by Raye Morgan
“And boyfriends?” David was saying. “I’m sure you’ve got a boyfriend back home.”
She settled down, shaking away unhappiness and trying to live in the moment. “Actually, I don’t,” she admitted.
“Really.”
“Really.” She thought about it for a moment. She kept meaning to get a boyfriend. So far her life had just been too busy to have time for that sort of thing. “I’ve been going to college and going to law school and working, as well. There just hasn’t been time for boyfriends.”
“You’re kidding.” So it was just as he’d thought. She was a workaholic who needed to learn how to be young while she still had the chance. “Most women make time.”
“Well, I didn’t. I was so set on doing the very best I possibly could and succeeding and making my parents proud of me.”
“Your adoptive parents, right?”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“Ah.” He nodded, too. So it was a classic case of over-compensation. She probably spent all her time working frantically to prove it was a good decision for them to have chosen her. “You’re the girl driven to bring home the As on her report card.”
She smiled fleetingly, pleased he seemed to understand.
“And your sister Sam?”
“Sam not so much.” She winced, wishing she hadn’t said that. She didn’t ever, ever want to say anything that even hinted at criticism of her adoptive sister ever again. She put her hand over her heart, as though she could push back the pain.
“I came over to Texas with a bunch of kids who’d lost their parents in the rebellion. We were all adopted out, mostly to American families with Ambrian roots.”
“So it was an organized rescue operation.”
“Sort of. I’ve told you all this, haven’t I? I was adopted by the Sommers of Dallas, Texas, and I grew up like any other American kid.” Her parents’ faces swam into her mind and she felt a lump in her throat. They were such good people. They should have had another twenty or thirty years. It didn’t pay to expect life to be fair.
“You don’t remember Ambria at all?” he asked after a moment.
She gave him a look. “I was eighteen months old at the time I left.”
“A little young to understand the political history of the place,” he allowed with a quick, barely formed grin. “So what do you really know about Ambria?”
“Not much.” She shrugged. “There were some books around the house.” Her face lit up as an old memory came to her. “One time, an uncle stopped in to visit and he told Sam and me about how we were both really Ambrian, deep down, and he told us stories.” She half smiled remembering how she and her sister had hung on his every word, thrilled to be a part of something that made them a little different from all their friends.
Ambrian. It sounded cool and sort of exotic, like being Italian or Lithuanian.
“Other than that, not much.”
He thought that over for a moment. He’d had the advantage of being six years old, so he remembered a lot. But when you came right down to it, the rest he’d learned on his own, finding books, looking things up on the Internet. His foster parents had taken him in and assumed he was now one of the family and Dutch to boot. No need to delve into things like roots and backgrounds. That just made everyone uneasy. They had been very good to him in every other way, but as far as reminding him of who he was, they probably thought it was safer if he forgot, just like everyone else.
And if it hadn’t been for one old man who had moved to Holland from Ambria years before and lived near their summer home, he might have done just that.
“Too bad your parents didn’t tell you more,” he mused, comparing her experience to his and wondering why such different circumstances still ended up being treated the same way by the principals involved.
“They were busy with their jobs and raising two little girls, getting us to our dance practices and violin lessons and all that sort of thing.”
She moved restlessly. This was getting too close to the pain again. She hadn’t told him about her parents yet and she wasn’t sure she ever would. She knew she would never be able to get through it without breaking down, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. Better to stick to the past.
“They were great parents,” she said, knowing she sounded a little defensive. “They just didn’t feel all that close to Ambria themselves, I guess.” She brightened. “But being Ambrian got me a grant for law school and even my job once I passed the bar.”
He remembered she’d mentioned something about that before but he hadn’t really been listening. Now he realized this could be a factor. “Your law firm is Ambrian?”
“Well, a lot of the associates are of Ambrian background. It’s not like we sit around speaking Ambrian or anything like that.”
This was all very interesting. The Ambrian connection was going to turn out to be more relevant than she knew—he was sure of it. His jaw tightened as he remembered that he still didn’t really know why she had shown up in his apartment or who had sent her.
But of course, there was a very possible explanation. She could, even unwittingly, be a stalking horse for a real assassin. Or she could merely be the one testing the territory for someone who meant to come in and make sure David never reached the strength to threaten the current Ambrian regime. It was hard to know and he was more and more convinced that she didn’t know anything more than what she’d told him.
He remembered what she’d said about not knowing which side her parents had been on. Since she had no emotional identification with either side, she was pretty much an innocent in all this. If she was here because an enemy of his had sent her, she wasn’t likely to be aware of it.
Still, he shouldn’t have brought her along. It was a stupid, amateur thing to do. He should probably find a way to park her somewhere—if it wasn’t already too late.
