Romancing the Crown Series

by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)

  "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently. "If I'd known you were pregnant..."

  "You would have done what?" She took another step back and lifted her chin. "Would you have jeopardized your future with the SEALs before your first training mission so you could come running to my side? We'd already been through the reasons we wanted to say goodbye. You had put off your dreams for too long and you were finally going to have your freedom. My pregnancy wasn't your concern."

  "My God, Kate. How can you say that? What kind of man do you think I am? I wouldn't have turned my back on you. I would have taken responsibility."

  "And what would that have meant?"

  He didn't even have to think about the answer. It came full blown into his mind. "We would have been married."

  "Married?" She tightened her belt. "Our relationship was about sex, remember? Simple, no-strings sex."

  "Well, yes, but—"

  "And you still haven't changed your mind about that, have you? You came here this morning because you wanted more of the same. What was it you said? Getting together when we were on leave? Having fun? That's no way to raise a child."

  "Kate, you're not being fair. A baby would have changed everything."

  "Getting married only for the sake of a child leads to disaster. That's what my parents did, and I know firsthand it doesn't work. I would have raised my child alone and given him enough love for two parents instead of making everyone miserable by forcing an instant family on a man who hadn't planned to settle down."

  Her words struck a chord in his memory. He thought back to their conversation at the palace when the royal family had been celebrating baby Luke's homecoming. Kate had said the same thing then when they'd been talking about the prince and Jessica.

  Only they hadn't really been talking about the prince and Jessica, had they?

  Other snippets of memory started to click in his mind, small unexplained comments, odd reactions. Now that he knew the truth, he saw them from a whole new perspective.

  "You weren't ever going to tell me," he said, realization slowly dawning. "If you hadn't lost the baby, you wouldn't have told me I was a father."

  "It's what would have been best for everyone. I was fully prepared to give up my career in the Navy if I had to so I could provide my child a stable home."

  He looked at the way she lifted her chin—damn, he was starting to hate that gesture. He could see her pain, but she didn't want his comfort. She didn't want anything from him. While he'd carried her in his heart for five years, she'd already judged and condemned him. Kate. His Kate.

  Only she wasn't his Kate any longer, was she? Maybe she never had been. He must have deluded himself by idealizing her memory. The Kate he'd thought he'd known never would have... betrayed him like this.

  Yes, betrayed. That's how he felt. Conceiving a child was the most intimate of acts, but she had dismissed his part in it.

  "You would have raised our son by yourself," he said. "You would have kept me from my child."

  "You weren't ready to settle down. You still aren't."

  "That's not fair. You judged me without giving me a chance."

  "I wasn't willing to gamble my baby's future."

  "He was my baby, too. You had no right—"

  "How dare you say that? I'm the one who would have given up her dreams and turned her life upside-down for a child that wasn't planned. I'm the one who felt the butterfly kicks from a baby in my belly. I'm the one who left a trail of blood from the taxi to the operating room floor while you were off on an adventure in the Pacific somewhere, so don't you tell me about rights."

  Despite his growing resentment, he reached for her. "Oh, Kate."

  She batted his hand away and strode past him to the small table where he'd laid out their breakfast. She snatched his backpack from the floor. "I want you to leave now, Sam." "Kate..."

  She threw the pack at him and pointed at the door. "Get out."

  He caught the pack by one strap. "Why are you angry at me for something I didn't have any say in?" "You put the baby in me, Sam. It didn't get there by itself."

  "That's my point. I was his father. The choice of whether or not to tell me wasn't yours to make." "It was the right choice, damn it." "If you're so sure it was the right choice, Kate, then why do you still have nightmares?"

  * * *

  The flag in the center of the square snapped in a sudden gust. Kate glanced at the sky as she hurried toward the north building and the office that housed the command center. Clouds covered the sun, smothering its warmth, turning the morning to dull slate. The seagulls that rode the air currents over the base were more numerous than usual today. Their cries sounded like mocking laughter.

