playing matchmaker. However, until now, he had never actually voiced the words that he wanted Lucia married to Harrison’s son.
Harrison swallowed and somehow managed to answer without revealing how unsettling the thought of Lucia being with Devon was. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Perfect. Report back to me tomorrow on how the first interview went. I want to know everything. Now, call Ellie in here. I’m feeling rather tired, and I believe I’ll go back to Charlotte’s apartment and rest.”
“You are feeling—”
“Fine.” Easton abruptly cut off Harrison’s statement of concern. “I have a few years left in me, and I refuse to believe that whatever this disease I’ve contracted is incurable like the doctors maintain. Now, fetch Ellie for me, and I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Harrison rose and executed another perfect bow before turning and leaving Easton’s office.
Upon seeing Harrison, Ellie rose and immediately went into the office. Harrison stepped into the embassy’s private elevators and pushed the button. He was staying in the staff apartments on the fifth floor, and the light glowed ominously, as if sealing his fate.
He’d known this “investigation” was inherent, and for once, he’d put it off. Easton had had to ask twice. Although the monarch didn’t seem to mind, Harrison had procrastinated. He never hesitated. He always took the initiative, even finishing tasks early. But not this time.
His reasoning was simple. He couldn’t tell Easton everything. He couldn’t tell him the truth. For how could he tell his king, his boss, his friend, that he’d already compromised his position? It had happened over a month ago, the very moment he had first set eyes on Lucia Carradigne at her sister’s wedding reception.
CECE’S WEDDING.
As usual, work had come before pleasure. Thus, Sir Harrison Montcalm had missed all the glitz and glitter of the society event of the season—the wedding of CeCe Carradigne and Shane O’Connell. He hadn’t minded. He loved his job.
Therefore, he had been at the embassy checking to see if there were any rumors from Korosol or within the local Korosolan community about Markus’s activities. Harrison relished this job. Deep in his gut Harrison never had liked the king’s grandson. Harrison’s dislike ran so deep that he suspected Markus was responsible for his parents’ deaths over a year ago, a suspicion brought to him and Easton by some of Byrum and Sarah’s friends who had been on the safari at the same time. It was an awful suspicion to have, but Harrison knew how much Prince Markus wanted the throne. But had the king’s grandson stooped to murder? Harrison was determined to find out.
So duty had come before pleasure and Harrison had arrived at the wedding reception after it was already in full swing, long after the dinner plates of the multiple courses had been whisked away. He’d arrived just in time to watch Devon get rid of the very uninvited Krissy Katwell.
And then he’d seen her.
Whoever she was, she was beautiful.
He’d never been partial to blondes, but her dark blond hair perfected her radiant skin tone. The silken strands hung in loose ringlets around her face.
Her smile was wide and wonderful, and just seeing her direct it at someone else had the power to stop Harrison’s heart.
Her ball gown’s color challenged angels in its brilliance. The striped, form-fitting gown in the Korosolan colors of royal blue and silver only accented her radiance. What little makeup she wore only enhanced her natural beauty.
Even from where he stood on the edge of the dance floor, he could see that her eyes were green. How he could see her eyes from ten feet away was incomprehensible, but somehow Harrison could see, and he just knew.
From afar he basked in her glow, feasting on her beauty like a thirsty man seeing water. For a moment time seemed to stop, and frozen there he knew he’d never felt this way before.
She seemed to sense his scrutiny, for she turned her head and ran her gaze quickly over him. He felt the electric shock from just her look. Then the waltz turned her graceful body away from him.
As the connection broke, Harrison shook himself. Way too young, he told himself simply. Whoever she was, from the way she moved and looked he guessed her to be not more than twenty-six. He had a son older than that.
“Excuse me.”
Harrison started as a soft, feminine voice floated over to him. He turned slightly, and there she was. In heels she stood just about eye to eye with his six-foot figure. Up close, her willowy grace was pure beauty, and he blinked just to see if she was truly real or simply the vision of a lonely man.
She touched his sleeve, her fingertips light as feathers. “Would you care to dance?”
Would he? He shouldn’t. Excuses rose to his lips. “I…”
“Please,” she said softly, her voice a mere silken whisper. “From your uniform I know you’re Korosolan, and I would be so grateful. See that man coming this way?” She gestured a manicured finger toward a man headed in their direction. His bright red hair offset his freckles and contrasted with his ill-fitting tuxedo. “That’s Larry Zimmer, and no matter how many times I say no, he can’t get the picture. Would you perform the duty of helping a lady in distress?”
“I would be honored to,” Harrison said. Under the guise of duty, he took the arm she offered. A frisson of desire shot through him as he guided her to the dance floor.
She linked her hands to his. “Thank you,” she said as another waltz began.
Harrison struggled to make light of the moment as he led her around the dance floor. “So you would rather dance with an old man to escape a young one?”
As if she found his comment funny, her smile widened. “What old man? You mean my grandfather? We danced earlier.”
Harrison returned her smile with one of his own. “I meant…”
“I know what you meant,” she said simply. Her green-eyed gaze held his. “But I figured you needed an excuse. If not, you may never have asked me.”
He wouldn’t have, either. “You’re right,” he admitted.
“I know,” she replied. “So I helped you along.”
Was this woman magic? She’d somehow seen right through him.
“I’m glad you did,” he said. And he was. For holding her felt as if he was holding a slice of heaven.
As the music shifted pace, he drew her a little closer. She smelled like roses, and her skin felt like the softest silk. There, during the moments on the dance floor, Harrison found himself feeling younger, feeling more alive than he’d been in years.
His fingers once grazed the small of her back, and an electric tremor shot through him as her eyes darkened to jade.
“You’re a wonderful dancer,” she said.
Speak again, Harrison thought, for to my ears your words are like the purest music.
“As are you,” he replied
