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The prince’s wish is her command!
REBECCA WINTERS JENNIE ADAMS MARION LENNOX
Wedding
Vows Say I Do
Matrimony with
his Majesty
Rebecca Winters
Invitation to the
Prince’s Palace
Jennie Adams
The Prince’s
Outback Bride
Marion Lennox
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Matrimony with his Majesty
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
Invitation to the Prince’s Palace
About the Author
Dedication
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
EPILOGUE
The Prince’s Outback Bride
About the Author
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Copyright
Matrimony with his Majesty
Rebecca Winters
REBECCA WINTERS lives in Salt Lake City, Utah. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and church.
Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website at: cleanromances.com.
CHAPTER ONE
“SINCE the last two major college riots, we have to take what happened today seriously, Alex. I’m urging you to move yourself and your loved ones to one of your residences in the mountains away from the public where you’re not so vulnerable.”
“We’ve been over this ground before, Leo. I refuse to let fear rule our lives.”
“Then at least consider permanently closing off public access to the castle and estate. There are too many radical student elements out there wanting to bring down the monarchy. They never stop thinking up new and ingenious ways to wreak havoc for the sheer hell of it.”
“I agree there have always been those fringe elements in society, but I’d rather employ more security than shut myself off from the people.”
In Alex’s six years as king of the Romanche-speaking Valleder Canton in Switzerland, Leo had kept everyone safe, freeing Alex to attempt to do the job his father had done so superbly over a thirty-year period as sovereign.
He eyed Leo, the forty-year-old widower who’d been Interpol’s top agent before becoming Alex’s head of state security. They’d grown to be close friends.
“Tell me what happened.”
“An extremely attractive American woman came through on the 10:00 a.m. tour of the castle. After it was over she told the guide she had business with you and asked that she be given an audience on a private matter. When told you didn’t meet with the public she said, ‘Not even if I have something of value to return to him?’
“Naturally the guide called for security. They brought her by police car to the downtown office. During my interrogation she said she had a ring of yours and knew you would want it back.”
“A ring?”
Alex shook his head. “Where do these crazies come from? The only ring I have is the one my father gave me prior to his death six years ago. You’re looking at it.”
Leo folded his arms. “It’s obvious the woman intentionally created a scene to see what would happen, and of course she got her wish.
“She was searched and her passport seized. When I asked to see the ring, she said she hadn’t brought it with her because it was too valuable. But she had photos of it in the purse we confiscated.”
A sound of incredulity escaped Alex’s lips.
“This woman knew she would be detained and questioned. I’m positive she wanted to see how our security system works at the castle. Since the last demonstrators’ attempt to storm the north gate, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility they’re hatching another plan to get the whole canton’s attention and stir up trouble. Frankly I don’t like it. Especially with your wedding only three weeks away.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Alex admitted in a grim tone. If any of those incidents had hurt one of his family, he’d never forgive himself for not taking greater precautions. Thankfully Leo had been on top of things.
“What do you know about her?”
“She’s a resident of Aurora, Colorado, named Darrell Collier.”
Colorado?
Alex had been there, but he’d also been to several of the states in the U.S., even lived for a short period in Arizona.
“The woman is traveling alone under a newly issued American passport. She’s never applied for one before. Her nonstop flight to Zurich originated in Denver, Colorado, yesterday morning.
“When she deplaned, the douanier asked her the reason for her visit. She said she was taking a short vacation. She rented a car and drove here last night where she stayed at the Hotel Otter. This morning she showed up for the tour.
“I checked her employment. She works for Gold Jet Airlines in the States making reservations. There’s no police record on her, no outstanding warrants for her arrest in the U.S.
“I suppose she could be someone with a mental condition who stopped taking her medication. But my gut is telling me she’s very much in her right mind and working for some anti-royal group trying to discover the castle’s vulnerabilities.
“How many tourists traveling alone go straight from the plane to one castle for a short visit? It just doesn’t add up. So far she’s been calm and cooperative. She’s one cool customer.”
“In other words she’s willing to sacrifice herself for information,” Alex muttered.
The other man cast him a shrewd regard. “She hasn’t committed a crime and knew we had to release her. She’s been escorted back to the airport in Zurich. I’ve already alerted the American authorities. Once her flight leaves for the States, they’ll keep tabs on her. It’s the best we can do about her for now. My main concern is you and your family.”
That was twice in few minutes he’d talked about Alex’s family. Leo had more than a passing interest in Alex’s cousin-in-law Evelyn who lived on the estate and had lost her husband. Nothing would please him more than to see the two of them get together. But since Evelyn was a royal, Leo would never dare to presume.
“Greater measures need to be taken to protect all of you,” Leo emphasized again.
Alex decided to help things along. “Let’s double the security on the whole estate. It wouldn’t hurt if you went along with Evelyn the next time she goes riding or shopping. Warn her and the boys to be extra careful. Coming from you personally, she’ll take it better than from me.”
“I’ll be happy to do that,” he answered in a calm voice, but Alex saw the flare of excitement in his eyes. “This is a start in the right direction. I’ll take care of it immediately.”
As he stood up, he put an eight by ten envelope on the desk in front of Alex. “These are enlarged copies of the colored photos of the ring which could have been purchased in any of the canton’s souvenir shops. There’s an inscription on the band in Romanche, but the sentiment doesn’t send up any red flags. My men are tracking down the regional jeweler as we speak.
“Like I said, she came to the castle with a definite agenda.”
After he left the room, Alex reached for the envelope whose contents served as a reminder of his official 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. Security people were everywhere.