  The bleak weather suited Kate's mood. So did the birds.

  Whoever said that the truth would set you free? It didn't. It sucked you down into a tangle of questions that were better left buried. What on earth had she been expecting when she told Sam about the baby?

  She'd hoped for understanding. She'd feared condemnation. She hadn't anticipated seeing his joy.

  His reaction had been so swift, there was no doubt in her mind that it was real. His eyes had glowed with the news that he'd fathered a child. And his grief when he realized the child hadn't lived was as genuine as her own. Had she underestimated him? Had she misjudged him? What if she'd told him earlier? He'd said he would have married her. Could it have worked? Could he have grown to love her?

  A gull screamed a series of grating jeers. Kate winced.

  They were useless questions. Pointless thoughts. Love hadn't even been mentioned. And if the look on Sam's face when he'd left had been any indication, the topic of love wasn't likely to come up.

  Why had she lost her temper with him? Was it really him she was angry with, or herself?

  Or was she angry with the whole twisted situation? She'd spent a week and a half pushing him away. Now that she considered letting him get close to her again, she'd succeeded in driving him even further away.

  But that's what she'd wanted in the first place, wasn't it?

  Yes. No. Damn.

  She reached the entrance to the north building and grasped the handle of the door, only to have it wrenched out of her hand as it was pushed open. She sidestepped quickly, barely avoiding a collision with the man who was coming out.

  He caught her arms to steady her. "Sorry. I—" He paused. "Hello, Kate."

  Of course, the first person she saw would have to be him. Give the seagulls something else to laugh at. She looked at the place where he touched her, fighting a sudden urge to fall into his embrace.

  But she and Sam were no longer in her bedroom. They were in public, in full view of every building that ringed the square and every sailor who crossed it. "Sam."

  "I wasn't sure you were coming in today."

  "Why?"

  "You were upset when I left you."

  "I got over it."

  "Kate..."

  "We still have a mission to complete, Sam."

  He dropped his hands and stepped back.

  Oh, God, she hadn't meant to say it that way. But doing her duty was how she coped. It's what had forced her to get out of bed and get dressed on those dark days after the miscarriage and it was what filled her life now.

  She moved her gaze to Sam's face. His expression was shuttered. He didn't look like the same man who had brought breakfast and a rose to her quarters and who had greeted her with kisses mere hours ago. There was a distance between them. It was brittle and wary. It made her feel as if something precious had been broken.

  She had hurt him, she realized. She'd carried her secret for so long by herself and she'd been so wrapped up in her own pain, she hadn't considered the pain he would feel when he learned the truth. "Sam..."

  "You're right. We do have a mission to complete." He moved aside to give room to a pair of enlisted men who emerged from the building before he continued. "We got a call from the base hospital a few minutes ago."

  "The hospital?"
>
  "Petty Officer Thurlow was brought in this morning. That's where I'm heading. Excuse me," he said, starting off in that direction.

  It took a moment for Kate to switch mental gears. She hurried to catch up to Sam. "Thurlow?" she asked when she reached his side. "He's captaining a fishing boat in Sector C, right?"

  "Yes."

  "What happened? Was there an accident?"

  "It appears he was mugged. He was found in an alley. His watch and his money were gone."

  "How bad is he?"

  "He has a head wound and hasn't regained consciousness. The medics figure he has a concussion."

  "The crime rate in Montebello is low. Muggings aren't common occurrences."

  "So I've heard."

  "Do you think there could be more to it?"

  "That's what I hope to find out."

  They walked the rest of the way to the base hospital in silence. It wasn't an easy silence, but Kate didn't attempt to break it. She rubbed her arms. She wasn't sure whether the wind that curled around the buildings was getting colder or whether the coolness came from the man who strode beside her.

  Thurlow was in a curtained cubicle in the emergency ward. A white bandage circled his head and an IV bag dripped fluid into his arm. The doctor on duty reiterated what Sam had told Kate, then moved to his next patient, leaving them alone with the young officer.

