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
