Michelle Celmer - Virgin Princess, Tycoon’s Temptation / The Secret Child & The Cowboy CEO - Virgin Princess, Tycoon’s Temptation

Garrett should have listened to his instincts and never let Ian in the house. Or maybe this time Ian would finally learn his lesson.

The limo dropped him at the front entrance of the hospital and Garrett stopped at the information desk to get his brother’s room number. Ian’s was on the third floor just past the nursing station, but when Garrett walked through the door, he was totally unprepared for what he saw. He’d expected Ian to have suffered a few bumps and bruises, maybe a laceration or two, but his baby brother looked as though he’d gone a dozen rounds with a prize fighter.

His face was swollen and bruised, his nose broken and both eyes blackened. His right wrist and hand were wrapped in gauze, and he’d suffered small nicks and cuts on both arms. From the broken bottles, Garrett figured. His left leg was in a cast from foot to midthigh and suspended in a sling.

Garrett shook his head and thought, Ian, what have you done to yourself?

Instead of seeing Ian the troublemaker lying there, under the bandages and bruises Garrett could only picture the little boy who used to come to him with skinned knees and splinters, and his anger swiftly fizzled away.

“Garrett Sutherland?” someone asked from behind him.

He turned to find a doctor standing just outside the room. “Yes.”

“Dr. Sacsner,” he said, shaking Garrett’s hand. “I’m your brother’s surgeon.”

“Surgeon?”

“Orthopedics.” He gestured out of the room. “Could we have a word?”

Garrett nodded and followed him into the hallway.

“Your brother is a lucky man,” the doctor began to say.

“He doesn’t look so lucky to me.”

“I know it looks bad, but it could have been much worse. The fact that he suffered no internal injuries is nothing short of a miracle.”

“What about his leg?”

The doctor frowned. “There he wasn’t so lucky. His lower leg was crushed under the dash. The impact shattered the fibula and snapped his tibia in three places. The only thing holding it together are rods and pins.”

“But he’ll recover?”

“With time and physical therapy he should make a full recovery. The first six weeks will be the most difficult. It’s imperative he stay off the leg as much as possible and keep it elevated.”

“So he’ll stay here?”

“For another day or two, then he’ll be released.”

Released? Where was he going to go?

He realized, by the doctor’s expression, that Garrett was expected to take Ian home.

Bloody hell. He didn’t have time for this now. Nor did he feel he owed his brother a thing after all the grief he’d caused. But who else did Ian have? Where else could he stay?

“I know it sounds like a daunting task,” the doctor said. “But if money is no object, you can hire twenty-four-hour care if necessary.” His pager beeped and he checked the display. “I’ll be back to check on him later.”

“Before you go, was it determined if alcohol was involved?”

“That was a concern at first, since he came in smelling like a distillery. We were hesitant to give him anything for the pain, but he swore he wasn’t drinking, and the tox screen came back clean. No drugs or alcohol in his system.”

So he had just been driving too fast and lost control. If that wasn’t Ian’s life story. As a kid he was always pushing the limits and hurting himself. If there was a tree too high or dangerous to climb, Ian wasn’t happy until he reached the highest branch. By the time he was eight, he’d suffered more broken bones and received more stitches than most people did in a lifetime.

Maybe this time he would learn his lesson.

“You didn’t have to come here,” he heard his brother say, his voice rusty from the anesthesia.

Garrett turned and walked to his bed. “Someone has to pay the bill.”

Ian gazed up at him, bleary-eyed and fuzzy. “I guess ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to cut it this time.”

“It might if I thought you meant it.” But Ian wasn’t sorry for all the trouble he’d caused. Only that he’d been caught.

His eyes drifted shut, and Garrett thought that maybe he’d fallen asleep, then he opened them again and said, “I was going to bring it back.”

“The car or the liquor?”

“Both.”

Garrett wished he could believe that.

“I got a few miles from your house and I started to feel guilty.”

That was even more unbelievable. “You don’t do guilt.”

“Apparently I do now. I thought if I got back fast enough you would never know I’d left. Then that damned dog darted out in front of me.” Ian studied him for several seconds. “You don’t believe me.”

“Is there a reason I should?”

He sighed. “Well, whether you believe me or not, I’m tired of living this way. I’m going to change this time. I swear I am.”

Garrett might have believed his brother if he hadn’t heard the same thing so many times before. “Let’s just concentrate on getting you healthy. The doctor says you have to keep off the leg for six weeks. With my hectic schedule, I’ll have to hire a nurse to stay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

And he didn’t expect a penny of it back. “Where else would you go? You think Mum and Dad would let you stay with them?”

His expression said he knew the answer to that question was no. Even if their mother still had a soft spot for Ian, their father would put his foot down.

“I’ll figure something out,” Ian declared.

“You have a friend who will take you in?”

Ian was silent. They both knew that Ian had never made a friend he didn’t eventually betray. Unfortunately, Garrett was all he had. “You’re staying with me.”

“I owe you too much already,” Ian said, and Garrett wished the regret he heard in his brother’s voice was genuine. He wasn’t counting on it though.

“Face it, Ian, we’re stuck with each other. If you really mean what you say about turning over a new leaf—”

“I do. I swear it.”

“Then you can spend the next six weeks proving it to me.”

Louisa woke early Sunday morning, planning her picnic with Garrett before she even got out of bed, until she heard the low rumble of thunder and the thrum of rain against her bedroom window.

Oh, damn!

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she climbed out of bed, rousing Muffin, who gave a grumble of irritation before settling back to sleep. She walked to the window and shoved the curtains aside. Dense gray clouds rolled in from the northwest, and a fierce wind pummeled the trees and whipped rain against the windows.

She sighed. It looked as though the weather front that was supposed to miss the island had changed course sometime during the night. It was only 7:00 a.m., but even if the rain stopped it would still be too wet for a picnic. She’d been so sure it would be a sunny day, she hadn’t bothered with a plan B. Her options were limited considering she couldn’t leave the castle with Garrett without giving Chris a two-day warning. And with the weather so dreary, she doubted that he and Melissa would be doing any sailing today.

So much for her and Garrett having some time to themselves. If they had to stay inside the castle, someone would be constantly looking over their shoulders, watching their every move.

She frowned. Being royalty, especially royalty under house arrest, could be terribly inconvenient.

But she refused to let this small setback dampen her spirits. She was sure if she put her mind to it, she could come up with something for them to do, some indoor activity they would both enjoy. Maybe a tour of the castle or a game of billiards. Or maybe they could just sit and talk.

On her way to the shower, Louisa passed her computer and was half tempted to log on, just to see if she had gotten another e-mail from their stalker. No one had said anything about getting the e-mail yesterday, so she could only assume his latest communication had been sent exclusively to her. She couldn’t help wondering if her relationship with Garrett was the catalyst or if it was just a coincidence that he chose now to pick on her individually.