Code Name: Prince

by Valerie Parv

  His hands tightened around the wheel. “Your brother wasn’t the only one with an identity crisis, or a need to bend the world to his will.”

  “That’s quite a summing-up, considering you knew Shane so briefly, under such dreadful circumstances.”

  “In some ways, meeting him was like seeing myself when I was a teenager.”

  “But Shane was an orphan. He had no idea where he fitted in. But I suppose he never really grew up.”

  “There’s more than one kind of orphan.”

  She had difficulty imagining Ben as a rebel. “You’re saying you didn’t know where you fitted in, either?”

  “Having one parent who is a princess, up to her ears in royal duties, and another who’s navy-tough, and at sea most of the time, doesn’t make life easy. I spent more time with their staff than with my parents. At court I was ‘the navy brat,’ and around my father’s friends I was ‘the little prince.’”

  “So in the end, you didn’t know what you were.”

  He flashed her an icy look. “No need to sound so tragic. I wasn’t cold, I wasn’t hungry, and although I didn’t know it at the time, I was loved.”

  “But you were caught between two worlds, belonging in neither.”

  He nodded tautly. “No matter how I felt, I wasn’t entitled to hang out with the wrong crowd, or take stupid risks, not always the legal kind.”

  He had obviously straightened himself out somehow. “So what changed you?”

  “I was hauled home by the constabulary when my dad happened to be home on leave. He gave me a choice between following him into the navy or letting the law take care of me. Not surprisingly, I chose the navy.”

  “And found your spiritual home.”

  He shot her a wry grin. “Nothing so fancy or quick. During training I carried a chip the size of Edenbourg on my shoulder, until I met a man who not only thought he was tougher than me, he was. He taught me a thing or two about life, and my place in it. You’re about to meet him.”

  She frowned, not sure she was ready for the kind of closeness his announcement implied. This man, whoever he was, was obviously important to Ben still. “I thought you were taking us to a royal hideaway.”

  He gave her a look of satisfaction. “I am. Mine.”

  She barely had time to digest this before they rounded a final bend. Spread out before them was a fishing village that looked as if it hadn’t changed since the eighteenth century. Ancient stone houses with slate-tiled roofs crowded the rim of a long, narrow estuary where tall sailing ships rode at anchor on a ribbon of black water.

  She gasped in admiration. “It’s beautiful.”

  “According to local lore, Eden Cove was a thriving shipping port for centuries, until a fisherman caught what he thought was a seal at the estuary mouth. Instead he had captured a mermaid called Enid who cursed the estuary, promising many lives would be lost there. Unfortunately, many were. They came to grief on a sand bar known as the Doom Bar, said to have been conjured up by the mermaid’s father. It’s long been dredged clear, although the two headlands are still called Doom Bar and Enid’s Landing.”

  “Mermaids and curses, it sounds impossibly romantic.” Not a place she had any business being with Ben, she thought. “Are you sure this is necessary?”

  “Safer than going to the castle until I have more clues to the identity of Shane’s informer.”

  Molly’s eyes were as round as saucers as she took in all the new sights. “Sea girls, Mummy! Look at all the sea girls.”

  “Gulls, sweetheart,” Meagan corrected automatically, wishing she shared Molly’s innocent excitement. She felt apprehensive, wondering what she had agreed to by allowing Ben to bring them here. It was obviously special to him, and the man he had hinted she would meet was important in his life. She hadn’t planned on getting that involved with him.

  Involved? She almost laughed aloud. Did she have a choice? When Shane came around, he would be after Ben’s blood. Hers too, now that she had made her allegiance clear. The thought of what he might do to Molly made her blood run cold. Unconsciously she moved closer to Ben, reassured by his closeness. She might find his macho attitude offputting, but he inspired her confidence and trust.

  From the moment she first saw him, she had been drawn to him by forces beyond her control. The pull was more than physical, although there was enough of that to swamp her defenses. There was also courage, compassion and a heart the size of the castle. He had willingly put his life at risk for king and country, and now he was doing it for her and Molly.

