Romancing The Crown: Lorenzo and Anna

If she’d been dealing with anyone but royalty, Eliza would have laughed. How did she explain Willy to people who only had to snap their fingers to have anything in the world they wanted? They lived in a palace, for heaven’s sake! How could they possibly comprehend a man who avoided other people like the plague and lived in a shack that looked like it was going to fall down about his ears any moment?

“Willy’s different,” she said. “He fought in Vietnam, and it must have done something to his mind. He’s a little squirrelly.”

Queen Gwendolyn lifted a delicately arched brow. “Are you saying he’s crazy?”

“No, actually, I think he’s quite sane,” she replied. “I guess the best way to describe him is eccentric. He doesn’t trust many people. He sees intruders in the shadows, and he’s called the police so many times that they put him on hold whenever they recognize his voice. That’s why he called me when he found Prince Lucas’s scarf. I’m the only one who’ll listen to him.”

“Lorenzo will listen to him.”

“I’m sure he will. The problem is Willy won’t talk to him. He won’t talk to anyone but me.”

“I knew it!” Lorenzo snorted in disdain. “This is nothing but a scam.” Turning to his aunt and uncle, he said, “Can’t you see she’s just stringing you along? How do we know this Willy character even exists? She could have made this all up, bought the scarf over the Internet and trampled it in the dirt to make it look like it had been in the weather.”

Indignant, Eliza snapped, “And why would I do such a thing? For a story? According to you, there is no story. And that would come out soon enough if I tried to slip something so outrageous past my readers. I’d lose my job, and I’m not going to risk that for a story that doesn’t exist.”

“Then tell us more about Mr. Cranshaw,” the queen said. “If he truly does exist, Lorenzo really needs to meet with him. There might be something he didn’t think to tell you about the scarf that could lead us to Lucas.”

She had a point, one Eliza couldn’t disagree with. But they were talking about Willy, for God’s sake! How in the world was she going to get him to cooperate? If he got it in his head that the duke was suspicious of him, he might take off up into the mountains because he was afraid he was going to be arrested or something, and there was no telling how long he’d be gone.

“Willy is a hermit, Your Highness. I can’t predict how he will react to Duke Lorenzo—or me, for that matter, if I introduce them. But I’ll try,” she promised. “I came here because I truly believe Prince Lucas is alive. I’ll do anything I can to help find him.”

“For a price,” Duke Lorenzo said dryly. “You want the story.”

“I already have the story,” she reminded him. “I’ll admit that I would love an exclusive, but whether the king grants me that or not, I’ll do whatever I can to help find Prince Lucas. That’s the real story here.”

“I agree,” King Marcus said in a tone that warned them that he had had enough of their bickering. “The only thing of importance is finding Lucas. You can’t do that from here, Lorenzo. Not when he may be wandering around the mountains of Colorado, lost and confused and no doubt suffering from some serious injuries. So I’m reopening the investigation and sending you home with Eliza.”

“What?!”

“Your Highness, Duke Lorenzo doesn’t need me to show him the way to Colorado.”

“That’s true,” he replied, his lips twitching. “But he needs you to take him to Willy. And you did say you would help in any way you could. You meant that, didn’t you?”

Trapped, Eliza could hardly add that her help didn’t include doing any favors for the duke. She’d just have to bite her tongue and learn to tolerate him, like it or not. After all, it wasn’t as if she was going to have to spend weeks at a time with the man. The minute they reached Denver, she’d arrange a meeting with Willy, and drive him out to his place. Willy, of course, wouldn’t have anything to do with him, and that would be that. The Duke would admit defeat and fly back home, end of story.

So what was she worried about? She might have to spend another twenty-four hours in the duke’s company? If she couldn’t handle that in order to get a story, she had no right being in the newspaper business.

“Of course I meant it,” she said quietly. “I’ll call Willy as soon as we get back to Denver and set up a meeting.”

Pleased, he smiled. “Then it’s settled. You and Lorenzo will work together. Between the two of you, with your investigative skills and his years in intelligence, you’re bound to find Lucas.”

