He led her to a room with a grouping of furniture much like an elegant den. The second she sat down on one of the couches, a steward appeared with a tray of drinks. She chose cola, then sat on the edge of the luxurious white upholstery unable to relax. Again she had the feeling she was existing in another state of consciousness.
He took a chair opposite her, the picture of urbane sophistication while he drank coffee.
“Why don’t we start by you telling me how you came by that ring.”
He’d come straight to the point, not appearing worried about the history behind it.
Her heart pounded so hard she was certain he could hear it in the confines of the room.
“My sister entrusted it to me.”
He put the coffee cup on a side table and leaned forward. “What’s her name?”
How strange to be talking about her sister, the woman he’d enamored to the point she would have done anything for him, and did.
“Melissa Collier. Does that mean anything to you?”
He eyed her with an enigmatic expression. “I’m sorry to say it doesn’t.”
His response came as no surprise to Darrell. After thirteen years, how many men in his position remembered the names of the girls they’d been with for a one-night stand? Particularly a rebellious yet vulnerable teen like Melissa. She’d probably made up a fake name so she wouldn’t get into trouble with the management where she worked.
He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, mesmerizing Darrell. “Why didn’t she come to Bris?”
Darrell drew in a shaky breath. “Because she died twelve years ago.”
Lines darkened his striking features. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, sounding surprisingly sincere.
“So am I.” Her voice faltered.
“How did she die?”
There’s your opening, Darrell.
Yet oddly enough she found herself unable to go on. No matter how long she’d prayed for this moment for Phillip’s sake, what the king was about to hear was going to change his life. She found she couldn’t do this to him. The shock would be too enormous to any man, let alone a king—What had she been thinking?
“It doesn’t really matter. All I know is, she wanted you to have the ring back because she knew it was valuable.”
“The ring has gotten my attention. Now I want to know what’s behind it.”
Darrell felt ill. “I—I made a mistake coming to Switzerland. Haven’t you ever made one?” she cried in panic. “Let me just get the ring for you and then you can go home and we’ll forget this ever happened. Please—”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt—”
She had to get out of there, but before she reached the doorway, he said, “The best way to hurt me is to make a scene in front of my staff. Why don’t you sit down and answer my question about your sister.”
Realizing he wouldn’t go away until he knew the truth, Darrell wiped her eyes and finally did his bidding.
“Two days after she gave birth to an eight-pound boy, a brain aneurism took her life.”
A pulsating silence filled the cabin.
His body didn’t move, but she saw a flicker in the depths of his eyes, turning them the green of a stormy ocean.
“Do you have pictures of them on you?”
She’d thought he’d deny it was his son, or at least question her outrageous suggestion that he might have been the father.
He did neither. Instead he’d responded in a forthright manner that astounded her.
“I have a packet in my wallet. The photo of Melissa is her junior year high school picture. The rest are pictures of my son taken on every birthday in case I ever found his father and he wanted to see them.”
One dark brow lifted. “Your son?”
“Yes. I adopted him.”
“You never married?”
“No.”
Her hands trembled as she opened her purse and pulled the packet from her wallet.
He got up and reached for it.
She held her breath while he stood there with his legs slightly apart, studying each photograph with an intensity that held her spellbound.
The likeness of his son to him couldn’t be disputed.
“What day was he born?”
“February 27. He’ll be thirteen on his next birthday.”
He examined the pictures for a long time. “What did you name him?” His voice revealed a husky quality that indicated he was deeply moved. Another surprise.
“When Melissa had an ultrasound and found out she was going to have a boy, she named him after you.”
His gaze shot to hers. “I have several names.”
Darrell’s mouth had gone dry. “I know. I saw the long list on the Internet. You told her you were Phil from New York. So Melissa called him Phillip.”
A haunted expression crossed over his features, making the thirty-three-year-old monarch appear older than he was.
“Now that I see her picture, I do remember visiting a dude ranch in Colorado Springs in June thirteen years ago. A college girl a little shorter than you with hair several shades darker than yours worked there.”
“Yes. That was Melissa. She was a room maid for the summer. Except that she wasn’t in college. She was only seventeen, and had another year of high school ahead of her.”
His lips thinned.
“Don’t worry,” Darrell murmured. “I’m sure she lied about her age. She looked older and couldn’t grow up fast enough. She said you’d both been drinking and got into a sleeping bag under the stars. That’s when you parted with the ring.
“Knowing Melissa, she probably begged you to let her put it on. Especially after you told her you were really a prince.
“I thought the whole story was bogus. But two weeks ago when I consulted a heraldry expert who identified your family’s coat of arms, I had to take it seriously.
“The Internet articles and pictures of you helped me with the rest. Not only was one of your names Phillip, I read that you were the prince of Bris before your coronation six years ago. Suddenly everything fell into place. But like all fairy tales, her glorious interlude with you came to a bitter end.
“When she reported for work the next day, you’d already disappeared without a trace. All she had of you was the ring. Before she died, she begged me to find you. After the funeral, I hid it away.”
His jaw hardened. Darrell could feel the tension emanating from him.
“How you must despise me.” His deep voice throbbed with self-abnegation. “Under the circumstances, why didn’t you tell the police what you’ve just told me? It was the perfect opportunity to expose me.”
Though she didn’t want to feel any compassion for him, there was something innately honorable about him owning up to his past behavior without offering excuses.
She hadn’t expected it of him. She hadn’t expected to have a positive feeling anywhere in her body for this