  Sam stepped to Thurlow's side and laid his hand on his arm. "Petty Officer Thurlow," he said. "Tom, can you hear me?"

  There was no response. Not even the flicker of an eyelid.

  Sam leaned closer. "It's Lieutenant Coburn, Tom. I need you to tell me what happened."

  "He might be out for hours," Kate said.

  "Or he could wake up in the next minute."

  "Sure, but—"

  "I prefer not to assume the worst, Kate." He shot her a look from under his brows. "It's always better to give people a fair chance."

  She knew by the hard line of his jaw that he wasn't only talking about Petty Officer Thurlow. And she sensed the rift between her and Sam gape wider.

  But she couldn't think of anything to say in reply. She could understand his bitterness. He'd only had a few hours to come to terms with something she'd been trying to resolve for five years. A few quick words weren't going to fix this.

  The curtain at the foot of the bed moved aside. The blond policewoman who had been handling the weather data for the fleet burst into the cubicle. "Tommy. Oh, my God, I—" She pulled up short when she saw Sam and Kate. "Oh. I just heard and... I hadn't known anyone else was here."

  "Hello, Sergeant Winters," Kate said.

  She glanced at Sam, her cheeks flushing, before she returned Kate's greeting. "How is he?"

  "According to the doctor, he's holding his own."

  "I heard he was mugged," Winters said. "I can't believe it. He was fine when we left the Flying Jib."

  "You saw him last night?" Sam asked.

  The sergeant nodded. She flicked Sam another quick glance but seemed unwilling to meet his gaze. Kate was momentarily puzzled—Shannon Winters hadn't been very subtle about her interest in Sam. Until now, she'd barely been able to keep her eyes off him.

  "What time did he leave?" Kate asked.

  "It was after midnight," she replied. "Maybe around one. I'm not sure of the time. I had..." She cleared her throat. "I had a little too much wine."

  "It happens," Sam said.

  Winters clutched the rail at the side of the bed. "It's embarrassing. Sometimes I do things... I wouldn't normal lydo."

  "I understand," Sam said.

  Winters gave him a tight smile. "Thanks."

  "No problem. Where did you and Thurlow go when you left the Jib?"

  Kate looked from Winters to Sam. She had the feeling there was a subtext to this conversation that she was missing.

  "Tom wanted to show me his boat," Winters said. "I, uh, left about an hour later. He was still there. He was asleep."

  "He was found in an alley near the harbor." Sam turned his attention to the motionless form on the bed. "I'm wondering whether there was a connection."

  "Do you think someone mugged him for the boat, not his money?" Kate asked.

  "Possibly."

  "That fishing boat he had been assigned to wouldn't normally interest a thief," Kate said. "Unless..."

  "Unless the thief was desperate for transportation," Sam finished.

  "Ursula Chambers?"

  "Possibly."

  "Where's the boat now?" Kate asked. "What about the rest of the crew?"

  "Good questions. We'd better find out. Sergeant Winters?"

  She started. "Yes, Lieutenant Coburn?"

  "Stay with Thurlow. Let us know the instant he regains consciousness and can answer questions," he ordered. He held the curtain aside and looked at Kate. "We'd better get back to the command center. We can check things out faster from there."

  The moment they entered the command center, Kate sensed the tension in the air. It took only eight minutes to confirm that the Penelope, the fishing boat Thurlow had been using, was not in its berth at the harbor. The two recruits who had completed the crew had no idea of its whereabouts.

  With each piece of news, a buzz began to grow. There was an edge to people's movements and a hint of sharpness in their voices. It had been eleven days since the hunt for Ursula Chambers had begun. The wait had worn on everyone's nerves. Even if this proved to be a false alarm, at least something was finally happening.

  "Thurlow and the Penelope were assigned to the grid in Sector C," Kate said after checking her master list. "Whoever has the boat now would be able to hear everything that's said over the open frequency on the radio. Sergeant Chelios?"

