Heir Untamed (21 page)

“Yeah, I don't know. Something startled me and I dropped the flashlight. Now it's broke.” She didn't want to admit how good it was to see him.

He snapped on his flashlight but avoided getting the beam in her eyes. Slanting it downward, he closed the distance and took the damaged flashlight from her.

“The lens is cracked. What startled you?” he asked.

She was loathe to admit it. “I thought I felt something touch my arm.”

“Maybe it was just the wind. It's blowing pretty good through those windows.” He tucked the broken flashlight into the back of his pants.

Chey glanced at the cutouts in the stone. Lightning tore through the clouds, briefly flashing more light through the room. She caught sight of Sander's expression when she looked back, expecting to see smug satisfaction there. After all, he'd accurately predicted she would wind up screaming. Instead, he only appeared as concerned as he had when he entered.

“Probably. Either way, I concede. This tower
is
creepy.” She glanced once more at the high beam, then stepped closer to Sander, attempting to nudge him toward the door. Chey was more than ready to depart.

“Most ruins would be creepy this late at night with a storm like that blowing in. Come on. Hold onto my hand.” He caught hers and gripped it lightly with his own.

Relieved at the contact, she stayed close as he led her back down the stairs, through the castle, and out onto the porch. Here the wind was more vicious than when they'd arrived, whipping her ponytail around her neck.

Sander locked the heavy door behind them this time. He let go of her hand and
ushered her out into the rain after she'd covered her camera with the plastic bag.

Ensconced in the Jeep, he turned the engine over and cut a deviant grin her way.

“You don't even need to say I told you so,” she retorted with a laugh when she saw the grin. Her mood was less volatile now that she was safe in the Jeep. If he wanted to taunt her—well. She wouldn't get too grouchy about it.

“I didn't say a thing,” he replied with no small amount of amusement.

“But you were thinking it.” Chey brushed rain out of her hair.

“Mm, no.”

“Then what were you thinking?”

“About my next day off, and your next day off, and whether I can coax you away from the castle again.”

“Speaking of work, I wonder if this weather is supposed to last. I won't be able to take the photographs tomorrow if so.” She looked out the window. Rain battered the landscape. The tops of the trees swished every which way with the force of the wind. “Getting me away from the castle won't be hard.”

“Yeah, actually, this storm will be here a few days if the forecasts hold. We might even see a dusting of snow with the cold front coming in over night. You'll probably have to consult with Urmas and see what changes they have in store for you.” He drove with confidence and skill over the rough asphalt that wound through the countryside.

“It might still work for pictures if we have snow—just not rain. I'll ask.” Chey wondered if Sander meant to invite her into the cabin when they returned. She wanted to spend the night instead of return to the castle. That could become a habit if she wasn't careful. She wasn't sure that her employers would think it a good idea for her to spend too many nights away from the family seat. On the other hand, they couldn't expect her to entirely close herself off from a personal life during her four month stay.

She had her answer after they arrived at the cabin and Sander killed the engine. Turning toward her, he grasped her around the nape and hauled her in for a devastating kiss.

Against her lips, he whispered, “Text me when you have your next day off. All right?”

Chey lingered in the kiss as long as she dared to. Shoving down disappointment, she brushed the pads of her fingers over the raspy layer of whiskers on his jaw and drew back enough to see his eyes. He stared at her with an unusual weight to his gaze. Maybe he felt the same disappointment she did at the need to observe restraint regarding their positions.

“I will. Thanks for tonight. I'd love to go back and visit the castle during the day, when I can take some better pictures. If you'll take me, that is.” She covered her camera; rain still fell beyond the windows of the Jeep.

“It's a date. Drive slow and safe back to the castle, hm?” He plucked a last kiss from her mouth.

Chey breathed him in while he was close. “I'll be fine. Talk to you soon.”

After another lingering look, she opened her door and got out. Thumping the door closed, she ran around the front of the Jeep to the waiting truck.

A minute later she drove out of the clearing, fingers tight on the wheel.

