true or not.”
Her gaze jerked up from the photo to meet his. “How?”
He pulled the chain from beneath his shirt. “We can see if my key fits the lock.”
Please don’t fit. Please don’t fit. Please don’t fit.
The mantra had been running through Izzy’s mind for the last half hour, ever since driving home with Boyd and Jovan to retrieve the box. Now she sat in Rowdy’s office with the wooden box on her lap waiting for the others to join her.
That still doesn’t explain why you would give the box to me.
Because I am your husband.
Her husband. Izzy’s vision blurred. She felt light-headed.
She clutched the wooden box with its mother-of-pearl inlaid design. She didn’t want to drop it onto the hard tile floor. All these years, she’d carted it around, carefully, but not overly so. The value had been sentimental, not monetary.
Now…
Izzy Poussard, a princess and a crown prince’s wife?
No way.
Okay, some women—maybe many women—would be excited to discover they were a long lost princess from some faraway foreign land and married to a handsome prince. But not Izzy. Oh, sure, she wanted a happily ever after, but her fairy tale didn’t involve enchanted castles, sparkling jewelry and Prince Charming. Her dream revolved around wearing a fire suit in team colors, working over the wall on a pit stop, becoming a crew chief and standing in the winner’s circle with champagne being squirted everywhere.
The door to Rowdy’s office opened. Niko, Jovan and her boss entered.
“It’ll be just a few more minutes, Izzy,” Rowdy said. “Duncan Moore is on his way.”
“Thanks.” Izzy had asked Rowdy to call one of their customers who was a big-name attorney in Charlotte. She needed to talk to a lawyer before Niko and Jovan tried to take the box from her. To her surprise, Niko had offered to cover all her legal expenses. Izzy hadn’t wanted to accept the prince’s charity. She hadn’t relied on anyone since Uncle Frank’s death. But she didn’t have extra money lying around to cover surprise legal fees. Duncan Moore wasn’t only one of the best lawyers, he was also one of the most high-priced attorneys in town. Being prideful was one thing. Being stupid was another. “And thank you, Niko, for covering my legal expenses.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I am not here to cause you grief or unwanted expenditures.”
Izzy wanted to believe him. The corners of her lips lifted into a closed-mouth smile.
He smiled back.
Butterflies flapped in her stomach. Uh-oh. She’d better watch it. Being attracted to a man claiming to be her husband would only complicate things and might lead to her losing ownership of the box.
“Duncan’s here,” Rowdy announced.
Thank goodness, Izzy thought.
Duncan Moore, bald, in his late fifties and on his third marriage, strutted into the office. On any other man a polka-dot bow tie would have looked ridiculous with a suit, but it worked well on the successful attorney.
“Sorry for the delay, everyone. Izzy.” Duncan looked at Niko and bowed. “Your Royal Highness.”
Niko acknowledged Duncan with a nod. “This is my aide and lawyer, Jovan Novak.”
Jovan shook Duncan’s hand.
Unease crept down Izzy’s spine. The seriousness of the situation ratcheted up a notch with two lawyers present.
“We may proceed now,” Niko said.
The tension in the office quadrupled. Izzy’s legs shook so much the box on her lap jiggled up and down. She placed the box on Rowdy’s desk and opened the lid. She removed the velvet-covered tray so the keyhole showed. “I didn’t realize the tray came out or there was a keyhole until after Uncle Frank died. He allowed me to look at the box, but never touch it.”
“Did your uncle say the box belonged to your mother?” Duncan asked.
“No, but I assumed so.” Izzy hoped her words wouldn’t give more credence to the prince’s claims. “Uncle Frank just said it was important.”
Niko held the key he’d worn around his neck. “Let us see how important.”
His hand was as steady as a neurosurgeon’s. If it had been her, she would be trembling. Who was she kidding? She was trembling.
He inserted the key in the hole.
Izzy was tempted to close her eyes. She held her breath instead. She wanted to know what was inside the bottom portion of the box, but she didn’t want anything the prince had told her to be true.
He turned the key.
Click.
“The key fits,” Niko announced.
The air whooshed from Izzy’s lungs.
No, this can’t be happening. It can’t be true.
The bottom portion of the box slid out. A hidden drawer.
“Would ya look at that,” Rowdy said with a hint of awe to his deep voice.
Even though she had been waiting for this moment for a few years now, she was afraid to look. All her curiosity had vanished, replaced by trepidation. She didn’t care what was in the box. She only wanted things to go back to the way they’d been before Prince Niko arrived.
“It’s the same tiara,” Jovan said from across the office.
No. Isabel didn’t want to see so she squeezed her eyes shut. Her chest constricted. She shuddered.
Someone touched her shoulder and squeezed gently. Rowdy. Both he and Boyd could be big old teddy bears. She opened her eyes, but saw Niko with his hand on her instead of her boss.
“Isabel.” Concern filled Niko’s voice. “Would you rather wait?”
The tenderness of his gaze brought tears to her eyes. The situation, she rationalized, not him. Still she appreciated his gesture of comfort, drew strength from it, too. “No.”
Straightening, Izzy looked into the drawer past the small diamond tiara to find papers, photographs and jewelry. Her uncle Frank could have found the box or bought it at a garage sale or even stolen it in desperation. Maybe that was why she had no key.
No, she was just being silly now. None of those things would explain the prince knowing her mother’s name or his key fitting the lock. Isabel needed to accept what was in front of her, except.
Niko reached into the drawer.
“Wait, sir,” Duncan shouted.
The prince drew back his hand.
“May I please take a picture of the contents before they are disturbed?” Duncan asked with a camera in hand. “I would like to document everything. For both Izzy’s and your sake.”
“Certainly,” Niko said.
The flash of the camera reminded Izzy of lightning and intensified the emotions warring inside her. She hated storms. Uncle Frank had died during a lightning storm. She swallowed back a tide of grief.
Duncan backed away. “Thank you, sir. Please proceed.”
Niko didn’t. Instead he looked at her. “At one time your parents had a key to the bride box. They placed these contents inside. Only you should remove them.”
Anger flared. She loved Uncle Frank, but he had kept her past a secret. Why? Why hadn’t he trusted her? She wanted to know why this had happened.
“Isabel—”
“I’ll