by Raye Morgan
“I heard she got hit by a water-polo ball,” the new man said, slipping a blood-pressure cuff up her arm and starting to pump. “A water-polo ball that you threw. I’d call that a knock-down.”
“We’ve already established the guilt in this situation,” Monty responded acerbically. “But the motives were pure.”
He leaned toward her. “Emma, this irritating man is Dr Will Harris. He’ll get to the bottom of this ‘resting’ business.” He nodded toward the doctor. “Will, this is Emma Valentine. She can’t seem to stop sleeping. Maybe you can find out why.”
“Emma Valentine, ay? Pretty name.” Will smiled at her. “Pretty name for a pretty lady.” He released the pressure and began to take her pulse. “What do you do here at the castle, Emma?”
She blinked at him, then closed her eyes and searched her mind. The facts seemed to have slipped away. What was she doing here, anyway?
“She says she’s a chef.” Monty answered for her. “I didn’t know we were hiring chefs. But then, I don’t know much about what’s going on here these days.”
“Yes, I was surprised to see you back so soon,” the doctor said as he pulled the cuff back off again and took out his stethoscope. “Raring to go, I imagine.”
Monty gave a short, humorless laugh. “Hardly that.”
“Something told me you might not be completely enthusiastic with the changes around here. But I assume you will do what’s expected of you. Right?”
The silence that followed seemed ripe with an emotion she couldn’t understand, but it did seem to spur her memory.
“I’ve been hired for a special job,” she said suddenly and in a surprisingly loud voice.
She smiled. What a relief to have that information back where she could retrieve it. She needed to wake up. She had to wake up. It was her first day on this job and she couldn’t afford to blow it. She had to get herself together, enforce some self-discipline. But her eyelids were so heavy. Struggling, she opened her eyes and turned so that she could see them both.
“The coronation celebration dinners,” she added. “I’m here to plan for the big event.”
“Oh. That.”
She noted the two men give each other a meaningful look but she couldn’t imagine why and she went on.
“I came, actually, to meet with the prince. You know, the one who’s going to be crowned?” She thought for a moment, then brightened. “Prince Sebastian. That’s his name. And now they tell me he won’t be here until the weekend.”
“They told me the same thing,” the doctor said with a grin she didn’t think she was awake enough to analyze.
“Never trust anything ‘they’ tell you,” Monty offered cynically. He wasn’t grinning but he caught her eye and gave her a significant look, too. She had no idea why, and she frowned at him.
“They told me Agatha was coming as well,” Will said with studied disinterest. “Any truth to that rumor?”
“Could be,” Monty replied. “I haven’t talked to her.”
She was half sitting now, while Dr Will checked out her breathing, thumping her chest and listening intently. The entire situation felt so odd and the cavernous space with the gentle lapping of the water in the background only made it more so. She was in a castle, sitting beside an indoor swimming pool and being carefully examined by two of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. It was enough to turn a girl’s head.
But she had to keep hers right where it was. She had a job to do. She had to keep reminding herself of that.
“So what’s he like, anyway?” she asked them.
They both stared at her.
“Who?” they said at the same time.
“The prince.”
“Ah.” Will laughed softly as he put away his stethoscope. “The crown prince, now.”
“The prince?” Monty chimed in, eyes shining with what she took as amusement. “He’s a fine fellow. One of the best you’ll ever meet. The toast of the nation.”
Will snorted, but he went on.
“I’m sure songs will be written about him soon,” he said in a tone she thought might be a bit sarcastic, though she wasn’t certain she was reading him right. “Stories told, legends taken down. After all, he comes from a long line of kings, and he fits the part, if you ask me. Tall as an Alpine cedar, honest as a cloistered nun, strong as a…as a…”
“A blue ox?” Will put in helpfully.
Monty gave him a baleful look.
“Strong as a northern wind, sharp as a…”
“Serpent’s tooth,” Will interjected. “And just as yellow.”
He leaned toward her earnestly. “Don’t listen to Monty. Truth be told, the prince is an ugly bloke. His eyes are small and evil and much too close together for comfort. And he’s got bad breath and he’s a bit of a drooler, if you know what I mean.”
“Really?” Emma was pretty sure he wasn’t being serious. Despite the fact that her mind was still full of cotton, she was alert enough to know when her leg was being pulled. “I’d heard he was quite handsome.”
“Who told you that?” Monty asked with interest.
But Will waved it away. “They always say that about royalty. You know the media. Always trying to hype their main product. They give royals attributes they don’t deserve, just to make them more interesting to the public.”
Emma frowned. “I don’t know if that’s true.” Her face cleared. “Oh, you’re teasing. I know he’s very handsome. I don’t think I’ve ever seen pictures myself—I don’t really follow the society pages. But I’ve heard it from others, people who pay attention to these things. I’m sure he’s quite good-looking.”
“Well, don’t you believe it,” the doctor said cheerfully as he packed away his instruments. “I know him personally. Lazy layabout, that’s what he is. Never done a day’s worth of work in his life. Always off on some yacht in the Mediterranean or the Caribbean.”
