Susan Mallery - A Royal Baby on the Way

Again Alex wondered what had happened to make her sister so quiet these days. But if Elizabeth didn’t want to talk, nothing was going to make her.

Alex opened the file next to her plate. ‘‘I think the best plan would be to start the investigation at the scene of the crime. James was kidnapped from the family home in Aspen, Colorado. While the place hasn’t been used in years, I checked and it has been maintained by caretakers. They could have it ready for us in two days—so that will be our base of operation. Laura will put together a publicity schedule that leaves us plenty of time to search. In fact, I intend to go to Arizona to talk with ‘Grandma Beulah’ as soon as we arrive in the States.’’

Katherine leaned forward. Like all the sisters, her hair was a variation on the theme of red. She had thick chestnut hair and wide gray eyes. Sensible as always, she asked, ‘‘How on earth are we going to get our parents to agree to this? They’ve never wanted us to visit America before. Do you really think they’ll let all four of us go there?’’

‘‘Let me handle that,’’ Alex said. ‘‘Laura and I will come up with something. You just get ready to leave.’’

Serena bounced to her feet. ‘‘I’m going to Disneyland.’’

‘‘Not if any of us can help it,’’ Elizabeth murmured under her breath as she stood up.

‘‘Okay, then New York or California or Las Vegas.’’

Alex drew in a deep breath and told herself to remain calm. Serena was a handful and she was going to require around-the-clock watching. ‘‘Make a note,’’ she told Laura as they left the small dining room. ‘‘Put extra security on Serena.’’

‘‘Gabriel Morgan’s our man,’’ Laura said. ‘‘Plus, he’s American, so he’ll be most at home.’’

‘‘Good. The last thing we need is a wild princess on the loose.’’

‘‘What about Elizabeth and Katherine? Or for that matter, you?’’

Alex laughed. ‘‘As if anything would ever happen to us. I promise you that except for possibly finding our long-lost brother, nothing exciting is going to happen while we’re in America.’’

Chapter One

Mitch Colton could smell trouble a mile away…or right in his own driveway. Especially when it came packaged in a sleek, midnight-blue Jaguar. He’d been on his way into the house after spending the morning in the barn with a sick cow when the sound of a car engine had caught his attention. And not just any car engine, but one belonging to an elegantly beautiful sports car.

He stared as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the wide porch that encircled the low, one-story ranch house. While he could admire the sleek lines of the car, he didn’t get the point. Sure, he could buy one, or even a dozen if he was so inclined, but he lived on a working ranch, and a car like that wasn’t practical.

Neither was the leggy redhead stepping out from behind the wheel.

Mitch blinked. Redhead? As in a woman? He looked closer. Yup, and to quote his father, she was a looker. Well dressed in a toast-colored sweater dress, the hem of which flirted with her calves. She was slender, with plenty on top to capture any man’s interest. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but enough of her face showed to convince him that she was somewhere between very pretty and knock-out gorgeous. Long, auburn curls fell down her back. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon, he thought.

‘‘Good afternoon,’’ the woman said as she approached the porch. ‘‘Are you Mitch Colton?’’

He frowned. She sounded funny. Almost English, but not quite. She sure as hell wasn’t from around here. He pushed his hat farther back on his head, propped one foot on the porch railing, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his raised thigh.

‘‘That depends on who’s doing the asking.’’

He’d half expected her to get annoyed, but she surprised him by smiling. ‘‘Don’t you sound like the local sheriff in a Western movie. All right, cowboy, we’ll do this your way.’’ She pulled off her sunglasses, extended her hand and approached the porch. ‘‘I’m Alex Wyndham. If you are Mitch Colton, I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.’’

He’d been holding his own, right up until she smiled and removed her sunglasses. The one-two punch of full lips curving in delight and baby-blue eyes hit him like whisky on an empty stomach. He straightened, swore silently, then leaned down to take her fingers in his. Even though he braced for the impact, the not-so-unexpected jolt of awareness crackled down to his toes. On the return trip, it settled somewhere a tad more interesting. Geez. All this over one little smile. Imagine what would happen to his body if she laughed, or God forbid, made that throaty purring sound women were so good at when they wanted a man.

He straightened and cleared his throat. ‘‘Ma’am.’’

Her smile broadened. ‘‘Ma’am. I’m sure you’re using that mode of address for different reasons than is normally the case. But I like it.’’

Okay, now he was officially lost. ‘‘What are you talking about?’’

‘‘Nothing. I’m just savoring the moment. Here I am having a real conversation with a real cowboy. You are a cowboy, aren’t you?’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ He drew the single syllable out a couple of beats, then sighed. He didn’t like the new direction of their conversation. ‘‘You’re not some buckle bunny out looking for a ride, are you? I didn’t do that kind of thing when I was a kid, and I’m sure as hell not going to do it now.’’

Her delicate eyebrows pulled together in a frown. She had the most perfect skin he’d ever seen. Except maybe on a baby’s butt. Faint color stained her cheeks, but he would have bet a prime steer or two that it was natural, not out of a compact. Her eyes were large, her lashes dark. High cheekbones and a pointed chin focused attention on her full mouth. Dress her up in some leather and lace and she would look like the poster girl for sin.

‘‘Buckle bunny?’’ His guest shook her head. ‘‘Are you talking about a rabbit? Don’t you have cattle on this ranch? I didn’t know anyone bred rabbits out West. Is there a market for them?’’

‘‘What are you talking about?’’ he asked. Rabbits? Was she crazy?

‘‘Rabbits. You mentioned them. Well, you actually said bunnies, but aren’t they the same thing? Are we having trouble communicating?’’

‘‘One of us is.’’ He folded his arms over his chest and glared down at her. Was she being dumb on purpose? ‘‘Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, lady.’’

She flashed him another smile. ‘‘Actually, I’m looking for your brother. John Colton. Could you tell me where he is?’’

While her conversation about rabbits had done a whole bunch to dilute his desire, her question squashed the last, lingering flicker of interest. Over the years he’d come to terms with his relationship with his brother, but he refused to be attracted to one of John’s old lovers.

He raked his gaze over her, starting at her expensive boots and ending at the riot of curls on the top of her head. ‘‘First of all, I don’t give out personal information to strangers. Second, you don’t look like his type.’’

‘‘Type?’’

The woman stared at him blankly. She repeated the word again, silently, as if trying to figure out what he meant. Her surprise was so genuine, he had to reassess his opinion of her.

‘‘You think we were involved?’’ she asked, faintly bewildered. ‘‘Oh, my. No, it’s not that at all.’’

But before she could explain exactly what their relationship was, or he could ask, a black sedan pulled into his yard and parked behind the Jag. Must be his day for company, he thought as two men in dark suits stepped out of the car.