Expecting Royal Twins! (3 page)

“Worthy goals.” Isabel refocused on the photo. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. My uncle Frank had one picture of my mother that wasn’t destroyed when their parents’ house burned down. She looked nothing like this.”

Niko recalled the dossier containing information about Isabel. She didn’t have any living relatives. Her mother had been an only child and orphaned at nineteen following a train derailment that killed her parents. The Zvonimir side of Isabel’s family tree had been killed during the conflict. Nowhere on either side of her family tree had anyone named Frank appeared.

“Who is Uncle Frank?” Niko asked.

“Frank Miroslav,” Isabel said. “My mom’s older half brother. He raised me after she died.”

Miroslav. Niko recognized the surname, but had no idea how it related to Isabel and her American mother. He glanced at Jovan for clarification.

“The Miroslavs served the Zvonimirs for centuries,” Jovan explained. “There was a deep tie and strong loyalty between the two families even though the relationship was master-servant. Franko Miroslav was Prince Aleksander’s chauffeur, and I would go as far to say his best friend. It is rumored that Franko introduced the prince to Evangeline Poussard.”

Isabel’s mouth dropped open. She closed it.

“That would explain how you escaped out of Vernonia and ended up here,” Niko said. “If they used another driver and a doll for the baby after you left the country—”

“No.” Her lips tightened. “The woman in the photo is not my mother.”

“Are you certain the woman in the picture your uncle Frank showed you is your mother?” Niko watched the range of emotions crossing her face. The vulnerability in her eyes surprisingly pulled at his heart. “I apologize, Isabel. I know this is difficult for you.”

“What you’re saying is impossible. Who would let a Vernonian chauffeur into the U.S. with a baby? Where would they get forged American documents? It’s just not possible.” She looked at the photograph as if trying to discover a secret hidden in it. “Uncle Frank wasn’t a chauffeur. He wasn’t a servant. He was a car mechanic from a little town outside Chicago. The town where he grew up with my mother. His little sister. He was like a father to me. Why would he lie to me about this?”

Niko respected the way she stood up for the man who raised her. Loyalty to one’s family was important and would serve her well. “Perhaps Franko, your Uncle Frank, withheld certain truths for your own protection. You were his princess. A faction in Vernonia would have tried to kill you if they’d known you lived.”

A faction that had been loyal to Niko’s father even if the king hadn’t approved of the group’s methods and violence.

“It’s so unbelievable.”

Niko was not going to convince her with words, but perhaps he could show her. “There is a way to find out if what I say is 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 do it.” She couldn’t decide what to do about this until she knew more. “But only because I need to have all the facts.”

Izzy felt four pairs of eyes staring at her. She was used to the attention. Not many people expected a female mechanic to fix their cars. This was different. Unsettling. But Uncle Frank had taught her to always hold her head high, no matter how uncertain she might feel inside. If only he were here now…

She scooted her chair closer to the desk. With a shaky hand, she raised the tiara from the box. “It’s so tiny.”

Niko nodded. “My parents had the tiara commissioned for you to wear at the wedding. The small diamonds represent all the towns and villages. The three larger diamonds symbolize you, me and Vernonia.”

“It’s hard to tell if it’s exactly the same one in the photo,” she said, knowing she was grasping at straws.

“It’s the same one,” Niko countered.

Izzy set the tiara on the desk. Next she removed foreign coins and dollar bills, a diamond pendant, an emerald bracelet and three stunning rings.

Those jewels would be worth a fortune if real. Maybe that was why Niko wanted the box back so badly. Money could make people do almost anything.

She picked up a photograph, a picture of a man and a woman.

“Those were your parents,” Niko said softly.

Her parents. Izzy wasn’t ready to believe it just yet. She stared at the handsome couple. They were smiling and holding hands. They looked happier than they did in the wedding photograph. “The woman is beautiful.”

“You look like her,” Rowdy said.

“I wish.” Izzy’s heart ached for some memory of the two people the prince claimed were her parents.

“You resemble your mother,” Niko said. “But you have your father’s eyes.”

Izzy felt a rush of excitement. No one had ever seen a resemblance between her and Uncle Frank. She removed more photographs. Baby pictures, family portraits, casual snapshots, of people she didn’t know taken in places she didn’t recognize.

Next came an official looking piece of paper with foreign writing. “I don’t know what it says.”

“Allow me,” Niko offered.

She handed it to him.

He glanced over the document. “It’s your birth certificate. Evangaline Poussard Zvonimir is listed as your mother. Aleksander Nicholas Zvonimir is listed as your father. Your place of birth is Sachestia, Vernonia. That is in the northern part of the country.”

Jovan placed the documents they’d shown her earlier on the desk. “In case you are concerned about the translation and wish to compare, ma’am.”

“My name is Izzy,” she corrected. “I would like to see a translation by an impartial person to confirm the document.”

“How can you still not believe?” Niko asked.

“I’m simply being cautious,” she admitted. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to find me. You could’ve just offered to buy the box and be done with it. And me.”

“You are my wife,” Niko said. “I cannot pretend you do not exist and be done with it or you.”

Izzy grimaced. “Too bad there isn’t some birthmark that would prove without a doubt that I’m royalty.”

“Perhaps there is one.” Wicked laughter lit Niko’s eyes. “I would be happy to search for one.”

Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

His faced reddened, too.

She hadn’t been expecting that reaction from Niko, but his embarrassment made him seem less a dark, formal prince and more…human. That made Izzy feel a little more comfortable with him even if her heart pounded like a piston engine each time she noticed him staring at her.

She removed several pieces of paper stapled together. Again, the words were written in a language she couldn’t read. She handed the pages to Niko.

He flipped through them. “This is your father’s will naming you the sole beneficiary of his estate.”

“I will need a copy of the will, sir,” Duncan said.

“Of course.” Niko handed it to the lawyer then turned his attention on Izzy. “Everyone believed you died with your parents so your father’s estate went to—”

“You,” she said without an ounce of doubt.

“As your husband, your inheritance passed directly to me.”

“What kind of estate are we talking about, Your Highness?” Duncan asked.

Niko glanced at Jovan. “What is the approximate net worth?”

“Approximately twenty-five million euros,” Jovan said.