need a rental car…”
“I need to call my boss…”
“I’ll make sure the luggage is brought to the rental office…”
“I should have called Simon from Montebello. The paper might pay for the rental…”
“The king authorized me to pay for all expenses—”
Both speaking at the same time, they froze abruptly and only just then realized what the other had said. Frowning, Lorenzo said stiffly, “There’s no reason to call your boss. I’m paying for everything.”
His tone dared her to argue with him, and for a moment, Eliza had to struggle not to smile. If he thought Simon was going to object to him using his American Express card, he was in for a rude awakening. “I’m sure Simon will appreciate that, but I still need to call the office and check in. It won’t take long.”
“Then I’ll collect the luggage while you’re doing that and meet you at the rental car office.”
His head high and his bearing regal, he strode off, and watching him, Eliza could well understand why King Marcus had considered Lorenzo as his successor. Confident and proud, he looked like he could take on the world with one hand tied behind his back.
Not, she reminded herself, that he was ever likely to be king. Not now that there was a good chance that Prince Lucas was alive. Was that a disappointment to him? she wondered. She’d have to ask him and include that in her story.
Her mind already working on the opening paragraph, she stepped over to the bank of phones against the wall and quickly punched in Simon’s number. “Hey, LaGree,” she teasingly greeted him when he answered with a rough hello. “I’m back and you’re never going to guess what happened.”
“It better be good, Red,” he growled, “because you’ve got a column to file and a four o’clock deadline. Or did you forget that while you were having tea with the king and queen?”
“We never got around to tea,” she chuckled, “but you don’t have to worry about the column. Thanks to an exclusive the king granted me, I’m going to have enough material to fill the entire front page section.”
“Get out of here! You got an exclusive?”
“Oh, I got more than that,” she replied, grinning. “Duke Lorenzo flew back with me to talk to Willy and investigate where he found the scarf, and I’m going to be working with him during the search. Of course, this means I’ll be out of the office for a while. I hope that’s not going to be a problem.”
“Are you kidding?! Damn it all, Red, I underestimated you! Listen, you follow this to the end, you hear me? Keep good notes and check in every couple of days so I’ll know what’s going on, okay? This is going to get you a Pulitzer, Red. And if you pull this off and help find Prince Lucas, you deserve it.”
It wasn’t often that he called her by her first name, and just that easily, he touched her heart. “Thanks, Simon,” she said huskily. “Knowing you believe in me means a lot.”
“You better believe I believe in you,” he retorted. “Why do you think I didn’t let Little Miss Priss steal this story right out from under you? She wouldn’t know what to do with it if you handed it to her on a platter. And don’t you worry about her while you’re gone,” he added. “She’s happy in La-la land, and I plan on keeping her there as long as possible.”
Her smile rueful, Eliza appreciated that, but they both knew Deborah would be a threat to her as long as her daddy owned the paper and she wanted to play Brenda Starr. “Maybe Brad Pitt’ll fall for her and she’ll never come back.”
“We can only pray we get that lucky,” he said dryly.
Grinning, she said, “I’d better go—I’ve got to meet the duke at the rental car office. Thanks again, Simon. I’ll be in touch.”
“Hey, who’s paying for this?” he said quickly before she could hang up. “You didn’t commit the paper to anything, did you?”
He suddenly sounded so worried that she couldn’t resist stringing him along a little. “What do you think? I know how badly you want this story.”
“Dammit, Red, don’t do this to me!”
Laughing, she hung up.
She was still smiling when she reached the rental car office and found Lorenzo loading their luggage into the back of the Tahoe SUV he’d rented. “I thought we might need something rugged since we’re going up into the mountains,” he told her. “Were you able to talk to your boss?”
Grinning, she nodded. “He told me to take all the time I need.”
“Good. Then let’s go.” Always the gentleman, he opened the passenger door for her, then stepped around the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. Starting the motor, he put it in gear, then arched a brow at her. “Willy lives north of here, correct? In Boulder?”
“That’s right,” she said as he pulled away from the curb. “Turn right at the signal light.”
Without a word, he followed her directions, and within moments, they were on their way to Boulder. It seemed like she’d been traveling for a week, but as far as Eliza was concerned, they couldn’t get there fast enough. There was, however, little point in hurrying. It was already late in the day. They’d have to wait until tomorrow to see Willy.
“When we get to Boulder, we might as well go ahead and get a motel for the night,” she said as they left the city behind. “Willy doesn’t like visitors after three, so I’ll call him in the morning and set up a meeting for tomorrow.”
“But it’s early yet,” Lorenzo replied with a scowl. “Surely he can see us today. I wanted to head up into the mountains tomorrow to the campsite where he found the scarf.”
“You can’t rush Willy, Your Grace,” she replied. “He has his own rules when it comes to dealing with the outside world, and if we don’t play by those rules, we can forget seeing him at all. I know it’s frustrating, but it’s his way or no way.”
Frustrated didn’t begin to describe what Lorenzo was feeling. It had been a full year since Prince Lucas’s plane had gone down, and now that a new lead had surfaced that might eventually point to his whereabouts, he couldn’t even check it out. The Prince’s safety was in the hands of a crazy old mountain man who wouldn’t cooperate until he was good and ready.
And then, there was Eliza. From the moment he’d found her wandering the halls at the palace, he’d somehow lost control of everything. He’d ordered her shown to the door, but she’d still managed to finagle her way in to see the king and queen. When he’d wanted to fly to Colorado to interrogate Willy himself, she’d dropped the bombshell that the hermit would only talk to her. Because it was the king’s wish, Lorenzo had been forced to endure her company, and now she was trying to control the investigation itself!
He wouldn’t have it, dammit! He was the head of Royal Intelligence, and he wasn’t going to allow a gossip columnist, of all things, to control how and where and when he did his job. And what the devil kind of perfume was she wearing, anyway? The fresh, light scent of hers drifted through the confines of the SUV, teasing his senses, teasing him. He
