The Royal Pain (4 page)

The North Dakota Institute for Sea Life
Minot, North Dakota

“…it's just such a thrill for us, Your Majesty!”

“Thank you.” Alex didn't bother to correct the woman, though only reigning monarchs were referred to as “Majesty.” As a lowly princess, Alex would be “Your Highness” unless she became queen which, given the fact that Christina and David were senior to her in the line of succession, was unlikely.

Please, God, let it be unlikely.

Their tour guide had of course been briefed, but people were usually nervous about meeting a member of royalty. Alex herself was nervous about meeting dentists, so she could relate.

And, as an American, Dr. Tiegel didn't have to call her that, or bow…which she had also forgotten. But there was no need to correct her, because…

“Just a reminder, Dr. Tiegel,” Jenny said pleasantly, hurrying to stay abreast of the two women. “Please refer to the princess as Princess Alexandria.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's nothing,” Alex said with a soothing smile. “It's just a lot of silly protocol, isn't it? There are certainly more important things to worry about, don't you think?”

Instantly at ease, Dr. Tiegel, a plump brunette in her forties, giggled. She was wearing the
de rigueur
white lab coat over a dark pink suit. Her cream-colored blouse sported a bow at the throat the size of Dr. Tiegel's head. Her glossy dark hair was in a Dorothy Hamill bob, further proof that the woman was stuck in the seventies.

“I guess I'm a little nervous. They don't—I mean, I'm from Pierre. South Dakota,” she added helpfully. “I've never met a princess before. We're so happy you came to oversee the grand opening.”

“It was my great pleasure, and Alaska's.” She was trying not to wrinkle her nose, knowing she would soon get used to the smell of fish, penguins, and the offal of sea life. They had all posed for the press outside, but now, in the wee hours, they had the aquarium to themselves. It was a spacious, beautiful building, and the animals Alex could see looked clean, alert, and happy. Many of the exhibits were empty; the NDISL was a work in progress.

“This work is so important, to all of us,” she continued. “King Alexander has a special fondness for this sort of thing—he had to pay for the Crown Prince's doctorate in Marine Biology.”

Dr. Tiegel giggled again. “We're so glad you could clear your schedule. I guess your brother's busy with his baby?”

“Yes, and he's overseeing the renovation of six aquariums in Alaska.” In addition to putting up with Christina, Edmund, their father, helping Christina test the recipes for her cookbook, and teaching Dara her ABCs. Not to mention the Geneva thing nobody could get out of.

Suddenly, Alex was glad to be away. A line from Tolkien popped into her head: “The wide world is all about you; you can fence yourself in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.” That sounded like as good a cure for bad dreams as anything.

“We're going to start with the penguin exhibit, if that's all right.”

“Of course, as you wish, Dr. Tiegel. And I have to admit, I got a kick out of it when I heard. A land-locked aquarium struck me as unusual.”

“Oh, no,” Dr. Tiegel said seriously. “There are aquariums in Colorado, Kentucky, Minnesota, Ohio, and Utah, just to name a few. I think you could make a case that they're even more important in places where you wouldn't be able to learn about the oceans on your own.”

“I never thought about it like that. Thank you for enlightening me. Shall we start the tour? Where is Doctor…” She consulted her itinerary. “Dr. Rivers?”

“Oh, um, Dr. Rivers can't—he isn't—I'm going to do the tour. I mean, I'm honored to do the tour.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. It was unusual for an itinerary to change at the last moment, and she could tell her security team—Reynolds, Danielson, and Krenklov—didn't like it one bit. Jenny was murmuring to Danielson, doubtless telling him there was nothing to worry about. Alex didn't especially care. She had never been remotely concerned about her
own
safety.

“I don't want to put you to any trouble,” she said automatically.

“Oh no no no. It's no trouble at all, Princess.”

“Is Dr. Rivers ill?” Jenny asked sharply. She would, Alex knew, take any last minute problems as personally as a slap to the head.

“Oh no no no. No. He's fine. He's just—” Alex looked on with interest while Dr. Tiegel stuttered and stammered. Finally, she took pity on the woman.

“I'm looking forward to seeing the rest of the facility.”

“Oh, it's a wonderful—you'll love it. Well, we all love it, and we hope you do, too. Okay, well, to begin, as you know, this is the North Dakota Institute for Sea Life. We're a nonprofit organization, funded by corporations, private donors, and, of course…” Hazel eyes twinkled. “…Alaska. If you'll follow me, we'll skirt around the outermost edge of the penguin tank…”

Dr. Tiegel opened a small door to the left and led them down a hallway. “These are the labs; most of us work here on various projects as our schedules allow. In fact, some of us sleep here if there's an experiment we don't want to leave.”