Because he couldn’t keep her with him. He was due in Italy by the end of the week for the annual meeting of the Ambrian expatriate community. This would be the first time he’d ever attended. It was to be a gathering of the clan, a coming together of a lot of Ambrians who had been powers, or were related to those who had been, in the old days. He needed to be focused on the future of Ambria, not on Ayme and Cici. He couldn’t take them along.
So—what to do with them in the meantime?
He’d promised he would help Ayme find Cici’s father and he meant to keep that promise. It was bound to get a bit complicated, seeing as how his name had come into the picture, and he didn’t have much time. But he had a few contacts. He would do what he could to help.
The only thing he could think of was Marjan, his adoptive sister who was married with two children and lived in a farming town in a northern area of Holland. It was a good, out of the way place where they could melt into the scenery. Maybe even he could slip in below the radar there.
It was odd how quickly he seemed to have slipped into the cloak-and-dagger mold. But then, he supposed he’d been training for it ever since he left Ambria, in attitude if not in action. It was true that he’d never felt he could fully open himself to others in his life. He always had to hide, not only his real identity, but also his feelings about things.
“So I guess you could say,” he said, going on with their conversation, “bottom line, that you don’t really care about who runs Ambria?”
“Care?” She looked at him blankly. “I’ve never given it a second thought.”
“Of course not.”
He turned away, feeling a surge of bitterness in his chest. Was it only he and his brother who still cared? If so, they were going to have a hard time rallying others to their cause. But it was hardly fair to lay this complaint on her. She couldn’t help it that no one had bothered to educate her about her background.
And if he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that the strength of his own feelings had been greatly enhanced by his relationship with his brother. Before he knew Monte, his interest in Ambria was strong, even p
assionate, but diffused. It had taken an intensive experience with his brother to bring out the nuances.
It had been exciting and a fulfillment of a lifelong dream to find Monte the way he did. But it had been very difficult for the two of them to have any sort of relationship. They couldn’t trust most forms of communication, they couldn’t appear together anywhere because of how much alike they looked, they had to be aware of the possibility that someone was listening every time they spoke to each other. So Monte finally hit upon the perfect scheme—a six-week sailing trip in the South Pacific.
They met in Bali and proceeded from there, getting to know each other and hashing out the possibilities of being royals without a country to call their own. They had huge arguments, even huger reconciliations, they shared ideas, hopes and dreams and emotions, and they ended up as close as any two brothers could be. By the time the six weeks was up, they had both become impassioned with the goal of taking their country back, somehow, someday. To that end, they quickly become co-conspirators and developed a plan.
They decided to continue to go under their aliases. That was necessary for survival. Monte would travel in international circles he already had access to and try to gain information—and eventually supporters—and David would go undercover in the social jet-setting world he knew so well to glean what he could from business contacts on one side and the inebriated rich drones he partied with on the other. Their primary goal was to find their lost brothers and sisters and begin to work toward a restoration of their monarchy.
So he had a very large advantage over Ayme. He certainly couldn’t expect her to share his goals when she’d never even heard of most of them and wouldn’t know what to do with them if she had.
Their conversation had faded away by now and she spent some time watching the countryside roll past. Morning had come and gone and afternoon was sending long shadows across the land. The countryside was much more interesting now with its checkerboard fields and beautiful green hedgerows and the quaint little towns. This was more like the England she’d expected to see.
But the unanswered questions still haunted this trip as far as she was concerned. Where were they going? And why?
They stopped for petrol and David noticed a park nearby.
“Want to get out and stretch your legs?” he suggested as he maneuvered the car into the little parking lot next to a large tree. “I need to make a phone call.”
They got out of the car and he strolled out of listening range. She let him go. There was no reason to resent his wanting privacy, after all.
He looked back as their paths diverged. He didn’t want her to get too far away. But he needed to make contact with his brother.
Once he had Monte on the line, he filled him in on Ayme and the fact that he had her in tow. Monte was not enthusiastic.
“You’re not bringing her to Italy, are you?”
“No, of course not. I’m taking her to my sister’s. Marjan will take good care of her.”
“Good.”
“But in the meantime, I’d like you to do me a favor.”
“Anything. You know that.”
“Just information. First I need to know about a car accident outside of Dallas, Texas, sometime last week. A young woman named Samantha Sommers was killed. I’d like a brief rundown of the facts in the case, the survivors, etc.”
“I’m jotting down your info as we speak.”
“Good. Besides that I’d like anything you can find on Ayme. Her name is Ayme Sommers. She’s an attorney for a law firm in Dallas that has a division which specializes in Ambrian immigration issues.”
“Will do.”
“And here’s another one. There seems to be someone—probably in the greater London area—who is fathering babies under the guise of being Prince Darius.”
That gave Monte pause. “Hmm. Not good.”
“No. Do you think you can make inquiries?”
“I can do more than that. I can start a full-fledged investigation on that one.”
“Without identifying your own interest in the case?”
“Exactly. Don’t worry. I can do that easily.”
