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She slipped on her robe and opened her door, peering out into the hall. In the palace on Morgan Isle, it seemed there was always some sort of activity going on, day or night, whether it was midnight bottle feedings or diaper changes, or the guards’ nightly rounds of the premises. In contrast, the castle was quiet and dark.
Melissa stepped into the hall and quietly made her way down the stairs and through the castle to the patio door. She slipped outside onto the patio, the slate smooth against her bare feet. The air was cool and damp, and the full moon cast a silver, ghostly glow across the land. In the distance she could hear the whoosh of the ocean against the bluff, but otherwise the night was eerily still.
To the east, just beyond the garden, stood the shrubbery maze, looking ominous in the dark. Yet it seemed to beckon her. If it was a challenge during the day, think of the thrill it would be to guess her way through with only the moon to light her way.
She glanced back at the castle, dark and still, and figured, why the heck not? This was supposed to be a vacation. And what was the worst that could happen? She would get lost and wander around in there all night.
She stepped off the patio onto the cool, damp grass and cut across the lawn to the entrance of the maze, her heart thumping a little faster with excitement.
Here goes nothin’.
She stepped forward and the maze swallowed her into its depths like a hungry animal. Inside it was dark and serene, and the towering greenery seemed to muffle all sound beyond its walls.
She waited for her eyes to adjust, until she could see the first turn ahead of her. She stepped forward, deeper inside, the grass cool and slippery under her feet. She turned the first corner to find herself at the end of a long, ominous-looking passageway. Memorizing her steps in case she needed to back her way out later, she walked slowly forward. Halfway through she encountered another passageway that hooked off to the right. Should she maintain her present course, or turn down a path that would take her deeper inside?
The adventurer in her said go deeper.
She turned and followed the passage, but after a few yards she reached a T in the path. Should she go right, or left? Logic dictated that turning right would put her on course for a dead end, so she went left instead.
Behind her she swore she heard a rustling, but when she turned to look, there was nothing there. Probably just a bat, or some small animal. She shrugged and continued on through a few more twists and turns until she reached another T. This time she chose right. She heard another noise, a distinct rustling of branches, but this time it seemed to be coming from in front of her. She strained to see in the dim light, and could swear she saw a dark figure cross the path somewhere in front of her.
Her imagination? A trick of the light?
Curious, she forged ahead, turning the same direction as the figure had, and found herself at a dead end. There wasn’t anyone or anything there.
That was odd. She felt around, looking for some sort of secret passage. There was nothing but solid branches, far too thick and brittle to slip through. Then she heard the rustling again, this time from directly behind her.
She spun around, but there was no one there. Yet she had the distinct feeling she wasn’t alone. “Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”
There was another rustle, then the dark figure passed the T junction just ahead of her. It was too dark to tell who it was, or even if it was a man or a woman.
She darted after the ghostly figure, determined to catch up. But it seemed as though no matter how swiftly she moved, he or she was always rounding the next corner, out of sight before she could get very close. Whoever it was, they obviously knew the maze well. They had lured Melissa deep inside, and she’d been concentrating so hard on following him or her, she hadn’t been memorizing her steps. Now she had no idea how to get out.
She suspected that had been the intention all along. Whoever it was, he was taunting her. Trying to throw her off track, and it had worked. She was hopelessly turned around. And of course, her ghostly figure had chosen that moment to disappear without a trace.
“Swell,” she mumbled to herself. She wandered around for another twenty minutes or so trying to get her bearings, hearing an occasional rustle in the leaves, sometimes in front of her, sometimes behind. If this was some sort of test, she was failing miserably. She strained to hear the ocean, to get a bearing on her direction, but it was useless, and since the idea of wandering around in there all night held little to no appeal, she threw in the towel.
“You win,” she called. “I surrender.”
“I told you it was confusing,” a voice said softly into her ear.
She spun around and crashed into the wall of one very long, solid and—oh, Lord—blissfully bare chest.
Chris’s chest.