“Do you do that in addition to taking care of the animals?”

“We really don't need to spend much hands-on time with the animals; most of the feeding and such is handled by volunteers. One of the many purposes of the NDISL is research. For every one thing we know, there are hundreds of thousands of things—more likely millions—we don't know. Of course we have several on-staff biologists and veterinarians to keep an eye on the animals.”

“How often do—”

Suddenly, one of the doors was yanked open—Alex had time to notice the stark black lettering (Dr. Sheldon Rivers, Director, Global Marine Programs) before someone (presumably Dr. Rivers) was standing in the doorway.

“Do you have to do this shit here?” he snapped, oblivious to the three guns trained on him. “You've got the whole damn place—twelve thousand square feet!—and you have to have your meeting right outside my door?”

“Shel,” Dr. Tiegel began.

“I'm pretty sure I told you about the experiments I can't leave this morning.”

“Yes, Shel, but—”

“I mean, I have this memory of standing in your office and explaining why I couldn't play lapdog to her Royal Annoyingness, right?”

Dr. Tiegel winced and Jenny, who had been signaling the security team to put their guns away, suddenly stopped and looked as though she wished she had a gun of her own.

As for Alex, she was having trouble looking away from the furious, infuriating Dr. Rivers. He was so tall and broad he filled the doorway, his cocoa-colored eyes were glaring at them from behind wire-rim frames, his lashes so long they nearly touched the glass. His long legs were showcased in shockingly tattered blue jeans and gaped at the waist; they were about two sizes too large. He was wearing a faded yellow T-shirt with the logo “Marine Biologists Get Wet.” No lab coat. His hair, light brown with sun-streaked highlights, stood up from his skull as if he'd been running his fingers through it. His lips were almost too thin, set in a scowl that made his mouth disappear, and his eyes were creased with what might have been laugh lines, but were probably frown lines.

“Now get lost,” he said, and shut the door.

On Alex's foot.

S
hel Rivers looked down at the small foot wedged in his doorway, then up at the ridiculously good-looking woman attached to said foot. She didn't look mad or pissed or haughty. Just had a patient look on her face, like “you're gonna get this thing off my foot, right?” Finally, he said, “That's a good way to break something,” after a moment that felt longer than it was.

“Not before you get shot,” she replied, and shouldered her way past him. A good trick, since he had, at best estimation, four inches and thirty pounds on her. He got a whiff of eucalyptus as she brushed by, and he almost reached out to see if her black, shoulder-length hair was as silky as it looked. “Dr. Rivers and I will be right out,” she added, and closed the door on the protests of everyone else in the party.

The princess (princess! in his lab!) looked around the small, cluttered room for a moment, her small hands on shapely hips. Then she glanced back at him. He actually forgot to breathe when those crystal blue eyes fixed on his.

“I don't think we've been properly introduced,” she said pleasantly.

“And I don't think your security team is going to like this at all.”

“I'm Alexandria Baranov—”

“I know.”

“I'm talking now, please. And you're Dr. Rivers. You're also rude and annoying, which is fine, but
nobody
slams a door on me.”

“Especially when your family built half the aquarium,” he snapped, trying not to look at her breasts.

“Irrelevant. I wouldn't tolerate that behavior if
you
were funding
my
work. What a disaster area,” she continued, turning in a circle to take in the whole room. “How do you find anything in here?”

“None of your business.”

“I think we could find some paperwork to prove that isn't true. What's so important? What are you working on?”

“Is playing twenty questions part of the tour?”

“No, it's part of being relatively pleasant. And why did you dodge the tour? You don't even know me.”

Because she was rich. Because he was busy. Because she was a princess and he was a lowly Army brat. Because she was too beautiful. Because she was trouble with a capital T, and he'd had enough of that to last five lifetimes.

She was waving a hand in front of his eyes. “Dr. Rivers? Hellooooo? Is anyone in there? Is it lunchtime already?”

He jerked his head back and gave her a good glare. “I've got more important things to do than play tour guide for a stuck-up VIP.”

He was sure she'd get pissed, but instead, those amazing blue eyes crinkled at the corners and she grinned. “I bet you don't,” she said, and turned to reach for the door handle.

