Melissa McClone: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince

“I know you want the key, but the box in the picture never belonged to your mother.”

Oh, boy. Rowdy and Boyd had told Izzy if she posted on the internet she would get some strange replies. But she’d received only one email from a person who described the box so perfectly she’d sent him a picture of it. “You’re HRMKDK?”

“That’s my father,” Niko explained. “His Royal Majesty King Dmitar Kresimir.”

Like a king would ever email a total stranger about a wooden box. Sure it was pretty, but it was old. Izzy had thought the only value was sentimental. Maybe she was wrong about its worth. “I did correspond with your, um, dad, but I already told you, the box belongs to me.”

“The box is technically yours, but only because I gave it to you.”

What a ridiculous statement. The box was Izzy’s only connection to her mother who had died when Izzy was a baby. That was why she was desperate to find the missing key and open the bottom portion to see if anything was inside. With Uncle Frank gone, she had no family, no connection to her past. She wanted to know something … anything.

Fighting her disappointment over not finding the key, Izzy squared her shoulders. “I’ve heard of Vernonia, but I’ve never been there. I’m certain we’ve never met. I’ve had the box for as long as I remember.”

“You have had the box for twenty-three years,” Niko said. “I gave it to you when you were a baby.”

“A baby,” she repeated, as if hearing it a second time would make more sense than the first time. It didn’t. The guy wasn’t that much older than her—that would mean he’d been just a kid. Ludicrous.

“Yes,” Niko admitted ruefully. “I must sound crazy.”

If he wasn’t, then she was. “You do.”

“I can assure you I’m not crazy,” Niko stated matter-of-factly. He glanced at his aide standing next to him. “Isn’t that true, Jovan?”

“Not crazy,” Jovan agreed, though he continued to look amused by what was going on.

“I’m guessing you’re paid to agree with him, Jovan,” Izzy said, irritated.

“Yes, but I’m also a lawyer if that adds to my credibility.”

“It doesn’t.” Maybe this was how good-looking, eccentric royals wasted their time and money. She wished they would go bother someone else. “I think you both must be certifiable.”

The two men looked at her with puzzled expressions.

“Insane.” Izzy glanced at the police officers. She couldn’t imagine them wasting their time and tax dollars protecting some mental case claiming to be a prince. Surely they would have checked him out and asked to see his diplomatic papers or passport or something. “Let’s pretend what you say is true—”

“It is true,” Niko said.

She took a deep breath to control her growing temper. “Why would you give a baby the box? Is there some significance to the gesture?”

“It’s customary.”

It was her turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“Tradition,” Niko clarified. “When a Vernonian prince gets married, he presents his wife with a bride box on their wedding day.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you would give the box to me.”

“Because I am your husband.”

“MY HUSBAND?” Isabel’s voice cracked. Her expression would have been comical if this were not such a serious matter.

“Yes.” Niko understood her shock. He even sympathized. Discovering he had a wife had sent his world spinning off its axis. But her feelings—his feelings—would only delay the annulment needed to remedy this “complication” so he could marry Julianna and help his country. “It is a lot to take in.”

“Take in?” Sharp, brown eyes bore into him. “Okay, Niko or whoever you are, cut the bull and tell me what’s really going on here.”

He stared at Isabel with the dirty, baggy coveralls, lopsided ponytail and grease on her hands and cheek. She might be halfway attractive with her oval face, high cheekbones and expressive eyes, if she weren’t dressed like a man and covered in motor oil.

“Come on, Niko.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Spill.”

He expected her lack of protocol and manners, but the strength in her voice surprised him, as did her take-no-prisoner tone. Most people kowtowed to him. Few ever challenged him. He was … intrigued. “I am speaking the truth. I am your husband.”

She pursued her full, unglossed lips and gave him a long, hard look. He was used to such a frank appraisal, but unlike most women, Isabel did not seem impressed by what she saw. He didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed by this woman who worked at a dilapidated garage fixing other people’s broken-down vehicles.

“I told you. I’ve never seen you before,” she said. “We can’t be married.”

“Indeed we can. You simply do not remember.”

Isabel’s gaze remained steady. “I think I’d remember getting married.”

“Not if you were only a few months old at the time.”

Her mouth formed a perfect O. “What?”

“I was only six years old when we married, and my memories are very vague.”

Almost nonexistent, but he needed to convince Isabel of what had occurred twenty-three years ago, not add to the doubts shining in her pretty hazel eyes.

“Children marrying?” Isabel’s nostrils flared. “There are laws against that kind of thing.”

“Yes, and today it is illegal in Vernonia, but not twenty-three years ago.”

“This is crazy.” Her voice jumped an octave. “I’m an American.”

“Your mother was American, but your father was Vernonian.”

“My father.” Isabel’s glanced toward Jovan as if seeking confirmation. At his nod, her hands balled into fists. “Now I know you’re lying. My father’s name isn’t listed on my birth certificate. I have no idea who he is.”

The hurt and anger in her voice suggested she was telling the truth. There was no reason for her to lie. She had too much to gain by accepting what Niko was telling her. His respect inched up. Opportunists or not, many women would have jumped at the chance to be his wife. “I have proof.”

“You mean the box,” she said.

“The bride box, yes, but also documentation and a photograph.”

Curiosity flashed in Isabel’s eyes. “What kind of documentation?”

Her interest loosened some of the tension in his shoulders. Maybe the paper would convince her of the truth. He motioned to Jovan, who removed a leather pouch from his inside suit pocket with a flourish and handed it over.

As Niko opened the flap, he noticed two tall men in coveralls watching them from the garage.

No doubt the limousine and police cars would attract attention. Niko wanted to avoid the media at all cost. The annulment needed to be handled quietly with no press coverage. Before departing for the United States, he had been upfront with Julianna about the situation, but others from Aliestle might not be as understanding about the sudden appearance of “his wife” on the front page of tabloids. He didn’t want to risk losing her and what she would bring to Vernonia.

He glanced around. “I would prefer a more private place to discuss matters. Inside the limo perhaps?”

Isabel glared at him. “Do I look like the kind of woman who would get into a car with strangers?”

Niko assumed based on her reaction the answer wasn’t yes. “I may be a stranger, but I am your husband.”

“That remains to be seen.”

She wasn’t making this easy, but given her appearance he shouldn’t be surprised. “Perhaps the garage or if there is an office—”

“Here.”

He needed her cooperation. The last thing Niko wanted to do was upset her any more than he already had. He would allow her this much control.