Taming the Lost Prince. Raye Morgan

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      Just two years apart, they looked enough alike that there was always someone who asked if they were twins. Caroline wore her blond hair short, pixie-style, and had a more sleepy, languid look about her, but otherwise, they were practically replicas and had always been especially close.

      They stood together looking down at where the two little boys, one dark-haired like his father, the other as blond as his mother, lay side by side, sound asleep.

      Caroline’s husband, Rik, was a rising star in the Ambrian royal guard. Right now he was on a mission on the Granvilli side of the island and would be gone for a few days. Luckily, whether Rik was home or not, Caroline loved having Teddy in to play with her own boy.

      “Why don’t you leave him here for the night?” she suggested. “He’s used to sleeping here after the last week when you were in Paris. And it was so hard to put them down tonight, I hate to wake them up and have to start all over again.”

      “Are you sure?” Kayla felt guilty, but she was so tired, it sounded like a good thing to do.

      “Absolutely. You’re only two doors down. I can get you over here fast if I need you. Just come on over first thing in the morning and it will all be good.”

      She stayed for half an hour, sharing her salad with her sister while they talked, watching her baby while he slept.

      And then she was back in the corridor, on her way home and looking down toward the public area, wondering how the ball was going. It was interesting to live this way, with everything happening so close at hand. The castle lifestyle was growing on her. She had been new to it a year before when she’d come to work here, but she was used to it now and it seemed a comfortable way of life. She compared it to living on a huge cruise ship.

      She opened her own door and went in, yawning and kicking off her shoes as she did. A tap on a switch turned on a soft light in the kitchen, which did enough to light the path to her bedroom. She made her way slowly through the apartment, casting off clothes as she went, first her jacket, then her skirt, then her sweater.

      She was thinking about crashing straight onto her bed and closing her eyes and not opening them again until morning. Heavenly peace. No dreams, please. Just wonderful sleep. Her eyes began to droop in anticipation.

      But it was not to be. Two steps short of her destination, just as she was reaching back to unhook her bra, a dark hulk rose from her overstuffed chair in the corner.

      “You know,” the hulk said ruefully, “I’d love to let you go on with this, but I have a feeling you’d hate me in the morning. Just a hunch.”

      She screamed, grabbing her sweater back again and pressing it to her chest. At the same time, Max jumped forward and took her by the shoulders.

      “No, don’t scream,” he said urgently. “I get into so much trouble when women scream.”

      She glared up at him, quickly pushing him away, startled and exasperated all at once. She could smell alcohol on his breath, but that was hardly surprising. Still, she was wary enough to be careful.

      Handsome men, liquor and a moonlit night—the recipe for disaster.

      “Then don’t jump out at them from dark corners, maybe,” she suggested sharply.

      He shrugged as though anxious to make up for scaring her. “Okay, okay. It’s a deal.”

      “Oh, Max.” She glared at him as she tried to keep covered in all the most delicate areas. “Why did you let me get this far before you said anything?”

      His eyebrows rose. “Are you kidding me?”

      “Oh!” She shook her head, but she was calming down. “Look that way,” she insisted, pointing to the wall. “And don’t turn around until I tell you to.”

      He turned obediently and she began to search her drawer for fresh clothes to wear. “What are you doing here?” she demanded at the same time.

      “I wanted to see you. We need some time to talk. Old times and all that.”

      She pulled on a comfortable top.

      “Maybe call first next time,” she suggested grumpily as she dug for something to pull over her legs. “How did you get in here anyway?”

      He chuckled. “Princes pretty much rule around this castle. You tell people you’re a prince and they want to do things for you. The housekeeper couldn’t wait to do me a favor.”

      “That’s a problem.” She sighed. “Okay, you can turn around.”

      He turned and looked at her and he was knocked out. Here he’d just come from a royal ball filled with beautiful women who’d all spent half the day in the beauty shop and were dressed to kill and no one he’d seen there turned him on the way Kayla did wearing a simple sweatshirt and black leggings, with her hair looking like a tornado had just come through.

      “I think I love you,” he said, taking in all her rumpled glory and smiling. “I know I’ve missed you like crazy. It’s so good to see you again.”

      She gazed into his warm blue eyes and melted. She knew he was kidding, that this was his way of joking about emotions instead of dealing with them. But she also knew he was recognizing the ties between them and ready to embrace them, just like it used to be.

      Still, she had to wonder if he remembered that last night as clearly as she did. He had done nothing to indicate it. As far as she was concerned, she hoped he had a touch of amnesia. That night had been a crazy rush of pain and grief and anguish and they hadn’t handled it very well. Best to forget it. If they could.

      She gave herself a moment to really look at him. Pellea had found him a striking uniform to wear to the ball, but he’d taken off the jacket and pulled open the shirt, displaying some gorgeous skin and manly chest hair. Now he looked less than formal. She shook her head at the sight, but despite everything, she enjoyed seeing him. She always did.

      “How did you get away from Pellea?”

      He shrugged. “It wasn’t easy. The woman was watching me like a hawk.”

      She sighed and sank into a chair, gesturing for him to sit on the couch across from her. “She’ll probably be calling me any minute to organize a search party.”

      He moved her discarded jacket and dropped down onto the arm of the couch, then leaned toward her. “You won’t give me up, will you?” he said with a puppy-dog look.

      “Are you kidding?” she told him crossly. “Of course I will. I’m not risking my job so that you can play hooky.”

      He laughed. “Good point.” Then he frowned. “What is your job exactly?”

      “I’m the queen’s personal assistant. I do whatever she needs to get done but doesn’t have time to do herself.”

      It was a good job and she was proud of it. As a single mother without anyone to count on but herself, she was lucky to have it. If she ever lost it, for any reason, she would be in real trouble. There weren’t many good jobs for women in Ambria right now and the queen was a wonderful woman to work for. With a two-year-old СКАЧАТЬ