Lorenzo wasn’t too sure of that—the prince had been missing for a year and could be anywhere!—but at the moment, the king had another pressing problem to handle. Down the hall, family and new allies were waiting for him to announce his successor. Now that there was a strong possibility that Lucas was alive, that announcement would, of course, be put on hold.

“For the moment, I think it would be wise if you didn’t say anything specific about this new evidence, Your Highness,” Lorenzo said quietly. “Just as a precaution.”

“I agree,” he replied solemnly. “Lucas obviously isn’t himself or he would have been in touch with us by now, so we must do what we can to protect him.” Turning his attention back to Eliza, he gave her a hard look. “I need your word that you won’t reveal my son’s whereabouts until he is safe, Eliza. If you can’t do that and still write your story, then I need to know now.”

Eliza didn’t pretend to misunderstand what he was saying. If she couldn’t promise to write the story the way the king wanted, there would be no exclusive. “I like to think I’m a responsible reporter, Your Highness. I believe in freedom of the press, but I also realize that what I write can have repercussions. I don’t like withholding information from my readers, but in this case, I agree that there is a need to protect the prince as much as possible. What I’d like to do is write a feature story on him—his life, and hopefully, his rescue. The search for him will have to be included in that, of course, but the story won’t be printed until after Prince Lucas is back home, safe and sound.”

“And your editor will agree to this?”

Simon would have a stroke, but that was something she had no intention of telling the royals. “He won’t like it,” she said honestly. “He would much rather cover the search as it’s happening, but he’ll accept whatever terms I agree to.” He had to. She was writing the story. He couldn’t force her to divulge anything she didn’t want to. “I give you my word that I won’t write anything that will place the Prince in danger.”

Considering that, the king glanced at the queen. “What do you think, sweetheart? Should we even consider giving anyone an exclusive at this point? We have to do what’s right for Lucas.”

Before she could respond, Lorenzo said, “Then the real question here is whether you can trust a woman you don’t know from Adam. She’s a reporter. She has her own agenda.”

Her eyes flashing with irritation, Eliza didn’t say a word in her own defense. How could she? He was right. She was a reporter and she did have her own agenda—she wanted a story that would rock the world back on its heels. That didn’t mean, however, that she was a liar.

“We all have our own agenda,” Queen Gwendolyn replied. “I want my son back, and just this morning, I didn’t think that was possible. Thanks to Eliza, now I do.”

Turning to Lorenzo, she said, “So the answer to your question is yes, I think we can trust her. By granting her an exclusive, it’s in her best interest to keep Lucas’s whereabouts a secret. Not only will she have more to write about, but she’ll protect her source so someone else won’t find him before we do and steal the story right out from under her.”

“I agree,” the king said. “Eliza will do the right thing. The exclusive is hers. Lorenzo, find my son for me.”

“I’ll do my best, Your Highness.”

“I know you will,” he said gruffly. “Now that that’s settled, I have an announcement to make. I’ve kept my guests waiting long enough.”

Only he and the queen knew for sure who he had chosen to succeed him, and that was information they chose to keep to themselves. Watching them stride out, Eliza couldn’t help but envy Lorenzo as he joined them. Given the chance, she would have found a way to follow them, but before she could even think about moving, Rudy stepped into the doorway, blocking her path.

“Duke Lorenzo will meet you at the airport for your return flight to the United States. You do not need to make flight arrangements, as you’ll be traveling on one of the king’s private jets,” he informed her. “The king has ordered a car to drive you there now.”

When he motioned for her to proceed him out another door across the room, she could hardly take offense. What did she care if she missed out on the king’s announcement? She had the real story. The prince was alive, and she had an exclusive! Life didn’t get any better than that.

With every tick of the clock, the volume of the conversation in the throne room seemed to escalate as more and more guests speculated about the growing lateness of the hour and the king’s tardiness. Standing off to the side of the podium that had been set up earlier for the king’s announcement, Kyle Ramsey could well understand the concerned whispers being bandied about by the other guests. The king, as a rule, was generally a punctual man. Unlike some men of power, he respected other people’s time as much as he did his own. He wouldn’t be this late unless something was seriously wrong.

