Jealousy gripped Garth. He wanted what the prince had, but had only met one woman he considered worth a lifetime commitment. She was so far out of his reach he’d need decompression time if he stayed around her for very long.
Not that he was going to, he assured himself. He would meet the prince, be whatever use the monarch thought he could be to his country, then get back to his own life before Serena worked her way any further under his skin.
Finding out that he’d been under surveillance by the palace had made him feel like the boy from the wrong side of the tracks all over again. He hadn’t felt this inadequate for a long time, and his instinctive response had been to bite back, Serena being the handiest target. He wouldn’t blame her if she wrote him off as a world-class jerk for the second time in their lives, he thought, watching her glide back to his truck. Her hips swayed sensuously and her long blond ponytail kept time. Police training hadn’t stopped her moving like a model, he noticed. He wondered if she still kissed like a dream.
Chapter 3
Although Garth had lived in Solano most of his life, he hadn’t set foot inside the castle grounds for years. Located on a promontory, the distinctive European-and Pacific-influenced building could be seen from every part of the city. Today the blue-and-jade Carramer flag flew above the battlements, indicating that the monarch was in residence.
Garth could have taken a tour of the public rooms anytime he wanted, but he considered the royals irrelevant to him and his day-to-day concerns. He couldn’t imagine what Prince Lorne could want with him. By rights Garth’s treatment by the navy should have soured him on serving his country. Maybe because he knew he had been wronged by one man rather than the whole service, it hadn’t. He was curious in spite of himself, although he wasn’t about to let Serena know it.
She broke into his thoughts. “Turn left here and pull up beside the sentry box.”
They were at a private entrance, he saw. Recognizing Serena, the soldier on duty came to attention and saluted but also took careful note of the ID she handed to him. When she introduced Garth, the soldier checked his details against a computer screen, then signaled to another sentry. In front of them a boom gate rose slowly, allowing them to pass.
As soon as Garth drove through, the gate lowered behind them. Ahead loomed the main castle surrounded by a cluster of smaller buildings in similar architectural style. More like a walled city than a single building. Below them, the capital was strung out jewel-like along a series of bays. The view from the upper levels of the palace must be really something.
He glanced at Serena. “Your soldier friend wasn’t keen to let me pass without you vouching for me. He probably thinks I’m a suspect you’re bringing in.”
She smiled. “Your fault for not wearing your black tie.”
It was probably the truck, he thought. The soldier looked as if he was more accustomed to waving limousines through than dusty pickups.
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.
Her comment startled him. He hadn’t meant to let it show. “Maybe a little.”
“Admit it, you like thumbing your nose at convention.”
He wasn’t ready to admit anything. “What makes you think so?”
“The diving gear you’re carrying around is worth a fortune, so you can obviously afford a better vehicle. My guess is, you like shocking people into accepting you as you are.”
“It’s as good a way as any to find out who your real friends are.”
Had she passed muster by agreeing to ride with him to the palace in his truck, she wondered? A glimmer of satisfaction greeted the thought. Maybe now he would stop regarding her as a hothouse flower. Not that she was going to let his opinion affect her. But like him, she disliked being judged on superficialities.
The staff had obviously been alerted to expect them. As soon as they reached the executive wing, they were shown to the prince’s office with none of the usual formalities, then left alone with him, also as apparently instructed.
Approaching the monarch’s desk, she was surprised when Garth came to attention and bent his head in deference. She was sure he didn’t bend his stiff neck to many people, so he obviously respected Prince Lorne.
She made a similar gesture. “Sir, may I present Garth Remy.”
The prince stood and offered his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting at such short notice, Garth.”
Garth shook the prince’s hand with a confidence that suggested he met reigning monarchs every day. “My pleasure, Your Highness. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m at your service.”
Lorne inclined his head in acceptance. “Greatly appreciated.” To Serena, he said, “The resemblance is indeed remarkable.”
Seeing the two men together, she had to agree. Garth was almost exactly the prince’s height. With their dark coloring and athletic build, they could be mistaken for brothers. Or be brothers. She caught her breath. Was it possible?
Garth looked as if he was absorbing the fact, as well. “You aren’t looking for a double, are you, sir?”
“You would certainly qualify, but no. Please sit down, both of you. I gather Serena hasn’t told you what this is about?”
“I’m assuming you don’t want me to take the American president diving while he’s in town, sir.”
As she seated herself beside Garth on a leather-covered couch, Serena hoped she didn’t look as stunned as she felt. Had Garth forgotten he was addressing the country’s ruler? Or had he specifically chosen not to use “Your Highness”? Lorne only chuckled. “Golf is more his game, but I might run the suggestion past his Secret Service.”
He moved to a chair set at right angles to the sofa and sat down, crossing one long leg over the other. “How much do you know about your family background, Garth?”
She felt rather than saw Garth tense as the line of questioning caught him off guard. “The usual. One mother, one father, both from Carramer, both recently deceased. No siblings.” He shot a sharp glance at Serena. “Should I know any more?”
“Perhaps.” Lorne reached across and lifted a package off his desk. Recognizing it, she braced herself as the prince offered it to Garth. “Serena intercepted this during her preparations for the president’s visit. Go ahead, take a look.”
Garth took the package and opened it. The cast of baby footprints and the birth certificate caused no reaction, until he came to the photos. Anger vibrated off him like an electrical charge. “How were these taken without my knowledge?”
“Not by anyone in royal service and not on my authority,” Lorne assured him. “More importantly, the photos and the other items clearly suggest that you could be the rightful heir to the Carramer throne.”
Not by so much as a muscle did Garth’s expression betray his shock, although his bearing became more rigid as he absorbed the monarch’s words. He looked like a man turned to stone, she thought, wishing she had been able to prepare him for this. Perhaps nothing could have done.
He exhaled heavily. “With respect, sir, that’s garbage and we both know it.”
At this Lorne’s mouth twitched, as if he understood that in any other company, Garth would have expressed himself in far more earthy terms. “I thought so, too, when Serena brought me the package. The source of the material forces me to consider the possibility.”
Hands