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“That’s hardly her fault,” she snapped back. “Besides, what family doesn’t have its share of scandal? And secrets.”
“Just some more than others,” Aaron quipped, receiving a stern look from the his mother.
“Well, I like her,” Louisa bubbled.
Anne shot her an exasperated look. “You like everyone.”
“Not everyone. But I really like Melissa, and I’m an excellent judge of character.”
Actually, Louisa was a rotten judge of character, but Chris hoped in this case she was right.
“We all have to remember to be on our best behavior,” their mother said firmly. “Make her feel welcome.” She took Chris’s hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “I think this might be the one, dear.”
Though at first he had resisted, now Chris was inclined to agree.
He was quite sure already that Melissa would make a suitable wife.
“We need to talk,” Aaron said quietly to Chris as the rest of the family dispersed.
Chris nodded and followed his brother away from the castle, where they could speak in private. “Is there a problem?”
“There might be,” Aaron said, brow wrinkled with concern, which wasn’t at all like him. It took a lot to put a frown on his face.
“Something about Melissa?”
Aaron shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. I had an urgent message from the foreman of the east fields, saying he needed to see me as soon as possible. So I drove down there this morning.”
The east fields, which made up close to a third of the royal family’s vast acreage, was used primarily to grow soy and housed the largest of their research and greenhouse facilities. “What did he want?”
“There’s some sort of disease causing a blight on the crops. A strain he doesn’t recognize.”
Due to the organic nature of their business, disease and insect infestations were at times a concern. “Is it treatable?”
“He’s tried several methods, but so far it appears resistant. He called in a botanist from the university who he believes will be able to help. But at the rate it’s spreading, we could lose half of the crop. Maybe more.”
Which would be unfortunate, but not a devastating loss. Unless it spread. “You say it’s confined to the east fields?”
“So far, yes.”
“And there have been no problems reported from local farmers?”
“None that I’ve heard.”
“Good. Lets try to keep it that way. The last thing we need right now is an epidemic. Or the fear of one.” Which could be just as damaging. The timing couldn’t be worse. “And we shouldn’t burden Father with this. Not until it’s absolutely necessary.”
“I’ll see that the situation is handled discreetly,” Aaron assured him. “Although if it begins to spread we’ll have no choice but to post a countrywide bulletin.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” This alliance with the royal family of Morgan Isle depended on a stable economy and strong leadership. Their father’s health issues were a closely guarded secret known only to the family and the king’s personal physician. And Chris intended to keep it that way. If he was to become king, sooner rather than later as the case might be, he needed a strong base on which to build.
“Try not to worry about it. Concentrate on your princess.” Aaron flashed Chris a sly grin. “Not that it will be much of a hardship. She’s very attractive.”
“And just think, once I’m married off, you’ll be next.”
Aaron snorted out a rueful laugh. “I wouldn’t hold your breath. Only the crown prince is required to marry and have an heir.”
“That won’t stop Mother from setting you up with every eligible female on the island.”
“She knows better.”
Chris laughed and said, “You keep telling yourself that. But mark my words, the instant I’m spoken for, you’ll be next.”
Aaron glared at him. “Don’t you have a princess to seduce?”
He did, and seduce her was exactly what he planned to do.
The interior of the castle was even more magnificent than the exterior.
As the maid led Melissa up to the room she would occupy for the duration of her visit, she took in with sheer wonder the high, ornately scribed ceilings and tall stained-glass windows, the authentic period furniture, magnificent tapestries and rich oriental rugs over gleaming polished wood and inlaid marble floors. On the walls hung amazing works of art, landscapes and portraits and even a few abstracts.
In New Orleans she’d seen many magnificent residences—her own estate had been highlighted in its share of newspaper and magazine articles—and the palace on Morgan Isle was the pinnacle of luxury and style. Yet none could compare to the grandeur of Sparrowfax Castle. Though she had anticipated a dark, dank atmosphere—it was after all built of stone and mortar—it was surprisingly bright and airy, her own room included.
