ago, Josquin had followed Sarah’s progress avidly. With every new report he became more fascinated by her, and more intrigued at the prospect of finally meeting her. If he hadn’t been determined not to get involved with any woman, his preoccupation with her would have been a real concern.
He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. Where was his equerry who had been instructed to interrupt if the function went on too long? On cue, Gerard appeared at the door, his gaze sweeping the room until he located Josquin. Approaching the prince, the equerry bowed deferentially and announced, “Your Highness, your next appointment is waiting for you.”
Not a moment too soon, Josquin thought. He gave Peter an apologetic look. “If you’ll excuse me, duty calls.”
Peter inclined his head respectfully, but Josquin caught a gleam in his friend’s eye. “Thank you for supporting our work, Your Highness. Appreciated as always,” he said. Under his breath, Peter added, “When you meet your mystery woman, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Josquin resisted reminding his friend how much scope that would give him if he took it literally. Peter had been far from saintly until marriage settled him down. Nor did Josquin bother denying that there was a woman involved. He would only fuel Peter’s suspicion.
He let his equerry clear a path for him through the crowd, nodding and smiling his way to the door and heaving a sigh of relief when it whispered shut behind him. These functions were good for the province’s economy, and as Prince Henry’s principal business adviser, Josquin willingly supported them, but the benefits didn’t stop the social side from boring the pants off him.
Unlike the meeting that lay ahead of him.
A smile tugged at his mouth as he anticipated meeting Sarah in the flesh at last. He knew how beautiful she was, and how she lived, but he wanted to know what she was really like. Would she be as charming in person as she had looked when the photographer had captured her playing with her baby on a blanket in a park near her apartment? She had been unaware of being observed, and the delightfully unselfconscious way she looked was imprinted on Josquin’s memory.
He sobered abruptly as his thoughts strayed beyond the initial meeting. Not for the first time, he wished that Henry hadn’t insisted that Josquin be the one to find her and have her brought to Carramer. After everything the old prince had done for him Josquin could hardly refuse, but he couldn’t make himself feel good about it. He wouldn’t be the only one when Sarah found out what Henry expected of her, Josquin thought, as he waited for his car and driver to take him to their meeting.
Chapter One
Sarah McInnes bounced the grumbling baby on her hip. “Not much longer now, little one.” She nudged her suitcase forward with her foot, frowning at the slow-moving line ahead of her. The Carramer people might be “the world’s most delightful hosts” according to the brochures, but their customs officials had scant regard for a baby’s needs. Christophe was tired after the long flight and she could see him getting ready to give his small lungs a workout.
She was being ungrateful, she knew. She was about to visit one of the most beautiful countries in the world, thanks to a radio station’s computer that had dialed her phone number at random in a competition. Given the odds against winning such a wonderful prize, how could she feel unhappy about anything? She put her mood down to exhaustion. Although the flight attendants had been wonderful, taking turns to distract him, Christophe had fretted most of the way from America. As a result Sarah had slept little herself.
Suddenly her attention was captured by a flurry of activity at the station ahead of her. A handsome man strode up to the officials and spoke quietly to them. Their response, instant and unmistakably deferential, made her wonder who the man was and why everyone jumped to attention when he appeared on the scene.
She had sworn off men, even ones with hair the color of midnight and the build of an athlete straining his designer suit. He would never be able to buy clothes off the rack, she thought, not with those wide shoulders and narrow waist. From where she stood she couldn’t see his legs, but as he had crossed the customs hall, the men with him had struggled to keep up.
The man’s intense gaze swung to the people in her line. Was it her imagination, or did his gaze rest longer on her than on the people around her? There was no reason for her to be singled out. She was only an ordinary tourist visiting the country. A different line catered for people traveling on business visas, so none of the people around her could be tycoons planning to pour millions of dollars into the island kingdom’s economy, especially not Sarah herself.
For someone who had no interest in men other than the adorable one-year-old in her arms, Sarah found herself paying a foolish amount of heed to the way everyone danced attendance on this one man. He stabbed a finger at the computer screen alongside him and began to talk in a lowered voice.
Only another customs official, she concluded. Maybe he was simply one of those men who commanded attention no matter what their position in life.
Since she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry, she amused herself by continuing to study him covertly. She put his age at about thirty, although it was hard to pin down when he moved with such athletic grace. When he finally strode away, she felt something very like disappointment.
She was startled when a uniformed man approached and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Kindly come this way, madame.”
His tone carried a hint of command, and her stomach lurched. Had she made a mistake when she completed the entry formalities for herself and Christophe? Sarah had never been in trouble of any kind, and had never been to Carramer before. While studying the brochures, she’d felt drawn to the place, but put the feeling down to her lifelong fascination with the South Pacific. So what could be the matter?
She decided she wasn’t giving up her place in line without some explanation. “I’m sure you mean to help,” she said firmly. “But I’m almost at the head of the line and if I lose my place now, it will be hard on my baby. He’s already tired and fractious.”
As if to confirm her assertion, Christophe gave vent to a series of escalating wails that had the soldier wincing in sympathy.
“The child is the reason we wish to expedite your entry,” he said over Christophe’s cries. “Please come with me.”
Since she was the only person in line carrying a baby, the officials must have felt sorry for her. Who was she to argue with anything that speeded this up? Aware of the curious glances of the people remaining in line, she allowed the soldier to pick up her suitcase, and followed him across the customs hall to a pair of wood-paneled doors. He swung one of them open, put her case down inside, and held the door wide so she could enter.
The activity had diverted Christophe, she was relieved to see. His tears had dried to distressed hiccups, and he was looking around curiously. The peace wouldn’t last but she was grateful for the respite.
Before the door closed, she saw the soldier take up a post outside—to keep her in, or others out? Then the heavy door swung completely shut and the sounds of the reception hall melted into silence. All she could hear was the sound of her own fast breathing. Plush carpeting masked the tentative steps she took into the room.
“Please come in and take a seat.”
She hadn’t been imagining things, the intriguing man from the customs hall had paid her special attention. He was doing it now, she saw as she approached the massive antique desk he was seated behind. A leather folder lay open in front of him and she was
