“All right,” she said, stretching her wrist and breaking out her laptop. “Kate, at university with your father. We’ve got some points of cross-reference. And we know that she married someone else, but might have moved to Reinia at some point. All right!”

  So the two dug into the list they’d gotten from the paper. There were several Kates on the list, but none seemed to match his father’s university attendance, although they might be missing something.

  After two hours, Ben rubbed at his sandy eyes, feeling disgruntled. “You know, there’s no guarantee she was at that party,” he realized with a groan. “Even if she was in Reinia at the time. Or London. Or already married. Or not. And we’re not sure if it’s Katherine or Kathleen or even Katrina. God, it’s like every time we get a lead, it opens a new can of worms!”

  “Take it easy,” Jane soothed, even as her face looked contemplative. “You know, we know her name is Kate, and we’ve got an idea of when she would’ve had the baby. Maybe we’ve been approaching this the wrong way.”

  “What do you mean?” He propped himself up on one elbow, studying her.

  She bit at her full lower lip. “I mean, she might’ve had the sonogram when she was in London, since she did live there, but what if she had the baby in Reinia? The hospitals in your country are extremely well-funded, and surely your father would have wanted them to have the best care, and maybe wanted their daughter to have dual citizenship as well.”

  He frowned as he did the calculations. “Probably,” he said. “It’s as plausible a possibility as any of the others we’ve come up with.”

  “So we don’t need to break into that clinic in London to get her birth record,” Jane said, then laughed. “We just need to break into the birth records here and track her down.”

  He stiffened.

  “Of course, you weren’t really thrilled with the idea when we were in England,” Jane added ruefully. “Besides, I don’t even know which hospital...”

  “Actually, you’ve got a good point,” he admitted, as his mind raced through the possibilities. If his half-sister had been born in Reinia, some thirty-five years ago... There were some smaller regional emergency rooms and clinics, but odds were good she’d have been born at the Reinia National Hospital. It wasn’t a large country, after all.

  Which meant that she’d be in the National Hospital Records.

  He blinked. “That’s actually a great idea,” he breathed.

  “It is?” Jane looked startled, then grinned. “I mean, of course it is.” She winked at him.

  He was too fixated. “Technically, birth records are public,” he said. “But they don’t let just anyone go through them. It takes a lot of paperwork.”

  “Paperwork you don’t want to fill out because you don’t want a public paper trail,” Jane finished with a nod. “You don’t want anyone else to find out about your half-sister. So we’re kind of back where we started from.”

  “No, no,” he mused. “You’re right. We could... sort of borrow the records.”

  Now her eyes widened. “Are you saying you’re okay with us breaking and entering?” She sounded a cross between scandalized and excited.

  “We’re not going in like cat burglars,” he admonished, reluctantly smiling as she burst out into trilling laughter. “But a certain amount of espionage will probably be necessary. There’s only one hospital where she would’ve been born. We just need to go through their records, quietly, with no one the wiser.”

  “That means we’re going to need to know the location of the records, how they’re set up, and then a way to bypass any security protocols in place,” she mused, obviously thinking through the plan. “We’ll also need one epic, cinematic distraction. I’m talking Ocean’s Eleven level distraction.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. Then he blinked as an idea struck him.

  “We don’t need a huge distraction. We’ve got me.”

  She tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Here’s another rule of royalty,” he said with a smug grin. “If you ask, anyone in your country will pretty much let you do whatever you want, whenever you want.”

  “Yes, but we’re trying not to tell them what we’re up to,” she pointed out. “If you charge in and say you want access to the records, there’s bound to be questions...”

  “I know,” he said, waving his hand impatiently. “Which is why we won’t tell them that we’re looking for records. We’ll say…” He paused, thinking over possibilities. “We’ll say that I want to give a big speech to thank all the medical staff. Which I should, actually,” he added thoughtfully. “They’re an amazing group, and they provide incredible care. Anyway, we’ll make sure that all nonessential staff, including records room staff, attend the speech. And then, while I’m doing my song and dance, you’ll go to the records room, get the information, and get out, with no one the wiser.”

  She looked impressed, which made his chest warm. “That’s not bad,” she conceded. “One problem: how are we going to get past security clearance?”

  “Again, they let you do what you want,” he said. “I’ll say that I wanted to tour the facilities more, at my leisure, and they’ll give me a security card.”

  “That could definitely work,” she agreed. “I’ll look up births and correlating mothers’ names for the time period that matches your sister’s probable birth date, maybe a few weeks give or take in case she was premature or late. This could definitely work.”

  He smiled. “You don’t have to sound so surprised, you know,” he pointed out with a grin. “I may not be an investigative journalist, but I do have the occasional good idea.”

  She shrugged dismissively. “Eh. Once in a while.” Then she shot him a cheeky grin.

  “Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” he said, poking her, only to have her shriek out in laughter. He stared at her, startled.

  “What? I’m ticklish,” she muttered.

