“In the future I’ll always associate the smell of cheap whiskey with pain.”
Chad grinned and offered a cup of coffee. “You and the rest of the world.”
He accepted it and took a drink. It was weaker than what he was accustomed to. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you. I’m sorry about the bottle last night.” Chad shrugged his shoulders. “If there’s anything I can do…”
He glanced down at his bare chest and legs. “A shower and some clothes?”
Chad seemed glad to have something to do. “Sure. There’s a mechanic who takes care of the rides who’s about your size.” He headed for the front door. “And the bathroom is the second door on your right.”
“Chad,” Alex called. “Where am I?”
“Nowhere.”
Alex frowned.
“Well,” Chad amended quickly, “specifically, you’re on Pirate Island, population four hundred sixty-four on a busy day. This is a camping resort for families who want to get away from it all. And I say ‘all’ in the literal sense. We don’t even have a weekly newspaper, and the only way you can get here is by ferry.” Chad hooked his fingers in his pockets and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Elvis could live here in total obscurity. The place is dead.”
Alex was sure he’d misunderstood. “No newspaper?”
“None.”
“Radio or television station?”
“None.” Chad pushed open the door. “Don’t worry. We won’t keep you here. The noon ferry will be here before you know it.”
Alex stared after Chad thoughtfully. No newspaper. No media. No “Your Majesty.” An insane idea struck him. He immediately dismissed it. But as he took his shower and ate a bowl of cereal, it distracted him like a buzzing bee.
He called the palace collect and asked for Isabella. Though Alex felt distant from his three siblings, he felt the strongest connection with Isabella, probably because she was the closest in age and she didn’t stand on ceremony with him.
“Where are you?” she asked without preamble. “Jake called this morning and said you hadn’t arrived.”
“You haven’t mentioned this to Father.”
“No, but I would have if you hadn’t called in another hour. Jake asked where you were, then he rudely ordered me to keep my mouth shut. Your friend is—”
“—Jake’s an American, and he was right to ask you to keep quiet.”
“He didn’t ask,” she stiffly informed him.
Alex shook his head. This would have been easier if he could have talked to his longtime assistant, Max, but Max was in Tibet. “That’s beside the point. I’m on Pirate Island, North Carolina. I had some—” he paused only a second “—transportation difficulties. It’s a remote area. No media. They don’t even know who I am.”
“Sounds enthralling. When are you going to Jake’s?”
“I don’t know.” He looked around the simply furnished room and finally repeated his impulse out loud. “I was thinking of staying.”
Complete silence followed his statement, which was rare for Isabella. “You’re joking,” she finally said. “You wouldn’t last a week without your adoring servants.”
That nettled him. “I’ve handled tougher conditions than this.”
“But everybody always knew you were Prince Alexander Ferdinand Merrick de Moreno.”
True. That was what he loved and hated about Isabella—she always told the truth.
“Alex, face it. You’re a prince. When you take the throne, you’ll be a king. You’re good at being a ruler. It’s your identity.”
Familiar dissatisfaction rolled through him. He loved his country and took seriously his role as leader, but even leaders needed an occasional break. That was the purpose behind this monthlong vacation. A dozen practical objections to his staying on Pirate Island came to mind.
The once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be just a man, though, won out. In that instant he made his decision. “Call Jake and give my regrets. He’ll understand. Have the rental car picked up in Charles City. I’ll see you in a month.”
“I don’t believe this. You’ll never last.”
Alex knew Isabella couldn’t resist a bet. “Shall we wager?”
“What?”
“If I don’t last a month, I’ll persuade Father to let you go to Monte Carlo with your wild friend Lucinda.”
“She’s not that wild,” Isabella corrected.
“If I stay, you make the same kind of trip—sans title.” While Alex wore his title like a cloak, Isabella used hers as a shield to get out of sticky situations.
“Deal.”
“Not a word to Mother or Father.”
“My lips are sealed. I’ll be too busy thinking about Monte Carlo.”
Alex smiled. “Just remember my nickname, dearest.”
“Prince of Steel? Ah, but even steel melts, Your High and Mightiness.” She paused, and her voice softened. “Take care. Au revoir, Alex.”
“Make that Al. Al Sanders.”
“Au revoir.” She hesitated. “Al.”
Twenty minutes later his new identity was firmly in place. From the tight fit of the borrowed jeans and T-shirt brought to him, Alex concluded the mechanic weighed about twenty pounds less than he did. He learned that Chad and Katherine’s uncle Jasper owned the campground but had recently experienced a heart attack. Katherine was nearly overwhelmed with the responsibility of the busy tourist season.
He also learned despite Chad’s stuttering and stammering that Katherine expected Alex to vacate the premises as soon as possible.
Alex, however, had other ideas. He wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to be a nonprince.
After all, it might never come again. He needed to be just a man. Katherine needed help. The solution seemed simple to him. And in the back of his mind, he wanted to learn more about the tough and tender lady with the rose-petal mouth.
Alex picked up a map of the resort complex and set out to make himself indispensable.
At nine o’clock that evening Katherine glanced up to find Al Sanders propped against the door of her uncle’s office. He should have been gone hours ago. Instead, he’d entertained some difficult customers by taking them sailing. The disgruntled couple had been charmed, the woman nearly melting into the cracks of the pavement.
Katherine
