The Royal Pain. MaryJanice Davidson

Tiegel’s head. Her glossy dark hair was in a Dorothy Hamill bob, further proof that the woman was stuck in the seventies.

      “I guess I’m a little nervous. They don’t—I mean, I’m from Pierre. South Dakota,” she added helpfully. “I’ve never met a princess before. We’re so happy you came to oversee the grand opening.”

      “It was my great pleasure, and Alaska’s.” She was trying not to wrinkle her nose, knowing she would soon get used to the smell of fish, penguins, and the offal of sea life. They had all posed for the press outside, but now, in the wee hours, they had the aquarium to themselves. It was a spacious, beautiful building, and the animals Alex could see looked clean, alert, and happy. Many of the exhibits were empty; the NDISL was a work in progress.

      “This work is so important, to all of us,” she continued. “King Alexander has a special fondness for this sort of thing—he had to pay for the Crown Prince’s doctorate in Marine Biology.”

      Dr. Tiegel giggled again. “We’re so glad you could clear your schedule. I guess your brother’s busy with his baby?”

      “Yes, and he’s overseeing the renovation of six aquariums in Alaska.” In addition to putting up with Christina, Edmund, their father, helping Christina test the recipes for her cookbook, and teaching Dara her ABCs. Not to mention the Geneva thing nobody could get out of.

      Suddenly, Alex was glad to be away. A line from Tolkien popped into her head: “The wide world is all about you; you can fence yourself in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.” That sounded like as good a cure for bad dreams as anything.

      “We’re going to start with the penguin exhibit, if that’s all right.”

      “Of course, as you wish, Dr. Tiegel. And I have to admit, I got a kick out of it when I heard. A land-locked aquarium struck me as unusual.”

      “Oh, no,” Dr. Tiegel said seriously. “There are aquariums in Colorado, Kentucky, Minnesota, Ohio, and Utah, just to name a few. I think you could make a case that they’re even more important in places where you wouldn’t be able to learn about the oceans on your own.”

      “I never thought about it like that. Thank you for enlightening me. Shall we start the tour? Where is Doctor…” She consulted her itinerary. “Dr. Rivers?”

      “Oh, um, Dr. Rivers can’t—he isn’t—I’m going to do the tour. I mean, I’m honored to do the tour.”

      Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. It was unusual for an itinerary to change at the last moment, and she could tell her security team—Reynolds, Danielson, and Krenklov—didn’t like it one bit. Jenny was murmuring to Danielson, doubtless telling him there was nothing to worry about. Alex didn’t especially care. She had never been remotely concerned about her own safety.

      “I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” she said automatically.

      “Oh no no no. It’s no trouble at all, Princess.”

      “Is Dr. Rivers ill?” Jenny asked sharply. She would, Alex knew, take any last minute problems as personally as a slap to the head.

      “Oh no no no. No. He’s fine. He’s just—” Alex looked on with interest while Dr. Tiegel stuttered and stammered. Finally, she took pity on the woman.

      “I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of the facility.”

      “Oh, it’s a wonderful—you’ll love it. Well, we all love it, and we hope you do, too. Okay, well, to begin, as you know, this is the North Dakota Institute for Sea Life. We’re a nonprofit organization, funded by corporations, private donors, and, of course…” Hazel eyes twinkled. “…Alaska. If you’ll follow me, we’ll skirt around the outermost edge of the penguin tank…”

      Dr. Tiegel opened a small door to the left and led them down a hallway. “These are the labs; most of us work here on various projects as our schedules allow. In fact, some of us sleep here if there’s an experiment we don’t want to leave.”

      “Do you do that in addition to taking care of the animals?”

      “We really don’t need to spend much hands-on time with the animals; most of the feeding and such is handled by volunteers. One of the many purposes of the NDISL is research. For every one thing we know, there are hundreds of thousands of things—more likely millions—we don’t know. Of course we have several on-staff biologists and veterinarians to keep an eye on the animals.”

      “How often do—”

      Suddenly, one of the doors was yanked open—Alex had time to notice the stark black lettering (Dr. Sheldon Rivers, Director, Global Marine Programs) before someone (presumably Dr. Rivers) was standing in the doorway.

      “Do you have to do this shit here?” he snapped, oblivious to the three guns trained on him. “You’ve got the whole damn place—twelve thousand square feet!—and you have to have your meeting right outside my door?”

      “Shel,” Dr. Tiegel began.

      “I’m pretty sure I told you about the experiments I can’t leave this morning.”

      “Yes, Shel, but—”

      “I mean, I have this memory of standing in your office and explaining why I couldn’t play lapdog to her Royal Annoyingness, right?”

      Dr. Tiegel winced and Jenny, who had been signaling the security team to put their guns away, suddenly stopped and looked as though she wished she had a gun of her own.

      As for Alex, she was having trouble looking away from the furious, infuriating Dr. Rivers. He was so tall and broad he filled the doorway, his cocoa-colored eyes were glaring at them from behind wire-rim frames, his lashes so long they nearly touched the glass. His long legs were showcased in shockingly tattered blue jeans and gaped at the waist; they were about two sizes too large. He was wearing a faded yellow T-shirt with the logo “Marine Biologists Get Wet.” No lab coat. His hair, light brown with sun-streaked highlights, stood up from his skull as if he’d been running his fingers through it. His lips were almost too thin, set in a scowl that made his mouth disappear, and his eyes were creased with what might have been laugh lines, but were probably frown lines.

      “Now get lost,” he said, and shut the door.

      On Alex’s foot.

      Chapter 7

      Shel Rivers looked down at the small foot wedged in his doorway, then up at the ridiculously good-looking woman attached to said foot. She didn’t look mad or pissed or haughty. Just had a patient look on her face, like “you’re gonna get this thing off my foot, right?” Finally, he said, “That’s a good way to break something,” after a moment that felt longer than it was.

      “Not before you get shot,” she replied, and shouldered her way past him. A good trick, since he had, at best estimation, four inches and thirty pounds on her. He got a whiff of eucalyptus as she brushed by, and he almost reached out to see if her black, shoulder-length hair was as silky as it looked. “Dr. Rivers and I will be right out,” she added, and closed the door on the protests of everyone else in the party.

      The princess (princess! in his lab!) looked around the small, cluttered room for a moment, her small hands on shapely hips. Then she glanced back at him. He actually forgot to breathe when those crystal blue eyes fixed on his.

      “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she said pleasantly.

      “And I don’t think your security team is going to like this at all.”

      “I’m Alexandria Baranov—”

      “I know.”

      “I’m talking now, please. And you’re Dr. Rivers. You’re also rude and annoying, which is fine, but nobody slams a door on me.”

      “Especially when your family built half the aquarium,” he snapped, trying not to look at her breasts.

      “Irrelevant.