A Royal Baby on the Way

Worlds and hearts collide in this beloved tale by New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery.

All-pomp-no-play Princess Alexandra Wyndham gets a royal wake-up call when a letter arrives at the palace, alleging the rightful heir to her throne is alive. Now she must travel to the ranch of the most majestic man she’s ever met. Cowboy Mitch Colton might be the key to finding her missing brother…if she can keep her focus on the search instead of the sexy rancher.

Mitch is tight-lipped when it comes to the whereabouts of his elusive stepbrother—the suspected long-lost heir!—but he grudgingly opens his home to Alexandra. He can’t seem to resist the regal beauty, and it isn’t long before he opens his heart to her, as well. But can their romance survive their abiding differences…and the revelation of a royal baby on the way?

A Royal Baby on the Way was originally part of the Royally Wed miniseries, which also featured the following titles:

Undercover Princess by Suzanne Brockmann

The Princess's White Knight by Carla Cassidy

The Pregnant Princess by Anne Marie Winston

Man…Mercenary…Monarch by Joan Elliott Pickart

A Royal Masquerade by Arlene James

A Royal Marriage by Cara Colter

A Royal Mission by Elizabeth August

The Expectant Princess by Stella Bagwell

The Blacksheep Prince's Bride by Martha Shields

Code Name: Prince by Valerie Parv

An Officer and a Princess by Carla Cassidy

A Royal Baby on the Way

Susan Mallery

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Excerpt

Copyright

Prologue

‘‘Alex, I think you should take a look at this.’’

Princess Alexandra Wyndham, the oldest of King Phillip’s four daughters, glanced up from the computer printout she’d been scanning. It was nearly eleven in the morning and she was, as usual, buried in her daily reports. The kingdom of Wynborough might not be huge, but it required a large staff to keep things running smoothly. Despite the efficiency of the palace’s employees and loyalty of the senior staff, Alex insisted on overseeing many things herself. She spent her mornings in her office, looking for potential problems and smoothing them out before anyone noticed they’d been there in the first place. Her afternoons and evenings were reserved for state functions and occasionally, very occasionally, time for herself.

Alex set down the papers and smiled at Laura Bishop, the social secretary who had been with the royal family for five years. ‘‘Another marriage proposal from an American rock star?’’ Alex asked. ‘‘While I don’t understand them, I do confess to being flattered. After all, I’ll be thirty next year. Not exactly the right age to be a bimbo.’’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘‘Is that term still in use or am I being old-fashioned again?’’

Laura grinned. ‘‘I think bimbo still works, although it’s not really appropriate when used to describe a princess.’’ Her smile faded. ‘‘No marriage proposal this time. It’s a little more serious than that. I didn’t know what to do with this.’’ She waved the single sheet of paper. ‘‘I thought about going to the king, but he and your mother are busy with plans for the celebration and I wasn’t sure….’’ Her voice trailed off.

Alex gave Laura her full attention. The royal social secretary was many wonderful things, including efficient. It wasn’t like her to be indecisive about anything.

‘‘All right,’’ Alex said slowly and held out her hand. When Laura gave her the letter, she scanned it quickly, then read it a second time. Her breath caught in her throat and her chest tightened. ‘‘Dear Lord, can this be right?’’

‘‘I don’t know,’’ Laura admitted.

Was it possible? Alex shook her head to clear it, but her confused thoughts refused to be put in order. What to do?

‘‘I’m glad you didn’t go to my parents,’’ Alex said slowly. ‘‘If it’s true, then it’s wonderful news, but if it isn’t, they could be devastated all over again. I don’t want that.’’

Laura nodded. ‘‘That’s what I thought, too. I don’t know the whole story, but I’ve read about the basics.’’

‘‘I don’t think anyone knows the whole story. That’s part of the problem.’’ She set the letter on her desk. ‘‘All right. Tell my sisters that I need to see them immediately.’’ She glanced at her slender, elegant gold watch. ‘‘Have them meet me for lunch in our private dining room at noon. I’ll tell the kitchen to have something simple sent up.’’ She looked at her friend. ‘‘I’ll want you to be there, too, Laura.’’

