Chapter 2
“Ortiz! You have a visitor.” The airport official ducked into the cockpit where Erica Ortiz was running maintenance checks on the jet that she flew for her boss, Gabriel, the royal Duke of Bencalor.
The official jerked his thumb in the direction of the ultraprivate lounge where traveling VIPs waited—usually quite briefly—for their flights.
“An important one, so you should hustle.”
Erica set her tablet on the copilot’s seat and followed the manager into the plane’s cabin. “Who is it?”
“I was asked not to reveal that,” he said in a stuffy tone before he relented. “I will tell you that your visitor is royalty.”
Since she piloted the royal duke’s jet, that didn’t impress her as much as it did most people.
Except for the king. She had met him once, and he was intimidating as hell.
In any case, she glanced down at her teal-green T-shirt, khaki trousers, and running shoes and wished she were wearing her pilot’s uniform instead.
At least she had pulled her long dark hair into a neat French braid that morning, mostly to keep it out of her way as she and the mechanics peered into all the inner workings of the airplane that would carry the duke and his new wife, Quinn Pierson, on their honeymoon in two weeks.
“Which generation royalty?” Erica probed as she trotted down the plane’s steps behind the manager.
He gave her a tight smile. “Older.”
Mierda! She really didn’t want to face the king dressed in a T-shirt. Hopefully, it would be some other royal.
Erica mentally braced herself as they crossed the tarmac to the lounge entrance. The manager swiped her in through the door with his security badge and departed. Erica stepped onto the thick green carpeting and took a deep breath as a red-haired woman rose from one of the leather sofas.
The new queen!
Queen Eve wore an elegant blue suit with matching pumps and a cream silk blouse. Her hair fell in polished waves over her shoulders. What struck Erica most was the queen’s warm smile.
“Ms. Ortiz,” the queen said, walking toward her.
Erica sank into a curtsy. “Su Majestad.”
“No need for all the ceremony.” The queen waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s just the two of us here. And I have a favor to ask of you. Come sit with me.”
A favor for the queen? Baffled, Erica sat on the sofa where Queen Eve indicated. “How may I help you, Senora? ”
“Gabriel tells me that you grew up near the Ghost Mountains—sorry, las Montanas de los Fantasmas.” Eve shook her head. “I’m still getting used to the Spanish names.”
The queen’s Spanish pronunciation was surprisingly good, given her American Midwestern accent. Even more confused, Erica nodded. “Yes, Senora. ”
“I understand that you regularly go camping there,” the queen continued.
“When I have time,” Erica said. She and her father had often camped together in the mountains before his death. Now it was a way to connect with his memory, as complicated as that was.
“And that you are a certified outdoor adventure guide.”
“That’s correct.” Erica had all the necessary skills and knowledge, so she had taken the certification test just for the fun of it. Where is this leading?
The queen cleared her throat. “The king and I would like Prince Raul to take a short vacation in a place where he cannot be easily reached by the outside world. He needs some time to unplug, and a camping trip is his request. We hope that you might be willing to lead the trip into the mountains. Two of his bodyguards will accompany you, so they can do whatever heavy lifting you need. But we want him to have an expert guide who knows the area well.”
Erica stared at the queen in astonishment as she tried to form a sentence. “I, uh, of course, I would be happy to do so, but I would not consider myself an expert. I’ve never led anyone on an expedition, other than friends. My camping trips have been mostly personal and recreational.”
If you could call anything her father had done recreational. He had pushed himself hard and expected her to keep up with him.
“Gabriel thinks highly of you. He would not have recommended you if he didn’t trust your competence,” Eve said.
This is why you shouldn’t tell your boss anything about your personal life.
One day, when the duke had been waiting for his fiancée to arrive at the airport, Erica had entertained him with the story of her most recent trip to the Ghost Mountains.
“There must be other people with more experience than I have.”
“We need someone with the necessary security clearances,” the queen admitted. “And the ability to leave in two days’ time. Gabriel said he would be happy to give you time off from your duties to him. We will compensate you well, of course.”
Did Erica have a choice? A royal request was really a command.
But the prospect of being responsible for the Crown Prince of Caleva, even with two bodyguards, was daunting.
“I would be honored to be of service,” Erica said, her formal words covering up her reluctance to take on such a responsibility.