While her things were unpacked, she took some time to change and freshen her makeup, then investigate her chamber. It wasn’t a terribly large room, maybe only a third the size of her suite at the palace. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in luxury. The furnishings were rich and traditional, authentic to the period and meticulously preserved.
The bathroom was enormous and updated with all the modern amenities, including a whirlpool tub and three-headed shower. The stall, she noticed, was big enough for two. And she was sure that as good as Chris looked in his clothes, he probably looked better out of them.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mel.
She unpacked her laptop, booted it up, and typed in her password, scanning for a wireless signal. Her family expected daily updates on her visit and trusted encrypted e-mails over a cellular line that could easily be intercepted. Not that Mel expected they would be doing espionage, but she supposed one could never be too careful.
She established a link and opened her e-mail program, addressing a note to Phillip. She wrote:
Arrived safely. Greeted warmly. Nothing to report yet.
A knock sounded at her door, so she hit Send and snapped her laptop shut. She crossed the room and opened the door.
Chris stood on the other side. He had changed out of his suit into dark slacks and a black silk dress shirt.
He looked delicious. Dark and sexy and a little mysterious.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said.
“Of course not.” She flashed him a warm smile, and noticed the way his eyes roamed slowly over her with no shame or hesitation, taking in the gauzy silk dress she had changed into. The deep, warm blue enhanced the gray of her eyes. She’d also let her hair down and brushed it out until it hung in rich, dark waves down her back.
She looked damned good, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“You look lovely,” he said, heat flickering in the depths of his eyes like emerald flames. “How fortunate I am to have the privilege of spending the next two weeks with such a beautiful woman.”
His words made her feel weak in the knees, and she was tempted to say You’re not so shabby yourself. But she should at least play a little hard to get. Instead she batted her lashes and turned on the Southern charm. “You flatter me, Your Highness.”
He grinned like a sly, hungry wolf anticipating his next meal. And, oh, how she hoped he would sink those pearly whites into her.
“Is the room satisfactory?” he asked.
“Quite,” she said. “What I’ve seen of the castle is breathtaking.”
“Are you ready to see the gardens?”
More than he could imagine. “I’d love to.”
He offered his arm for her to take, and she slid hers through it. Again she felt that exciting little rush of awareness. That tingle of attraction. And she could tell by the heat in his gaze that he felt it, too.
He led her downstairs, gesturing to points of interest along the way. Family heirlooms that dated back hundreds of years, gifted to the royal family from friends and relatives and neighboring kingdoms. Melissa had so little left of her own family. After her mother and the man she’d known as her father had been killed, her aunt and uncle had seen that all of their possessions had been auctioned off and the proceeds put in a trust. But Mel would have preferred their possessions, something to remember them by, more than all the money in the world.
She didn’t even have the albums of photographs and scrapbooks her mother had meticulously kept. They had probably been tossed in the trash, deemed useless. The only reminder Melissa had of her parents was a single 4x6 snapshot of the three of them taken only weeks before their accident.
“It must be wonderful to be so connected to your family,” she said. “To be so close.”
He shrugged. “It all depends on how you look at it, I suppose.”
“Well, it looks pretty good to me.” She had hoped to rediscover that closeness, that sense of continuity with her half siblings, yet something was missing. Though they made an effort to include her, she still felt like an outsider. And maybe she always would.
She was the oldest, and illegitimate or not, technically, she had a rightful claim to the crown. But despite signing documents swearing that she would never challenge Phillip’s position as ruler, she didn’t think they were ready to trust her. Maybe someday.
Then again, maybe not.
Chris led her through an enormous great room and out a rear door onto a slate patio bordered by a meticulously tended perennial garden so alive with color its beauty made her gasp.
“It’s amazing,” she said. On the patio sat a variety of chairs, chaise longues and wrought-iron tables. She could just imagine herself out there in the morning, drinking coffee, or lounging in the afternoon, reading a book. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty tang of ocean air, could hear the waves in the distance, lapping against the rocky bluff.
