Doon

Trapped, I watched Vee flit about the room like an over-stimulated hummingbird, flapping her wings just to survive. “Check out this massive hearth. It’s like staring into the mouth of a fire-breathing dragon.” Despite her admirable performance, her tone betrayed her.

Vee coped with life’s crap by smiling through it. Between the dungeon and high-and-mighty Jamie MacCrae, she’d faced more than her daily quota. And we hadn’t even gotten to the ominous and looming trial we were meant to face. She’d fall apart when she was ready. The most I could do was be prepared—which usually involved obscene amounts of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and the Harry Potter saga on DVD. I doubted I’d find either at the local farmer’s market.

She turned to survey the rest of the room, gliding across the plush navy and sage rugs that covered the polished wood floor. As she moved, she paused to manhandle pieces of elegant yet comfortable-looking furniture that captured her interest. Her path made me notice gleaming tables and overstuffed chairs in shades of walnut and gold, artfully arranged into conversation groups for an effect that was both intimate and feng shui.

“This space is so inviting and—you have a library!” Like a magnet, she drifted toward the collection of books lining the back wall. Her fingertips explored the spines with growing enthusiasm.

“Look at this, Ken. Shakespeare. Dickens. Chaucer. And Jane Austen.” That was my girl. Despite the hellish day—and the threat of more to come—she couldn’t resist the siren song of literature. She pulled a red, gilded volume from the shelf and delicately opened it. “This—this is a first edition!”

“They’re all first editions.” Finally, the prince moved toward Vee, his face beaming with pride. “And there’s a hundredfold in the castle library.”

With faintly trembling hands, Vee slipped the priceless book back into its rightful place before turning her questioning countenance toward the prince. “These books have got to be worth thousands of dollars. Why aren’t they in the library with the rest?”

“Because these particular volumes are mine. This is my personal collection. All my favorites.”

That didn’t make sense. I charged across the room to join them. “Why would you keep your favorite books in the guest room?”

“Guest room?” The prince blinked at me for a moment, his brown eyes puzzled. Like the proverbial lightbulb, something clicked into place, and his gut-busting laugh filled the room. “These aren’t guest rooms, lass. These’re my chambers.”

His chambers?

Besides being surprisingly refined for the lair of an ogre, the rooms were occupied. Did he really have the audacity to think we’d bunk with him? Not on his pampered royal life!

“We’re not staying in your rooms.”

“Relax, woman. It’s not as if I’m asking ye to share my bed.” He paused a second too long, peering at me from beneath half-lowered lids. “I’ll be stayin’ across the way.”

Before I could respond, Vee lightly touched my arm, her cue that my mouth needed to stay shut while she diffused the situation. “While we’re honored by your hospitality, your—eh—highness, we couldn’t possibly put you out of your own chambers.”

“Oh, but I insist.” He leveled his gaze at me. “This is the safest place in the castle. I’ll have one of my men stationed just beyond the door, and Fergus and I will be close by.”

A man stationed just outside the door. Like what? A jailer. “Now, look,” I began.

Duncan cut me off. “If ye won’t think of your own safety, think of your friend’s.” As if in agreement, Vee shivered.

I couldn’t argue with that. Gideon was skulking around somewhere—and the last thing I wanted was to wake with him standing over us. But that didn’t mean I had to be all grateful about the accommodations. “Fine,” I huffed. “As long as you have the servants change your sheets—ugh!”

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