  He couldn’t help it. He grinned back, no doubt wickedly.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said, holding up a pillow to defend herself. “I give as good as I get, buster. Come at me at your own risk.”

  Well, with an invitation like that...

  He launched before he even realized he was moving, his fingers gently tickling at her sides until she yelped. The pillow came down on his head like a hammer, causing him to laugh in response. He kept tickling as she wriggled.

  Unfortunately, she was nimble and determined. She managed to wrench herself free, then pelted him with the pillow until he was breathless with laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed, especially considering they were in the middle of a serious investigation that had caused him so much upset. She was able to help him get out of his own head, no matter what. She didn’t realize just how good she was for him.

  Hell. He hadn’t realized just how good she was for him.

  “Mercy,” he finally choked out, still laughing.

  She was straddling him, he suddenly noticed, her arms crossed under her chin on top of his chest, a wayward curl in front of her eye that she haphazardly blew at. It fluttered for a second, then fell back in her face. She was out of breath, warm and soft, and she smelled wonderful, like vanilla.

  He wasn’t thinking when he reached out, moving the lock of hair out of her way, tucking it behind her ear. Then stroking her jawline gently, just a whisper of a touch, down her throat.

  Her breath caught, and her eyes went wide, taking him in. Then, slowly, she tilted her weight forward, bringing her face closer to his, both hesitation and invitation.

  He met her halfway, raising his head so his lips could touch hers, and he heard the tiny exhalation of relief and longing as she pressed harder, molding her body to his.

  He gripped her harder, his hips moving slightly upward, his arms wrapping around her like he couldn’t bear to let her go. Her lips parted, and his tongue moved forward, twining with hers gently, advancing and retreating. It was possibly the hottest kiss of his life.

  Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. She pulled back, looking startled.

  “I... sorry,” she said, breathless. “I got caught up.” His body was hard as a rock when she scrambled off of him, her cheeks flaming with a rosy flush. “I... guess we should find the plans for the Reinia National hospital. So we know where to go, and where the records room is? And if there’s a way we can find out what the security protocols are, that’s probably helpful.”

  He cleared his throat. “Sure. Yeah. Good idea.”

  He was glad one of them was able to keep their eyes on the prize, he told himself. Because this was too important. He had to find his half-sister; that was, after all, why he’d gotten involved with Jane in the first place.

  Not involved. You two are not involved.

  He winced, grimacing at himself. No, he and Jane were just working together, keeping up a ruse so he could get to the truth. Then he’d face his family, and Jane?

  Jane would leave. He’d probably never see her again.

  He frowned, then grabbed his own laptop. He needed to keep that fact in mind... before he ruined what they were doing and stupidly believed in possibilities that were utterly impossible.

  8

  Jane couldn’t believe how quickly Ben was able to pull together his “speech”—also known as the Big Diversion. They’d stopped by the hospital, and he’d said that he wanted to pull together a “quick event” to celebrate the healthcare workers and the vital role they played on the island, as well as hopes for future advances and ways to help more people. If they thought it odd that he wanted to do it in two days, they didn’t say anything. In fact, the hospital administrator seemed more flustered that she was talking to the royal heir than whatever it was he wanted to give a speech about. Jane got the feeling he could’ve said “I want to give a talk about balloon animals” and she’d have been on board.

  So, after a few days of scheming, going through the plans of the hospital, and getting an impromptu all-access pass card despite it being a breach of hospital protocols, they were ready for Operation: Retrieve the Records.

  “I’m going to speak for about half an hour, max,” he murmured to her as the administrator got the crowd warmed up. There were a lot of hospital staff, but there were also people who just wanted to hear Ben talk, and of course, there was the press. “I’ll take questions from the staff if I don’t see you back, but I’m sure that the press is going to have questions and will want to cut the presentation as short as possible. They’ll probably want pictures, which we’ll want to avoid. So if you think you’re going to be late... well, don’t be late.”

  “No pressure,” she muttered.

  “Which reminds me: don’t get caught, either.”

  “You know, helpful advice would be appreciated,” she grumped, even though she made sure her face looked for all the world like a doting, devoted girlfriend. “Not all this stuff I already know.”

  He chuckled, then stroked her cheek, which unsettled her already adrenaline-soaked system. “Good luck,” he said, and to her shock, he pressed a quick kiss on her lips, so fleeting that she barely registered it before he was off, striding toward the podium. She went hot, then cold.

  Stay focused.

  She was still standing in the “wings” of the large room where he was giving his speech. She cleared her throat, then looked at the person next to her, someone in scrubs. “Excuse me,” she murmured. “Where is the restroom?”

  “Down this hallway, two lefts and a right,” the woman said helpfully. “There are signs when you get close, you can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you.” With her alibi set, she surreptitiously left the room, pulling out her phone, which held the hospital plan and her own notes on how to get to the records room from the large conference room where the talk was being held. She passed some nurses and doctors, but no one paid much attention to her. She could hear her own racing heartbeat in her ears, and kept her head down, given all the security cameras. Like that was going to keep her from being identified… but it couldn’t hurt, right?

