covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. Did you just finish your meeting?”
“Hours ago. I came by to see you, but you were sound asleep.”
“You could have woken me.”
He shrugged. “I figured you could use the rest.”
“For our date tonight?”
“Date?”
“I answered your e-mail,” she said. “I guess you didn’t get it yet.”
There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes, something that looked almost like apprehension, then it was gone. “You got an e-mail from me?”
He didn’t remember? “Well, I assumed it was from you. Your name was on it.”
“Refresh my memory. What did it say?”
“‘Meet me at the maze. Midnight.’”
He nodded slowly. “Oh, yes, right.”
How could he not remember? It was only this morning. “Is something wrong?”
“This is going to sound a little strange, but would you show me?”
“The e-mail?”
He nodded.
Something was definitely not right here. “Of course.”
She walked over to the desk where her laptop sat. She opened it and booted it up. Chris averted his eyes while she typed in her password, then she opened her e-mail program and scrolled down to find the message from him. “Here it is.”
He leaned over her shoulder to read it, brow furrowed with concern.
“Isn’t that your e-mail address?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, sounding somewhat grim. “It is.”
There was only one explanation for his behavior. “You didn’t send that, did you?”
He hesitated, then said, “It’s complicated.”
That was a non-answer if she’d ever heard one. “Does it have to do with your e-mail security issues?”
“It’s just a prank. I can’t say more than that. Rest assured, there’s no reason to be concerned.”
If that was true, why did he look so concerned?
“Seems weird that whoever sent it would choose the maze as a meeting place,” she said. “It’s almost as though they saw us out there last night.”
She could tell by his disturbed expression that he was thinking the same thing.
“You think it’s someone on the inside?” she asked.
“I really can’t say.”
She wondered if that meant he couldn’t tell her, or he didn’t know.
“Would you mind if I forwarded this to our systems administrator?” he asked.
She stepped away from the computer and gestured him over. “Knock yourself out.”
He hit Forward, typed in the e-mail address, then sent it off. He turned to look at her. “I’m not sure how to word this, so I’m just going to say it. I would appreciate your discretion on this.”
“As in, don’t go running to my family with this?”
“Yes, that, too…” He raked a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.
“What?”
“Please don’t say anything to my parents. Specifically, the king.”
“He doesn’t know?”
He shook his head. “As I said, it’s complicated.”
“Is it his health?”
Her question seemed to surprise him, and she could see she’d hit a nerve. “What do you mean?”
“I’m a fairly intelligent woman, Chris. I’d have to be daft or blind not to notice the way everyone pampers him. The logical explanation would be that he’s in poor health.”
He didn’t seem to know how to answer that.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” she said. “I have a tendency to let my mouth run away from me.”
He seemed to choose his next words very carefully. “It’s just that it’s a…sensitive issue.”
Heaven knew, her family had its share of sensitive issues, too. “I haven’t said anything to my family, and I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I appreciate that.”
“If you ever need someone to talk to, to vent to—”
“It’s congestive heart failure,” Chris said, and his honesty surprised her. It seemed to surprise him, too. Maybe he did just need someone to talk to.
“And the prognosis?” she asked.
“Not good. At the present rate he’s deteriorating, six months. Maybe a year.”
Oh, how terrible. No wonder they wanted to keep it a secret. “What about a transplant?”
“He has a very rare blood type. The chances of finding a match are astronomical.”
She could see that he loved his father very much, and the idea of losing him hurt Chris deeply.
She rested her hand on his forearm, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”
“There is one treatment that he’s considering. It’s still experimental. He would be hooked to a portable bypass machine. The machine would take over all function, giving his heart a chance to heal.”
She’d never heard of such a procedure. “That sounds promising.”
“But it carries risks.”
“What kind of risks?”
“The surgery itself is risky because his heart is so weak, and after the pump is in he would be prone to blood clots and strokes.”
“How long would he be on the pump?”
He shrugged. “Six months. A year. The doctors don’t know. They can’t even say if the treatment will be effective. It depends on the patient, and the degree of damage.”
“Your poor mother,” Melissa said. “This must be awful for her.”
“It’s
