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Kayden stepped into the enormous room — as she moved from behind the large bookcase that concealed the entrance to a secret passage. Methodically she looked around for the Prince or any of his staff. She moved quietly to the doorway between the Prince's bedroom and his office.
A towering stack of files sat in the middle of his desk, with a scattering of papers among the thick folders, but there was no sign of anyone.
After checking the entryway and the sitting room, she felt confident there was no one else in the suite.
Wow! And I thought my suite was huge . . .
Taking note of the layout and entrances, she slowly moved back to the Prince's bedroom. Taking in the grand room was more intimidating than she'd expected . . . the rooms were not what she had thought she'd find.
The intricately-carved furniture was clearly hand-made. While the fabric hanging at his windows appeared to be silk and the floor was inlaid with gold — like she had observed on much of the palace floors — there was an almost-shocking absence of riches in an area she would have expected it most. More and more about this man makes absolutely no sense.
As she made her way back to the bookcase, she turned and saw that she was at the foot of the Prince's bed. Seriously . . . who needs a bed that large?
The image of him slipping between the sheets filled her thoughts and she felt heat crawling up her cheeks at the thought of the Prince — in his bed.
Where did that come from?
The memory of his hand holding hers; his arm holding her tightly against him while they danced, sent tingles dancing over her skin, and the heat in her cheeks burst into full flame. Oh, why did I do this today?
Her decision to come here made no sense . . . even to her. The only reason she could come up with was a personal desire to see the Prince's room before she left.
After her lack of welcome, and the chilly stare he had given her at the ball, she was certain the Prince would be sending her home at any moment. Something within her had wanted to see where he spent much of his time . . . while she still had the opportunity.
Oh, what am I supposed to do with these ridiculous feelings? I have a mission — and this isn't part of it.
None of this made any sense to her. She was not here to be attracted to the Prince . . .
She was here to kill him.
What am I supposed to do now? If I can't complete my mission — if I fail — what will I do? There's no place on earth I can hide.
Throwing caution to the winds, she walked over to his enormous bed and ran a hand over the thick covering. She was surprised to find that, although it was soft, it felt more like flannel than silk or satin — which was what she'd expected. The room had an unexpected personal feel to it. And the lack of luxuries made her wonder if the Prince had chosen everything himself — or left it to others.
She ran a hand down a glossy wood pillar at the corner. It was yet another surprise to see whimsy in the design of his furniture. Every piece was intricately carved — masculine, but at the same time whimsical. It was almost as if he was trying to surround himself with a fantasy . . . or a dream.
Perhaps his life has not been as . . . carefree . . . as I was led to believe. The thought did not sit well.
How could she justify her job with this new information? How was she supposed to eliminate the man with so many question marks hanging over the entire situation? Not that I could get close enough to do that anyway . . .
Now that was a bitter pill to swallow — much more than she would have liked. It was one thing to have an assignment that proved challenging. It was quite another to be rebuffed before she even had a chance to really begin.
The sound of a door closing had her rushing back to the bookcase — and the hidden passage. No sooner had the panel closed behind her, than she could hear footsteps on the other side. Her feet flew along the dark passage as she made her way back to the library quickly and silently.
. . .
Dvarius walked into his bedroom and immediately dropped onto his bed.
I do not understand why I let myself get so worked up over her absence. Clearly she only came back because she missed Lady Catarine.
He ground his teeth together as he lay there, thinking about the young woman who had somehow managed to tie him up into neat, little knots since returning to the palace.
And though it wasn't possible, he was certain he could smell the tantalizing scent that floated around her constantly.
I can't find her in the palace, but somehow her scent has found its way in here . . . taunting me. The tightening of his stomach muscles sent a wave of frustration through him and a deep growl slipped between his lips at the thought of Kayden. Even now she is most likely flitting about the palace, thinking of new ways to torture me.
He was ready to admit he'd overreacted yesterday when she'd arrived, but he could not find her anywhere in the palace.
How am I to apologize? would a note suffice? Bah; too cowardly!
And Lady Catarine was no help whatsoever.
She had chattered away during their morning walk in the gardens about how thrilled she was to have her friend back. You would think the two of them were ripped violently apart for years.
With a grunt, Dvarius rolled off the bed and walked to his closet to pull out his exercise clothes. A good workout was precisely what he needed.
There was no better way he could think of to sweat out his frustrations.
Perhaps I can find a way to sweat that red-haired vixen out of my system as well . . .