Laura stared back at her. ‘‘Are you sure? Isn’t this a family matter?’’

‘‘Yes, but I suspect we’re going to need your help. I have a couple of ideas. If my sisters agree with my plan, then you’ll be an important part of things.’’ Despite her shock, Alex managed a smile. ‘‘As usual.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’

After Laura left, Alex turned in her chair and stared out the window. The view was nearly as familiar as her own reflection. She’d spent many hours in this office, working, planning and, during rare moments of quiet, dreaming. While Wyndham Castle was a major tourist attraction, and even now a large group of visitors toured the manicured gardens below her third-story window, it was also her home. She’d been born here, grown up, played, laughed and cried, all within the confines of the old stone-and-wood structure. People she met often asked her what it was like to live in a castle, but for Alexandra it was all she’d ever known. If she occasionally wondered what it would be like to live a normal life, she reminded herself that she’d been blessed by her circumstances and her loving family. She had wonderful parents and three sisters with whom she was very close.

Without turning around, she reached behind her and picked up the letter Laura had brought her. As she fingered the inexpensive writing paper, she considered how she’d thought her future was set. Was that all about to change?

* * *

‘‘We should go skiing over the holidays,’’ Serena said as she scooped some chicken and mango salad onto her plate. She picked up a piece of mango and popped it in her mouth. Impish lights danced in her green eyes. ‘‘There are always so many good-looking men at the chalets and goodness knows you three all need to get married before you’re over the hill.’’

Alex looked at her baby sister and tried not to take the comment personally. As the oldest, she should be married first, and no doubt her parents would get around to arranging a match in the near future. But right now that was not her most pressing issue.

‘‘We have something more important to discuss,’’ Alex said as she glanced around the table.

A lace antique cloth protected the gleaming oval surface. Water, iced tea and soft drinks had been poured into crystal goblets. Alex sat at the head of the table with Serena and Laura to her left and Katherine and Elizabeth to her right.

‘‘You look serious,’’ Katherine said. ‘‘Is something wrong?’’

‘‘Not exactly.’’ Alex paused as she tried to figure out how best to share the news. ‘‘Laura opened a letter this morning and immediately brought it to me. I made the decision not to share the contents with our parents. They’re both busy with the business of running the kingdom, not to mention the celebration of Father’s twentieth year as monarch.’’

‘‘We know all this,’’ Serena said and rolled her eyes. ‘‘Alex, you could make a roller-coaster ride boring if you tried. What has you all in a huff? What’s in the letter?’’

Alex glanced at her other two sisters and saw them nod. She chose to believe they were encouraging her to read them the message and not agreeing with Serena’s assessment of her personality.

She pulled the single sheet of paper out of her jacket pocket and cleared her throat.

‘‘Dear Royal Family. I saw something on the news today about your king celebrating his kingship of your country. While I didn’t find this especially interesting, I happened to see a picture of the family crest—is that what it’s called? That shield with the thingamajigs? Anyway, seeing that reminded me of something that happened a long time ago.’’

Alex heard a catch of breath. She glanced up and saw all three of her sisters staring at her.

‘‘Nearly thirty years ago I was housekeeper for a place called The Sunshine Home for Children in Hope, Arizona. One day I noticed a real fine piece of linen in the laundry. It was some kind of blanket and I decided to take it for my own use. I knew it belonged to one of the children, but I didn’t think they would miss it. It was the nicest tea cozy I’d ever had and now I realize it had your crest on it. With all this fuss about the celebration and all, there have also been stories about your lost boy, James. It got me to thinking. Three boys came to The Sunshine Home that year around the time of the kidnapping. They were all the right age to be your boy. One of them could belong to your family. My memory’s not what it used to be and I can’t remember all of them, but I do sure recall John Colton. He was a real scrapper. I’m not saying John’s the one, but I’ll bet my last pair of boots that he would know where to find the others.’’