“Isn’t that pretty much the way they all are, those royals?” Emma asked him, looking for confirmation. “At least, from what I hear.”
Monty scowled but Will nodded wisely. “Over-endowed libido, under-endowed intellect,” he noted. “That’s our boy, the prince. Take my word for it.”
Monty’s head swung around at that and his mouth opened in protest. “Hey!”
“Yes, my dear,” Will droned on. “Centuries of inbreeding.” He made a face. “Leaves them a little bewildered, you know. You’ll catch a glimpse of one now and then wandering mournfully about the castle like a lost sheep.”
“That does it,” Monty said, springing lightly to his feet and lunging for the doctor. “You’re going into the pool.”
CHAPTER TWO
EMMA gasped, feeling dizzy. She was used to verbal rages between people. They happened all the time in her very volatile family. But physical confrontations were different. Were these two very large men actually going to fight?
Monty’s body seemed to be a symphony of muscles all working together taking a form a Greek statue would have envied. His legs looked like steel and his arms bulged in places she hadn’t known she liked to see bulges. And the sense she got of things barely covered by that tiny black swimsuit made her blush and suddenly, to her surprise, she had to catch her breath.
But she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Monty was just so beautiful. The only flaw seemed to be a long ridged scar from just beneath his ribs down toward his hip-bone, as though a knife had…
She shuddered, not wanting to think what might have made it. And at the same moment Monty grimaced and seemed to clutch at the scar area.
Will stopped wrestling immediately. “That still bothering you?” he asked, frowning.
Monty shrugged, straightening slowly. “It grabs now and then. Mostly it’s okay,” he said dismissively. “It doesn’t stop me from doing much.”
Still, it was obvious that the so-called fight was truly over.
“You ought to get the scar tissue massaged periodically,” Will told him. “It’s probably building up calcium dep
osits. A little massage with Vitamin E should help break it down again.”
Monty nodded, rubbing the scar with his hand as though that were relieving pain. “If it hadn’t been for this, you’d be in the pool by now,” he said, threatening his friend mockingly.
Will grinned and turned to Emma.
“It’s touching how protective he is of the prince,” he explained to her as he held off the other man’s by now halfhearted attack. “I’m afraid I take a more realistic view.”
“Your view of everything will be quite damp if you keep it up,” Sebastian warned him. “You got off easy this time.”
Will didn’t look particularly chastened, but he did glance at the pool, then grinned at his friend.
“Okay, you win. No more about the prince. I’ve got doctor stuff to do. Let me talk to the young lady, if you please.”
Monty let him go with some reluctance, glared at him a moment longer, then stood back and made a sweeping bow. “Be my guest.”
Emma sighed with relief as Will stepped around him rather gingerly, then smiled at his patient. Even though their entire battle had had the choreographed look of something they had done many times before, probably beginning in childhood, she was glad it was over.
And she was glad it was Will who was coming to her side. There was something nice and comforting about the doctor. She was pretty sure she was going to like him.
Monty, on the other hand, was beginning to make her distinctly uncomfortable. There was something sharp and edgy about him. He was nice to look at, but in a hard, scary way that disturbed her. His golden eyes seemed to see too much and to scorn much of what he saw. His full, beautifully defined lips seemed to stretch more often in disdain than in smiling. There was a ruthless, wild quality in him, something she’d first noticed when he was wrestling with Will. She suddenly thought of what he reminded her of—an untamed horse, a stallion that was beautiful to watch, but frightening to get too close to.
“Well, Emma, your vital signs seem normal. You’ve got a lump on your scalp. I assume it marks the spot where you hit the ground rather than where the ball hit you. Either way, it’s a rather simple scalp trauma and you’ve sustained a bit of a concussion. You’ll need to be checked on over the next twenty-four hours.”
She nodded. That seemed to fit with her picture of what was going on here.
“I don’t see anything especially serious. However, your lethargic reaction is a bit troubling. Before making a diagnosis, I always like to ask the patient himself what he…or she…thinks has brought something like this on. What do you think might have caused it?”
She shrugged. “Overwork, I guess. Lack of sleep. Stress.”
He frowned. “What are you doing that might be causing all this stress?”
That was an easy one. Ever since she’d been offered this contract, she’d been obsessed with every detail, working as hard as she ever had in her life to make sure she came through and didn’t embarrass herself, her restaurant, or—most of all—her father.
And there was more, of course. It had been a crazy summer so far, with her beloved grandfather William dying in June. Because of strained relations with her own father and a schizophrenic connection with her mother, she’d clung to the older man at times, soaking up his love and responding in kind. His death had been natural, but a sorrowful one for his huge extended family. His sad funeral had been a sort of reunion for the remaining Valentine clan, conjuring up all sorts of emotions that had been papered over for years. With so much going on, sometimes she felt as though she were running at full scream level without the sound.
But she couldn’t tell him all of that. Much easier to keep it simple.
