Kathie DeNosky - Royal Seducer / Bossman Billionaire

He grinned like a sly, hungry wolf anticipating his next meal. And, oh, how she hoped he would sink those pearly whites into her.

“Is the room satisfactory?” he asked.

“Quite,” she said. “What I’ve seen of the castle is breathtaking.”

“Are you ready to see the gardens?”

More than he could imagine. “I’d love to.”

He offered his arm for her to take, and she slid hers through it. Again she felt that exciting little rush of awareness. That tingle of attraction. And she could tell by the heat in his gaze that he felt it, too.

He led her downstairs, gesturing to points of interest along the way. Family heirlooms that dated back hundreds of years, gifted to the royal family from friends and relatives and neighboring kingdoms. Melissa had so little left of her own family. After her mother and the man she’d known as her father had been killed, her aunt and uncle had seen that all of their possessions had been auctioned off and the proceeds put in a trust. But Mel would have preferred their possessions, something to remember them by, more than all the money in the world.

She didn’t even have the albums of photographs and scrapbooks her mother had meticulously kept. They had probably been tossed in the trash, deemed useless. The only reminder Melissa had of her parents was a single 4x6 snapshot of the three of them taken only weeks before their accident.

“It must be wonderful to be so connected to your family,” she said. “To be so close.”

He shrugged. “It all depends on how you look at it, I suppose.”

“Well, it looks pretty good to me.” She had hoped to rediscover that closeness, that sense of continuity with her half siblings, yet something was missing. Though they made an effort to include her, she still felt like an outsider. And maybe she always would.

She was the oldest, and illegitimate or not, technically, she had a rightful claim to the crown. But despite signing documents swearing that she would never challenge Phillip’s position as ruler, she didn’t think they were ready to trust her. Maybe someday.

Then again, maybe not.

Chris led her through an enormous great room and out a rear door onto a slate patio bordered by a meticulously tended perennial garden so alive with color its beauty made her gasp.

“It’s amazing,” she said. On the patio sat a variety of chairs, chaise longues and wrought-iron tables. She could just imagine herself out there in the morning, drinking coffee, or lounging in the afternoon, reading a book. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty tang of ocean air, could hear the waves in the distance, lapping against the rocky bluff.

It felt like paradise.

“Do you spend much time out here?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “It’s mostly used for entertaining. Although you might occasionally find Louisa out here practicing yoga.”

If she lived in the castle, Melissa would be out here every day, weather permitting. Although that was easy to say. She hadn’t spent nearly as much time as she would have liked in her gardens at her New Orleans estate. There always seemed to be more pressing business that needed tending.

“Can we walk to the bluff?” she asked.

“Of course.” He offered his arm and they walked down a twisting sandstone path that wound its way through the gardens. His knowledge of the different varieties of flowers and shrubs impressed her, as did the steady strength of his arm, and his solid presence beside her.

She’d never been what one would consider a fading flower, she could hold her own in almost any given situation, but even she liked to be pampered every now and then.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Melissa?”

She didn’t have to wait for the question to know what was on his mind. She could hear it in his tone, see the curiosity in his eyes.

She’d been getting that same look from many people lately.

“Let me guess. You’re wondering if it was a shock to learn that I was an illegitimate royal?”

He grinned. “Something like that.”

Her illegitimacy wasn’t something Melissa tried to hide, or felt she should be ashamed of. After all, how could she be responsible for the actions of a mother she’d lost twenty-three years ago, and a father she had never even known? Nor was she shy about discussing it. Why attempt to hide something everyone already knew? It would only sit like the proverbial elephant in the room. She was who she was, and people either accepted her or they didn’t. Loved her or hated her.

“I felt as though I’d been caught up in some surreal sequel to The Princess Diaries, ” she said.

His eyes crinkled with confusion. “Princess Diaries ?”

“Suffice it to say, I was flabbergasted. I had no idea that I wasn’t my father’s daughter.”

“Did it upset you that your parents never told you the truth?”

“On some level. But honestly, I have little room to complain. If my father knew I wasn’t his, he never let it show. I had an extremely happy childhood. And my real father…well, I honestly think he did me a favor by staying out of my life. Although after my parents died it would have been nice if he’d claimed me. But I understand why he didn’t.”

“Life after your parents passed away wasn’t so happy?”

The directness of his question surprised her a bit. Most people tiptoed around the subject of her parents’ deaths. It seemed almost as though he was testing her. Seeing how tough she was.

“To quote Nietzsche,” she said “‘That which does not kill me makes me stronger.’”

Chris smiled. “I believe he also said, ‘No price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself’.”

And she did own herself. Despite everything that had happened, she was in control of her own life. Her own destiny. And she intended to keep it that way.

The path ended and the gardens opened up to a rocky bluff that seemed to stretch for miles in either direction. Over its edge was nothing but cloudless sky and calm blue ocean, and farther in the distance, the coast of Morgan Isle. Fishing boats dotted the expanse that lay between the two islands, and closer to the Morgan Isle shore she could just make out the luxury craft common to the tourist trade.

She toed closer to the edge and peeked over the side, to the jagged rocks below. It was a long way down. At least three or four stories, with no discernible beach that she could make out in either direction. She looked back at Chris. “Is there a path down?”

He shook his head. “Not for miles. It’s a straight drop down to the water. Tactically speaking, it was the perfect place for my ancestors to build the castle. Invading forces would have been forced to dock their ships miles down the coast.”

She leaned farther over, trying to see the sharp incline of the cliff wall.

“Be careful,” he said, concern in his voice.

“I’m always careful.” At least, almost always.

“Not afraid of heights, I guess.”

She shrugged and backed away from the edge. “Not afraid of anything, really.”

He regarded her curiously. “Everyone is afraid of something. ”

She though about it for a moment, then said, “Centipedes.”

He grinned. “Centipedes?”

“All those legs.” She shuddered. “They give me a serious case of the creeps.”

“Well, then, you have nothing to fear here,” he said, offering his arm and leading her back toward the castle. “We don’t see many centipedes.”

There was one other thing she feared. Feared it more than a stampede of creepy centipedes.

She was afraid she might fall for Prince Christian. Then get her heart broken as she had so many times before.