One of them greeted her after she’d gotten out of the car. Another stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“His Majesty is just inside. Go ahead.”
Feeling she was in some sort of trance, Darrell climbed the steps, wondering if she’d wake up before she reached the opening.
“Oh—” she cried softly when a well honed male who stood six foot three stepped out from the interior.
He was a stranger, yet because of certain physical traits that reminded her of Phillip, he looked familiar, too.
A relentless afternoon sun gilded the natural highlights of his wavy dark-blond hair.
The Internet pictures of the king of Valleder could never do justice to his rugged masculine appeal, let alone capture the intensity of his unique hazel eyes.
His gaze traveled over her classic features that hadn’t seen makeup in twelve hours. It lingered on her puffy, tear-swollen eyes the color of drenched pansies. With her shoulder-length ash-blond hair needing a shampoo, and her aqua blouse and skirt looking less than fresh, she’d never felt a bigger mess.
The realization that she was standing before the king she’d risked a great deal to meet was so surreal, she couldn’t think clearly.
He had her at a distinct disadvantage. As his gaze swept over her feminine attributes, heat rose through her body from her curling toes to the crown of her head.
Compelled by a force stronger than her will, her gaze took in his white sport shirt covering a well-defined chest. He wore tan chinos that molded his rock-hard legs, hinting at powerful thighs.
Looking at him made her realize that one day her tall, lanky son would resemble his attractive father in quite a few ways.
“Ms. Collier, I presume?”
Still in disbelief that he’d flown all this way, she was too tongue-tied to think with any coherence. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I know you’re the king, but I—I don’t know what to call you,” she stammered in embarrassment.
“I realize the situation is foreign to you. Under the circumstances just call me Alex. It appears we have something important to discuss. Please come in.” He spoke impeccable English with virtually no trace of accent.
Once over the threshold, she entered a world where only the privileged conducted business thousands of miles above the earth. Besides everything else, the air-conditioning was heavenly.
He led her to a room with a grouping of furniture much like an elegant den. The second she sat down on one of the couches, a steward appeared with a tray of drinks. She chose cola, then sat on the edge of the luxurious white upholstery unable to relax. Again she had the feeling she was existing in another state of consciousness.
He took a chair opposite her, the picture of urbane sophistication while he drank coffee.
“Why don’t we start by you telling me how you came by that ring.”
He’d come straight to the point, not appearing worried about the history behind it.
Her heart pounded so hard she was certain he could hear it in the confines of the room.
“My sister entrusted it to me.”
He put the coffee cup on a side table and leaned forward. “What’s her name?”
How strange to be talking about her sister, the woman he’d enamored to the point she would have done anything for him, and did.
“Melissa Collier. Does that mean anything to you?”
He eyed her with an enigmatic expression. “I’m sorry to say it doesn’t.”
His response came as no surprise to Darrell. After thirteen years, how many men in his position remembered the names of the girls they’d been with for a one-night stand? Particularly a rebellious yet vulnerable teen like Melissa. She’d probably made up a fake name so she wouldn’t get into trouble with the management where she worked.
He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, mesmerizing Darrell. “Why didn’t she come to Bris?”
Darrell drew in a shaky breath. “Because she died twelve years ago.”
Lines darkened his striking features. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, sounding surprisingly sincere.
“So am I.” Her voice faltered.
“How did she die?”
There’s your opening, Darrell.
Yet oddly enough she found herself unable to go on. No matter how long she’d prayed for this moment for Phillip’s sake, what the king was about to hear was going to change his life. She found she couldn’t do this to him. The shock would be too enormous to any man, let alone a king—What had she been thinking?
“It doesn’t really matter. All I know is, she wanted you to have the ring back because she knew it was valuable.”
“The ring has gotten my attention. Now I want to know what’s behind it.”
Darrell felt ill. “I—I made a mistake coming to Switzerland. Haven’t you ever made one?” she cried in panic. “Let me just get the ring for you and then you can go home and we’ll forget this ever happened. Please—”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt—”
She had to get out of there, but before she reached the doorway, he said, “The best way to hurt me is to make a scene in front of my staff. Why don’t you sit down and answer my question about your sister.”
Realizing he wouldn’t go away until he knew the truth, Darrell wiped her eyes and finally did his bidding.
“Two days after she gave birth to an eight-pound boy, a brain aneurism took her life.”
A pulsating silence filled the cabin.
His body didn’t move, but she saw a flicker in the depths of his eyes, turning them the green of a stormy ocean.
“Do you have pictures of them on you?”
She’d thought he’d deny it was his son, or at least question her outrageous suggestion that he might have been the father.
He did neither. Instead he’d responded in a forthright manner that astounded her.
“I have a packet in my wallet. The photo of Melissa is her junior year high school picture. The rest are pictures of my son taken on every birthday in case I ever found his father and he wanted to see them.”
One dark brow lifted. “Your son?”
“Yes. I adopted him.”
“You never married?”
“No.”
Her hands trembled as she opened her purse and pulled the packet from her wallet.
He got up and reached for it.
She held her breath while he stood there with his legs slightly apart, studying each photograph with an intensity that held her spellbound.
The likeness of his son to him couldn’t be disputed.
“What day was he born?”
“February 27. He’ll be thirteen on his next birthday.”
He examined the pictures for a long time. “What did you name him?” His voice revealed a husky quality that indicated he was deeply moved. Another surprise.
“When Melissa had an ultrasound and found out she was going to have a boy, she named him after you.”