“My job,” she said, nodding confidently. “I’ve been staying up late preparing for this special assignment for weeks now. I work all day as chef at a restaurant in London and study half the night. Then when I finally do go to bed, my heart is still racing like a hamster on his little wheel, running faster and faster. I don’t seem to be able to slow down again.”
“So the more tired you get, the less you sleep.”
“It seems that way.”
“Yet you had no trouble falling asleep on this hard tile floor.”
She crinkled her nose, thinking. “It was…pleasant. Sort of like taking a vacation from real life, lying here with my eyes closed.” She managed a weak smile. “I started to think a little temporary coma might be nice.”
He shook his head. “No comas. You might start liking them too much.”
He was right. She needed to get back into reality. Gathering all her strength, she sat up fully.
“Hey, take it easy,” Will said, reaching out to steady her.
And there it was again, that deep, provocative tingle that made her gasp. The man’s hands were like magic. Black magic. There was something in his touch that tempted her to curl herself into his arms, inviting more, but she stopped herself quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction—or her automatic recoil once she’d realized what was happening.
“I’m fine, really.” She looked up into his face, then away again quickly. “Just…just a little woozy.”
Will nodded, thinking for a moment. “I don’t want to give you anything—no pills, no shots. In my experience, things like that often create more new problems while hardly dealing with the old ones. I leave the drugs to last resort.” He paused. “What I would like is for you to take a nice long nap,” he said at last, looking into her eyes gravely.
“I’d like that too,” she said, feeling a little as though she might cry if she didn’t watch it. Emotions were bubbling inside her and she didn’t have the strength to try to sort them out as yet. “But I can’t. I’ve got to get back to work. I just went off for a walk to find a cooler place than the kitchen for a bit. I’m sure they all wonder what on earth happened to me. Especially the housekeeper.”
“I’ll let them know.” Will started to help her to her feet. “I’m going to take you to your room. Doctor’s orders.”
Monty rose as well. “I’ll come too.”
She started to shake her head, horrified, but Will beat her to it.
“No, you won’t. You can’t wander around the castle in your swimsuit like you do on your yachts. There are sensibilities to be considered. Maids will be fainting in the halls.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
But Will was serious. “Monty, you’re not who you used to be. You have a new position and you’ve got to maintain some decorum.”
Emma wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but she knew she wanted to get away from Monty and his cool gaze as soon as possible. She could tell he was bristling.
“So now you’re ordering me around?” he said coldly to his friend.
Will nodded. “I’m sure you’ll give me this much leeway,” he said softly. “For old times’ sake.”
Monty stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged and turned to Emma. “Where’s your room?” he asked her.
Her eyes widened. “I have no idea. I get lost every time I turn a corner in this place.”
“How are you going to find it again if you don’t know where it is?”
“Someone will tell us,” Will said.
“It’s very high up,” Emma added, trying to be helpful. “A nice room. The sort of place that feels like if they locked me in and I grew my hair long…”
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel?” Monty’s look of irritation stung. “There you go with the fairy tales again.” His gaze raked over her. “All right, go with Will. I’ll check on you later.”
“Monty…” Will began in a warning tone.
“You can keep your opinions to yourself,” Monty ordered, giving his friend a look that registered something close to disgust. “You don’t have to worry. She’s clearly not my type at all.”
Will made a scoffing sound in his throat. “She’s female, isn’t she?” he said softly, plainly not meaning the comment for Emma to hear.
But she’d heard all right, and her mind had c
leared enough to know that she wanted to avoid a room visit from this man at all costs.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” she said quickly, stepping a bit closer to Will. “The doctor will handle it.”
He stared at her and she realized she’d been a little too obvious in her anxiety. No emotion showed in his eyes, but she could feel his hostility.
“As you wish,” he said evenly. “Goodbye, Emma Valentine.”
Reaching out, he took her hand and bent from the waist to brush her fingers with his lips. “Until we meet again.”
He left her breathless but at least he was gone.
“What did he do that for?” she asked Will as they started toward the castle elevator. Her hand was tingling and she rubbed it against her shorts.
“He likes to keep us all on our toes by doing the unexpected,” Will told her cheerfully.
He’d certainly fulfilled that image today, she thought with some irritation.
“You’re the castle physician,” she said to the doctor. “What does Monty do?”
“Monty?” He chuckled. “You might say Monty is a servant to us all.”
She frowned, wishing she could really get rid of all the cobwebs so she could understand better what was going on around her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“All in due time, my dear. All in due time.”
She was lost. Again.
“They should hand out maps at the door of this place,” she muttered in frustration as she hurried down one hall and then up another, hoping to see something familiar—anything at all.
It would also have helped if there had been someone to ask for directions, but the halls she went racing down were empty. Maybe she was lost in a ghost castle.
But she knew better. It had only been a half-hour before that she’d had a visit from Myrna Luk, the castle housekeeper.
“Well, he’s done it again,” she’d said as she breezed into Emma’s room. A pretty woman in her late forties, she seemed harried and overworked but managed to keep a friendly look on her face, which was more than most of the staff had welcomed Emma with.