It felt like paradise.
“Do you spend much time out here?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “It’s mostly used for entertaining. Although you might occasionally find Louisa out here practicing yoga.”
If she lived in the castle, Melissa would be out here every day, weather permitting. Although that was easy to say. She hadn’t spent nearly as much time as she would have liked in her gardens at her New Orleans estate. There always seemed to be more pressing business that needed tending.
“Can we walk to the bluff?” she asked.
“Of course.” He offered his arm and they walked down a twisting sandstone path that wound its way through the gardens. His knowledge of the different varieties of flowers and shrubs impressed her, as did the steady strength of his arm, and his solid presence beside her.
She’d never been what one would consider a fading flower, she could hold her own in almost any given situation, but even she liked to be pampered every now and then.
“Can I ask you a personal question, Melissa?”
She didn’t have to wait for the question to know what was on his mind. She could hear it in his tone, see the curiosity in his eyes.
She’d been getting that same look from many people lately.
“Let me guess. You’re wondering if it was a shock to learn that I was an illegitimate royal?”
He grinned. “Something like that.”
Her illegitimacy wasn’t something Melissa tried to hide, or felt she should be ashamed of. After all, how could she be responsible for the actions of a mother she’d lost twenty-three years ago, and a father she had never even known? Nor was she shy about discussing it. Why attempt to hide something everyone already knew? It would only sit like the proverbial elephant in the room. She was who she was, and people either accepted her or they didn’t. Loved her or hated her.
“I felt as though I’d been caught up in some surreal sequel to The Princess Diaries,” she said.
His eyes crinkled with confusion. “Princess Diaries ?”
“Suffice it to say, I was flabbergasted. I had no idea that I wasn’t my father’s daughter.”
“Did it upset you that your parents never told you the truth?”
“On some level. But honestly, I have little room to complain. If my father knew I wasn’t his, he never let it show. I had an extremely happy childhood. And my real father…well, I honestly think he did me a favor by staying out of my life. Although after my parents died it would have been nice if he’d claimed me. But I understand why he didn’t.”
“Life after your parents passed away wasn’t so happy?”
The directness of his question surprised her a bit. Most people tiptoed around the subject of her parents’ deaths. It seemed almost as though he was testing her. Seeing how tough she was.
“To quote Nietzsche,” she said “‘That which does not kill me makes me stronger.’”
Chris smiled. “I believe he also said, ‘No price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself’.”
And she did own herself. Despite everything that had happened, she was in control of her own life. Her own destiny. And she intended to keep it that way.
The path ended and the gardens opened up to a rocky bluff that seemed to stretch for miles in either direction. Over its edge was nothing but cloudless sky and calm blue ocean, and farther in the distance, the coast of Morgan Isle. Fishing boats dotted the expanse that lay between the two islands, and closer to the Morgan Isle shore she could just make out the luxury craft common to the tourist trade.
She toed closer to the edge and peeked over the side, to the jagged rocks below. It was a long way down. At least three or four stories, with no discernible beach that she could make out in either direction. She looked back at Chris. “Is there a path down?”
He shook his head. “Not for miles. It’s a straight drop down to the water. Tactically speaking, it was the perfect place for my ancestors to build the castle. Invading forces would have been forced to dock their ships miles down the coast.”
She leaned farther over, trying to see the sharp incline of the cliff wall.
“Be careful,” he said, concern in his voice.
“I’m always careful.” At least, almost always.
“Not afraid of heights, I guess.”
She shrugged and backed away from the edge. “Not afraid of anything, really.”
He regarded her curiously. “Everyone is afraid of something.”
She though about it for a moment, then said, “Centipedes.”
He grinned. “Centipedes?”
“All those legs.” She shuddered. “They give me a serious case of the creeps.”
“Well, then, you have nothing to fear here,” he said, offering his arm and leading her back toward the castle. “We don’t see many centipedes.”
