Royal Seducer / Bossman Billionaire: Royal Seducer

She rested her hand on his forearm, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”

“There is one treatment that he’s considering. It’s still experimental. He would be hooked to a portable bypass machine. The machine would take over all function, giving his heart a chance to heal.”

She’d never heard of such a procedure. “That sounds promising.”

“But it carries risks.”

“What kind of risks?”

“The surgery itself is risky because his heart is so weak, and after the pump is in he would be prone to blood clots and strokes.”

“How long would he be on the pump?”

He shrugged. “Six months. A year. The doctors don’t know. They can’t even say if the treatment will be effective. It depends on the patient, and the degree of damage.”

“Your poor mother,” Melissa said. “This must be awful for her.”

“It’s not something we talk about outside the family,” he said. “I shouldn’t have even said anything to you.”

But the fact that he had made her feel even closer to him. “I won’t say a word to anyone. I promise.”

He laid his hand over hers. “Thank you, Melissa. For listening.”

On impulse, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. His were soft and warm. His hand slipped behind her neck, drawing her in closer. His tongue teased the seam of her lips and they parted. The kiss was deep and searching and loaded with emotion.

Deep down she was a hopeless romantic, which had earned her a good share of bumps and bruises in her life. Mostly to her heart, but more than a few to her pride as well. She had learned to be tough. But Chris seemed to be pushing all the right buttons, knocking down all of her carefully constructed defenses. Whether he meant to or not.

She wanted him. The way she had never wanted anyone in her life.

“This is going to sound a little crazy,” she said. “But despite the fact that it’s barely been a day, I feel as though I know you, Chris.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” His eyes searched her face. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was looking for. If he saw something the others hadn’t. Something special.

She reached up and touched his cheek, felt the hint of evening stubble under her fingertips. “What do you think it means?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I’d like to find out.”

Chris sat beside Melissa during dinner, listening to her chat with his family. If they knew what he’d done, they would be furious with him. He and his siblings had made a pact, a promise to their parents and each other to keep the king’s condition a closely guarded secret. Great pains had been taken with his doctors to keep his medical records restricted.

He wasn’t one to confide in family or friends, but finally admitting the truth to someone outside the family seemed to take a bit of the pressure off. And as promised, she didn’t say a thing about the king’s health or the e-mail situation, nor did she give even a hint that she knew anything was amiss. He could only hope that she would keep it from her family as well, as it could jeopardize a potential alliance.

If she felt wary of the consequences, she hadn’t let it show. Perhaps she wasn’t familiar enough with the way the monarchy worked to recognize the potential complications the king’s death could generate. Or maybe she just didn’t care. It was possible that she believed the potential benefits would outweigh the disadvantages. And after all, when his father died, or was no longer physically capable of performing his duties, Chris would be crowned king, and if they were married, Melissa would be queen. That had to hold a certain appeal.

Whatever her motivation, she seemed willing to give this partnership consideration. He just needed a bit more time to make sure this was right before he made his move and formally asked for her hand. He needed to be sure that they were sexually compatible. If he was going to be forced to marry, then damn it, he was going to marry someone who could please him in the bedroom.

After dinner, the king retired to his quarters and Melissa and the queen went for a walk in the garden. Chris gestured his siblings into the study for an impromptu meeting regarding the latest developments with the e-mails. They fixed themselves drinks at the bar then took seats by the ceiling-high windows across the room. The last threads of evening sun shone in warm, golden-orange shafts across the oriental rug.

“Aaron showed you Datt’s report?” he asked his sisters, and they both nodded. “Well, something else has happened, something involving our guest.”

They listened grimly as he told them about the e-mail Melissa had received, and how the sender mentioned the maze.

Aaron and Anne wore identical frowns. Louisa looked downright scared. “Was someone watching you?” she asked.

“It could just be coincidence they chose the maze,” Chris told her, but she didn’t look reassured, and he didn’t blame her. “I’d like to have security stake it out tonight, just in case. I forwarded the e-mail to Datt.”

“She didn’t find that at all suspicious?” Anne asked.

“She figured out that I hadn’t sent it. And of course she was curious as to what was going on.”

“What did you tell her?” Aaron asked.

“That it was a prank, and there was no reason to be concerned.”

