A Royal Baby on the Way

It was a familiar argument. Enough of one that Mitch allowed himself to be distracted by faint noises coming from the back of the house. He hadn’t seen much of his guest since her security team had reluctantly cleared both him and his employees. They’d driven off only a short time ago, and that was after leaving him with pages of written instructions, phone numbers to call in case of emergency and a cell phone that connected automatically with the FBI.

He knew he was going to regret letting Princess Alexandra of Wynborough stay with him, and not just because she was going to be a pain in the butt. He was going to regret it because she was the first woman in a long time who tempted him. He couldn’t help staring at her body and wondering what it would feel like next to and under his. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and lick her and—

‘‘Mitch, are you listening?’’

His mother’s voice broke through his erotic daydream.

‘‘I’m here, Mom.’’

‘‘Is everything all right?’’

He’d decided not to mention his guest to his parents. His mom would get way too excited about royalty, and his dad would figure it was a cover for a hot romance and start talking about grandkids. ‘‘Everything’s fine. Have you heard from John?’’

There was a brief pause. He knew both his folks would be momentarily sad at the thought of their youngest son. They never understood his need to roam, although they respected it and always welcomed him home. ‘‘Not in a few weeks.’’

‘‘Me, either. I’ve just been thinking about him. If he calls you, will you ask him to phone me?’’

‘‘Of course, dear.’’

They chatted for a few more minutes, then Mitch heard the beep of his call-waiting. ‘‘I have another call.’’

‘‘Go ahead and take it,’’ his father said. ‘‘We were about to say goodbye. We love you, son.’’

‘‘I love you, too. Bye.’’ He pushed the Flash button and connected the waiting call. ‘‘Hello?’’

‘‘Mitch Colton?’’ an unfamiliar male voice asked.

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘This is Andrew Morgan from the State Department. I’m calling to thank you for extending your hospitality to Princess Alexandra. Our nation has a long and cordial history with her country. After the unfortunate loss of their son, the king and queen choose not to visit us. We were deeply disturbed by this. Fortunately, the visit of the princesses allows us an opportunity to make some kind of amends for what happened before. Your nation is very grateful for your cooperation in this matter.’’

Mitch held the phone in front of him for a second and stared at it disbelievingly before returning it to his ear. This wasn’t really happening to him, was it?

‘‘Mr. Colton?’’

‘‘Yeah, I’m here. I’m happy to help.’’

‘‘Good. I have a special phone number for you. Please call with any problems or special requests.’’ The man went on to talk about the importance of making the princess’s stay a pleasant one, that FBI security would be instantly available in the event of something going wrong and would Mitch like some information from the Protocol department on how to interact with royalty.

‘‘I think we’re doing fine on that one,’’ he said dryly.

‘‘As you wish,’’ Mr. Morgan said. ‘‘If you change your mind, you can reach me at the number I gave you. When all this is finished, the government would like to show its gratitude in the form of an invitation to the White House. Perhaps your parents would like to attend with you.’’

Mitch would have preferred a cut in his property taxes for the year, but he doubted Andrew wanted to hear that. ‘‘Thanks. I’m sure that will be very nice.’’

‘‘Call me if you have any questions. And again, Mr. Colton, thank you from a grateful nation.’’

There was a click and then silence. Mitch hung up and swore. Yup, just like he’d thought. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Chapter Three (#ulink_0785a419-3d1f-5731-8ba0-c51aa8984fe0)

‘‘Are you all right?’’

Mitch glanced up and saw that Alex had walked into the living room. She still wore the toast-colored knit dress that clung to her curves in a way that was decidedly unroyal—at least in his masculine opinion. Not that he was going to complain. If he had to have a princess in his house, at least he’d gotten a beautiful one.

‘‘The State Department just phoned,’’ he said. ‘‘They wanted to make sure I planned to extend every courtesy to the representative of an important country, or something like that.’’

She didn’t even have the decency to look surprised. Instead she nodded seriously. ‘‘I forgot to mention that they would be in touch. It’s more of a formality than anything. I wouldn’t worry about it.’’

‘‘I hadn’t planned to.’’ He stared at her, taking in the blue eyes and the cascade of auburn curls. Deep inside, the flame of need roared into a full-fledged wildfire. Just his luck. The first woman to get his attention in several years turned out to be about as unapproachable as a nun. ‘‘You really are a princess,’’ he grumbled. ‘‘So what am I supposed to do with you?’’

She gave a soft laugh that threatened his composure. ‘‘You could invite me to sit down.’’

Only then did he realize she was standing. ‘‘Sorry.’’ He waved at the sofa, then leaned forward in his chair. ‘‘Look, Alex, if you’re going to be staying here, you’re going to have to just go ahead and do what you want. If you’re planning on waiting for me to ask you if you want a drink or something to eat, you’re going to starve. I spend most of my days out with the cattle and my evenings working on the books. I don’t have much company, certainly not your kind.’’

‘‘I appreciate the warning. I promise to take care of food and water for myself.’’

‘‘Except for Sunday, you won’t have to worry about food. Betty will be here in the morning and she’s going to be thrilled to have someone else to cook for.’’

‘‘Are you sure I won’t be in the way? I don’t want to be a bother.’’

‘‘You won’t be,’’ he told her, answering the question in the context she’d intended. After all, she bothered him plenty, but that was his problem and he would solve it all on his own. Her stay was very temporary. When she was gone, he was going to have to force himself to start dating again. Obviously he’d been spending way too much time alone.

‘‘I spoke to my parents,’’ he said. ‘‘I didn’t tell them about you being here, but I did ask them to have John call me if he got in touch with them.’’

‘‘That’s wonderful. Thank you.’’ She tilted her head. ‘‘Why didn’t you say anything about me?’’

‘‘For one thing, I hadn’t talked to you about it. I figured you’d want to keep your presence here as quiet as possible. For another, they wouldn’t understand.’’

She wrinkled her nose slightly. ‘‘Because I’m a princess?’’

‘‘Because you’re a woman.’’

She raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn’t respond to his statement. The lamplight caught on the curls on the top of her head and gave them a goldish glow. Again he saw that she had the most perfect skin and long, slender hands. She moved those hands now to open a folder that he hadn’t noticed until just that moment. Inside were more than a dozen sheets of paper.

‘‘There are a couple of items I would like to discuss,’’ she said. ‘‘As I mentioned earlier, my parents don’t know the real reason my sisters and I are in this country. They think we’re here doing publicity for my father’s celebration.’’ She looked up and gave him a quick smile. ‘‘We are doing that, as well, but our real purpose is to find out information about our brother.’’

‘‘You’re not going to get much publicity out here,’’ he said. Then an ugly thought occurred to him. ‘‘You’re not planning on inviting the press to the ranch, are you? I don’t want things disrupted more than they have to be.’’

‘‘Of course not, Mitch. No press, not even an interview. We arranged the schedule so each of us would have some free time to work on the investigation. I have to attend a charity fund-raiser in Los Angeles in a few weeks, but other than that my calendar is clear until after the first of the year.’’

‘‘You’ve thought it all out.’’

‘‘I hope so. This is important to us.’’

She continued to talk about her plans, but Mitch found himself distracted by the thought of what she was doing. While he believed the story about her brother, in his mind the odds that the kid had survived seemed slim. Did she really think that John might be the long-lost heir to a kingdom? Mitch shook his head. Not John. No way. He was a drifter, someone who had, despite the family’s best efforts, never fit in. If he was Alex’s brother, wouldn’t he behave royally or something?

‘‘I’ve already made arrangements for the extra phone lines,’’ Alex was saying.