Marion Lennox: Marrying His Majesty: Claimed: Secret Royal Son

There wasn’t one. He was locked into a monarchy so out of date that the country couldn’t go forward.

And Lily was here.

His head was full already without her. Hell, he had responsibilities everywhere. He was trapped.

But right now all he could think of was Lily. White-faced, big-eyed, thinner than when he’d last seen her. Flinching as he’d said he couldn’t remember their lovemaking.

Maybe he’d been too harsh. Telling her she had to leave.

He had no choice. The islanders were appalled at how her sister had behaved. Lily was, at least outwardly, a less groomed, less glitzy version of Mia. Her clothes were built for practicality rather than glamour, but the islanders would still see her sister in her. She wouldn’t be tolerated.

For years the islanders had dreamed that with Giorgos’s death they’d be able to purchase their homes, their olive groves, their right to moor their fishing boats without paying the exorbitant mooring rents they’d been charged for ever. But with the birth of Michales their hopes had been dashed. And now… For Giorgos to die and for his Queen to walk away leaving such a legacy…

He didn’t blame the islanders for their anger. Rebellion was very close but that’d be a disaster, too. He had to find some way through this mess.

To blame Lily wasn’t fair. He knew that. But then, he thought wryly, life wasn’t fair. He had no choice but to be here, and Lily had no choice but to leave.

Today.

A knock sounded on his door. He hated the servants intruding—in truth he hated the idea of servants—but he had to grow accustomed.

‘Yes?’

‘If you please, Your Highness… ’ It was one of the nursery maids, wide-eyed and big with news.

‘Yes?’

‘The baby’s gone,’ she breathed. ‘I just put my head around the nursery door and he’s gone. And so has Miss Lily. The groundsmen say her boat’s no longer anchored in the cove. She’s taken our baby, sir. She’s taken the Crown Prince.’

IT WAS six long weeks before he found her.

Alex told the islanders he’d given permission for Lily to care for her nephew while Mia decided what to do, but it was a lie. In reality he had a sworn-to-secrecy team working round the clock, making discreet enquiries, searching across the globe.

Finally his enquiries brought up a birth, registered in the United States:

Michales McLachlan, aged five months, son of Lily McLachlan. Reason for not immediately registering the birth: abroad at time of birth and illness after confinement. Father not listed.

She was registering Michales as hers—as a US citizen. Did she think she could get away with it? He was astounded—furious—and, above all, confused.

Was this a ruse so Mia could get her baby back? It didn’t make sense. If Mia wanted him she could have taken him. Yes, Michales was the future King of the Diamond Isles, but that wouldn’t have prevented him from being raised overseas.

He had to stop it. The one hope the people of the Diamond Isles held was that this baby was a new start. As Prince Regent, Alex could ensure this child was raised with a social conscience. Things could get better.

But things couldn’t get better if the baby wasn’t on the island where he could influence his upbring.

What the hell was Lily doing? Where was she? And where was the baby?

Mia and her new consort were in Dubai, living the high life.

Lily and Michales were nowhere.

And then he had a call from one of his… researchers.

‘Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s returning to the States by boat,’ the man told him. ‘The Nahid belongs to a corporation owned by Ben Merhdad, the guy Queen Mia’s living with. It’s due to dock in Maine on Saturday.’

So here he was, in Maine, on the dock, with two of his men plus an immigration official he’d briefed. It’d solve everything if this baby was never permitted legal entry to the United States.

Two minutes before its designated arrival, a magnificent yacht nosed its way into the harbour.

To his astonishment, Lily was making no attempt to hide. She was standing on deck, wearing faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Her hair was wrapped in another crazy scarf—a silk confection. Gorgeous.

She was holding a baby.

There was an audible gasp from the guys around him. ‘She’s not even hiding him,’ someone said.

‘She’s registered the baby as hers,’ the immigration official said uneasily. ‘She must think she can get away with it.’

‘What the hell’s she playing at?’ Alex growled.

She’d seen him now. Incredibly, she gave him a cheery smile and a wave. She looked like a woman who’d just returned from a pleasure cruise.

She looked… lovely.

Or not. He gave himself a sharp mental swipe to the side of the head. Remember this woman’s like her sister. Lovely is surface deep, he told himself. What’s inside is selfish, greedy and shallow.

Testosterone was not what was needed.

What was needed was a swift end to this farce.

But she didn’t look concerned. She seemed to be the only passenger, standing calmly on the deck as lines were secured… as a crewman carried a couple of bags from below… as Alex gave up waiting and stepped over onto the deck.

‘Hi,’ she said, and she smiled brightly again, as if he was a friend she was pleased to meet after a casual morning’s cruise. ‘I thought you might be here. Good detective work.’

‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘No,’ she said, and kept right on smiling. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘You’ve taken the baby… ’

‘No,’ she said, and her smile slipped a little. ‘Not the baby. My baby.’

‘Yours.’ The word sucked air from his lungs.

‘Michales is mine,’ she said. She turned to the crew and her smile returned. ‘Thanks, guys. You’ve been fabulous. Please thank Ben for me. I can manage from here.’

‘We’ve organised transport. And security.’ One of the crew—by his demeanour, Alex assumed he was captain—motioned to the dock, and for the first time Alex was aware of a limousine. A uniformed chauffeur was standing at attention, and two dark-suited men stood behind.

‘Will I need security?’ Lily asked, seemingly of the world at large. ‘I’m sure I won’t.’ She turned back to Alex and gave him another of her bright smiles. ‘It’s up to you, Your Highness. Will I need muscle to protect what’s mine?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

She motioned to the men beside him. ‘I think you do. You thought you might take my baby away from me.’

‘He’s not your baby.’

‘He is.’

‘Miss.’ It was the immigration official. Alex had laid the situation before the US immigration authorities, asking for discretion. This man was senior enough to know what to do, and he had the authority to do it. He was wearing a look of determination and gravitas—an official about to lay down the law. ‘According to His Highness, this baby is the Crown Prince of the Diamond Isles. He’s the son of King Giorgos and Queen Mia.’

‘That was a mistake,’ Lily said. ‘Michales is mine. His birth is registered under my name. He’s a citizen of the United States.’

‘That’s not been proven,’ the man said, clearly unimpressed. ‘You can’t arrive in the States with a baby and claim he’s yours.’

‘Without proof,’ Lily finished for him.

‘Registering the baby’s birth isn’t proof.’

‘No,’ she said softly. ‘But this is.’ She handed over a wallet she’d had tucked under Michales’s shawl. ‘This is confirmation by legitimate medical authorities that I had a baby less than six months ago. You’ll see it’s indisputable—the French authorities were very thorough when I told them what I needed. Also attached is the report of DNA samples from my son and from me. I’m happy to have the tests repeated here if you wish, but you’ll get the same answers. This baby was passed off by my brother-in-law, the King of the Diamond Isles, as his own, in order to prevent Prince Alexandros ascending to the throne. But this baby is mine, and I intend to keep him.’