  The records room was in the “administrative” section of the building, which was largely empty since the occupants were listening to Ben’s speech. Unlike medical professionals, they could afford to leave their desks behind for an hour, which worked perfectly for what she had in mind. She used the master pass card to get into the administrative office, then took the stairs down to the records room.

  “Why are records rooms always like this?” she huffed, turning on the lights. The place smelled like dust, reminding her of the records room at the London Current. That triggered a brief but vibrant memory of the first time she kissed Ben, even if it had been a fraud, just something to convince nosy Emily that there was nothing suspicious going on.

  Of course, kissing him a few nights ago had nothing to do with throwing someone off the scent. Actually, if she thought about it, she wasn’t sure why they’d kissed that night. The tickle fight, the proximity...

  Oh, she might as well admit it. She was wildly attracted to him, more than she could remember being to anyone in a long time. Considering what they were doing, though, that was very, very ill-advised.

  She forced herself to focus, going to the large file cabinets, looking at the years. Thank God the thing was organized chronologically. She went to the older records, thirty-five years back, and then went through the months that were relevant. Babies, especially first babies, could go early or late. She pulled all the files for a full month on either side of the presumed due date.

  You have thirty minutes, she admonished herself. Her fingers danced through the folders, looking at the mother’s name. She pulled aside those that were listed as any variation on Kate—Katherine, Katrina, Kathleen—even in the middle name. She finally winnowed it down to about ten files.

  Fifteen minutes. She swallowed hard, quickly photocopying the relevant files. These were her leads. Then, as carefully as she could, she put the files back where she’d found them, even going so far as to wipe any potential fingerprints off of the cabinets and the copier. She felt like an idiot, but she was afraid that somehow, she’d be caught and... well, prosecuted. Because this was legally a bit sketchy.

  You’re the next Nellie Bly, the next Veronica Guerin, the next Christiane Amanpour, she reminded herself. If you want to be an investigative journalist, then you do things other people won’t. If the king had a child out of wedlock, it was a big, groundbreaking story. It would literally change that child’s life. The truth was worth bending the law a bit, she told herself, as she folded the copied pages and tucked them into her purse.

  She heard voices and held her breath. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then she heard the voices going softer, as whoever was talking walked away.

  She opened the door, looking around. She didn’t see anyone, so she made a break for it, speed-walking out of the administrative building. Another glance at her watch. Thirty minutes. Damn it, she thought.

  She rushed in, slipping to her empty seat, slightly out of breath, feeling a bead of sweat from both her running and her nervousness trickle down her back. The woman who had given her instructions looked at her quizzically.

  “I could get lost in a paper bag, I swear,” Jane said, hoping that the woman believed her. The woman sent her an indulgent smile, then turned her attention back to Ben.

  “In short, I can’t thank the healthcare professionals of Reinia enough, for your unrelenting hard work, for your sacrifices, and for the amazing work that you do. You are valued, and I don’t want you to ever think that we, as a kingdom, don’t appreciate you. We will do everything we can to make sure you have the supplies and equipment you need, to keep our system both cutting edge and personal, state of the art and compassionate. I look forward to your input on our future endeavors. Thank you for letting me speak to you today.”

  There was a roaring cheer as he nodded, startling him as he stepped off the dais. She stepped up to him, and he hugged her lightly.

  “Did you get what you needed?” he murmured against her ear, so only she could hear.

  She nodded, then tilted her head up. “About ten records,” she whispered back.

  He smiled. Their faces were very, very close, she noticed. And she was already keyed up from her espionage excursion.

  “Prince Ben! Prince Ben!”

  She jolted as they were swarmed by the press. She should have expected it—he’d warned her. It said a lot that she was so wrapped up in Ben that she’d let her guard drop like this.

  “You’ve been off of the island for almost a month while your father has been ill,” a reporter asked. “What kept you away? Are there any problems in the palace?”

  His eyebrow went up. She wondered if anybody at the palace, staff or the like, might’ve spilled the beans. Of course, from the sound of it, there was no love lost between Ben and his father for years. It might just be a fishing expedition—the journalist pushing buttons, seeing if Ben would bite and accidentally confirm something. She was familiar with the technique, not that she used it herself much.

  “Nothing wrong at the palace,” Ben said breezily, and she was amazed at his cool reserve. “I just felt like traveling, since it had been a while and I was restless.”

  “We see you’ve brought back a companion on your travels,” a woman reporter said cheekily, eyes twinkling. “Care to share about that?”

  “This is a friend,” he said, obviously deciding to avoid her name. These were reporters, and they’d dig. Jane turned, avoiding any eager cameras. If they found out that she was a reporter, too, they’d publish about it, and that would freak out the queen, not to mention blow their cover and possibly ruin any chance they had at finding his half-sister. “And that’s the extent of what I’m going to comment on. Thanks!”

  He put an arm around her, ready to lead her off as cameras flashed around them.

  “So she’s just a friend?” some yelled.