“What do you think’s going on?” his brother, Tyler, asked as he propped a shoulder against a pillar and studied the crowd with watchful eyes. “Something’s happened.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “but I don’t like it.”

He had just cause to be concerned. Last year, as a top gun pilot and newly recruited member of the Noble Men, a covert team of peacekeepers that traveled the world protecting women and children, he had, along with the rest of the team, helped restore relations between Montebello and its neighbor, Tamir, after a century-long feud. Peace in the region was of utmost importance, and for the past few weeks, he’d been training his brother to help with the monitoring of the skies over the eastern Mediterranean. When they’d received an invitation to the palace to witness the king’s announcement of his new heir, Kyle had assumed the invitation was just a matter of courtesy. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Before he could start to worry about what was going on, there was a stir at the door and the king and queen entered, followed by their nephew, Duke Lorenzo. Considering the fact that with the naming of a successor, the king was virtually acknowledging the death of his son, Kyle was surprised to see him smiling. He’d expected the meeting to be tense and tearful. Instead, King Marcus was almost beaming as he moved to the podium.

Silence fell over the elegant confines of the throne room. “I apologize for the delay,” the king said, greeting his elite group of guests with an easy smile. “First, I would like to thank you all for coming. As you must all know by now, I invited you here to name my successor to the throne.”

The guests exchanged speaking glances, and suddenly, there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Who would be king? The question seemed to float around the room, but if the king noticed, he gave no sign of it. Still smiling, he held out his hand to the queen, and with a love that lit up her entire face, she moved to his side.

Together, they faced their family, friends and allies. “As you all know, the past year has not been easy for us,” King Marcus continued. “Queen Gwendolyn and I both believed with all our hearts that Prince Lucas was alive, but with each passing day, it was harder to hang on to hope. Eventually, we reached a point where we had to face the fact that life had to go on. I had to have an heir. Choosing someone to succeed me other than my son was not something I was looking forward to. Now, thankfully, it turns out that I don’t have to.”

When a collective gasp rose from his guests, he had to smile. “No, it’s not quite what you think. We haven’t found Prince Lucas…yet. But there are some new developments in the case, and although I’m not at liberty to tell you what they are at this time, the queen and I wanted you to know that we have high hopes that he will be back with us soon. Thank you all for coming. You’ll never know what your prayers and support have meant to us.”

Chapter 3

With the king and queen’s exit, silence fell like a shroud, and for what seemed like an eternity, the guests just stood there, unable to believe the sudden turn of events. Then, an invisible switch seemed to be flicked, and in the next breath, everyone was talking at once.

“Can you believe that?” Hassan Kamal exclaimed. “Talk about timing!”

“I personally find it a little too convenient,” Butrus Dabir replied, his hawklike features hard with suspicion. “Think about it. The prince has been missing for a full year, then the very day the king is prepared to announce a successor, suddenly there’s some mysterious news that he may be alive, after all. Obviously, he doesn’t want to name Princess Julia and Sheik Rashid as his successors.”

“You always were suspicious of the Sebastianis, Butrus,” Sheik Ahmed said dryly. “It must be that legal mind of yours. You see a conspiracy around every corner.”

Not the least offended, he didn’t deny it. “They are too closely aligned with the West, sire. They do not think like us.”

“That, unfortunately, is too true,” he agreed. “In this particular instance, however, I don’t think King Marcus is deliberately conspiring to deny his daughter the throne. He’s just a grieving father who isn’t ready to acknowledge his son’s death. I can’t say I blame him. I would find that equally difficult.”

Standing nearby, overhearing the entire conversation, Princess Julia could have hugged her father-in-law for that. There was no question that her family did think differently from her husband’s family, but much of that had to do with the feud that had existed between their two countries for the past century. Trust was not something that came automatically just because peace had been declared.

When it came to family, however, there was very little difference between the Sebastianis and the Kamals. They believed, as she and her parents did, that nothing was more important in life than the love of family.

Reading her thoughts, her father-in-law looked right at her at that moment, his black eyes alight with sympathy and understanding, and it was all she could do not to cry. She missed her brother terribly and couldn’t blame her parents for wanting to believe Lucas was still alive. She did, too.

