Operation: Monarch. Valerie Parv
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would she do if he turned out to be the heir to the throne? Request a transfer back to active policing, she thought. She couldn’t imagine working with him, guarding him, even if he would allow it. He was used to fending for himself, keeping his private life private.
Who would get the greater shock? Garth because his life would be an open book as soon as his heritage was established, or the Carramer people who would have to deal with having a lone wolf as their monarch?
While Serena was lost in thought Alice had moved away to serve another customer, a fisherman, judging by his appearance. The practical setup of the place began to make sense. You could come straight from your boat to a table without worrying about sea-soaked clothes or muddy boots. Serena leaned back. “This is nice.” The salt tang of the air, smelling faintly of fish, was refreshing. Gulls wheeled over the boats, diving on scraps as fishermen cleaned their catches. In its own way, the scene was as beautiful as if the commercial boats had been millionaires’ yachts.
He nodded. “Alice is like a mother to half the fleet. Alice and my mother used to go to the Marine Benevolent Society together to visit the old sailors. She was a good friend to my folks.”
And to him, she heard. “Where do you keep your dive boat?”
As soon as his accusing gaze flayed her, she knew she’d made a mistake. “When it’s not in dry dock, it’s moored around the point, but you know that already. Is there anything your inquiries haven’t told you about me?”
She couldn’t stop herself. “Two things—why you have such a colossal chip on your shoulder, and what you’ve got against me personally.”
He cupped his hands around his coffee mug. Large, practical hands designed for hard work. But not callused or workworn. He might forget to shave in the morning, but his hands looked cared for. She remembered the well-maintained diving gear in the back of his truck. He cared for what was important to him.
“My chip is my business.”
He’d deliberately answered only part of her question, she noted. “You said we could exchange life stories over coffee.”
“You first.”
She wasn’t going to get anything out of him that he didn’t want to share, she understood. She was surprised how much she wanted to share. Maybe if she set an example. “As I told you, I went to the police academy. Graduated third in my class. Worked in uniform for a couple of years then in plain clothes undercover. Then got an invitation to join the R.P.D.” One of only a select few.
He nodded. “Nothing there I couldn’t find out on the public record. What about marriage, children?”
Don’t read anything into the question, she ordered herself. He was probably trying to even the score. “They’d be on public record, too, if I had any.”
“So presumably you don’t. What happened? Afraid of spoiling your model figure?”
She refused to give him the satisfaction of baiting her. “You never know when you’ll need something to fall back on.” She knew she’d said the right thing when she saw respect spark in his gaze. She crossed her forearms on the table. “Your turn.”
“Joined the navy. Thrown out of the navy. Not much more to tell.”
She tossed his own words back at him. “What about marriage, children?”
“Didn’t want to spoil my model figure,” he said, grinning.
Despite herself, she returned his smile. It felt good to laugh with him. She may not have learned much but the ice felt well and truly broken. She was surprised when he said, “I had my share of relationships, one even looked as if it would last. Remember Julia Francis?”
Quick flare of jealousy, just as quickly squashed. “The redhead star of the track team?”
“The same. We lost touch for a few years until she joined the navy, so we had that in common, among other things.”
She didn’t like imagining the other things. “What happened?”
“When I was kicked out of the service, she thought associating with me might tarnish her career. She didn’t mince words. Told me bluntly why it had to be over.”
Underneath that gruff exterior he had feelings and they had been hurt, Serena concluded. Her hand was halfway across the table before she pulled back, sure he wouldn’t welcome her touch, however well-meaning. “I gather it was a long relationship until then.”
“On and off for a few years, depending on what we were doing. Luckily Julia hadn’t wanted children, so the ending was painless.”
He hadn’t said whether he wanted children. And she doubted whether the break had been as painless as he made it sound. She looked at her watch, wishing they could talk for longer.
He caught the gesture. “I know this is boring stuff.”
This time she did touch his hand. “I’m not bored. I don’t want to keep the prince waiting.”
She reached for her purse, but he had already dropped money on the table. “I’ll buy the next round,” she said, wondering what had happened to delivering him to Lorne and moving on.
There wouldn’t be a next round if he had anything to do with it, Garth thought. He had brought Serena to Alice’s kiosk to remind himself that she didn’t fit into his world, then had been surprised by how comfortable she had looked.
Thirteen years ago she would have recoiled in disgust at the stained plastic furniture and the thick stoneware mugs Alice served her coffee in. She wouldn’t have breathed in the fish-tainted air as if it were perfume.
Could Serena have changed so much? Her grooming still screamed class. Even glistening with perspiration in the gym, she had looked like a million dollars. And she still had the longest legs he’d ever seen. She’d always had a great body, and her work had honed her shape to a new level of perfection.
When he had pulled her against him in the gym, his hormones had gone into orbit. He’d wanted to take her in his arms more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.
He hadn’t exactly been honest with her. The thing with Julia Francis had been more off than on, and she had ended it about twenty-four hours before Garth could suggest it himself. They had been good in bed together, but out of it, had disagreed about almost everything.
Pride had driven him to let Serena think he had a string of relationships behind him. And stopped him from telling her why he hadn’t. What would she think if he told her she had been his yardstick for the perfect woman all these years, and he had yet to find anyone who measured up.
Time and again he’d cursed his foolishness in letting her haunt him. As he’d told her, one kiss hardly amounted to the romance of the century. It hadn’t stopped him from looking for her in the background whenever there was a story about the monarch on TV or in the papers. After she sent the wreath, he hadn’t responded because he’d feared the effect she might have on him. With good reason, he now saw.
Now she was here, he hated feeling so stupidly glad about it. He couldn’t let it lead to anything. Her pedigree hadn’t changed and neither had his. As a navy lieutenant he might have had something to offer her, but not anymore, thanks to Admiral McRafe. He had presided over the inquiry that had ended Garth’s career, supposedly because his error led to a trainee almost dying during Advanced Nitrox Training.
The admiral hadn’t wanted to hear about Garth’s suspicions of the stage bottle that carried the nitrox mix, probably because the admiral’s brother-in-law’s company had supplied the equipment, something Garth hadn’t found out until too late. He had gone to the admiral with the truth, mainly to stop anybody else from getting hurt. To Garth’s disgust, the admiral had denied everything and had him escorted off the base. Later, he had heard from a friend still in the service that the defective stage bottles had been quietly replaced and a new supplier found. It was something, he supposed.
He