“Good. I figure he’s either found a way to make time with the ladies using the royalty dodge, or…”
“Or he’s an agent trying to flush you out.”
“You got it.”
“I’m voting for the latter, but we’ll see.” Monte’s voice lightened. “In the meantime, David…a bit of news. I’ve found the perfect wife for you.”
David’s head reared back. Despite his overwhelming respect for his brother, that hadn’t sat well with him from the beginning.
“I don’t need a wife right now,” he shot back. “And if I did, I could find my own.”
“You can find your own mistresses, Darius,” Monte said, his tone containing just a hint of rebuke. “Your wife is a state affair.”
David groaned softly, regretting his reaction. Where had his tart response come from, anyway? He and his brother had already discussed this and he knew very well that he needed a wife to help support the cause. The right wife. It was one of the obligations of royalty.
The two of them had pledged that everything they were going to do from now on was going to be for the benefit of Ambria. No self-serving ambitions or appetites would be allowed to get in the way. They were both ready to sacrifice their private lives—and even their actual lives if it came to that. He was firmly committed to achieving their goals. Nothing else mattered.
“Families are the building blocks of empires,” Monte was saying blithely. “We need you to be married and to have a solid relationship. We’ve talked about this before. I thought you were on board.”
“I am,” David put in hastily. “Sorry, Monte. I’m just a little tired and short tempered right now. Don’t pay any attention.”
“Good. Wait until you meet her. She’s beautiful. She’s intelligent. And she’s totally devoted to overturning the Granvilli clan’s totalitarian regime. She’ll fight by your side and rule there, too, when we achieve our goal.” He chuckled. “I’m not worried about how you’ll react. She’ll knock you out when you see her.”
“I’m sure she will.”
But David grimaced, wondering if Monte wasn’t perhaps overselling the case. He’d known a lot of bright, gorgeous and astonishing women in his time. So this was another one of them. Readiness to fight for the cause would be just the icing on the cake. He’d seen it all before.
But he couldn’t completely discount Monte’s opinion. He’d spent so many years adrift, not knowing where he was going or what he wanted to do with himself. He’d done well in his Dutch father’s business, but his heart wasn’t in it.
Once he and Monte had found each other, their future trajectory became clear. Now he knew what he was on earth to do. He had a new seriousness and a sense of purpose. His life had meaning after all. Finding the rest of his family and restoring them all to power was all he lived for.
“Keep me apprised as best you can. Let me know where you are if you can.”
“I will.”
Ringing off, he started back to join Ayme and the baby, stopping only to toss the cell phone into a trash can. You couldn’t be too careful and he had a stock of extras, just in case.
The park was pretty and green and centered on a pond with a small bridge over it, creating a lovely vantage point for watching small silver fish swim by below.
“Look, Cici. Look at the fishies,” Ayme was saying, holding the baby precariously at the rail and making David laugh. Still, he moved in quickly to avoid disaster.
“She’s a little young for a swim,” he commented. “Here, I’ll take her.”
And he did so easily. Ayme sighed. It seemed to come naturally to him and she was having such a hard time with it.
She watched him for a moment. He glanced up and caught her eye, but she looked away quickly, still uneasy, still not sure what the point of all this was. The questions just kept bubbling up inside her and she needed some answ
ers.
“Okay, here’s what I don’t understand,” she challenged him as they walked through the grass. “If you’re Dutch, how come you care so much about Ambria? What is your tie to the place?”
He looked startled, then like a man trying to cover something up. “Who says I care so much about Ambria?”
“Oh, please! It resonates in everything you say.”
Hmm. That wasn’t good news. He was going to have to be a bit more guarded, wasn’t he? Still, it did seem churlish to keep such basic information from her. It would all be common knowledge soon enough. Once he got to Italy, all would very likely be revealed anyway. He decided she deserved to be among the first to know. Just not quite yet.
“We can talk about this later,” he said evasively.
“Wait a minute,” she said, stopping in front of him and putting her hands on her hips. “I’m staging a small rebellion here.”
Her dark eyes were flashing and her pretty face was set firmly. He knew better than to laugh at her, but it was tempting. She did look damn cute.
“What are you talking about?” he asked instead.
She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t get it. What the heck are we running from?”
“Danger.”
“What danger? From whom?” She threw her hands up. “I don’t see what I’ve done to put myself in danger. All I did was hop on a plane and come to England looking for Cici’s father. How did that put me in danger?”
He raked fingers through his hair and looked uncomfortable. “It hasn’t exactly. It’s put me in danger.” He took in a deep breath and let it out again, slowly. “And because you’re currently attached to me, it’s put you in danger, too.”
Her chin rose and she watched him with a hint of defiance in her gaze. “Then maybe I should unattach myself.”
She was just throwing that out there, waiting to see what his reaction would be. When you came right down to it, the thought of “unattaching” from him filled her with dread. At this point, she didn’t have a clue what she would do without him. And she really didn’t want to find out.