Chapter Four
Melissa was so surprised she nearly toppled over backward. Chris grabbed her arms to steady her, the heat of his hands searing her through the thin silk of her robe. He wore a playful, slightly cocky grin that she felt all the way through to the center of her bones.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I decided to go for a walk.”
“In the middle of the night?” His eyes raked over her and the gentle pressure on her arms increased. “In your night clothes?”
“I didn’t expect to run into anyone.” She didn’t bother to point out that in baggy PJ bottoms and no shirt he wasn’t exactly overdressed either. And it was taking all of her concentration not to stare at his smooth, muscular, magnificent chest. “I just assumed everyone had gone to sleep.”
“I’m sure everyone else has.”
“Except you.”
“I was working. I saw you from my bedroom window. When you went into the maze, I worried you might get lost.”
She doubted that. “Actually, I was doing just fine until someone got me all confused and turned around.”
His teeth flashed white in the dark as he smiled. “Most people aren’t brave enough to venture in here at night.”
She shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Giant, man-eating centipedes?” he suggested, then a sly smile curled his lips. “And there’s always me.”
“You?”
“You barely know me. I could be dangerous.”
Only to her heart.
She smiled up at him. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“You never know.” His hands slid up to her shoulders, caressing her through the delicate, slippery silk. “I might try to take advantage of you. There’s no one here to stop me.”
“What if I didn’t want you to stop?” She reached up and pressed her palms against the solid warmth of his chest, felt his heart thumping under warm skin and sinew. “Who knows? I might even take advantage of you.”
Even in the dim light she could see flames of desire flicker in his eyes. His gaze settled on her mouth, making her lips feel swollen and warm. Her heart began to beat double time and her skin felt tingly and alive. She knew instinctively that he would be an accomplished lover. Probably because she’d known so many who weren’t.
You’re moving too fast, her subconscious warned her. She barely knew Chris, yet already she was sure that before she returned to Morgan Isle, she would be getting to know him a lot better. Maybe it was destiny. Or fate.
“Since the minute you stepped off that plane, I’ve thought of little else but kissing you, Melissa,” he said, so close she could feel the whisper of his breath on her cheek. And, oh, how she loved that accent. When he spoke her name it gave her warm shivers.
A proper Southern belle would tease awhile, play hard to get. But she never had been one to play by the rules.
She smiled up at him and said, “So what’s stopping you?”
He caressed the side of her face with one large, warm hand while the other slipped through her hair to delicately cradle the back of her head, as though she were a precious object he worried he might damage.
He lowered his head, leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. So sweet and gentle she went weak in the knees. But she wanted more. Every instinct she possessed was screaming that this was right. She wanted all of him, right that second.
She slid her arms around his neck, pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Being in Chris’s arms, feeling his warm hands on her skin, his lips, soft yet firm, on her own, felt like returning home after a long, arduous journey. For the first time since she was a child she felt as though she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
A rush of relief so intense that she felt like weeping washed over her. She’d never felt so vulnerable in her life, and frankly, it scared her to death.
She flattened her palms against his chest and gently pushed, severing their connection. And he knew why instinctively.
“We’re going too fast,” he said.
She nodded. So much for her brave claims that she might take advantage of him. That she wasn’t afraid of anything. Right now she was terrified.
“Maybe I should walk you back up to your room,” he said.
“You probably should,” she agreed. Another time, another night, maybe she wouldn’t tell him no.
“Give me your hand,” he said.
She held it out, and he laced his fingers through hers. He led her through the maze and had them out in a few short minutes. They walked together in silence through the castle to her bedroom door.
She opened it, and turned to look at him. “I feel as though I should apologize for the way I acted out there. I’m usually not so forward.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to rush things. It’s just that when I see something good, I go after it.”
So did she. Maybe the problem was that Chris was too good. To perfect to be true.
But wouldn’t it be nice if he was everything he seemed to be?
