Claiming His Secret Royal Heir. Nina Milne

it was right and safe for Amil.

      ‘I’ll just grab a coat and we can go.’

      ‘A coat?’

      ‘It’s monsoon season.’

      Sunita turned, opened the door, and slipped inside, her mind racing to formulate a plan. She’d always been able to think on her feet, after all. If Frederick wanted a solution to the mystery of her disappearance from the modelling scene, then that was what she would provide.

      Grabbing her phone, she pressed speed dial and waited.

      ‘Sunita?’

      ‘Hey, Sam. I need a favour. A big favour.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      FREDERICK WATCHED AS she opened the door and sidled out. Coatless, he couldn’t help but notice. What was going on? Anyone would think she had the Lycander Crown Jewels tucked away in there. Hell, maybe she did. Or maybe something was wrong.

      Disquiet flickered and he closed it down. He’d vowed emotion would not come into play here. He and Sunita were history—the sole reason for his presence was to ensure no scandal would touch Lycander and topple him, Humpty Dumpty-style.

      They exited the building and emerged onto the heat-soaked pavement, thronged with an almost impossible mass of people, alive with the shouts of the hawkers who peddled their wares and the thrum of the seemingly endless cars that streamed along the road. Horns blared, and the smell of cumin, coriander and myriad spices mingled with the delicate scents of the garlands of flowers on offer and the harsher fumes of pollution.

      Sunita walked slightly ahead, and he took the opportunity to study her. The past two years had done nothing to detract from her beauty—her hair shone with a lustre that should have the manufacturer of whatever brand of shampoo she used banging at her door, and her impossibly long legs and slender waist were unchanged.

      Yet there was a difference. The Sunita he’d known had dressed to be noticed, but today her outfit was simple and anonymous—cut-off jeans, a loose dark blue T-shirt and blue sandals. It was an ensemble that made her blend in with the crowd. Even the way she walked seemed altered—somehow different from the way she had once sashayed down the catwalk.

      Once.

      And therein lay the crux of the matter. The more he thought about it, the more he recalled the vibrant, publicity-loving, career-orientated Sunita he’d known, the less possible it seemed that she had traded the life path she’d planned for an anonymous existence. His research of the past two days had confirmed that mere weeks after Sunita had ended their association she’d thrown it all away and melted into obscurity.

      ‘How did you find me?’

      ‘It wasn’t easy.’

      Or so Marcus had informed him. Sunita’s agent had refused point-blank to respond to his discreet enquiries, but Marcus had ways and means, and had eventually procured the address through ‘contacts’—whatever that meant.

      ‘Was it my agent? Was it Harvey?’

      ‘No. But whoever it was I promise you they did you a favour.’

      ‘Some favour.’

      ‘You mean you aren’t happy to see me?’ he deadpanned.

      A shadow of a smile threatened to touch her lips and he fought the urge to focus on those lips in more detail.

      ‘Pass.’

      Raising an arm, she hailed a taxi and they waited until the yellow and black vehicle had screeched through the traffic to stop by the kerb.

      Once inside she leant forward to speak to the driver. ‘Sunshine Café, please,’ she said, and then sat back. ‘I’m taking you to meet the solution to your mystery. The reason I stayed in India.’

      Her eyes slid away from him for a fraction of a second and then back again as she inhaled an audible breath.

      ‘His name is Sam Matthews. He used to be a photographer, but he’s moved here and set up a beach café.’

      ‘A boyfriend?’

      Such a simple answer—Sunita had given it all up for love. A small stab of jealousy pierced his ribcage, caught him unawares. Get real, Frederick. So what if she walked straight into someone else’s arms, into the real thing? That had never been his destiny. Know your limitations. Easy come, easy go. Two stellar life mottos.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Must be some boyfriend to have persuaded you to throw away your career. You told me once that nothing was more important to you than success.’

      ‘I meant it at the time.’

      ‘So you gave up stardom and lucre for love.’

      A small smile touched her lips. ‘Yes, I did.’

      ‘And you’re happy? Sam makes you happy?’

      Her hands twisted on her lap in a small convulsive movement. She looked down as if in surprise, then back up as she nodded. ‘Yes.’

      A spectrum of emotion showed in her brown eyes—regret, guilt, defiance,—he couldn’t settle on what it was, and then it was gone.

      ‘I’m happy.’

      Job done. Sunita had a boyfriend and she’d moved on with her life. There was no dangerous scandal to uncover. A simple case of over-vigilance from his chief advisor. He could stop the taxi now and return to his hotel.

      Yet...something felt off. He could swear Sunita was watching him, assessing his reactions. Just like two years ago when she’d called it a day. Or maybe it was his own ego seeing spectres—perhaps he didn’t want to believe another woman had ricocheted from him to perfect love. Sunita to Sam, Kaitlin to Daniel—there was a definite pattern emerging.

      He glanced out of the window at the busy beach, scattered with parasols and bodies, as the taxi slowed to a halt.

      ‘We’re here,’ she announced.

      What the hell? He might as well meet this paragon who had upended Sunita’s plans, her career, her life, in a way he had not.

      Damn it. There was that hint of chagrin again. Not classy, Frederick. Not royal behaviour.

      Minutes later they approached a glass-fronted restaurant nestled at the corner of a less populated section of sand, under the shade of two fronded palms. Once inside, Frederick absorbed the warm yet uncluttered feel achieved by the wooden floor, high exposed beam ceiling and polished wooden tables and slatted chairs. A long sweeping bar added to the ambience, as did the hum of conversation.

      Sunita moved forward. ‘Hey, Sam.’

      Frederick studied the man who stood before them. There was more than a hint of wariness in his eyes and stance. Chestnut wavy hair, average height, average build, light brown eyes that returned his gaze with an answering assessment.

      Sunita completed the introduction. ‘Sam, Frederick—Frederick, Sam. Right, now that’s done...’

      ‘Perhaps you and I could have a drink and a catch-up? For old times’ sake.’

      The suggestion brought on by an instinctive unease, augmented by the look of reluctance on her face. Something wasn’t right. She hadn’t wanted him to so much as peek into her apartment, and she could have simply told him about Sam. Instead she’d brought him here to see him, as if to provide tangible proof of his existence.

      ‘Sure.’ Sunita glanced at her watch. ‘But I can’t be too long.’

      Sam indicated a staircase. ‘There’s a private room you can use upstairs, if you want to chat without attracting attention.’

      ‘Great. Thank you,’ Frederick said, and stepped back to allow the couple to walk together.