There was one other thing she feared. Feared it more than a stampede of creepy centipedes.
She was afraid she might fall for Prince Christian. Then get her heart broken as she had so many times before.
Chapter Three
Chris and Melissa strolled slowly back to the castle, she a soft and comfortable presence beside him. They chatted about the weather and the flowers and the different crops they grew on the island. She had an insatiable curiosity about practically everything, and always looked genuinely interested in his answers and explanations. But when he led her past the shrubbery maze, her eyes all but shimmered with excitement. She stopped him just outside the entrance. “It’s taller than it looks from the air.”
“Three meters, give or take,” Chris said. “It takes an entire crew a full day to manicure.”
“I’m sure it’s worth it.”
“This maze has been standing here, unchanged, for hundreds of years.”
Her eyes filled with mischief. “Could we go inside?”
“You’d like me to lead you through?”
“Oh, no, I’ll figure it out myself.”
Chris looked at his watch. “Unfortunately, there’s no time. We’re to meet with my parents for drinks before supper.”
“How long does it usually take?”
“Drinks or supper?”
She laughed. “No, the maze.”
“If you know your way, not long. Ten minutes, maybe. For the novice, though, it’s easy to get turned around. I’ve seen people wander through there for hours.”
She shot him a cocky smile. “I’ll bet I could figure it out in no time.”
“It’s more confusing than you might think.”
“I have a very good sense of direction. And I like a challenge.”
He didn’t doubt that she did. She certainly had spunk. He liked that about her. In his opinion, it took a strong and independent woman to withstand a marriage of convenience. Melissa seemed to have what it would take. He hoped she felt the same way.
“Just in case, I think it should wait.”
She looked disappointed, but she didn’t push the issue. Duty was duty, and she seemed to embrace the concept. One more trait in her favor.
“Tomorrow, then?” she asked.
“Of course.”
She gazed up at him through a curtain of thick, dark lashes, a wicked smile teasing the corners of her lips. “You promise?”
“I’m a man of my word,” he said.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the saying ‘Chivalry is dead.’”
“Not on Morgan Isle it isn’t.” He gazed down at her, into the smoky depths of her eyes, and swore he could see a shadow of apprehension. Maybe even sorrow. Then it was gone.
Either he’d imagined it, or she wasn’t as tough as she wanted people to believe.
“Now,” he said, “are you ready to have drinks with my parents?”
“I guess so.” She took a long, deep breath, and blew it out. Then asked, “Anything I should know before-hand? It’s important that I make a good impression.”
“Just be yourself and I know they’ll find you as enchanting and interesting as I do.”
He could see from her smile that she appreciated his answer.
“I like you, Your Highness.”
He returned the smile. “I would have to say, that’s a very good thing.”
“Why is that?”
“Because, Princess, I like you, too.”
As Melissa had suspected, “drinks with the king and queen” was code for a thorough grilling by not only Chris’s parents, but his brother and sisters as well. They seemed to want to know all about her and her half siblings, and the country of Morgan Isle. And they weren’t shy about asking. She tried to answer their questions as honestly as possible without giving away too much, or in some cases, too little. She had been with her new family such a short time that in some cases she simply didn’t know the answers.
Dinner was a five-course feast of seafood caught off their own shores, organic vegetables from the royal family’s personal garden and bread baked fresh from wheat grown in their own fields. They followed it up with a dessert that was so mouthwateringly delicious Melissa was tempted to ask for seconds.
Though she had never been one to choose organic or natural products, it really did make a difference. She would go so far as to say it was one of the tastiest, freshest meals she’d ever eaten.
It was nine-thirty by the time dinner was over and she thoroughly expected another round of drinks, and very possibly more questions. Instead, Chris’s parents excused themselves to their quarters. The king did look exhausted, but she supposed that was only natural when she considered that he spent his days running an entire country. And though he didn’t exactly have one foot in the grave, he was no kid, either. In his late sixties would be her guess, but she wasn’t rude enough to ask.