Despite the late night, Chris woke before dawn and for the life of him couldn’t get back to sleep. Too much on his mind. Namely Melissa. Things were progressing more quickly than he’d imagined. Than he could have possibly hoped. And he was eager to take it to the next step.
He also had the crops to think about. He’d been doing Internet research last night when he saw Melissa outside. And now that he was awake, he might as well see what else he could find.
He booted up his computer, opened his browser and returned to the site he’d bookmarked—a study of botanical diseases in organic crops—immersing himself in the text.
A while later Aaron poked his head in. “You’re up early,” he said.
Chris looked at the clock. “It’s half past seven.”
“Which is early for someone who spent half the night traipsing through the gardens,” Aaron said with a cocky grin.
Apparently Aaron hadn’t been asleep either. Chris shot him a look. “I don’t traipse.”
“I take it things are moving right along with your princess.”
“You might say that.” He could see that his brother wanted details, but he wasn’t going to get any. And he didn’t push the issue.
“Oh, and by the way,” Aaron said, “nice e-mail. You have a twisted sense of humor.”
Chris didn’t recall sending his brother anything lately, much less something that could be defined as twisted. “What e-mail?”
“The one you sent last night. I never knew you were such a poet.”
Poet? “Seriously, Aaron, I haven’t sent you an e-mail.”
Aaron unclipped his cell phone from his belt. He punched a few buttons, then handed it to Chris. “This e-mail.”
The address was definitely his. The subject was Funny, and the body of the e-mail read:
Eeny Meeny Miny Mo
String Prince Aaron by the toe
Light the fuse and watch him blow
Eeny Meeny Miny Mo
That was rather twisted, and it wasn’t from him.
“That’s my e-mail address,” Chris said. “But I didn’t send it.”
Aaron frowned, looking perplexed. “Seriously?”
“I would tell you if I did. I’ve never seen it before.”
“Do you think it could have been one of the girls?”
That wasn’t Louisa’s style, but he wouldn’t put it past Anne. “Why don’t you ask?”
The words were barely out of his mouth when Anne appeared at his bedroom door. She was still in her pajamas, her long hair pulled back in a pony tail and her face freshly scrubbed. In her hand she clutched a single sheet of paper. When she saw Aaron standing there, she speared daggers with her eyes.
“You’re a jerk,” she spat.
Aaron looked genuinely stunned. “What the hell did I do?”
She stormed over to him and shoved the paper at his chest.
He read it, his expression grim, then passed it over to Chris.
It was another e-mail with the subject Funny, and a similar, twisted version of a child’s nursery rhyme:
Anne be nimble
Anne be quick
Anne jump over
The candlestick
Anne jumped high
But lost her foot
She burst to flames
And now she’s soot
“I didn’t send this,” Aaron told Anne.
“Nice try,” she snapped back, snatching the paper from Chris and pointing to the header. “It’s your e-mail address, genius.”
It had indeed come from Aaron’s address.
Chris and Aaron exchanged a worried glance. It was disturbing to say the least. It was one thing to receive threatening e-mails, but from their own e-mail addresses?
“I didn’t send that, and Chris didn’t send this.” He showed her the e-mail on his phone.
As she read it, the anger slipped from her face. “What the heck is going on?”
“I’m not sure, but odds are pretty good I got one, too.” Chris opened his e-mail program. Sure enough, there was a message with the same subject, Funny, and it was sent from Louisa. But the contents were anything but humorous.
Star light, star bright
Crown Prince Christian will ignite
I wish I may, I wish I might
Watch him burst in flames tonight
“Somehow I doubt Louisa sent this,” he said, gesturing to his monitor. Aaron and Anne crowded behind his desk to read it.
Aaron raked a hand through his hair. “Is it just me, or is there a theme here?”
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Anne said.
Chris shook his head. “I don’t know. But we need to talk to Louisa and see if she got one, too.”
“Is she up yet?” Aaron asked.
“If not,” Anne said, already heading for the door, “we’ll wake her.”
