication?” she asked hopefully.
He smiled. “Why would I need medication when I have you?”
“Oh, brother.” She loved that he flirted with her, but she hated it, too—and that was a reaction she didn’t even want to begin analyzing.
She wished she could help him. If he knew she was his wife, would he let her do more? If she told him who she really was, could he stay calm? Should she go ahead and do it? That was the question that was torturing her.
He wouldn’t remember what had happened anyway. But if he knew they were married, that they had once been in love, then he might be able to accept her in the role of his wife and she could make these decisions for him, give him better support. But until she assumed that place in his life, how could she dare to even try?
She examined his bandages and brace and then looked back at him. He seemed so unprotected. And he was moving too much. Maybe he should take the medication. It had been a long time since the medics had given him that last dose. Yes. She made up her mind. She’d hesitated, mostly because of his brother being so strangely insistent. But now she knew it was necessary.
“I think it’s time you took something,” she said, trying to sound brisk and professional, rising from the couch. “It’s been over four hours. I’ll just go into the bathroom and…”
“No.” He said it with a finality that quite put an end to the matter. “I’m not going to take any more of that stuff. I want to clear my head and begin to live again.”
She drew her breath in, tottering between decisions. “But, if it was prescribed for you… It keeps you still and that is what we want.”
“If the pain gets too bad, I’ll let you know. I’m not a masochist. But for the first time in weeks my mind is clearing and I can think things through again. I no longer feel as though demons were flying around in my head.”
She sighed. “Sober is always better.” She admitted.
“Anything that’s an antibiotic or something I need directly in order to heal, I will gladly take. Medication just to keep me drowsy, or even just to deal with pain, I’d rather hold off on that until I really need it. I’ve been under heavy sedation too much lately. I don’t want to go there again.”
He was firm on this. She could tell he wasn’t going to budge an inch. Sighing, she sat down again.
“Then please, please just stay quiet,” she told him earnestly. “At least until you see the doctor tomorrow.”
He nodded, but he wasn’t all that convincing. She was having a hard time herself. The way they had been on their little expedition around the house had brought up memories of how they’d been when they were in love. And then to think that her family had caused his family such pain—that alone should make a relationship between the two of them a no-go at this point. It would never, never work again.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, needing to leave the room and looking for an excuse.
“A little.”
“You should eat something.” She frowned, thinking it was important even as a hedge against the very drugs he wanted to avoid. If Kylos came back and talked him into taking more medication, it would help if he had some food in his stomach. “Do you want me to warm up some more of that chicken soup?”
He shook his head, making a face.
“I know.” She brightened as she remembered. “I’ll go make you a cheese omelet. Your favorite.”
He looked at her in surprise. “How did you know that was my favorite?”
She stopped, stunned that she’d made a mistake like that. For just a moment, she couldn’t think of a thing to say and she stared at him, deer in the headlights.
“I…I didn�
�t,” she finally improvised. “But I assume eggs and cheese are bound to be in the refrigerator, even if nothing else is. So I thought I’d go with that.”
He was still frowning at her. She gave him a bright smile and left the room, leaning against the wall in the hallway once she was clear and trying to catch her breath. That had been a clumsy move. She was going to have to do better than that if she was going to survive this little adventure.
But wait. Just how long did she plan to let this masquerade go? She knew she couldn’t leave until someone else came to watch over him, but once that happened, was she going to leave at last? Shaking her head, she headed to the kitchen. She had no answer for her own questions.
She walked into the kitchen and looked around, hoping she wasn’t going to run into the so-called cook. She was lucky. There was no sign of anyone. But she was cooking the omelet when Kylos came in through the outer door. He immediately threw out his hands like a gunfighter showing he wasn’t near his guns.
“Hey, babe, I’m not going to scare you this time. So no fair trying to take me down, okay?”
“No problem,” she said as she flipped the perfectly cooked omelet onto a porcelain plate. “As long as you come in peace, I’ll be peaceful.”
“I just got back from taking the cook home.” He looked at the food appreciatively and sniffed the air. “Hey, can you make me one of those?”
She gave him a look. “Do you have shrapnel wounds all over your back?” she asked.
He looked pained. “You know the answer to that.”
“Then you know my answer as well.” But she said it loud and clear, just to be sure. “No.”
He took it calmly and sighed as she walked past with the plate in her hand. “Pity,” he muttered. “Hey, we need to talk.”
But she just kept going. Now that Mykal had told her about being adopted, she could see why the two of them were so different. Brothers in nurture, not in nature. But was Mykal really royal? Yikes.