Alex put down the letter. ‘‘She signs it ‘Most Sincerely, Grandma Beulah Whitaker.’ Oh, and she would like a picture of the four princesses sent to her if we have time.’’

There was a moment of silence, then everyone started talking at once. It had taken Alex a few minutes to gather her own composure after absorbing the news, so she understood her sisters’ confusion and questions.

‘‘Do you think it’s really possible that James is alive?’’ Katherine asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘‘It’s been what, twenty-nine years? Could he have survived all that time and we never knew?’’

‘‘Let’s go to America and find him,’’ Serena said with a broad grin. ‘‘I’ll go. I can be ready to leave this afternoon.’’

Alex glared at her baby sister. There was no way she would trust that wild young woman alone in a foreign land. Given Serena’s determination to find romantic adventure, she would forget about looking for James and set about getting herself in trouble as quickly as possible.

‘‘First things first,’’ Alex said calmly. ‘‘Do you all agree with my decision to keep this from our parents? I don’t want to get their hopes up only to dash them again, but I would like to hear what you three think.’’

Katherine leaned toward her. Her gray eyes darkened with sadness. ‘‘None of us was born when they lost James, but I can imagine their pain. Mother hasn’t spoken about it much, but when she does mention those days after James was kidnapped, she always cries. They have both worked very hard to bring prosperity to Wynborough. As they prepare for the twentieth anniversary of Father’s coronation next year, they should be happy. Telling them about this letter will only distract them.’’

Elizabeth, normally a close and loving confidant for Alex, looked distracted. In the past couple of months, things had changed for the sister closest to her in age. Unfortunately Alex hadn’t figured out what, and Elizabeth resisted all her gentle questions.

Elizabeth focused on the issue at hand long enough to nod her agreement. ‘‘Katherine’s right. I don’t think either of them want to go through that pain again. We should investigate this ourselves.’’

Alex glanced at Laura. Her social secretary raised her hands. ‘‘I’m just the hired help. I’d prefer not to vote.’’

‘‘You’re more than that,’’ Serena said, giving Laura a quick hug. ‘‘You’re practically one of the family.’’ She grinned at Alex. ‘‘I say we find him ourselves and present him as a gift to Mother and Father. Their lost son returns home after twenty-nine years. Everyone will be so thrilled that there’s finally an heir.’’

Alex stiffened slightly at the words, then tried not to notice as everyone’s attention shifted to her. She knew what her sisters were thinking. That as the oldest, she’d taken on most of the responsibilities of heir. She worked hard and frequently traveled abroad to represent her country. But Wynborough law stated that the heir must be a son. While there had been some discussion about parliament changing the law, to date nothing had been done. After all, King Phillip was still in the prime of his life. There was no concern about the monarchy. But it left Alex in the awkward position of being a potential heir-in-waiting without knowing if that was going to happen.

That’s not important, she told herself, and firmly pushed those thoughts away. Right now she and her sisters had to concentrate on their brother. If James was still alive, how were they to find him?

‘‘Obviously we have to go to America,’’ Alex said. ‘‘That’s where the kidnapping occurred.’’

‘‘I could arrange a publicity tour,’’ Laura said. ‘‘There has been talk of bringing worldwide attention to King Phillip’s years as a successful monarch. If all four of you were willing to travel to the States, you could quietly inquire about your brother while promoting Wynborough and the king.’’

‘‘Of course we’ll go,’’ Serena said. ‘‘At least I will.’’

‘‘No one’s in doubt about that,’’ Alex said dryly. She glanced at Katherine and Elizabeth. ‘‘Is this all right with you two?’’

They both nodded. ‘‘I could use a change of scenery,’’ Elizabeth said.

Again Alex wondered what had happened to make her sister so quiet these days. But if Elizabeth didn’t want to talk, nothing was going to make her.

