The Making of a Princess. Teresa Carpenter

The exhibit is lovely.” She gestured to the newspaper she’d brought with her. “The preview is a great success. You must be proud to be trusted with your country’s treasures. Your Prince must have great faith in you.”

      He was silent for a moment and she worried she might have insulted him. But then he leaned forward as he reached for her hand and played with her fingers.

      “That is exactly so. Though many people have felt that it was a lowly assignment.”

      “I can’t see you ever being given a lowly assignment.”

      He smiled, this time with both his eyes and mouth. She felt he’d given her a special gift.

      “A soldier does both the big and the small, because it is all necessary to complete the mission. Of all the generations in my family, I made Commandant at the youngest age.”

      “And that’s an accomplishment?” she asked, though she could see it was.

      “Yes. My father is proud of me, my grandfather a little upset.”

      She laughed and pointed at him. “And you are happy with both reactions.”

      He shrugged, but a small smile curved the corner of his mouth. “For six generations a son in my father’s line has joined the Republican Guard. My family is proud of the exemplary service they have provided to the crown. It is important I demonstrate great skills to honor the Prince’s faith in me, and my family before me.”

      “Wow. But no pressure, right?” He spoke with pride, but there was something, an underlying tension she picked up on that made her wonder if there was more to his story. It prompted her to ask, “What would you do if you weren’t a soldier?”

      His expression went blank. She actually felt the question stunned him. He shrugged. “An engineer, perhaps, because I have always liked knowing how things work. However, there was never any question of this. It is my duty and my privilege to serve the Prince.” He inclined his head again. “But I am a boring topic. We shall speak of you now. What is it you do, Amanda Carn?”

      “I’m the assistant curator for the Children’s Museum of Art and Science.” She lifted her orange juice. “I just celebrated my first year anniversary.”

      “Congratulations.” He touched his mug to her glass.

      “A royal guard!” She exclaimed as a thought came to her. “That’s perfect. We’re doing career presentations at the museum all this month. Would you be willing to come and talk to the kids?”

      He considered her for a moment. “When do you have these talks?”

      “Tuesdays at four in the afternoon. Please say you’ll think about it.”

      “I will look at my schedule.” He promised. “So you like children. Do you have any of your own?”

      “No. But I’m an honorary aunt.” It thrilled her to say so. “Michelle, you met her last night, is marrying a man who has a child.”

      “She is brave to take on a ready-made family.”

      “Funny, I think she’s lucky.” And he’d hit on another of her fantasies, a big happy family. “I can tell you she’s very much in love.”

      “Then she is, indeed, lucky.” He said it simply, sincerely. She liked that he didn’t jeer.

      “Do you have children?” Turnabout was fair play.

      “No. I have never been married.”

      An interesting response. Was he just sharing information, or were children and marriage linked in his mind? “Do you feel one is a pre-requisite for the other?”

      “In my family it always has been. Plus, Pasadonia is a small country. We are not as progressive as the United States.”

      “Not everyone here is open-minded. I was raised by my grandparents. They’re not very progressive at all.”

      “I understand. My mother would be disappointed in me if I did not treat a woman with respect in all things.”

      “She sounds like a strong woman.” Amanda worked hard to keep the wistfulness from her voice. Her biggest regret in life was never knowing her mother. Her parents.

      “She is tough. But she has a huge heart. She is the soul of our family.” He set his empty mug on the table. “Why were you raised by your grandparents?”

      “They’re all the family I have. My mother died when I was just a baby.”

      He watched her intently, his honey brown eyes focused completely on her. “I am sorry. You must miss her every day.”

      She nodded, a lump forming in her throat at his simple understanding. Even though she’d never known her mother, Amanda did miss her every day.

      “And what of your father? You have not mentioned him.”

      She sighed. She hadn’t known him either, and yes she felt the hole he left in her life, but he was such a mystery that’s all she usually focused on. Except for those bitter, lonely minutes when she speculated he must be dead, too. Otherwise why wasn’t she with him? Why didn’t he come for her?

      Xavier leaned forward, his interest apparent. And heady. Especially after the university boys she was used to.

      Pleased by his undivided attention, she revealed more than she normally might.

      “I don’t know my father,” she declared. “My mother never told my grandparents who he was.”

      “How difficult for you. I cannot imagine not knowing one of my parents. Have you made any effort to find him?”

      Xavier felt like a thief stealing an innocent woman’s secrets. He was a soldier, dammit, not a spy. He did not care for the subterfuge required for this assignment. He already knew the answer to all the questions he’d asked. He’d had a complete dossier of her in his hands before the exhibit ended last night.

      After he sent the picture of Amanda to his Prince, His Highness admitted he’d met and wooed an American or two in his early twenties. The Prince also had a copy of the dossier and had viewed a picture of Haley Carn, Amanda’s mother. He admitted she looked familiar but could not state with certainty that he knew her twenty-six years ago.

      He requested Xavier obtain and forward a DNA sample to Pasadonia. In the meantime he was to maintain surveillance and gather more information.

      It was the thing of nightmares.

      She shook her head in answer to his question. “I’ve thought of looking for him, but it always upset my grandmother so much when I asked that I stopped probing.”

      “So your choice is to give up your search or cause your grandmother distress.”

      Perhaps if she were a different person he’d find it easier. But he liked her. He found her refreshing, honest, giving, surprisingly bold. And loyal. She’d given up a personal quest to soothe the sensibilities of her grandmother.

      “There was no reason to upset her over something I may never know the truth of. But now I’m out on my own, I may try to find out something more.”

      “Do you have a clue where to look?”

      He disliked deceiving her. His gaze landed on her full lips. Especially when he’d prefer to spend time with her for an entirely different reason.

      Duty demanded his cooperation, so he would do as his Prince, his friend, requested. It was Xavier’s hope that he would quickly be able to prove that her resemblance to the royal family was simply a coincidence.

      And then they could move on. She’d be none the wiser, and he’d spend the remainder of his time in this country pleasantly occupied in getting to know her better.

      “I think I might. When I was getting ready to move, I took some stuff up to the attic to store. I started to poke around a little, and I found