Code Name: Prince

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With 25 million copies of her books sold internationally, including many Waldenbooks bestsellers, it’s no wonder Valerie Parv is known as Australia’s queen of romance and is the recognized media spokesperson for all things romantic.

Valerie lives in Australia’s capital city of Canberra, where she is a volunteer zoo guide. She draws on this and other aspects of her life for many of her novels, having spent almost thirty-eight years happily married to her romantic hero, Paul. As she says, “Love gives you wings—romance helps you fly.”

To Sandy, Barry and Phyllis

with love and thanks for your friendship and support.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Ben Lockhart’s first waking thought was how much he would like to get his hands on whoever was using a jackhammer inside his head. He opened his eyes then snapped them shut again. Letting the light in was a really bad idea. So was moving.

He made himself lie still and think. As a navy man he wasn’t anybody’s idea of an angel, but he could usually remember what he’d done to get this hungover, especially when the party was as spectacular as last night’s must have been. Yet try as he might, he couldn’t recall a single detail.

Then it came back to him. He couldn’t remember the party because there hadn’t been one. He had been doubling for his cousin, Prince Nicholas Stanbury, Prince Regent; acting for the king of Edenbourg while King Michael was missing and believed kidnapped.

The pounding in Ben’s head reminded him painfully that his last memory was of being dragged into a limousine that had infiltrated the royal cavalcade. Falling for the pretense that he was Prince Nicholas, his captors had blindfolded and bound him then injected him with a knockout drug, leaving him to wake up here, wherever here was.

Ben felt a frown start, wishing that his headache had been due to over-indulgence. It would have been easier to deal with than the task ahead of him. Now he had to find out who was behind these attacks on the royal family.

Easy enough if you said it quickly, Ben thought, wincing as movement sent a fresh wave of pain surging through his skull. What in the name of Edenbourg had they given him? He opened his eyes more cautiously, hoping he could get a look at his watch and try to work out how long he’d been unconscious, only to find his hands were securely tied to the white wrought-iron bedstead on which he lay. A battered teddy bear sat on the pillow beside his head.

Teddy bear? What sort of kidnappers kept a teddy bear? Ignoring the urge to close his eyes again, he waited until the room stopped spinning, then made himself take stock. He was lying on a diminutive bed. His feet overhung the end by a good six inches, the bed evidently being meant for someone a lot smaller than his six-foot frame.

Beside the bed stood a white-painted dresser. On it sat a stuffed dog, a homemade rag doll and a water glass that made him lick his dry lips, wishing he could reach it. Above the dresser was a multi-paned window hung with dainty floral curtains that matched the frilled coverlet beneath him. On the opposite wall were two doors. One he presumed led to a closet and the other into the rest of the house. Right now, both doors were closed.

Twisting his body to try to see out the window and get an idea of where he was only resulted in making the rope bite deeper into his wrists, adding to his discomfort. He made himself lie still. His captors hadn’t gone to this much trouble to let him die of starvation or thirst. Sooner or later somebody was bound to come in and check on him. Until then it made more sense to rest and let the drug work its way out of his system.

He didn’t have long to wait.

After what he judged to be about half an hour he saw the china handle on one of the doors begin to turn. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing with the idea of buying himself a few minutes to assess his captor.

He heard tentative footsteps on the polished wood floor as someone approached the bed, but the first thing that hit him was the scent of roses. It struck him as being as incongruous as the teddy bear. He was so startled that he almost opened his eyes to get a look at the source of the delicious scent teasing his nostrils like a breath of spring.

“I know you’re awake.”

The soft, musical voice so exactly matched the scent that another shock wave rippled through him, as well as something much more basic. He schooled himself to resist it. Obviously, his captor was a woman, but that didn’t mean he had to react like a man. The problem seemed to be convincing his body. This time he did open his eyes, barely remembering to do it slowly to create the impression that he was only now coming around.

What met his eyes was so unexpected that he would have jerked upright if not for the ropes binding him to the bed. Leaning over him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Tall and willowy, she had hair the color of ripe corn scattered with paler highlights, over eyes as blue as a summer sky. He saw that they were clouded now with something—fear? It seemed odd, given that he was the captive.