always were suspicious of the Sebastianis, Butrus,” Sheik Ahmed said dryly. “It must be that legal mind of yours. You see a conspiracy around every corner.”
Not the least offended, he didn’t deny it. “They are too closely aligned with the West, sire. They do not think like us.”
“That, unfortunately, is too true,” he agreed. “In this particular instance, however, I don’t think King Marcus is deliberately conspiring to deny his daughter the throne. He’s just a grieving father who isn’t ready to acknowledge his son’s death. I can’t say I blame him. I would find that equally difficult.”
Standing nearby, overhearing the entire conversation, Princess Julia could have hugged her father-in-law for that. There was no question that her family did think differently from her husband’s family, but much of that had to do with the feud that had existed between their two countries for the past century. Trust was not something that came automatically just because peace had been declared.
When it came to family, however, there was very little difference between the Sebastianis and the Kamals. They believed, as she and her parents did, that nothing was more important in life than the love of family.
Reading her thoughts, her father-in-law looked right at her at that moment, his black eyes alight with sympathy and understanding, and it was all she could do not to cry. She missed her brother terribly and couldn’t blame her parents for wanting to believe Lucas was still alive. She did, too.
At her side, Rashid took her hand and twined his fingers with hers, his dark eyes smiling into hers when she looked up. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to. After everything they’d been through, they had a knowledge of each other that went soul deep.
“The king may be grieving, but he understands that it’s his duty to protect the monarchy at all costs,” Rashid told Butrus and his father. “He wouldn’t postpone naming a successor unless he truly believed Lucas was alive.”
“I agree,” Hassan said. “Whatever’s going on, it has nothing to do with some kind of secret plot to deny Julia and Rashid the throne. They never had much of a chance at it anyway. No offense,” he told his brother and sister-in-law with a quick grin. “It’s just a matter of common sense. If the Sebastiani monarchy is to continue, it has to be handed down through the male line.”
Julia agreed. “That doesn’t mean there won’t be a strong alliance between our two countries,” she said. “Now we are not only linked by marriage, but by blood, thanks to baby Omar. The friendship between Montebello and Tamir can only grow stronger.”
“I hope so,” Butrus said coolly. “I just don’t like this new development.”
He wasn’t the only one. Moving to join his brother, Desmond couldn’t imagine what new evidence the king was talking about, but he was absolutely livid. Lorenzo would be king, dammit! It was his right. Marcus had raised him like a son, and it was time he let go of this pipe dream that Lucas was still alive and give Lorenzo the position he deserved in the family. Then, when his dearly loved brother ascended to the throne, he, Desmond, would have the position he, too, deserved. He would be the next best thing to king! That was only just. After all, as the oldest son of the king’s deceased brother, Antonio, he was also the king’s nephew. It wasn’t his fault his mother had been a household maid, he thought bitterly. If he had been legitimate instead of his father’s bastard child, he would the one the king was now considering as his heir to the throne.
His resentment of that was, however, something he had kept well hidden over the years. So when his brother joined him again, he greeted him with a pretended look of pleased surprise. “This is wonderful news, Lorenzo! So what is this new evidence the king was talking about? Does he really have proof that Lucas is alive?”
“You know I’m not at liberty to say anything about the investigation,” he said. “All I can say is that there’s some new evidence.”
“Oh, come on,” Desmond chided him. “I’m your brother. You can trust me. I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“I didn’t say that you would,” he replied smoothly. “But the case has been reopened, and I don’t talk about active cases. Especially when the palace is virtually surrounded by reporters. The very walls have ears.”
Left with no choice, Desmond graciously accepted the fact that he would have to wait just like everyone else to find out what this new evidence was. But he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it all. Forcing a smile, he said, “You know best, little brother. I’m sure you’ll tell me when you can.”
From across the room, the Ramsey brothers silently gauged the guests’ reaction, and neither liked what they saw. “That one bothers me,” Kyle said quietly, flicking a look toward Desmond. “His eyes are cold as hell.”
“He’s close to the king,” Tyler reminded him.
Unimpressed, Kyle shrugged. “That’s only one more reason to watch him…along with everyone else. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s not the only one who’s less than happy with the king’s announcement.”
Tyler had noticed, all right, and he didn’t mind admitting he was worried. Some of the Kamals had been openly speculative, and where there was speculation, there was still distrust. “Peace with Tamir is still fragile. Anyone who wanted to shatter the Kamals’ relationship with Montebello could find a way to use this to their advantage.”
His expression grim, Kyle had already thought of that. “It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” It went without saying that they had their work cut out for them.
* * *
Cooling her heels at the airport, Eliza could just imagine the scene at the palace when the king announced that his son was alive. The place was probably in an uproar. Simon was going to hate that she missed that, but she hadn’t wanted to push her luck by asking to be present when the king gave his friends and allies the news. Not when she’d been granted an exclusive in the search for Prince Lucas! That alone was going to be worth a small fortune in headlines.
And the only fly in the ointment was that she had to work with Duke Lorenzo.
Irritating man, she thought, grimacing. She didn’t know how he’d developed a reputation as a flirt with the ladies. Granted, he had the Sebastiani looks—her heart had shifted in her breast just at the sight of him. Then he’d opened his mouth and ruined all her expectations.
That didn’t, however, mean that she wouldn’t be able to work with him. He had an attitude, but she’d dealt with worse. He might be a duke and come from a long line of royalty, but she was confident she could handle him. For the kind of headlines this story was going to generate, she could handle the devil himself.
“Speak of the devil,” she muttered to herself as she spied Lorenzo making his way toward her through the crowded airport. Carrying a small suitcase in his hand, he looked like he owned the place, she thought, then had to grin ruefully. He was a Sebastiani. Maybe he did!
His green eyes narrowing at the sight of her, she wasn’t surprised when he appeared to be less than pleased to see her. The only reason he was even associating with her at all was because the king had ordered him to. Lovely, she sighed. This was going to be just lovely. This was going to be worse than working with Deborah.
“Your Grace,” she said by way of a greeting. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Let’s go, then,” he said curtly, and motioned for her to follow him.
So much for common courtesy, she thought with a grimace as he led the way to the boarding gate the royal jet had been brought into. It was going to be a long flight. Hopefully, though, once they were on the plane, she wouldn’t have to deal with him until they got to Denver. She’d been too excited to sleep during the flight over, and exhaustion was quickly catching up with her. Lorenzo would, in his search for the prince, no doubt hit the ground running when they reached Denver, so she was going to need all the rest she could get. Hopefully, the