Sander Fisk was definitely under her skin.

Chapter Thirteen

After a restless night's sleep, Chey rose before her alarm and changed from her pajamas into jeans. Pulling a thin ribbed sweater of burgundy over her head, she forewent shoes and started editing the photos she'd taken the evening before. She was especially interested in the ones she'd taken of the main castle with the shadow in the window. No matter how much she zoomed in, or changed filters and lighting, she couldn't get any real detail to show up. There was only a vague outline of what
could
or could not be a body. It might have been anyone from a passing guard to a maid to one of the Royals en route from one part of the castle to another. There wasn't anything to indicate that she'd captured someone blatantly staring down, even if that was the sense Chey had standing in the bailey.

At eight o'clock sharp, Elise and Ingel arrived with breakfast and merry greetings. Both women examined her bruises and declared her well on the mend. The women blew through as they always did, gathering used towels and washcloths, making the bed even though Chey always made it herself, and running a duster over the furniture. One woman cleaned floors while the other did showers and sinks.

Most of the time, when Chey offered to help, she was gently turned down. The women had their routine and though they tried to clean when Chey was out of the room, they were efficient and quick when she was in residence. It always smelled fresh and new in the suite when they were done.

Once they'd departed, Chey got back to work, nibbling eggs, bacon and several pieces of fruit in between. The photos from the old castle, while beautiful and eerie, turned up nothing remotely resembling a ghost. No strange orbs, no flickers of light, no unexplained shadows within a shadow.

“I'm not sure what you were expecting, Chey,” she muttered to herself. Of course there weren't any ghosts. Ghosts didn't exist.

After lunch, Chey grabbed her camera and wandered the halls of the castle. She got several great shots of the snow out a few of the large windows and more pictures of the armor lining one entire hallway. It felt good to stretch her legs and get some exercise. Moving around also took her mind off Sander.

She wondered where he was on the property and if he'd found out any news about the paper clippings. Surely he would have texted her if so.

Returning to her room an hour before dinner, she was surprised to find a box sitting outside her door.

Immediately wary, Chey approached it with caution. Although white, and glossy, with a pretty bow of red on the top, she worried it contained something less than pleasing. Like a head. Or a pair of eyes. Picking it up off the floor, she sniffed near the edge of the lid for any strange scent. All she picked up was a vague hint of something floral.

What had the world come to for her to be checking a gift box for body parts.

Not convinced it wasn't a trap, or a trick, she hesitated before taking it inside. Locking the door behind her, she walked the box to the bed and removed the camera from around her neck. Setting it aside, she pried at the box until the lid came off.

Bracing herself for all manner of horror, she put the lid down and lifted back three layers of black tissue. Folded with care was a stunning garment of blood red silk. Removing it from the box, she held it at the top and let it unfurl.

The cocktail dress sported a square shaped neckline and intricate beading on the bodice. More beading decorated the cuffs of long sleeves and when she held it up against her body, the hem landed a modest half inch above her knee. It was beautifully simple yet elegant.

A quick search of the box turned up a short note that read:
Be ready at six sharp.

It had to be Sander. He was going to surprise her with a trip away from the castle. Maybe to a quaint, small restaurant along the coast between here and Kalev.

Excited at the prospect, and to finally have him see her in something besides jeans and sweaters, she draped the dress over the end of the bed and headed for the shower.

She wanted to look her absolute best for their date.

. . .

Chey checked her reflection in the mirror one last time. The red silk fit her to a tee, outlining her shape with a snug bodice while the skirt flared slightly from her hips. Her eyes boasted smoky charcoal shadow and liner that accentuated the almond shape. The blue of her iris looked more vivid with her lashes coated in mascara and she'd chosen lipstick as red as the dress to paint her lips with. The wispy curls of her hair had been fashioned into a neat updo, held in place with a few cleverly placed pins. As ever, several strands slipped the fastenings and tickled the line of her throat.