She also didn’t miss the way his children seemed to coddle him. The fleeting and furtive looks of concern they would direct his way when they thought no one was looking. She couldn’t escape the feeling that there was something going on with his royal highness. Something they didn’t want her to know.
Everyone said their good-nights, his brother and sisters included—although she doubted they all actually went to bed this early—and Chris walked her to her room.
“Everyone retires early here,” she said when they stopped outside her door.
He leaned against the doorjamb. “Our primary business is farming. Early to bed, early to rise.”
“In New Orleans, if I was in bed by one it was an early night. It’s a totally different culture.”
“To be honest,” he said, “I’ve always been something of a night owl myself.”
“Would you like to come in for a while?” she asked, gesturing inside her room. “We could have a drink and…talk.”
He looked past her into the bedroom. A single lamp burned beside the bed and the maid had turned down the covers. There was no denying that it looked awfully inviting. “I’d like to, but I shouldn’t.”
“Tired of me already?” she teased.
“Quite the opposite.” He took a step closer, his eyes simmering with desire. “If I allow myself to come into your room tonight, you know as well as I that we’ll be doing much more than just talking. Is that what you want?”
Though a part of her wanted to say yes—the curious, reckless, and let’s face it, lonely part—she knew it wouldn’t be right. She’d met him only a few hours ago. Shouldn’t she at least get to know him a little before she let her hormones call the shots? Before she gave in to the inevitable? Because she knew without a doubt that sometime before she flew home to Morgan Isle, she would sleep with Chris.
But not tonight.
“No, I guess not.” She took a step back from him, from the heady pull of attraction that would instead have her wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer for a long, deep kiss.
He looked disappointed, but not at all surprised. “I thought we would take a tour of the island tomorrow. See the village and the fields we control.”
She smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Shall we have breakfast first? Say, eight o’clock. If that’s not too early.”
She doubted she’d be able to sleep late, if she slept at all. She smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Good night, Melissa. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Chris.”
He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against it, and for an instant she thought he might take her in his arms and kiss her anyway, then he let go of her hand and backed away. He flashed her one last dark, sizzling smile, then disappeared down the hallway.
She closed the door and leaned against it.
Wow.
Her heart pounded and she felt drunk on the sensation of his lips against her skin. If she did sleep, she had no doubt whatsoever that she would dream of him.
She changed into her favorite silk nightgown—which also happened to be her sexiest, since one never knew—and because she wasn’t the least bit sleepy, booted up her laptop to check her e-mail.
There was one from Phillip. It said simply:
Have you spoken with the king and queen?
No How was your trip, or Are you having fun? He didn’t even ask why she’d sent the bodyguards home.
She couldn’t help but feel he was relieved that she was gone. Which could very well be her imagination. Phillip was not what anyone could call warm and fuzzy. He was, she imagined, very much like their father. With the exception of his sleeping habits.
As in, Phillip was faithful to his wife, while their father, it seemed, hadn’t been able to keep it in his pants.
She hit Reply and typed up a quick e-mail, giving Phillip a brief rundown on her visit so far. Leaving out the part about almost shacking up with Prince Christian. Phillip wanted her to become well acquainted with the royal family of Thomas Isle, particularly their future leader, but she didn’t think he meant that well.
She ’d never been one to sleep around, though that was not to say she was a prude in any respect, but maybe there was more of her father in her than she cared to admit.
She sent the e-mail and, with nothing better to do, opened her favorite card game, but after fifteen minutes or so was bored to tears. She tried curling up in bed and reading the book she’d brought along with her, but she couldn’t concentrate.
She called down to the kitchen for a cup of herbal tea, but not even that would quiet her nerves. Back home in New Orleans, a stroll in the garden under the moon and the stars was usually the most effective cure for a sleepless night. She doubted anyone would mind if she took a quick walk. Besides, how would they even know? Unlike her, they were all soundly sleeping.