Chapter Five
Louisa opened her bedroom door, sleepy-eyed and rumpled in pajamas better suited an adolescent than a grown woman, looking surprised to see all of her siblings standing there.
“Have you checked your e-mail this morning?” Anne asked her.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I just woke up. Why?”
“You need to check it,” Chris said.
Louisa frowned. “Right now?”
“Yes,” Anne shot back. “Right now.”
“Fine, you don’t have to get snippy.” She opened the door so they could all pile into her room, which was still decorated in the pale pink and ruffles of her youth. Typical Louisa. Always a girly girl.
She walked over to her desk and booted up her computer. “Is there anything in particular I should be looking for?”
“An e-mail from one of us,” Aaron told her.
“Which one?”
“Probably Anne,” Chris said, figuring that everyone else had already been accounted for.
“You’re not sure?”
Anne’s patience seemed to be wearing thin. “Bloody hell, Louisa. Would you just look for the damned e-mail?”
“My, someone woke up cranky this morning,” Louisa mumbled as she opened the program and scrolled through her e-mails. “Here’s one from Anne.”
“What’s the subject?” Aaron asked.
“Funny.”
Aaron turned to Chris. “That’s it.”
Louisa looked up at them. “Should I read it?”
“Please,” Chris said. “Out loud, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Louisa shrugged and double clicked. “It says: I love you, a bushel and a peck. A bushel and a peck, and a noose around your neck.” She paused and frowned before continuing. “With a noose around your neck, you will drop into a heap. You’ll drop into a heap and forever you will sleep.” She looked over at her twin. “Real nice, Anne.”
“I didn’t send it,” Anne said, casting a worried look to Chris and Aaron. “Hanged or burned alive? These are our choices?”
Louisa looked back and forth between the three of them. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
Anne handed her the printout of the e-mail she’d received, and told her about their brothers’ similar rhymes.
Louisa shuddered and hugged herself. “That’s creepy.”
“Maybe it’s just a prank,” Anne offered.
“But they were sent from our own e-mail addresses,” Aaron reminded her. “Personal addresses that few people outside of the family even know. That would be an awfully elaborate prank.”
“Should we tell Father?” Louisa asked.
Chris shook his head. “No. At least, not yet. He doesn’t need the extra stress.”
“He looked tired at supper last night,” Anne said. “And he hardly ate a thing. He looks as though he’s losing weight.”
Chris had noticed that, too. All the more reason not to say anything. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost eight. “I think we should take this to the head of security. Aaron, can I trust you to talk to him? I have a breakfast date with our guest. I don’t want to give the impression anything is amiss.”
Meaning she couldn’t spend too much time with the king or she might notice his failing health, and he couldn’t take her near the east fields or she might notice the diseased crops, and he certainly couldn’t mention the e-mails.
At this rate, they would run out of things to do and say before the first week was up.
“God forbid she believe things are anything but blissfully perfect,” Anne said with a snicker. “Pretty ironic, don’t you think, considering the mess that she came from?”
Aaron shot her a look, then turned to Chris. “I’ll see that it’s done immediately. And I’m sure the first thing he’ll want is to see the e-mails themselves, so we should all forward them to him.”
“I bet this will turn out to be nothing,” Louisa assured them in her typical optimistic way. “Probably just some harmless computer hacker trying to impress his friends.”
Deep down Chris hoped she was right, but in reality he sensed a disaster coming on.
Melissa stretched out on a lounge chair on the back patio, sipping her latte, the morning sun on her face. She closed her eyes and tipped her face up, breathing in the fresh ocean air, feeling as though she could nod off. She’d slept poorly last night. She had tossed and turned for hours, filled with longing and regret. And confusion. A part of her wished desperately that she’d invited Chris into her room, while another part of her was scared to death to get too close.
Hadn’t she endured enough rejection in her life?
The trick was not letting him get close. After all, how could he hurt her if she didn’t care? The problem with that was, it had only been a day and she already liked him far too much for her own good.
