A stab of concern welled up inside her. No matter how she felt about him, he didn’t deserve so much tragedy.
The record showed no sign of a wife and children. Had he been involved with anyone? She told herself she didn’t care. Another woman was welcome to him. But it didn’t stop her stomach muscles from clenching at the thought.
As Princess Alison had suspected, Serena’s crush on Garth had been deep enough to make her feel hot more than thirteen years afterward. She blushed to recall how her friends had caught her practicing signing her name as Serena Remy and had teased her unmercifully. They had bet her she wouldn’t have the courage to kiss him.
Knowing how much she wanted to kiss him, she had accepted the bet, waiting until she found him alone, then throwing herself into his arms and fastening her innocent lips on his. When his strong, youthful arms automatically closed around her, her heart had pounded as if it would leap right out of her chest.
Instead of admitting to overhearing her make the bet, he had kissed her back as if he had been waiting for her all his life. She had felt the stars in her eyes as he held her away from him, and she had been shocked to see how cold he looked. “Looks like you win,” he had drawled.
She vividly recalled the sensation of ice water sliding along her veins, his switch from passion to indifference making her light-headed. “What are you saying?”
“You can go back to your high-society friends and collect on your bet. If they want proof, I’ll vouch that you kissed me. How much was I worth?”
No money had been involved. Only her pride. “You know about the bet?”
He had leaned indolently against a wall. “I’m not stupid enough to think you’d do it for any other reason. A spoiled society princess doesn’t waste her time on the guy from the other side of the tracks unless there’s something in it for her.”
She had needed something to hold on to, but the only available anchor was him, and if she touched him again she was lost. She had lifted her head, letting a defiance she didn’t feel shimmer in her gaze. “I’d hate you to think I wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh, you wanted to. You want to do it again,” he said. “You might have kissed me for a bet but you enjoyed every minute of it.”
How had he known? “You have a high opinion of yourself,” she had snapped.
He had straightened. “Yes, I do. Unlike you, I have plans for my life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re no more than a beautiful doll who lets herself be used to satisfy her family’s ego. Before I get involved with a girl, she’ll have to do more with her life than trade on her looks.”
He had walked away. She had stayed frozen in place until she was sure he was gone, before letting the tears come. All her dreams of togetherness with him lay in pieces at her feet. He not only didn’t want her company, he despised what he thought she was.
The worst part was knowing that she had let her parents use her to fulfill their ambitions. She had barely noticed when her father gave up his banking job to manage her career. Her mother, once a capable casting agent, had always called herself Serena’s stylist. When had that become her sole occupation?
She had known she disappointed them bitterly by walking away from a future as a supermodel. Her mother had been horrified when she chose a career in law enforcement, mainly because of the risk to her perfect features, she assumed. They were happier now she was with the R.P.D., little knowing that the royal security could be as hazardous as any other security work. The modern world was a dangerous place. One day she might have to put her life on the line to protect her royal employers.
She had never expected to have to risk her heart.
The gymnasium overlooked Solano Harbor. She took her own car, and wore a plain teal sweatsuit. Normally she worked out in the luxurious palace gym and wore sweats monogrammed with the royal crest, hardly an option to meet Garth. She had no idea how she was going to convince him to see Lorne and had a feeling that the lower the profile she adopted the better.
He used the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she had learned when she called from the palace. She waited outside the gymnasium in her car until she saw him pull up in a battered pickup, the back cluttered with diving paraphernalia. In contrast to the state of the car, the gear looked pristine.
Garth didn’t look so bad himself, she thought, watching him lock the car and securely cover the diving gear. A familiar longing washed over her but she fought it. This time she was no teenager, wishing for the moon. She ducked low but he didn’t look around, merely hitched a navy-issue duffel bag over his shoulder and headed for the entrance.
Still as dark and brooding as she remembered, she thought, keeping down as he stalked past. Same sinfully broad shoulders, same narrow hips and grabbable rear, sculpted by the tight jeans he wore slung low like a cowboy’s. All he needed was a Stetson to complete the image.
He’d let his hair grow long, she noticed. Dark with lighter streaks from the sun and sea, it touched the collar of his rumpled blue golf shirt. One errant lock still fell across his eyes. She watched him push it back with an impatient gesture that was all too familiar.
Serena knew her scrutiny was hardly professional, but couldn’t help noticing how tanned he was from years of outdoor exposure, and the way faint lines radiated from his eyes. His wide mouth was so grimly set that she doubted he smiled any more now than he had when he was younger. Although it was late morning, his chin was dusted with stubble. His rugged appearance should have repelled her but instead she felt a dangerous prickle of excitement.
At the entrance he looked around as if sensing her eyes on him. She felt his jet gaze skim over her, so penetrating that she expected him to wrench her car door open and demand to know why she was watching him. Then he shrugged as if shaking off a phantom touch, pushed the door open and disappeared inside.
Sitting up, she swallowed hard, swimming in more phantoms. Memories of how she had imagined herself as his girl, cheering his sporting prowess from the sidelines, threatened to swamp her. Few others had cheered for him even when he won, she remembered. He had been too self-sufficient, making it clear he didn’t need anyone’s adulation. She had been the only girl stupid enough to think she was different.
Not anymore. She was here for a purpose, not to revisit yearnings she had grown out of thirteen years ago. She had, hadn’t she? The dryness in her throat argued differently. Not sure how honestly, she told herself she wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. Only Prince Lorne’s assurance that the country’s stability depended on resolving Garth’s claim to the throne—if he had one—got her out of the car and sauntering across the car park after him as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
In truth, she had a handful. This morning at the palace Jarvis Reid had swooped down on her, demanding her files on the presidential visit. He had looked like a cat with his first canary, as well he might. All her hard work preparing for the visit would now give Reid’s ambition a boost at the cost of her own. The thought of reporting to him as head of the Solano division made her feel ill. She had counted on it being the other way around.
Garth Remy had better be the lost prince, she thought angrily. If this was a clever hoax and he was somehow involved, she’d be kicking his fine-looking rear instead of grabbing it.
At the same time, she had difficulty imagining him being involved in a hoax. He may have been