“Okay, okay,” he said, grasping her elbow. She took his wrist and pulled it away, almost absently, and in the bottom of his brain a small red flag popped up. “I'll give you the damned tour. But no annoying questions.”

“You're a fine one to talk about annoying,” she retorted.

“And no potty breaks.”

“I went on the plane.”

“And I'm not going to be doing this all day, either.”

“You can't,” she pointed out. “I'm having lunch with Dr. Tomlin in three hours.”

“Another rich fat cat,” he muttered.

“Did you just call me fat?”

“Hardly. In fact, when was the last time you had a meal?” She was gorgeous—she more than lived up to her moniker as one of the most beautiful women in the world—but too skinny. The planes in her face made her blue eyes seem enormous. “Or even a milkshake?”

“I don't know,” she said absently. “It's probably on the schedule somewhere.”

Another red flag popped, and he was so intrigued he almost forgot about his experiments. “Well, there's a snack bar on the second floor. Maybe we can grab some fries or something. Although, once you have to watch Dr. Tomlin eat, you're gonna lose your appetite. Assuming you ever had one.”

“That's all right, Dr. Rivers.”

“Shel.”

“Shel. You don't have to worry. I'm not even hungry. And I'm Alex, by the way.”

He shook her small, cool hand. His wrist was almost twice the width of hers. Definitely needed a few milkshakes, among other things.

“It's nice to meet you, Alex.”

“What a lie, Dr. Rivers.”

He smiled in spite of himself.

The Sitka Palace
Juneau, Alaska

“S
o, how's she doing?” the king asked, glancing up from the bill he was reading.

Edmund handed him two reams of paperwork. “Fine, Your Majesty. They landed without incident; she's at the facility right now.”

“When's she due back?”

“Nineteen days, Sire.”

“Nineteen days? How long's it take to look at a bunch of fish?”

“Your Majesty—”

“I mean, I know we talked about her meeting up with all the funders and—and whatever the hell else she's doing out there, but nineteen friggin' days?”

“She'll be fine, Sire.”

The king glowered, blue eyes—eyes he'd passed on to all his children—narrowing. “I'm pretty sure I didn't agree to the kid disappearing into the wilds of North Dakota for almost three weeks. I agreed to a quick trip. I agreed things couldn't go on the way they were. I agreed the shrink wasn't helping. I did not agree to the kid disappearing for practically a damn month.”

“Sire, you agreed she was ready for a change.”

“I smell you and Jenny all over this one, buddy boy, don't think I don't.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“I would have remembered a nineteen-day itinerary. I'm not that fucking senile.”

“Don't underestimate yourself, Sire.”

“Knock it off, Edmund. A quick trip to this aquarium place,
that's
what we talked about.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“The kid's only twenty-three, she's never been away from home for more than—than—what?”

“Fifteen days. And Her Highness is twenty-five.”

“Oh, sure, throw that in my face, you scheming son of a bitch.”

“Sire, it was bad enough when you arranged for the professors to come to the palace so she could earn her degree without ever moving out. Nineteen days, at her age, is nothing. She'll be fine, Sire.”

The king drummed his blunt fingers on the desk. “It's just that she's had a tough year.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“You know, she's not sleeping, she's not eating—we gotta keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“I know she looks tough, but she's fragile.”

“Like a precious baby duck, Sire.”

The king's frown deepened. “What are you up to, Edmund?”

“Not a tiny thing, Sire.”

“Just because you're six times smarter than me doesn't mean I can't kick your ass.”

“I'm well aware, Sire.”

“Okay, I won't jump a plane to bring her back—”

“You can't, Sire, you have a meeting with the Tourism Commission in thirty minutes.”

“—but I want updates on what she's doing at least twice a day.”

“Creepy, Sire.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Just keep me informed. You know, pretend like I'm your boss or something and you have to do what I say or you're breaking the law.”

“Jenny will keep us updated, Sire, and Her Highness will do as she pleases.”

“My ass!”

“Have you met Princess Alexandria, Sire?”

“She'll do what she's told. I'm her king and I'll do you one better than that…” He jabbed a thumb the size of a small banana at his chest. “I'm her
father.
”

“I'm sure she will tremble and obey, Sire.”

“My ass,” he said again, quietly.

“I dream of the day we can have a meeting without talking about your ass. As to the other, most likely the princess's independence is a recessive gene of some kind, sure to be stamped out in future generations.”

“Aw, shutcher face. And I mean it about keeping me up to date.”

“It will be as you command, my king.”

“That'd be the fucking day.”