  A tidal wave of longing raged through Meagan, as potent as it was futile. For the first time, she understood Shane’s craving to be other than who he was. She felt it now, knowing Ben was the cause. But as long as he insisted that she play the lesser role of “little woman” they wouldn’t get anywhere.

  “We’re here.”

  The tall house on the rim of the bay was ancient, cared-for and unmistakably Ben’s. His touch was in every room he showed her, not only in the collection of old sailing artifacts that adorned the walls, but in the order she saw everywhere.

  “Now I know what’s meant by shipshape,” she said. A good-looking woman in her fifties emerged from the kitchen, wiping floury hands on an apron. Meagan gave an involuntary start.

  Ben dropped an arm around her shoulders. “Relax, it’s only my housekeeper.”

  “I’m Hannah Gordon, ma’am. Lieutenant Lockhart called to let me know you were on the way. Everything’s ready for you.”

  So that’s who Ben had called soon after leaving the cottage. They had stopped to allow Meagan to buy a few things Molly needed. Ben had no money on him, and couldn’t risk going to the bank for fear of leaving a paper trail that tipped the conspirators off as to their whereabouts. Fortunately, Meagan had recently been paid in cash for a dressmaking job, and hadn’t had a chance to go to the bank herself. The extra spending wouldn’t help her budget, but she had no alternative.

  She shook the housekeeper’s hand. “I’m Meagan Moore. This is my daughter, Molly.”

  Hannah turned to Molly. “How old are you, sweetheart?”

  Molly held up three fingers. Hannah looked at the rag doll clutched in Molly’s arms. “Such a big girl. Probably too big for all the Raggedy-May and Strawbie stories I happen to know.”

  Molly’s small face puckered. “I’m not too big, am I, Mummy?”

  “Definitely not.” Molly’s answering smile tugged at Meagan’s heartstrings. She blessed Ben silently for his choice of housekeeper. This situation was tough enough on her child. Anyone who made things easier for Molly had Meagan’s heartfelt gratitude.

  Hannah broke into her thoughts. “I’ll show you to your rooms so you can rest.”

  “Molly needs a nap, but I’m fine.” Meagan was too edgy to think of resting. It was all she could do not to keep looking over her shoulder. Ben had assured her they were safe, choosing a roundabout route and doubling back several times to thwart any attempt at pursuit. Nevertheless Meagan’s nerves felt stretched almost to the breaking point.

  “Would you prefer to take a walk?” Ben asked, noticing her restlessness.

  She looked at Molly. “Is it safe?”

  “The house may be old but the security system is state-of-the-art. Molly will be fine with Hannah, and you’ll be with me.”

  Meagan felt a blush starting and willed it away. She would not read anything into his assurance, tempting though it was. “Then I’d like to walk.”

  While Hannah hovered nearby, Meagan tucked Molly up in bed with her rag doll, in a delightful attic room under the eaves of the old house. The little girl smiled sleepily. “Raggedy-May likes it here.”

  The doll wasn’t the only one, Meagan thought. She hadn’t known how much she’d been living on her nerves the last few days, until she’d stopped. “I like it here, too,” she whispered as she kissed Molly.

  “Can we stay?”

  “For a little while.” Forever, argued Meagan’s heart. She felt herself sinkin
g again. “Look after Hannah.”

  Molly giggled. “No, Mummy. She’s going to look after me.”

  Who would look after her? Meagan wondered as she set off with Ben. It felt odd to be taken under his wing, but comforting. Too comforting. She had a constant battle to remember that she was with him only for protection. As soon as he could contact the castle without alerting Shane’s informer, Ben would make other arrangements for her and Molly and return to his own life.

  She was aware that Ben was trying to put her at ease by explaining the town’s history and pointing out landmarks. But she jumped at every sudden noise and after a short time, he pulled her into the shadow of a building. “Relax, no harm will come to you here.”

  “Unless Shane’s people find us.”