Eve’s face lit up. “Wonderful! I will put you in touch with Raul’s assistant, Yvette. You can let her know what supplies you need, and she will make sure you have them.”
“Muchas gracias, Senora.” The area of the Montanas de los Fantasmas where Erica usually camped was closed to the public right now because it was nesting season for the Calevan dragons.
However, if the prince wanted to go camping, it would be easy to get special permission to do so.
Because Erica knew the area well, she would make sure to avoid the marked nesting sites.
“The king and I are concerned that Raul is working too hard. I don’t know if you saw the news about his collapse at the Medallo de los Lirios ceremony, but it was due to exhaustion as well as dehydration.” Eve’s face was taut with concern.
Erica nodded again. There had been myriad recordings of the prince beginning to fall before one of the medal recipients caught him.
That had to have been a terrible public humiliation for the very self-possessed, confident Raul.
She had met the prince a couple of times when he had flown on the jet with Gabriel.
He had been smooth, charming…and very good-looking.
But being responsible for his safety up in the mountains? That was a terrifying responsibility.
“Will you make sure that he takes it easy on the trip?” Eve asked. “He pushes himself very hard, but this is a time for him to recover. And make sure he drinks lots of water.”
Great. Now she was responsible for his level of exertion and hydration as well as his safety.
“I am trusting you to be subtle about it,” the queen went on. “And please don’t mention this little chat we’ve had to anyone.”
Ay, and now her duties had to be a secret.
Monday morning, Erica stood in an empty gravel parking lot, watching the early morning mists swirl across the trailhead at las Montanas de los Fantasmas, and remembered the queen’s admonitions.
Did Su Majestad know that Raul had requested—which meant commanded—that she include equipment for rock climbing?
Not the most restful of recreational activities—and one that could put at least his limbs, if not more body parts, at risk.
She had agreed only because she and her father had climbed together, and he had pounded the concept of safety into her brain. Also, she had backup in the two bodyguards, one of whom was an experienced climber himself.
She was rubbing the tense muscles in the back of her neck when the crunch of tires sounded on gravel.
Three gleaming black vehicles emerged from the mist to park parallel to her dusty blue SUV.
Multiple doors swung open at the same time, disgorging a swarm of bodyguards, who spread out around the area.
One even shimmied up a tree to attach a camera to the trunk.
At some invisible signal, a final door opened, and Raul, el Principe de los Lirios , stepped out.
He looked damn good in the high-end hiking clothes purchased from the list she had sent to his assistant.
The gray moisture-wicking trousers outlined the ridges of muscle in his long futbol player’s legs.
His shoulders filled out the burgundy Merino wool T-shirt impressively as he shrugged into a steel-gray fleece jacket.
Fitting a ball cap with the Calevan national futbol team’s raging lizard logo over his blond-streaked brown hair, he scanned the parking lot. His gaze was puzzled as it settled on her.
“Su Alteza Real,” she said with a quick curtsy. “I’m your guide, Erica Ortiz.”
“I was expecting Eric, not Eric-ah.” He looked…disgruntled.
“So was my father. He had to make a last-minute adjustment when I was born,” she said in a light tone, although she was well aware that her father had been disappointed that she wasn’t a boy. “I guess someone missed typing the a on your itinerary.”
Raul narrowed his ice-blue eyes as he searched her face. “I feel as though I know you from somewhere.”
In her best authoritative but polite pilot’s voice, she gave him a hint. “ Senores , please take your seats and fasten your seat belts. As you know, we will be making evasive maneuvers as we ascend, so make sure all beverages are secured. Thank you for your attention.”
He snapped his fingers. “You’re Gabriel’s pilot! So how did you end up as my guide for a camping expedition in the mountains?”
“I’m a certified outdoor adventure guide, and I know the area.” She couldn’t resist adding, “I also have the proper security clearances and could get time off from my job on short notice.”
His famous smile lit up his face, although it didn’t erase the dark circles under his eyes. “You got pressed into service on short notice,” he said. “My apologies for disrupting your schedule.”
“No apology necessary. I enjoy camping here, and your presence allows me to do so when the area is closed to the public.” She did her best to give him a sincere smile in return, attempting to be diplomatic.