Raye Morgan - Taming the Lost Prince

“Hey, gorgeous, it’s been almost two years, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, her head swimming. He was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, still hard and handsome, still looking like a playful rascal and a bit of a rogue. His thick rust-colored hair seemed to have a constant breeze blowing through it, his mischievous blue eyes were framed by eyelashes so thick, it was almost criminal, and his mouth looked so deliciously sensual, it ought to be censored. That was Max, just as she remembered him. Lord how she’d missed him!

“So what are you doing here?” he asked, looking completely bemused.

“I came to…to sort of arrest you. In a way.” She made a face. What a farce.

“Arrest me?” At last he focused on the security guards behind her. He frowned. “What did I do now?”

“Oh Max,” she sighed. “Why can’t you be good?”

“Kayla, my sweet,” he said grinning at her, “you know that’s not in my nature.”

Dear Reader,

This is the last book of a series of six about the lost princes of Ambria, a lovely, fog-shrouded, fictitious island nation off the coast of Western Europe. All the princes have been found and brought back home again. Their family, which was shattered and torn apart when their parents were killed by the Granvilli rebellion almost thirty years ago, is reconnected and healed about as well as it can be. Goodness and mercy are back in the land.

Too bad all our problems can’t be solved so easily—but then, we’re not royal, are we?

It’s been something of a royal year, what with the Westminster Abbey wedding of Prince William and beautiful Kate Middleton and all the excitement and celebration that surrounded it. This wonderful couple brought back star power to the British monarchy, a sense of special magic that reminds us why fairy tales so often feature princes and princesses. Larger than life, the focus of dreams. No wonder we love it all.

Prince Max and the woman he loves, who is secretly raising his child, need a bit of that magic to find their happy ending. They have to struggle through misunderstandings, a kidnapping and a heavy shared sadness that almost destroys their love. I hope you enjoy being a witness to the way they manage to capture their dream.

Thank you for reading my story.

Regards!

Raye Morgan

RAYE MORGANhas been a nursery-school teacher, a travel agent, a clerk and a business editor, but her best job ever has been writing romances—and fostering romance in her own family at the same time. Current score: two boys married, two more to go. Raye has published more than seventy romances, and claims to have many more waiting in the wings. She lives in Southern California, with her husband and whichever son happens to be staying at home at the moment.

Raye Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to Nick and Jenn, and most of

all to CB, the new prince in our family.

PRINCE MAX leaned out over the edge of the wrought-iron rail on the balcony. A light rain was falling but he hardly noticed. He was at least the equivalent of five floors up. The castle garden below looked farther away than that. A strange, shivering impulse inside made him wonder what would happen if he jumped.

Too late now. A few weeks ago he could have jumped. He could have ended his worthless life with a flourish. No one would have cared.

But now he had a new life—new responsibilities. People were beginning to expect things of him. What the hell made them think he could possibly deliver?

Actually, this might be a better time to jump. Maybe he would find out he could fly. It looked so simple. All he had to do was spread his wings. He knew what it felt like to fly. He’d been flying ancient crates from past wars for years now. Flying planes was the one thing he knew he was good at. But taking that leap on his own would be different.

No, he wasn’t going to jump. He wasn’t going to mock his fate by trying to fly without a plane. Self-destruction wasn’t really his style. But he did have a peacock feather he’d picked up in the castle gardens. He held it out.

“Fly and be free,” he muttered to it. And then he let it go. It began its long, meandering flight toward the ground and he leaned out even farther, watching it go. It flashed back colors, blue and green and gold. As it neared the ground, it started to spin crazily. He laughed. “Go, baby,” he murmured to it. “Do your thing.”

The feather hit the ground and his laughter faded away. Now it was caught, just like he was. A short flight to nowhere.

“Hey,” a candy-coated feminine voice said to him. “Don’t lean out so far. You’ll fall.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. Was he ready for this? Did he need it?

“You okay, mister?” she said.

He turned slowly, wondering if she realized who he was. Probably not. He was dressed for hiking, not for the ball. But he thought he’d seen her before, passed her in the halls. He recognized the look. And he knew the drill. Either he gave her a simple friendly nod and went on his way, or he smiled at her suggestively and things went on from there. His choice. He could tell she was ready. Eager even. A part of him groaned.

But he couldn’t give in to that. What the hell? He was young. Life was there to be lived. And who knew how much longer he’d be free to follow where his urges led him?

“I’m fine,” he said, and he smiled.

“You’re wet,” she countered flirtatiously.

He shook his head like a sheepdog. Water flew everywhere. She gave a little shriek and then she laughed.

“You’d better come on to my place and get dry,” she offered.

“Your place?” he repeated questioningly.

“Sure. My room is on this floor. I’m only a few doors away. You need to dry off. You wouldn’t want to catch a cold, would you?”

His gaze made an exploratory journey down the length of her, from her spiked, fire-engine-red hair, down to her full lips, lingering on her hourglass figure. His look was insolent. He knew it. And he also knew she was the type of woman who liked that sort of thing.

“Sure, why not?” he said. Anything was better than joining the other royals at this ridiculous ball the queen had cooked up. A few hours with this willing playmate might be just the thing to help him get rid of this feeling of doom that was hanging over him. “You’re like an angel of mercy, aren’t you? Always on the lookout for someone in trouble.”

Her smile had a wicked sparkle to it. “Not really,” she said. “I’m kind of picky about who I help.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And I made the grade?”

Her eyes widened appreciatively. “Oh, yeah. You’ll do.”

He pretended to bow. “I’m honored.”

She giggled and led the way.