Alex opened the file next to her plate. ‘‘I think the best plan would be to start the investigation at the scene of the crime. James was kidnapped from the family home in Aspen, Colorado. While the place hasn’t been used in years, I checked and it has been maintained by caretakers. They could have it ready for us in two days—so that will be our base of operation. Laura will put together a publicity schedule that leaves us plenty of time to search. In fact, I intend to go to Arizona to talk with ‘Grandma Beulah’ as soon as we arrive in the States.’’

Katherine leaned forward. Like all the sisters, her hair was a variation on the theme of red. She had thick chestnut hair and wide gray eyes. Sensible as always, she asked, ‘‘How on earth are we going to get our parents to agree to this? They’ve never wanted us to visit America before. Do you really think they’ll let all four of us go there?’’

‘‘Let me handle that,’’ Alex said. ‘‘Laura and I will come up with something. You just get ready to leave.’’

Serena bounced to her feet. ‘‘I’m going to Disneyland.’’

‘‘Not if any of us can help it,’’ Elizabeth murmured under her breath as she stood up.

‘‘Okay, then New York or California or Las Vegas.’’

Alex drew in a deep breath and told herself to remain calm. Serena was a handful and she was going to require around-the-clock watching. ‘‘Make a note,’’ she told Laura as they left the small dining room. ‘‘Put extra security on Serena.’’

‘‘Gabriel Morgan’s our man,’’ Laura said. ‘‘Plus, he’s American, so he’ll be most at home.’’

‘‘Good. The last thing we need is a wild princess on the loose.’’

‘‘What about Elizabeth and Katherine? Or for that matter, you?’’

Alex laughed. ‘‘As if anything would ever happen to us. I promise you that except for possibly finding our long-lost brother, nothing exciting is going to happen while we’re in America.’’

Chapter One

Mitch Colton could smell trouble a mile away…or right in his own driveway. Especially when it came packaged in a sleek, midnight-blue Jaguar. He’d been on his way into the house after spending the morning in the barn with a sick cow when the sound of a car engine had caught his attention. And not just any car engine, but one belonging to an elegantly beautiful sports car.

He stared as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the wide porch that encircled the low, one-story ranch house. While he could admire the sleek lines of the car, he didn’t get the point. Sure, he could buy one, or even a dozen if he was so inclined, but he lived on a working ranch, and a car like that wasn’t practical.

Neither was the leggy redhead stepping out from behind the wheel.

Mitch blinked. Redhead? As in a woman? He looked closer. Yup, and to quote his father, she was a looker. Well dressed in a toast-colored sweater dress, the hem of which flirted with her calves. She was slender, with plenty on top to capture any man’s interest. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but enough of her face showed to convince him that she was somewhere between very pretty and knock-out gorgeous. Long, auburn curls fell down her back. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon, he thought.

‘‘Good afternoon,’’ the woman said as she approached the porch. ‘‘Are you Mitch Colton?’’

He frowned. She sounded funny. Almost English, but not quite. She sure as hell wasn’t from around here. He pushed his hat farther back on his head, propped one foot on the porch railing, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his raised thigh.

‘‘That depends on who’s doing the asking.’’

He’d half expected her to get annoyed, but she surprised him by smiling. ‘‘Don’t you sound like the local sheriff in a Western movie. All right, cowboy, we’ll do this your way.’’ She pulled off her sunglasses, extended her hand and approached the porch. ‘‘I’m Alex Wyndham. If you are Mitch Colton, I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.’’

He’d been holding his own, right up until she smiled and removed her sunglasses. The one-two punch of full lips curving in delight and baby-blue eyes hit him like whisky on an empty stomach. He straightened, swore silently, then leaned down to take her fingers in his. Even though he braced for the impact, the not-so-unexpected jolt of awareness crackled down to his toes. On the return trip, it settled somewhere a tad more interesting. Geez. All this over one little smile. Imagine what would happen to his body if she laughed, or God forbid, made that throaty purring sound women were so good at when they wanted a man.

He straightened and cleared his throat. ‘‘Ma’am.’’

Her smile broadened. ‘‘Ma’am. I’m sure you’re using that mode of address for different reasons than is normally the case. But I like it.’’

Okay, now he was officially lost. ‘‘What are you talking about?’’