But it was clear that his siblings believed there was a damned good reason, and Chris agreed. He planned to talk to Randall Jenkins, the head of security, just as soon as he was finished here. He planned to have them keep a close eye on Melissa, just in case. They certainly couldn’t risk something happening to her while she was in their care.

“Did she believe you?” Anne asked.

“She seemed to. I asked her not to mention it around our parents, or to her family. She promised not to.

” “Can we trust her?”

Chris shrugged. “We don’t really have a choice.” Louisa drew her knees up and hugged them. “I don’t like this. Maybe we should tell Father.”

“No,” Chris said. “Not until we absolutely have to.

” With any luck, Datt would get to the bottom of this and they could solve the problem without the king ever being the wiser.

Chapter Eight

Melissa walked arm in arm with the queen along the slate path through the gardens. She had been concerned, after the horror stories she’d been told about the queen of Morgan Isle, that Queen Maria might have the same cold and dreadful disposition. Instead she was warm and friendly and surprisingly down-to-earth. She was smaller than Melissa by several inches and very petite. Her hair was always perfectly in place, her makeup flawless and her clothes immaculate. If Melissa had to chose one word to describe her, it would probably be classy.

They slowly strolled along, chatting about their two countries, and what it had been like for Melissa growing up in the U.S. Did she miss it, or was she happy to be home on Morgan Isle? Melissa didn’t see any point in sugarcoating the truth.

“It’s been an adjustment,” she admitted. “My family means well, but the last few months, I feel as though I’ve been in a sort of limbo.”

“You feel out of place?”

She nodded. “I supposed I can’t blame them for feeling wary of me.”

“Well, we’ve very much enjoyed having you here as our guest,” the queen told her, sounding as though she genuinely meant it. What reason did she have to lie?

“I really like being here,” Melissa said.

“You feel welcome?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes, very.”

“It seems that you and Chris are getting along rather well.”

That was something of an understatement.

“He’s an excellent host,” she said. And an aboveaverage kisser.

“You know, I’ve never seen Chris look at a woman the way he looks at you.” She smiled, an undeniable hint of mischief in her eyes. “There’s something there, I think.”

Her words warmed Melissa from the inside out and she felt her cheeks flush. It was good to know that she approved.

She flashed Melissa a conspiratorial smile. “I can see that you think so, too.”

“He’s an intriguing man.”

“He’s a lot like his father,” she said. “The strong, silent type. And he does have something of a stubborn streak. All the Alexander men do.”

“I think all men do,” Melissa said.

“Chris is very loyal. His family means everything to him. He’ll be a good husband and father some day. And a strong leader.”

“I don’t doubt that he would be.” If the queen thought she had to sell Chris to Melissa, she couldn’t be farther off the mark. She could already feel herself falling hard and fast.

The queen smiled and patted Melissa’s hand. “I’m so glad you feel that way.”

“How long have you and the king been married?”

“It will be thirty-seven years this Christmas,” she said, but the smile she wore didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was probably thinking of how little time they might have left with each other.

Melissa wished she could talk to her about the king’s condition, tell her how terribly sorry she was, but she’d promised not to say anything. She just hoped that if he chose to try the heart pump, it would be effective.

“Life is fleeting,” the queen told her, “you have to seize the moment. Live life to the fullest.”

Amen to that. “That’s always been my motto.”

“And it’s served you well?”

“So far.”

“Oh, speak of the devil.”

Melissa looked up and saw Chris walking down the path toward them. The pride in his mother’s eyes was genuine and intense. It was clear that she truly adored all of her children.

“The king is requesting your presence,” he told his mother, and though her smile didn’t waver, there was worry in her eyes.

“I’ll go right in.” She took both of Melissa’s hands and gave them a squeeze. “I’m so glad we could talk. Let’s do this again.”

Melissa smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

She watched the queen hurry off, asking Chris, “Is anything wrong?”

“No more so than usual.” He offered his hand and asked, “Can I walk you back to the castle, Your Highness?”

She smiled and took it, threading her fingers through his. His hand felt so big and warm and sturdy.

“What did you and my mother talk about?”

“Lots of things. You, mostly.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what she said.”

“She told me how loyal you are, and what an exceptional leader you’ll be. And that you’ll be a good husband and father.”

He winced. “Not very subtle, is she? I’m sorry if she embarrassed you, or put you on the spot.”

“Actually, I thought it was kind of sweet.”

“I almost forgot to mention, tomorrow I’ve arranged a tour of the village.”

