Eight
Prologue
Dan O’Hara couldn’t sleep. Jet lag had finally gotten the better of him.
Wide-awake, he paused in his pacing to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling palace windows at the manicured gardens that stretched into the distance. Under the dim light of the crescent moon, trees and bushes were decorated with streamers and lanterns in honor of the upcoming festivities. A three-tiered water fountain, in which tinkling cascades of water tumbled from the mouths of unicorns, occupied the center of the lawn. In the distance he caught sight of a well-tended maze. Nestled in its center was the silhouette of a white gazebo.
Dan blinked. If he didn’t know better he would have thought that before him there was a fairy-tale setting in a fairy-tale country. He’d never even heard of Baronovia before his friend and fellow JAG lawyer, Commander Wade Stevens, had fallen in love with Duchess Mary Louise—better known to him as May Baron. In two days he was to be the best man at their wedding.
He’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, and was starting to unbutton his shirt when drifting clouds passed over the moon. He was about to turn away when he caught a glimpse of a slight, shadowy feminine figure slip out of the palace. To his bemusement, she was wearing a filmy white robe and white slippers. Her long chestnut hair flowed freely down her back almost to her waist. Enchanted, he moved closer to the window and watched as she stopped to gaze up at the moon. Moments later she raised her arms over her head to the moon, twirled around, then lowered her arms to her chest. It looked as if she was trying to draw the moon down to her. He found himself smiling in sympathy at the gesture.
Whoever the woman was, she was beautiful, ethereal and intriguing. After a long plane flight and with probably a sleepless, empty night ahead, she seemed a damn good reason to stay awake.
It took him only a few seconds to make up his mind to join her.
Chapter One
The romantic atmosphere created by her cousin’s wedding this weekend stirred Victoria Esterhazy’s senses. At twenty-three, and with, as custom demanded, her own arranged marriage imminent, she yearned to experience a night of real love before it was too late. Certain she would be alone in these early-morning hours, she gave in to an impulse to dance away her romantic yearning under a new moon in the palace garden.
She bit back a gasp of dismay when a male figure materialized out of the night and strode toward her. Hugging her sheer robe about her body, she froze, ready to run.
“Are you real, or are you just a figment of my imagination?” he whispered as he came to her side.
Victoria shook her head. He might look like the romantic figure she’d conjured up in her head, but he was a stranger. What would happen if she were to be found here in the gardens in the middle of the night with him?
When she looked as if she was about to run, Dan began to feel foolish. His mystery lady had come out of the palace; she could be a member of the royal family. He was out of line, and he knew it, but somehow he didn’t care, even if the last thing he needed was to offend a member of the bride’s family. Whoever she was, she was entitled to her privacy. After all, he was no more than the best man at the wedding.
Dan knew he should go back to the palace and try to sleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave…not just yet. There was something magical about her that drew him to her. Something that made him want to linger by her side.
She finally whispered, “Who are you?”
“A figure from your imagination—a phantom,” he answered softly. There was no point in giving her his name, he thought. He had the strong feeling that they were living a fairy tale, and might never meet again after tonight. When she still lingered, he hesitantly gathered a few strands of silken hair that fell over her shoulders and let it fall through his fingers. “You have beautiful hair,” he murmured, when she gazed wide-eyed at him. His gaze drifted lower to her lips. “Tell me, moon sprite, who are you?”
Victoria glanced back at the dark windows of the palace looming behind her and shook her head. She might yearn to experience the kind of love her cousin May had found during her state visit to the United States, but she couldn’t afford to give away her true identity. Not when it might embarrass her family. Aware of his sensuous gaze sweeping her, she drew the low neckline of her sheer robe more closely together and turned to flee back into the palace.
Dan reached to stay her. “Don’t go,” he murmured as he gave in to an impulse to brush the soft skin on her cheek. To confirm that she was real, he told himself, but he knew better. She was real, and in her sheer nightclothes looked to be the most desirable and enchanting woman he’d ever met.
He smiled his pleasure when she remained frozen in place. Her skin was as soft and velvety as a fragile rose petal, her scent sweet. “Since you might turn out to be someone out of a fairy tale,” he added with a wry smile, “I suppose I could call you a fairy princess or my mystery lady.”
The silence drew them together. Crickets chirping in the background and the water splashing down the tiered water fountain were the only sounds to break the stillness of the night. He was right, Dan thought as he gazed down at her. Under the dim light of the cloud-covered moon that shone over them, she did look like a figure out of a romantic fairy tale. To make matters even more intriguing, if not downright sensuous, the faint scent of gardenias clung to her.
Driven by a deep and unexpected emotion, Victoria felt herself responding to the yearning in her phantom’s gaze. Her skin tingled, her heart beat faster and a glow spread throughout her middle. Soon to be married to an unknown man of her father’s choice, she was all too aware no mere mortal man could have affected her so.
“If I’m your princess,” she murmured shyly, “then you must be my phantom prince.”
Her phantom was a tall, masculine man. His blond hair was tousled and his white shirt was partially unbuttoned as if he’d started to undress. After a closer look at his chiseled features, she found herself aching to explore his tanned skin just as he had touched hers moments before. She wanted to wind her fingers through the light, curly hair she’d glimpsed on his chest. To feel his arms around her and, heaven help her for her runaway thoughts, to taste his lips on hers.
Drawn to her phantom as if to a magnet, Victoria gazed into his warm blue eyes and the questioning smile that curved his lips. A thought came to her like a whisper out of the night; this man could be her destiny, sent to her by the gods she
