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âDonât play with fire, Chère, youâll only get burned.â
He stood, then walked to the door.
âJake,â she called after him, then went nearer. âDonât go.â
His shoulders tensed.
âIâm tired of being alone,â she said. âDay after day, you leave me. Is my company soâ¦difficult?â
âDonât you understand, Ana? Iâm trying to do the right thing. You have a life somewhere else. When you leave here, I donât want you to haveâ¦regrets.â
âI already have regrets, Jakeâ¦. I regret that I donât remember who I am. But I will never regret anything we share during our time together.â Her breathing grew ragged. She was so angry she wanted to cry.
She marched out the door, without a clue as to where she was going.
And she didnât care.
The Princess Has Amnesia!
Patricia Thayer
To all the other ladies in the CROWN AND GLORY series:
Libby, Allison, Chris, Cara, Karen, Maureen, Elizabeth and Barbara. It was a pleasure to work with such talent. Hope we can do it again.
And to the two new men in my life, Harrison John and Griffin Thomas.
Your grandma loves you.
PATRICIA THAYER
has been writing for the past sixteen years and has published fifteen books with Silhouette. Her books have been nominated for the National Readersâ Choice Award, Virginia Romance Writers of Americaâs Holt Medallion and a prestigious RITA® Award. In 1997 Nothing Short of a Miracle won the Romantic Times Reviewersâ Choice Award for Best Special Edition.
Thanks to the understanding men in her lifeâher husband of thirty years, Steve, and her three sons and two grandsonsâalong with her daughter-in-law, Pat has been able to fulfill her dream of writing romance. Another dream is to own a cabin in Colorado, where she can spend her days writing and her evenings with her favorite hero, Steve. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 6251, Anaheim, CA 92816.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Prologue
Fifty-mile-an-hour winds and driving rain had shut down the Penwyck Airport. All flights in or out had been cancelled because of the fierce storm. In the tower the air traffic controller tried desperately to contact the troubled jet that had taken off just before the closure. Perspiration beaded over his body as he frantically searched the screen for the signal.
Nothing.
âRoyal Bird Two, repeat your location. Over.â He spoke clearly into the microphone, then released the button praying for a miracle that the plane would reappear in his quadrant. Again he asked for verification. âRoyal Bird Two repeat your location. Over.â But outside of heavy static, there was only silence.
He swallowed back the dryness in his throat and repeated the request again, then again. There was no response from the royal familyâs jet.
He buzzed for help and his supervisor appeared immediately at his station. âRoyal Bird Two has disappeared from our radar,â he explained, trying to keep the trembling from his voice.
âWhat do you mean disappeared?â the supervisor asked, unable to hide his panic. âHow can that be?â
âIâm not sure. The plane could have dropped in altitudeâ¦â They all knew the worst, but no one would speak of it. Tensions ran high in this type of job, but to lose the royal familyâs planeâ¦âThe last transmission from the jet was a request to change their flight pattern, hoping to get out of the weather. I cleared them, then suddenly they were gone.â
The supervisor immediately picked up the phone and called the palace. After receiving his orders, he took the controllerâs seat and he tried to make contact himself. But he couldnât summon the missing jet either.
Not ten minutes later the tower door swung open and three men rushed in. Their black suits were meant to make them blend in with the crowd, but just by their stature and presence alone, they stood out. They wore badges that proclaimed them members of the Royal Elite Team. One of the men, Jack Harrison, approached the control module and everyone stepped back. His expression was deadly serious as he glared at the supervisor.
âWe have a Priority One situation here. So we will go over everything, step by step,â he ordered, then pointed out the window at the raging storm. âPrincess Anastasia is out there somewhere and we have to find her.â
Chapter One
The Lear jet vibrated from turbulence as Anastasia Penwyckâs grip tightened on the armrest of her seat. Under normal circumstances, she didnât mind flying, but this roller-coaster ride was not to her liking. Not at all.
Maybe it had been foolish of her to go off to London in such weather, but with all the madness going on at the palace recently, Ana had put her own projects aside too long. The needs of the children who had come to depend on her were important. Now that Owen had been safely returned home, she couldnât delay what she had to do. Even if it meant she had to be up at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m.
It had taken some doing to convince her mother of the urgency of the trip. As a member of the royal family, Anaâs safety was always a concern. Her father, King Morgan of Penwyck, had taught her to be aware and alert. These days he had a new battle of his own to fight. For his life. Even though he was receiving the best medical care, she hated leaving him when he was still in a coma. Ana also knew the king wouldnât want his daughter to neglect her duties.
The orphanage Marlestone House was one of Anaâs latest campaigns,