  The policeman at the communications console looked up quickly. "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Instruct the personnel in Sector C to switch to their alternate frequency immediately."

  "Right away, ma'am."

  "Then get the description of the Penelope out to everyone on patrol," Sam ordered. "Contact the naval vessels offshore and alert them to the situation. In the meantime, we have to carry on with the regular search and maintain cover until we can confirm whether or not Chambers is on that fishing boat."

  "Yes, sir."

  Kate frowned at the list on her clipboard. "Without Thurlow's boat, we'll be short one vessel in his area of the search grid. We need to plug the gap."

  "We should have every available vessel on the water, anyway," Sam said. "The more pairs of eyes we have looking, the better our chances. I'm taking out the sloop."

  Kate looked up quickly. "The weather is unsettled. The sailing conditions could become difficult."

  "It's the same weather the rest of the fleet is facing. And the sloop has a full keel. She can handle rough seas."

  "Yes, I know, but—"

  "I wouldn't ask my men to do anything I wasn't willing to do myself." He paused. "And I'm not asking anything of you, Lieutenant Mulvaney."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I can manage the boat solo."

  He didn't want her with him, she realized. Until now he'd taken full advantage of their mission to make sure they spent as much time as possible together. His persistence had annoyed her and upset her, but it had been better than this... distance.

  "We're still partners, Lieutenant Coburn," she said recklessly, tossing her clipboard aside. "I'm coming with you."

  * * *

  Sam strained to hold the wheel steady as he squinted at the western horizon. Over the course of the last few hours, the weather had deteriorated more quickly than he'd anticipated. Heavy, steel-bellied clouds hung low over the water while their tops reached to block the sun. The sea was a shifting carpet of gray, pushed into restless swells by the strengthening wind. Spray shot from the bow as the sloop sliced through the waves.

  Kate emerged from the cabin, fastening the toggles on the yellow slicker she'd donned. She held another one out to Sam. "I found these in the locker under the bunk. It looks as if we might need them."<
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  He mumbled his thanks and shrugged on the raincoat. He wouldn't mistake her gesture for concern or caring. She had given him the raincoat so he would be able to continue the mission. That's what she would claim if he asked her, anyway.

  It had been a frustrating day. Even though he and Kate were completely alone, neither one of them had broached any subject that wasn't related to the mission. Yet the things that were left unsaid crackled in the air between them.

  He had trusted her. He had believed that they had honesty between them. Even though he tried to tell himself it was all in the past, he couldn't seem to suppress his resentment. He was only human. She had decided to keep the existence of his child a secret from him. She had decided he was unworthy. How was he supposed to shrug that off?

  "Did you get through to the command center on the radio?" he asked.

  "Yes. There's a major system approaching Montebello from the west. This weather is just the leading edge."

  Sam wiped a film of spray from his face. "The fleet has a standing order to return to port if conditions deteriorate to the point of becoming dangerous. It's the call of each acting captain. Anything else?"

  "Yes. Sergeant Winters reported from the hospital. Thurlow regained consciousness."

  "How is he? Does he remember what happened?"

  "Apparently he's got a major headache, but he should recover. He's hazy about the details of the attack. There were two people, a man and a woman. He surprised them as they were coming on board the Penelope."

  "So they were after the boat."

  "That's how it appears. I think they took his money and dumped him away from the pier to throw the police off track."

  "Did he give a description?"

  "The man was bearded, the woman was a tall brunette."

  "Brunette?"

  "Chambers could have dyed her hair. The rest of the physical description matches."

  "Did he identify the photograph?"

  "It was too dark for him to make out features, and it all happened quickly, but I think it was Chambers," Kate said. "Thurlow was taken off guard because it was the woman who hit him. She used an oar."

  Sam adjusted his weight to compensate for the pitch of the deck as the boat rode another swell. Ursula Chambers had cracked the skull of the king's nephew with a marble statue. She had killed her own sister. A woman like that wouldn't hesitate to smash an oar into the head of a groggy, unarmed man.