At her side, Rashid took her hand and twined his fingers with hers, his dark eyes smiling into hers when she looked up. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to. After everything they’d been through, they had a knowledge of each other that went soul deep.

“The king may be grieving, but he understands that it’s his duty to protect the monarchy at all costs,” Rashid told Butrus and his father. “He wouldn’t postpone naming a successor unless he truly believed Lucas was alive.”

“I agree,” Hassan said. “Whatever’s going on, it has nothing to do with some kind of secret plot to deny Julia and Rashid the throne. They never had much of a chance at it anyway. No offense,” he told his brother and sister-in-law with a quick grin. “It’s just a matter of common sense. If the Sebastiani monarchy is to continue, it has to be handed down through the male line.”

Julia agreed. “That doesn’t mean there won’t be a strong alliance between our two countries,” she said. “Now we are not only linked by marriage, but by blood, thanks to baby Omar. The friendship between Montebello and Tamir can only grow stronger.”

“I hope so,” Butrus said coolly. “I just don’t like this new development.”

He wasn’t the only one. Moving to join his brother, Desmond couldn’t imagine what new evidence the king was talking about, but he was absolutely livid. Lorenzo would be king, dammit! It was his right. Marcus had raised him like a son, and it was time he let go of this pipe dream that Lucas was still alive and give Lorenzo the position he deserved in the family. Then, when his dearly loved brother ascended to the throne, he, Desmond, would have the position he, too, deserved. He would be the next best thing to king! That was only just. After all, as the oldest son of the king’s deceased brother, Antonio, he was also the king’s nephew. It wasn’t his fault his mother had been a household maid, he thought bitterly. If he had been legitimate instead of his father’s bastard child, he would the one the king was now considering as his heir to the throne.

His resentment of that was, however, something he had kept well hidden over the years. So when his brother joined him again, he greeted him with a pretended look of pleased surprise. “This is wonderful news, Lorenzo! So what is this new evidence the king was talking about? Does he really have proof that Lucas is alive?”

“You know I’m not at liberty to say anything about the investigation,” he said. “All I can say is that there’s some new evidence.”

“Oh, come on,” Desmond chided him. “I’m your brother. You can trust me. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“I didn’t say that you would,” he replied smoothly. “But the case has been reopened, and I don’t talk about active cases. Especially when the palace is virtually surrounded by reporters. The very walls have ears.”

Left with no choice, Desmond graciously accepted the fact that he would have to wait just like everyone else to find out what this new evidence was. But he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it all. Forcing a smile, he said, “You know best, little brother. I’m sure you’ll tell me when you can.”

From across the room, the Ramsey brothers silently gauged the guests’ reaction, and neither liked what they saw. “That one bothers me,” Kyle said quietly, flicking a look toward Desmond. “His eyes are cold as hell.”

“He’s close to the king,” Tyler reminded him.

Unimpressed, Kyle shrugged. “That’s only one more reason to watch him…along with everyone else. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s not the only one who’s less than happy with the king’s announcement.”

Tyler had noticed, all right, and he didn’t mind admitting he was worried. Some of the Kamals had been openly speculative, and where there was speculation, there was still distrust. “Peace with Tamir is still fragile. Anyone who wanted to shatter the Kamals’ relationship with Montebello could find a way to use this to their advantage.”

His expression grim, Kyle had already thought of that. “It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” It went without saying that they had their work cut out for them.

* * *

Cooling her heels at the airport, Eliza could just imagine the scene at the palace when the king announced that his son was alive. The place was probably in an uproar. Simon was going to hate that she missed that, but she hadn’t wanted to push her luck by asking to be present when the king gave his friends and allies the news. Not when she’d been granted an exclusive in the search for Prince Lucas! That alone was going to be worth a small fortune in headlines.

And the only fly in the ointment was that she had to work with Duke Lorenzo.

Irritating man, she thought, grimacing. She didn’t know how he’d developed a reputation as a flirt with the ladies. Granted, he had the Sebastiani looks—her heart had shifted in her breast just at the sight of him. Then he’d opened his mouth and ruined all her expectations.

