He stared at the vineyard. “If they hadn’t told me you’d died, I never would have stopped looking. I believe that’s why they made up the story. The source was someone I trusted. I had no reason to question the information.”

“So you knew who I was,” she said.

“I knew you were with the American intelligence community. I knew you were there to get information on the thefts. I knew we were both on the same side.”

“Wish I’d had that information,” she murmured. “So what happened next? You returned to your life?” She shook her head. “Are you really the crown prince?”

He smiled. “You have seen my identification. Speaking of which, I will need my passport returned to me.”

“Sure thing.” She glanced at the driveway and saw the front of the large, long limo with flags fluttering. “You’d better not be lying about that being your car. Even as we speak, my brother is running the plates.”

“Then he will be able to confirm the truth of my statement.” His smile deepened. “Would I really lie about being a prince? Something so easy to prove or disprove?”

He had a point. She sipped her coffee and wished she could take a couple of days to absorb all this.

“Why now?” she asked. “Why did you come back?”

“I found out you were still alive. I came right away, Mia. I came for you.”

Not quite as good as Kyle Reese coming across time for Sarah Connor in the first Terminator movie, but when spoken in Rafael’s soft accented voice, it was a close second.

“There was a picture in the newspaper,” he said. “President Jensen’s sixtieth birthday, I believe. You know the president of the United States?”

Mia knew exactly what picture he was talking about. It had been taken at a private party for the president. President Jensen had picked up Mia’s son and tossed the boy in the air. The photo showed him as he caught the boy. They were both laughing, with Mia standing just behind them, clapping at their fun.