Matrimony With His Majesty. Rebecca Winters

engagement to Isabella. It wouldn’t be long before he was a married man. He hadn’t been able to put it off any longer. If it had been up to Isabella, they’d have said their vows several years earlier.

      His alliance with the princess of San Ravino, Italy, would cement certain lucrative business relationships Alex’s father had instigated with the king of San Ravino when Alex had been in his mid-teens.

      On his father’s death bed he’d said, “A king needs a wife, Alex, and your mother needs a grandchild. Isabella is an intelligent, beautiful woman and will give you children you can be proud of.”

      Admittedly Isabella with her black hair turned heads. Nine years younger than Alex, she would be biddable and make the perfect consort. Alex agreed the princess had qualities he admired. There’d be no surprises. Everyone was excited for the wedding. Everyone except him…

      With a jerking motion he upended the envelope. Out spilled four photos of a man’s gold ring taken at different angles.

      As Leo had said, the colorful enamel work showing the Valleder coat of arms appeared on pins, rings, virtually any piece of jewelry a tourist could take home as a reminder of their trip to the heart of the Swiss Alps.

      The last photograph revealed the inscription on the inner band in the Puter dialect. Alex looked closer.

      More than a cousin.

      He closed his eyes tightly in pain.

      This was the ring his deceased cousin, Chaz, had given him on his sixteenth birthday—the same ring he’d somehow parted with during a certain vacation to Colorado when he and Chaz had turned twenty. On that trip his cousin had urged him to forget he was a royal and simply live it up like they were two ordinary guys.

      Alex sprang from his swivel chair, hardly able to comprehend that the young woman he’d given it to under fuzzy circumstances could be the woman who’d come to the castle trying to arrange a meeting with him.

      These photos were the proof that something of significance had happened on that trip. He didn’t like what he was thinking, especially when his recollection of those events was a blur. This had to be an extortion tactic.

      With no time to lose he pressed the programmed digit on his cell phone. It was his private line to Leo.

      “Yes, Alex?”

      “You’ve more than earned your pay today, my friend.”

      “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

      Alex wished he knew. “It’s my ring, Leo. One I parted with a long time ago, but the memory is hazy.” Since that experience he’d done everything in his power to be a good king, including agreeing to marry the princess his parents favored. No hint of scandal had touched his life until now, less than a month before his wedding…

      “When exactly?” the other man fired.

      “Thirteen years ago while I was on a trip, Chaz and I spent a wild night drinking with some girls. Things got out of control. I’d forgotten until I saw the photos.”

      Leo let out a low whistle. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

      “Don’t be fooled. I have a few skeletons lying around.”

      His friend made a strange sound in his throat. “This one might have come back to bite you, if you follow my meaning.”

      “I know exactly what you mean.”

      Depending on this woman’s agenda, she could hurt him and the people he loved in ways he refused to let happen.

      There was a palpable silence, then Leo asked, “How can I help? I’ve done everything to keep this suppressed, but you never know.”

      “Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I’m going on a private fishing expedition, Leo. Alert your most trusted men to board my jet within the hour. The second this woman’s flight leaves the ground, I want to be notified.”

      “Consider it done.” After another silence, “Alex—”

      “I know what you’re going to say, Leo. But I’m afraid the time for damage control was years ago.”

      By the time Darrell Collier’s jet landed at the Denver airport, she’d cried all the tears she was going to cry. Her final, fool-hardy attempt to unite her adopted son with his phantom father had completely failed. To her deep-felt sorrow, Phillip would never know the name or the whereabouts of the man who’d impregnated Darrell’s sister before disappearing from her life.

      Deprived of the father he’d never known, Phillip was entering his teens with a giant chip on his shoulder.

      Darrell loved him with her whole heart and soul, but his anger at fate had made him so difficult to handle these days, she realized she needed to get professional help for him.

      Things were building to a crisis state. She felt more helpless now than when Melissa had died after giving birth twelve years ago, leaving Darrell to raise her sweet little dark-blond boy alone.

      It had been the two of them against the world.

      After her final effort to make contact with his father, it was still the two of them forging ahead alone. That was the way it would always be.

      She could only hope that in time he would let the anger go and embrace his life. He had everything to live for, but right now he couldn’t see beyond the unfairness of an existence without a dad. Emotionally he reminded her of Melissa, who’d also felt deprived because of a car accident that had robbed them of their parents.

      Her pain had turned her into a willful and tempestuous teen their grandmother couldn’t handle. It appeared history would be repeating itself unless Darrell took an active stance to help Phillip before it was too late.

      Having a plan was better than no plan, she told herself as she took the train to get her luggage. After retrieving it, she left the terminal and headed for the parking lot, anxious to get home. She’d been gone three days and missed him horribly. She couldn’t wait to pick him up.

      Eventually she reached her compact car. As she was putting her suitcase in the trunk, two men suddenly appeared out of nowhere dressed in shirt sleeves and Jamaica shorts.

      “Ms. Collier?”

      Though it was midafternoon and there were other people around, she suddenly felt nervous. “Yes?”

      They flashed her their photo ID cards.

      FBI?

      “If you’ll come with us, we’ll take you to a place where you can meet with the king of Valleder in private.”

      Darrell was convinced she was hallucinating. After the balmy temperatures in Switzerland, this long walk in the sweltering one hundred degree July heat must have gotten to her.

      “The king is here? In Denver?”

      “Yes, ma’am. He’s made it possible for you to discuss a certain private matter with him.”

      The other federal agent handed her the envelope containing the photos she’d left with the police in the capital city of Bris.

      So he had recognized the ring.

      After giving up all hope, she was incredulous this was happening now. In a daze she slowly shut the trunk lid.

      “The king is waiting. We’ll bring you back to your car later.”

      The next few minutes passed in a blur as she was helped into the back seat of an unmarked car. One of the agents sat next to her. The other sat in front next to the driver. At a glance she realized there were several unmarked cars with agents forming a cortege.

      The driver left the airport and took the E470, a toll road that eventually led to the Centennial Airport where the private jets landed. They wound around to a gleaming white jet with the Valleder royal coat of arms on the side.

      She saw the stairs being lowered.