That didn’t, however, mean that she wouldn’t be able to work with him. He had an attitude, but she’d dealt with worse. He might be a duke and come from a long line of royalty, but she was confident she could handle him. For the kind of headlines this story was going to generate, she could handle the devil himself.

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered to herself as she spied Lorenzo making his way toward her through the crowded airport. Carrying a small suitcase in his hand, he looked like he owned the place, she thought, then had to grin ruefully. He was a Sebastiani. Maybe he did!

His green eyes narrowing at the sight of her, she wasn’t surprised when he appeared to be less than pleased to see her. The only reason he was even associating with her at all was because the king had ordered him to. Lovely, she sighed. This was going to be just lovely. This was going to be worse than working with Deborah.

“Your Grace,” she said by way of a greeting. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Let’s go, then,” he said curtly, and motioned for her to follow him.

So much for common courtesy, she thought with a grimace as he led the way to the boarding gate the royal jet had been brought into. It was going to be a long flight. Hopefully, though, once they were on the plane, she wouldn’t have to deal with him until they got to Denver. She’d been too excited to sleep during the flight over, and exhaustion was quickly catching up with her. Lorenzo would, in his search for the prince, no doubt hit the ground running when they reached Denver, so she was going to need all the rest she could get. Hopefully, the jet had a sleep cabin in the back she could take advantage of. She wouldn’t mind using it—mainly to put more distance between herself and the duke.

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit in the back and catch a few winks,” she said as she followed him on to the lavishly appointed plane, trying not to gawk too much at the expensive furnishings.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he retorted. “I can’t talk to you when you’re at the back of the plane. You’ll sit with me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Eliza muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. So this was what it was like to be royalty. No wonder so many of the children grew up to lead wild lives. They were spoiled rotten!

Lorenzo, to his credit, didn’t take advantage of the flight attendant’s offer to bring him food or drink immediately. “No, thank you,” he told her with a charming smile he’d never once directed at Eliza. “We have a great deal of business to discuss right now. We’ll have some wine later.”

“As you wish, Your Grace,” she said and disappeared behind a curtain at the back of the plane, leaving them seated comfortably in the expensive leather seats in the first cabin.

And just that easily, Eliza found herself flying in a private jet, seated next to one of the best-looking men in Europe. Any other woman might have let it go to her head, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that the duke had requested she fly in the same cabin because he wanted her with him. They were together for one reason and one reason only—business. It was his job to find Prince Lucas and hers to write about it. She’d be wise to remember that.

She told herself that wouldn’t be difficult. He didn’t like her—he was only tolerating her presence because he had to. And the feeling was mutual. That wasn’t going to change, she assured herself, just because he fairly oozed charm when he smiled. Let him charm someone else. That wasn’t what she was here for.

Still, once he settled next to her, buckled in, then turned the full force of his beautiful green eyes on her, her heart started to sputter and she wasn’t nearly as indifferent as she would have liked.

“Tell me more about Willy,” he commanded coolly as he pulled a small notebook out of the inside pocket of his suitcoat. “I need to know everything there is to know about the man. Do you think he really found the scarf? Or did he steal it? Is he capable of harming the prince? You said he fought in the Vietnam War. Does he suffer from flashbacks? Just how dangerous is he?”

He threw questions at her like she was some kind of underling, not even giving her a chance to answer one before he tossed another one at her. And that, on top of the heated words they’d exchanged at the palace, was too much, as far as Eliza was concerned. Settling into a more comfortable position, she leaned back in her seat and surveyed him with a jaundiced look in her eyes that he would have been wise to be wary of.

“Since we’re going to be working together, Your Grace,” she said silkily, “I think it’s important that we begin as we mean to continue. I know you’re the head of Montebello Intelligence, and I understand you’re used to grilling people, but in the future, I would appreciate it if you didn’t treat me as if I was some sort of suspect. For the record, I don’t take orders well and I appreciate the word please when I’m asked to do something. I’m also reasonably intelligent. If you’ll remember that, we’ll get along just fine.”