“And maybe afterward we can see the east fields?”

“I doubt there will be time. Another day.” He looked up at the darkening sky and said, “We should get inside.”

“Wouldn’t you like to walk for a while? Maybe let me take another shot at the maze?”

“It’s nearly dark.”

“I think we already determined I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” he said.

She wondered what the rush was. And maybe it was her imagination, but there seemed to be an unusually large number of security officers patrolling the grounds. She wondered if it might have something to do with the rogue e-mail. Maybe there was more to it than he’d led her to believe. An element of danger. Or maybe it was just a precaution.

She didn’t question him as he led her inside the castle. It was barely nine-thirty and already it was quiet and dark.

“Are you ready to retire for the night?” he asked.

“Are you forgetting I took an afternoon nap? I’m wide awake.”

“What would you like to do?”

“Something fun.”

He flashed her a sizzling, suggestive grin. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you play cards?”

She could see from his disappointed expression that he had something altogether different in mind. But he asked, “What sort of cards?”

“I was thinking along the lines of poker. I used to be quite the card shark back in college.”

“Were you really?” he said, looking intrigued. “I’m sure I could scrounge up cards and chips around here somewhere.”

“Great. Although…”

“What?”

“Instead of chips, why don’t we wager something a bit more…interesting?”

One brow rose a fraction higher than the other. It made him look young and mischievous. “Such as…?”

“I don’t know. How about…our clothes?”

A wicked grin curled the corners of his lips. “Strip poker?”

“Have you ever played?”

“I can’t say I have, but that does sound interesting.”

“I have to warn you, I’m pretty good. But I’ll go easy on you,” she said, even though she had no intention of doing any such thing.

“I appreciate that.”

“So, that’s a yes?” she asked, not that she thought he would say no. Since they both knew exactly where it would lead.

He took her hand in his and asked, “Your room or mine?”

Chris found them a deck of cards, and they decided on his room to play. Unlike the full suites at the palace on Morgan Isle, Chris’s room consisted of only a bedroom and full bath, but both were spacious and modern, decorated in a masculine theme of blues and grays, with a splash of red here and there, and dark cherrywood furnishings. The room was dim, lit only by a lamp beside the bed, and smelled of his aftershave. She couldn’t help but think how well it suited his personality.

He shut the door and locked it, which sent a little shiver of excitement up her spine. He gestured to the king-size—or in his case, would that be prince-size?—bed. “Shall we sit?”

They sat across from each other, she by the headboard and he by the foot. His inexperience with the game showed. He kicked off his shoes before he sat. Knowing better, she left hers on, not that she thought he had a snowball’s chance in hell of beating her. Hardly a night passed when she didn’t play poker on her computer. It helped her relax after a long, stressful day.

It would be a nice change to play with a real person. She’d tried to get games going with her half siblings, but they were always too busy with their children or their spouses.

“How about five-card draw?” she asked. “Nothing wild.”

“Sounds simple enough. Although you may need to give me a few hands to brush up on the rules.”

Oh, this was going to be too easy.

She smiled sweetly and said, “Why, of course I will.” She took the cards out of the pack, fished out the jokers, and shuffled. “Oh, one more thing. Rules are, we don’t stop until someone loses.”

“In other words, someone has to be naked.”

She nodded.

He shrugged and said, “Okay.”

Oh, yeah, way too easy.

They played a few practice hands so he could get the hang of it, and of course he lost miserably. “We could practice awhile longer,” she offered, but he shook his head.

“I think I’ve got the gist of it,” he said.

She didn’t want this to go too quickly, so she suggested, “Best two out of three hands takes off one article of clothing. Fair?”

“Fine with me,” he said. He obviously had no idea what he was getting himself into. Or maybe he just didn’t care if he lost. Her philosophy was that if you were going to play, play to win. And she would.

She dealt the first hand, and though Chris still seemed a bit fuzzy on the rules, his defeat wasn’t quite as bad this time. Three sixes to her straight. Unfortunately he lost the next hand, too. A pair of queens to her aces and tens.

“Let’s have it,” she said. “One item of clothing.”

He sighed and peeled off one sock. He had nice-looking feet. Almost…elegant.

They started the second round. She took the first hand with a flush, but he came back strong with three kings to her measly pair of jacks. Despite that, she rounded out the match with a full house, which beat his two pair.

She gestured to his other foot. “Take it off.”

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