‘‘Nothing. I’m just savoring the moment. Here I am having a real conversation with a real cowboy. You are a cowboy, aren’t you?’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ He drew the single syllable out a couple of beats, then sighed. He didn’t like the new direction of their conversation. ‘‘You’re not some buckle bunny out looking for a ride, are you? I didn’t do that kind of thing when I was a kid, and I’m sure as hell not going to do it now.’’

Her delicate eyebrows pulled together in a frown. She had the most perfect skin he’d ever seen. Except maybe on a baby’s butt. Faint color stained her cheeks, but he would have bet a prime steer or two that it was natural, not out of a compact. Her eyes were large, her lashes dark. High cheekbones and a pointed chin focused attention on her full mouth. Dress her up in some leather and lace and she would look like the poster girl for sin.

‘‘Buckle bunny?’’ His guest shook her head. ‘‘Are you talking about a rabbit? Don’t you have cattle on this ranch? I didn’t know anyone bred rabbits out West. Is there a market for them?’’

‘‘What are you talking about?’’ he asked. Rabbits? Was she crazy?

‘‘Rabbits. You mentioned them. Well, you actually said bunnies, but aren’t they the same thing? Are we having trouble communicating?’’

‘‘One of us is.’’ He folded his arms over his chest and glared down at her. Was she being dumb on purpose? ‘‘Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, lady.’’

She flashed him another smile. ‘‘Actually, I’m looking for your brother. John Colton. Could you tell me where he is?’’

While her conversation about rabbits had done a whole bunch to dilute his desire, her question squashed the last, lingering flicker of interest. Over the years he’d come to terms with his relationship with his brother, but he refused to be attracted to one of John’s old lovers.

He raked his gaze over her, starting at her expensive boots and ending at the riot of curls on the top of her head. ‘‘First of all, I don’t give out personal information to strangers. Second, you don’t look like his type.’’

‘‘Type?’’

The woman stared at him blankly. She repeated the word again, silently, as if trying to figure out what he meant. Her surprise was so genuine, he had to reassess his opinion of her.

‘‘You think we were involved?’’ she asked, faintly bewildered. ‘‘Oh, my. No, it’s not that at all.’’

But before she could explain exactly what their relationship was, or he could ask, a black sedan pulled into his yard and parked behind the Jag. Must be his day for company, he thought as two men in dark suits stepped out of the car.

Mitch might have spent most of his life either on the ranch or the rodeo circuit, but he knew security people when he saw them. The not-so-subtle bulges under their left arms came from handguns, not muscles.

‘‘You’ve got my attention now, lady,’’ he said.

‘‘Alex,’’ she murmured as she turned to look at the two strangers. ‘‘Just plain Alex.’’

He ignored her statement, mostly because it didn’t make sense. Interestingly enough, the two thugs were ignoring him, too. What was going on?

‘‘Why don’t you tell me who you are and what the hell you’re doing here?’’ Mitch asked.

One of the security men looked up and nodded politely, then spoke to the woman. ‘‘Princess Alexandra, you know you’re not allowed to go off unescorted. You’ve only been in this country a short time and you’re not familiar with the driving laws, nor will you know how to communicate with the local citizens.’’

‘‘They’re just people, Rowan. I’ve been communicating just fine.’’ The woman laughed.

How nice that she was amused, Mitch thought. Then he replayed the man’s statement a couple of dozen times in his brain. Princess Alexandra? Had he really said Princess?

‘‘No way,’’ he muttered, mostly to himself. ‘‘Not a real princess.’’

Alex, or Princess Alexandra or whomever she was, turned to face him and shrugged. ‘‘Sorry, yes. I’m a real princess. I have a king and queen for parents, three princesses for sisters. There’s even a palace.’’

His mind went blank. All he could do was stand there and repeat the same thing over and over again. ‘‘A princess? A real princess?’’ She didn’t look like a princess, he thought, staring at her dress and then her face. There wasn’t any crown or whatever it was princesses wore. ‘‘This is a joke, right?’’