She’d never understood how it happened so easily for some people. Love just seemed to fall in their laps when they weren’t even looking. But despite her desperate longing for a family, the right man constantly seemed to elude her. Around about her thirtieth birthday, she’d begun to worry that she might never find Mr. Right. And now, at thirty-three, she’d nearly given up on the concept of marriage and family and resigned herself to settling for Mr. Right Now.
Maybe the trick was not to look. To just sit back and let it happen naturally. Which was tough when, as every day passed, her biological clock ticked louder.
She heard the door open behind her and turned to see Chris step out onto the patio. He wore a pair of dark slacks and a white silk dress shirt with the sleeves rolled loosely to the elbows that contrasted his deeply tanned forearms.
“I thought I might find you out here,” he said, flashing her one of those heart-stopping, deliciously sexy smiles. The man was far too attractive for his own good. Or hers. She could just imagine the gorgeous children he would have with the lucky woman who eventually nabbed him. Which was inevitable. For a crown prince, marriage and children weren’t a luxury. They were a duty. Like her half brother, Phillip. But he’d been smart enough to marry a woman he loved.
Not that she considered herself unlovable. But the sad truth was, when Chris did choose a wife, she would be considerably younger, with plenty of fertile, child-bearing years ahead of her. A commodity Melissa no longer possessed.
But she wasn’t going to let that fact ruin her vacation. Love was nice, but there was also a lot to be said for smoking-hot, no-strings-attached sex.
She returned his smile and said, “Good morning, Your Highness.”
He lowered himself into a chair across from her, his back to the sun, folding one leg casually atop the other. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very,” she lied. “And you?”
“Quite.” He gazed up at the cloudless blue sky, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand. “Beautiful morning.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “The news this morning said it should be pleasantly warm this afternoon. Around seventy-nine degrees. And no humidity.”
“Some might consider that a little too hot.”
“That’s because they haven’t lived in the deep South of the United States. Seventy-nine is downright balmy.”
He grinned, and for a moment he just looked at her, a spark of amusement in his eyes.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“When you talk about the U.S., your Southern accent thickens.”
“Does it?”
He nodded. “I like it.”
And she liked that he liked it. He certainly hadn’t wasted any time with the flirting this morning. A full day of this and tonight she wouldn’t even think of telling him no.
“Hungry?” he asked with a smoldering grin that said he had more than breakfast on his mind.
“Famished.”
“Breakfast should be ready.” He rose from his seat and held out a hand to help her from the chaise. She took it and his warm fingers curled around her own. He had strong, long-fingered, graceful-looking hands. The thought of what they would feel like on other parts of her body made her shiver.
She hoped she didn’t have to wait too long to find out.
Despite all the natural beauty that Thomas Isle had to offer, Chris had found that most women grew bored with the tour of the family’s vast acreage and greenhouse facilities within the first hour. In fact, with the situation in the east fields he might have welcomed it. He should have known Melissa would be different.
She spent the morning in rapt interest, taking in the sights and sounds and information, asking a million questions, soaking up the answers much the way a parched sponge absorbs moisture. Either she was genuinely interested, or she was one bloody good actress. The morning didn’t lack for sexual teasing and innuendo, either.
The pale-orange sundress she wore barely reached mid-thigh and left all but a few narrow strips of her back exposed. She obviously spent a lot of time either in the sun or the tanning bed. Her skin looked bronzed and smooth and was suspiciously lacking any bathing suit lines, and her legs were a work of art. Long and slim and shapely. About as close to perfection as he’d ever seen.
She wore her long hair down, draped in shiny waves over one shoulder. The effect was exotic and sexy, as was her accent. He liked to test himself, guessing which dialect would emerge next. In serious instances, when she was asking questions about their business or meeting their employees, she sounded more east-coast U.S. When she was excited, she sounded decidedly more Southern. Only when she was teasing, or slaying with that sharp wit, did the deep drawl come through.