Just that easily, she put him in his place and made him feel like a jackass, all without breaking a sweat. He was the one with royal blood, but she was the one acting like a damn princess. And Lorenzo couldn’t help but admire her for that. She’d had every right to tell him off—he’d acted like a jerk, and he didn’t know why. There was just something about this tall, skinny American that really set his teeth on edge.

She was a reporter, he reasoned, and he’d yet to meet one that he liked. They were all a bunch of leeches. There wasn’t a royal in the world who could make a move, however innocent, without a reporter somewhere jumping on the story and making money off of it. And he hated that. Other people were allowed their privacy and the right to occasionally do something stupid in public without it making headlines, but not a royal. Because of reporters like Eliza.

All right, so maybe he couldn’t hold her responsible for what her cohorts did. He was still stuck with her, like it or not. He had to tolerate her, but that was it. He didn’t have to like her ingenuity, didn’t want to admire her tenacity, and sternly ordered himself not to find her Katharine Hepburn-type looks attractive in any way. He couldn’t allow himself to forget that anything he said or did while he was with her could be splashed all over the front page. He hated that, but there was nothing he could do about it—the king had ordered him to accompany her back to Colorado. His objective was to find Lucas, hopefully alive, and he couldn’t do that without Eliza.

And that meant he had to find a way to work with her. “Look,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you and it certainly wasn’t my intention to treat you like a suspect. I’m not happy with the king’s orders, but I had no right to take that out on you. I won’t do it again.”

As far as apologies, it was much more than she’d expected. Pleasantly surprised, she said, “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Now that peace was established, she was more than willing to cooperate. “I don’t know what else I can tell you about Willy other than what I already have. He doesn’t deliberately lie—he’s just so suspicious that he’s paranoid sometimes.”

“But you believe him? You think he really found the scarf where he said he did?”

“Yes, I do.”

“But you just said that he’s paranoid sometimes. How do you know that he didn’t find the scarf at the crash site and just imagine it was somewhere else? He doesn’t sound very stable, if you ask me.”

Eliza couldn’t argue with that. There were times when Willy wasn’t very stable. But she believed him, and she couldn’t even say why. “I don’t know how to explain him to you. After he found the scarf, he must have called me a dozen times at work. He was truly concerned that the king was going to accept the fact that the prince was dead and name a new successor to the throne.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he had,” Lorenzo replied. “Everyone knows that if Lucas showed up alive, even if it was years from now, that he would be the king’s heir. He’s his son. No one else could ever take his place.”

“You and I know that, but Willy isn’t always playing with a full deck. In his eyes, once the king named a successor, Prince Lucas would lose his place in line forever, and he couldn’t let that happen.”

Still skeptical, he could only shake his head in wonder. “And this is the man who’s going to lead us to the prince. God help us all.”

Eliza couldn’t argue with that. Prince Lucas had been missing for a year, and what clues there were that might lead to his whereabouts had probably long since dried up and blown away. Every major law enforcement agency in the country had already looked for him, without success. If they were going to find him, they were going to need all the help they could get.

Lorenzo had never met anyone who could fall asleep so easily. After Eliza told him everything she could about Willy Cranshaw, she pulled her notebook computer from her satchel, busily typed her notes, then tucked it away again. Just seconds after that, she leaned back in her seat and was out like a light almost immediately. Not knowing her intentions until she dosed off, he felt guilty for not offering her a bed in the lounge at the back. Then, as he found himself studying her in spite of his best efforts not to, he was glad he hadn’t.

Why did she have to be so pretty?

The thought slipped into his head uninvited, irritating him no end. He would have sworn he didn’t care much for redheads, but there was something about her corkscrew curls that he found incredibly feminine and appealing—especially when they were piled on top of her head as they were now. He wanted to touch them to see if they were as soft as they looked—but he didn’t dare.

Glancing away, he sternly ordered himself to ignore her. He might as well have told himself not to breathe. She’d forgotten to take off the small, hornrimmed glasses she wore when she worked, and they’d slipped down on her pert nose. He should have left them alone, but before he could stop himself, he found himself reaching for them.