he would hang on her every word. He would touch her, kiss her, caress her—only when she allowed it.
Until she begged for his kisses, pleaded for his touch, yearned only to have him, once again, inside her.
Until she moaned beneath him.
And writhed on top of him.
And crawled all over him.
Whenever he wanted her.
Until he said, Marry me.
And she cried out, Yes! tears of joy streaming from those blue, blue eyes.
It was what he did best.
And he did love a challenge.
Osrik was watching him. The king shook his proud gray head. ‘‘You would be wiser to take her and be done with it. In the end, you’ll have to do it, anyway.’’
Finn said nothing. He’d already made his intention crystal clear.
Medwyn spoke then, from behind Finn. ‘‘Remember, my lord, how this situation came about. Two nights ago, Princess Liv did surrender. She can be seduced, and Prince Finn is the man to do it.’’
Osrik’s expression turned thoughtful. He was nodding, but then he frowned. ‘‘We mustn’t forget that was Midsummer’s Eve. A night when all the rules are broken. Also, there were large quantities of ale involved—is that your plan, then, Finn? To get her drunk and keep her that way?’’
‘‘No, my lord. My plan is to marry her. By her choice. When she makes that choice, she’ll have all her wits about her, else the game would not be fairly played.’’
‘‘Hmm,’’ said the king.
‘‘I believe,’’ said Medwyn, ‘‘that if any man has a chance at this impossible task, it would have to be Finn.’’
Osrik looked right at Finn again. ‘‘You’re absolutely determined to try to win her—on her ground?’’
‘‘Sire. I am.’’
‘‘You will allow me to aid you in one small way?’’
‘‘No force,’’ Finn insisted.
The king smiled and crooked a finger. ‘‘Approach.’’ Finn strode to his side and bent close. His liege whispered of the aid he offered.
Finn stood back.
The king said, ‘‘I can’t guarantee it. But I shall make the call. Deaf ears sometimes hear again, when blind eyes begin to see there is no other way but to learn to be flexible. And the news of the baby will help. If I succeed, you will have not only an important ally in your quest, you’ll also be positioned properly, in a place where Liv will find it difficult to ignore you. What do you say?’’
Finn nodded, ‘‘Yes, my lord, if you would. Such aid would be greatly appreciated.’’
Brit came breezing into the suite at a little after four that afternoon, a flush on her cheeks and her arms full of packages. She dropped them all by the door when she saw that Liv was still there. ‘‘Okay, what’s happened?’’
Liv didn’t bother with the TV or the radio. If her father was listening in while she told Brit what a rat he was, so be it.
Besides, she’d had several hours to ponder Finn Danelaw’s cleverness in hinting that the suite might be bugged. It had given him a perfect reason to sit next to her, to whisper in her ear and capture her hand over and over again—to remind her with his closeness of the forbidden night they had shared, to put those incredible powers of seduction to work on her.
And then, she had no doubt at all, not long after he left her rooms her father would have summoned him and commanded him to repeat everything she’d said. So Osrik knew already where she stood and what she intended to do.
Bottom line: this was not espionage. And Liv was through speaking in whispers and sneaking around.
She pulled Brit down onto a long, padded bench near the door. ‘‘I couldn’t leave until I talked to you.’’ Quickly she told everything—of the meeting in her father’s private audience chambers and the one right after it with Finn. When she’d finished, she commanded, ‘‘I want you to come home with me. Get packed and we’re out of here.’’
But Brit wasn’t moving. ‘‘I’m not ready to go yet.’’
‘‘Are you out of your mind? He’s probably got this room bugged and can hear everything we’re saying. If he’s capable of that, think what else he might be willing to—’’
‘‘Liv. Listen. I’m staying. Our father…is who he is. And I don’t care if he has spies on me. He’s not going to learn anything I’m not willing for him to know, especially not now that I’m aware he’s doing it.’’
‘‘But he might do anything. You don’t know what might happen to you here.’’
‘‘He’s not going to hurt me. I’m his daughter, and so are you.’’
‘‘Argh. Don’t remind me.’’
‘‘In his own overbearing way, he loves us both very much.’’
Liv had to admit she didn’t really believe Osrik would hurt Brit. And Brit seemed so firm about staying.
‘‘Oh, Brit…’’
‘‘I’ll be fine.’’
‘‘Are you certain?’’
‘‘I am.’’
Liv gave up and called for a car, half expecting to be told one wasn’t available and that the royal jet would not be at her disposal, after all.
She was gearing up for another confrontation with her father when an attendant appeared to carry her bags down.
Liv hugged her sister good and hard. ‘‘You be careful. I will kill you if you get yourself hurt.’’
‘‘I promise. I’m going to be fine. Have a safe trip.’’
The drive to the small airport was uneventful. And the royal jet—a Gulfstream capable of flying straight through to California without a stop—was waiting, ready to go as soon as Her Highness could board and the flight plans could be cleared.
Her driver opened her door for her and ushered her from the car, detouring next to the trunk, where he hauled out her bags and turned them over to the porter who would load them in the luggage compartment.
The air was clear and the wind was up. Liv could smell the ocean on it. Overhead, a few gulls dipped and soared. She smoothed her blowing hair off her face and ran for the steps that led up to the passenger door.
The pretty attendant—the same one who’d taken care of Liv and Brit on the flight over—greeted her at the top. ‘‘Welcome, Your Highness. So lovely to