Pleased overall with the effect, she daubed on a bit of feminine perfume at her wrists and throat. Transferring her wallet, ID and money into a nude purse that matched her heels, she was just snapping the clasp when a knock sounded at the door.

Grinning, anxious to see Sander in clothing a little more refined than hunting gear, she swung the door open.

“You sure know how to s--” Chey halted when she came face to face with Mattias. Austere in a black suit and red tie that matched her dress, he arched a brow.

“I sure know how to s...” Mattias repeated her and trailed, like he expected her to finish what she'd started to say.

Mattias
had sent the dress? Chey stifled her disappointment and pasted on a smile. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to see the Prince—she'd just been expecting someone else.

“You sure know how to surprise a girl,” she said, completing her thought. What an understatement.

He eyed her like he knew there was more she wasn't saying, then glanced at her throat. “You're not wearing the pendant?”

Chey's fingers flew to the base of her neck. “I was just about to put it on when you knocked. Give me one second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I...sure. Sure.” Chey stepped away from the door, leaving it ajar for Mattias to follow. The necklace was back in its box in her dresser. She fished it out and handed it back, then scooped the escaped strands of her hair out of the way.

Mattias accepted it, undid the clasp, and draped the chain around her neck.

Acutely aware of his presence behind her, of his masculine cologne, she cautioned herself to tamp down her surprise and just go with it. She twitched faintly when his fingertips brushed her nape.

“There. Ready?” he asked, turning to offer his elbow.

Chey released the wisps of hair and glanced at his arm before lifting her gaze to his eyes. “Yes, sure.
Where
are we going, anyway? I wasn't expecting this.”

“It's a surprise. You look ravishing, by the way. Red suits you.” He led her to
her door and
waited patiently while she locked it behind them.

“Thanks. You look very nice yourself,” she said. But then, Mattias always did. Clean shaven, hair combed back, he was the epitome of polished masculinity. She wanted to ask him what he was doing gifting her with diamonds and expensive dresses, but decided that he would give her an answer along the lines of the one he had at lunch the other day. Maybe he was testing her to see how she performed under pressure. To what end, she couldn't guess.

“Thank you. I've noticed your absence around the castle the last couple of days. Everything all right with you?” He escorted her down the hallway and around the corner for the other set of stairs. The ones leading to the third floor.

Places off limits for people like her.

“I was taking pictures of the Latvala wilds.” Which was true. The canoe trip definitely fell into that category.

“And did you like what you saw?” Mattias slowed his pace leading her up the stairs.

“It's beautiful country. I hope to explore more of it during my stay. Closer to the mountains, perhaps.”

“Better hurry then. By the middle of November, the days will be much shorter and the snow deep enough to be a hinderance.” Mattias guided her toward a tall archway on the Royal's personal floor.

“Thanks for the warning. I'll make it a priority in the next couple of weeks.”

“Excellent. If you need escort, or a more rugged vehicle, let me know and I'll arrange something.” He didn't pause before sweeping her into the vast, formal dining hall.

Whatever Chey might have said evaporated when she spied the long, elaborately set table and the people either seated or standing around it. The entire Royal family appeared to be present. The King and Queen, Paavo and Aurora, Natalia and another man and woman Chey hadn't met. It was either the eldest brother, Dare, or the youngest, Gunnar. He was as striking as the other men, though not quite as tall, with blonde hair and green eyes.

Chey didn't have time to decide who was who before her gaze landed smack on Viia.

She was going to kill Mattias. Kill him dead.

Mattias halted their progress halfway to the end of the table. Chey guessed Viia had everything to do with the sudden, cold expression that crossed his face. The two must have had a falling out, or an argument, or some other point of contention between them. Either that, or Mattias was just that disgruntled to see her there.

Silence descended on the entire group.

Wishing a great black hole would open up in the floor and swallow her, Chey glanced from Mattias's murderous look to the others. Paavo and his wife seemed genuinely surprised. The King stared with displeasure clear on his features while the Queen leveled a rather direct look on Chey.