dad took off when I was just a baby, and my mom died when I was in high school. There’s just me.”
“Jeez, that’s too bad.”
Now it was her turn to shrug. She certainly wasn’t getting into the whole “been on my own since I was sixteen” thing. He seemed like a nice, friendly, older guy, but there were limits.
“What do you do?”
“I’m—I mean, I was—a cook on a cruise ship. And spare me the whole ‘cruise ships are ruining Juneau’ speech—I’ve heard it before from the townies.”
“I’ve heard it, too. We’re working on it.”
She stared at him. “Seriously—you look really familiar. Are you sure we haven’t met, or—”
“What are you going to do when we get back to port?”
“I guess I’ll see if any of the hotels needs a caterer or—”
“You can work for me.”
“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.” She was sincere, but being mate on board a fishing boat was not her idea of a good time. It was messy, it was hard work, the pay sucked, and the tourists were annoying. “And I might take you up on it.” Beggars, after all, couldn’t be choosers. “But I’d better look around myself, first.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Captain, am I going to have to kick your ass today, too?”
“Haw! You’re young enough to be one of my kids. I’m too old for that shit. But I’ve got a son, he’s a little older than you—what are you, twenty-three, twenty-four?—and I think you’d be—”
She held up her hands like a traffic cop. “No, thanks. The last thing I need right now is a blind date.”
“Well, where are you sleeping tonight?”
“Seriously. Am I going to have to kick your ass?”
He laughed again. It was comforting—he had a big, booming bear laugh—but strange. It was like he got a huge kick out of being threatened. Like it never happened to him, so it was funny when it did. Most people did not laugh when she threatened them with bodily harm.
“Take it easy, uh—”
“Christina.”
“Christina. I’m Al. Look, I live in a really big place and there’s plenty of room for you. And there’s always a zillion people around, and all my kids still live at home, so it’s not like you’d be—uh—compromised. And I hate the idea of you sleeping on a park bench. I mean, I really fuckin’ hate it.”
She had to smile at his anxiety. And earnestness. “Thanks, Captain, but I’ve been looking out for myself for a long time.”
He sighed. “Suit yourself, but if you change your mind, just call this number and this guy’ll set you up.” He fished around and finally extracted a business card. He left a large grease smear on it, but otherwise it was perfectly legible. “It was really nice talking to you, but I guess I’d better get back to it.”
He strolled to the back of the boat while she read the card.
Edmund Dante
Chief Secretary to HRM King Alexander II
Juneau, Alaska
Audentia aeternum audentia
763–223-3215
At first she thought it was a joke—his name was Al, not Edmund. And what was with the Latin? She knew that slogan, she’d seen it on TV or something…what was it? Boldness, something. Boldness, ever boldness, that’s right. But that was the family—the royal family’s—
She watched the rest of the group. En masse, they shuffled uneasily when the captain approached.
“Your Majesty,” a few of them muttered, staring at the deck.
“Majesty,” another one said, slightly louder, and he bowed from the waist.
“Hey, on the boat, it’s just Al, okay, you guys?” He scratched his beard. “How’d you recognize me, anyway?”
“Hey!” she yelled, crumpling the card in her fist. “Hey!”
“What?” he demanded, turning.
“The king? You’re the goddamned king of Alaska and you’ve got fish guts under your fingernails?”
“Hey, everybody likes to get away once in a while.”
“Get away?”
“You call my guy if you change your mind, Christina. We got lots of room—”
“At the Sitka Palace, for God’s sake!”
“Well…yeah.” He grinned at her. She shook her head and scowled at him, but inside, she was smiling. It had been a pretty good joke on her, and that was for sure. Shame on her for not recognizing him sooner, beard or no beard. The guy was on television or in the papers almost every month, after all.
Assaulted my boss, insulted a king. All in the space of three hours. Can’t wait to see what’s in store this afternoon.
Chapter 3
His Royal Highness David Alexander Marko Dmitri Baranov, crown prince of Alaska, leaned forward and said, “Open up, little lady. You know you want it.”
The sleek king penguin, thigh-high to him, opened her beak and wolfed down the proffered smelt. David resisted the urge to pet her. The deceptively cute bird was more than capable of a painful jab if she felt threatened. He had the scars on the tops of his hands to prove it.
He watched the baker’s dozen of kings swim and move about the twelve-hundred-square-foot habitat. His home-within-his home. Here David felt truly at peace, here he was able to—
“His Highness, heir to the throne, once again among the waddlers.”
“Kings don’t waddle, Edmund,” he said without turning around. “They’re about the only kind of penguin that walks instead of hopping.”
“Fascinating, sir. It’s only because I’m so riveted that I’m falling asleep standing. Of course, I dare not sleep talk and suggest you leave your sanctum sanctorum and take a meal with the king and your royal siblings.”
“Why would I do that?”
The special assistant to the king sighed. “Never mind, sir.”
“So Dad’s back from his fishing tour?”
“Two hours ago, sir.”
“He got busted again, didn’t he?”
“The