  “They won’t. But if it will make you feel better, we’ll get out of sight.”

  She had expected him to take her back to his house, but he brought her to the dock and helped her to board a square-rigged sailing vessel riding at anchor there.

  “Welcome aboard Pathfinder,” he said, “the navy’s sailing-training vessel.”

  The ship was deserted for now, but with her back to the cove she could feel transported to the eighteenth century when the deck would have swarmed with brigands and pirates. “It’s very impressive. Did you train aboard here?”

  “I wouldn’t let His Highness near the rigging,” boomed a gravelly voice.

  A pulse leaped in her throat, but when she spun around, she found a uniformed man bearing down on them. He was almost as wide as he was tall. Ben stepped between them. “This is Captain Mike Stafford, master of Pathfinder. Mike, my guest, Meagan Moore.”

  The captain looked intrigued. “Consider yourself flattered. Ben doesn’t bring many ladies aboard this ship.”

  She felt herself redden, annoyed to find she was pleased. “I hope you don’t mind me coming aboard.”

  “Feel free to look around. I’ll be in the great cabin if you need me.”

  “Great cabin?” she asked Ben after the captain had gone below.

  “A kind of captain’s office and mess in one.”

  “I see.”

  She felt awkward suddenly, out of place. Ben, on the other hand, looked at home riding the shifting deck with the ease of long experience. He didn’t even notice he was doing it, so at home was he in the masculine environment. She felt the gulf between them widen. “Why have a replica seventeenth-century ship in a modern navy?” she asked.

  “Nothing gives you more of a sense of oneness with the sea than making passage under sail,” Ben explained. “As well as seamanship, the cadets and the civilian teenagers who train aboard her gain skills, confidence and self-esteem.”

  She thought of what he had told her about his own teenage years. “All the qualities you had to learn the hard way.”

  “My father thought it was the best way, but it isn’t.”

  “No, it isn’t.” She had also learned her lessons through bitter experience, and wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. “Mike seems nice under all that gruffness.”

  “He’d be disappointed you spotted it, but you’re right.”

  The warmth in his voice alerted her. “He’s the former commanding officer you talked about.”

  Ben nodded. “Retired now. This is a voluntary post, but I’d like to see anyone try and take it away from him.”

  “The trainees are very lucky.”

  “Would you like to see below?”

  Since the alternative was to remain above decks, where she felt uncomfortably vulnerable, she nodded agreement. She regretted it when she found how often he had to help her down ladders—companionways, as he called them—every touch of skin to skin searing her like a brand. It was difficult to concentrate as he showed her through a maze of cabins, reeling off names like sailroom, chartroom, and firehearth, till they reached the crew’s mess deck.

  Dodging swinging hammocks, she protested, “Time out, please. All this climbing is exhausting.” Not to mention the strain of keeping her response to him in check.

  He guided her to a hammock and steadied it while she sat on the edge, her feet barely touching the deck. “You can rest for a moment here.”

  She wriggled her feet free of her shoes. “Eden Cove is one of the kingdom’s best-kept secrets.”

  “Exactly why I made a home here.”

  “Home,” she mused. “I’ve never really known where home is for me.”

  “You have your cottage.”

  She had loved it because it was hers, but knew she would never feel the same way about it again after all that had happened there. “I may not stay,” she said, knowing she wouldn’t.

  “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know. It scares me a little.” It scared her a lot, but pride stopped her from telling him so.

  “You could have a place at the castle,” he said carefully. “My aunt has been looking for someone as skilled with a needle as you appear to be.”

  Being offered a royal appointment would be the answer to a prayer, but it would also mean never being free of Ben. She would be on the sidelines when he visited his family, hearing the gossip when he came to seek the queen’s blessing for his marriage. Perhaps she would be expected to sew for the wedding party. A lump filled her throat. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you refusing to consider it on my account?”

  Her wide-eyed gaze flew to his face. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you feel it, too.”

  She shook her head in violent denial. “There’s nothing to feel.” Nothing she would allow herself as long as he treated her like a hothouse flower instead of an equal.

  He looked savage. “Then explain why you tremble when I touch you? Not with fear. When I look into your eyes, I see the same primitive need that’s ripping me to shreds. We have to do something about it.”

  She knew what the something would be. They would make love, then their different beliefs would drive them apart. “I’ve told you I can’t.”

  “Because of Molly’s father.” It wasn’t a question. “You’d deny what’s between us because of loyalty to a man who’d leave you for another?”

  Anger drove her to her feet but she didn’t allow for the unpredictable movement of the hammock. She would have tumbled backward, but for Ben’s lightning reflexes.

  As his hands clamped around her she twisted in his grasp, confused between anger and a burgeoning sense of pleasure so hot and sweet that she felt ashamed of herself for feeling it. “Molly’s father didn’t leave me for anyone else. He was already married. I just didn’t know it. Let me go.”

  “Not until you see sense. You can’t waste your life waiting for a man who isn’t worthy of your love.”

  “Love doesn’t come into it.” Not the way it kept doing with Ben.

  He frowned. “You don’t love him. You don’t care that he was married. What’s going on, Meagan?”

  “Nothing you would understand.”

  “I’m beginning to. He hurt you, didn’t he? That’s why you’re fighting me so hard. You’re afraid it will happen again.”

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t let it.” Her voice came out as a strained whisper.

  He brushed the hair back from her face. “And now?”

  “Now I can’t seem to stop it.”

  “You don’t have to. All you have to do is accept it.”

  If she did, she was lost. “You make it sound simple.” It probably was, for him. “It isn’t so easy for me.”

  “Because?”

  “You aren’t offering me forever, any more than Kevan did.”

  His gaze smoldered. “We both know there’s no such thing as forever. It’s no reason to lump me in with a heartless brute who could give you his child then abandon you.” His hold tightened as he voiced a sudden suspicion. “Is he threatening you to keep your loyalty?”

  “He isn’t threatening me. He isn’t around anymore,” she said, wishing she could tell Ben the truth, that Kevan had left for good
soon after Molly was conceived. But it would make her even more vulnerable to Ben himself.

  “Yet you still love him. Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me. I need to know how you can still love him, yet respond so to me.”

  Denial was the only defense she had left. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I wrong about your reaction when I touch you? When I do this?” His mouth crushed hers, merciless in demanding a response from her. She couldn’t withhold it any more than she could stop herself from returning the pressure, as greedy as she was to taste him, to feel the pressure of flesh against flesh, heat meeting heat.

  The cabin tilted around her as he lowered her into the hammock, dropping to one knee beside her to caress and explore. The hammock’s motion made her feel disoriented, free-floating, as if she was suspended in time and space. Unable to stop herself, she returned his kisses with all the passion at her command, drawing dizzying lungfuls of air as he undid the top button of her shirt and stroked the warm fullness within.

  Tearing himself away from her, he closed the cabin door then came back to her side. “Great oceans, Meagan. Do you know what you do to me?”

  Exactly what he did to her, she suspected. He made her want the moon and the stars, and worse, made them seem within her grasp. It wasn’t true, but she couldn’t bring herself to end this, not yet. Having his mouth on hers and his body heat searing through her was too intoxicating.

  She slid her hands under his shirt, wanting to touch, to know everything. Beautiful, hard-muscled chest, the corrugation of ribs, the palm-teasing abrasiveness of male hair and skin, lower and lower until she heard his breath catch.

  She had become so lost in exploring that she hadn’t thought ahead. Quickly she pulled her hands away. But he took them in his, kissed her fingertips and placed them low on his ribs again. “You know I want you.”

  Her hands stilled as fear gripped her. “I want you too, but…”

  His finger against her lips silenced her. “No buts. I’m not Kevan.”

  He couldn’t be. Kevan had taken what he wanted by fair means or otherwise. Ben would never manipulate her to get his own way. Even now with desire carving lines of strain into his face, he was waiting for her. “I know.”