Taming the Lost Prince. Raye Morgan

be right behind you.”

      She chewed on her lower lip. “Can I knock first?” she asked, rather forlorn.

      His stare was steely cold. “I’m afraid not. Her Majesty specifically recommended a surprise attack. She’s afraid he’ll …”

      “Escape by jumping off the balcony. Yes, she told me as much.”

      He glanced at her and frowned. He probably heard the reluctance in her voice and didn’t approve. “Sorry, miss. Instructions from the queen are not to be taken lightly.”

      She took a deep breath. “All right,” she said, straightening her shoulders and heading for the door. “Here I go.”

      She closed her eyes and turned the key in the door, letting it swing open. “Max?” she asked breathlessly, not daring to look. “Are you in there?”

      There was an ominous moment of startled silence and then a deep voice cried, “Kayla! What are you doing here?”

      She forced herself to squint through one slightly opened eye. And there he was, standing before her, completely clothed. Very civilized. Not scary at all. She gasped in relief.

      “Oh, Max,” she said, half laughing. And as he threw his arms around her, she sighed and went limp in his embrace. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

      He hugged her, kissed each cheek, dropped a quick one on her lips and, finally, leaned back to take a look.

      “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.”

      But he was genuinely happy to see her. Taking her in was like a good shot of whiskey. One look and he was transported two years back in time, back to those sidewalk cafés with the red umbrellas along the Mediterranean coast, back to the balmy breezes and sunlight filtering through the palms, back to hearing suggestive songs played by small combos while they’d sat sipping chichis, the local drink that tasted a bit like a Mai Tai and packed a punch like an angry kangaroo. The things they’d done, the things that had happened, the choices made, the regrets—it all still churned inside him. He couldn’t let it go.

      But he also couldn’t regret knowing Kayla. She’d always been a joy. It was fantastic seeing her again.

      “This is Kayla,” he said casually to the redhead who was standing behind him, looking terrified. It appeared she wasn’t used to having castle security barge in through her locked door. “Her husband was my best buddy in the old days when we flew sorties out of Trialta together.”

      “Oh,” the redhead said weakly. Her teeth seemed to be chattering. “Nice to meet you, I’m sure.”

      “Yes,” Kayla responded and tried to smile at the girl.

      Max saw the confusion in her eyes and realized she was still digesting the situation she’d burst in on. It was pretty obvious she thought she’d found him having a “moment” here. That was hardly the case, though the redhead seemed to have thought it might turn into one, too.

      But he hadn’t been able to conjure up any interest. He’d been polite. He’d chatted. He’d accepted one small drink and the redhead had worked hard at creating a seductive scene. But he’d found himself looking out at the stars in the inky sky and listening to the strains of the orchestra from below in the ballroom, and all desire for that sort of satisfaction had melted away.

      But before he found a way to explain all that, the two guards stepped forward and began to slip metal restraints on his wrists.

      He looked down, startled. “What the hell is this?”

      “Sir,” Sgt. Marander said in an unfortunately pompous tone, “consider yourself in the custody of castle security.”

      Max blinked. He couldn’t accept this. Handcuffs? They had to be kidding. He quickly saw two or three ways out of the situation. He could easily handle the guards and …

      But then he looked up and met Kayla’s worried gaze. Her pretty face, her dark, clouded eyes and her long, silky blond hair all created in flesh a picture that had haunted him for two years. Adrenaline still sizzled inside him for a few seconds, then began to drain away.

      He wasn’t going to run from Kayla. Now that he’d found her again, he didn’t want to lose her until they’d had a chance to talk. If he could mine her memories and join them with his, maybe he could slay some of the demons that kept him awake at night. Maybe.

      “Please, Max,” she was saying, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm. “It’s really important to Queen Pellea that you make an appearance at the ball.”

      He smiled down into her anxious gaze. “There is nothing I’m looking forward to more,” he lied smoothly. “Now that you’re here, I’ll have someone to dance with.”

      She jerked back, pulling her hand away. “Oh, no. Not me. You’re supposed to be meeting eligible ladies of rank. That’s not me.”

      He stared at her. “Kayla, what’s the deal? Do you work for the royal family, or what?”

      She nodded. “Yes. I’ve known the queen since we were kids together and my sister’s husband is in the guard. Pellea offered me a job and I jumped at it.” She shrugged, palms up. “I love it here.”

      He frowned, not sure what to make of that. When they’d been in Trialta, he’d assumed she was as much of a vagabond as he was. Now to know she had royal ties …

      But what was he thinking? He was the one who was supposed to be a prince.

      Still, he didn’t like being corralled this way. He could tolerate going to the ball if they let him come on his own terms. This way was just too much. Kayla or no Kayla, he was back to wanting to get the hell out of here. But his hesitation had meant he was locked up.

      “Hey, I’ll come with you willingly,” he noted. “But could we get rid of these handcuffs?”

      She hesitated, looking down at them. Then she gazed up into his eyes.

      He smiled. She sighed.

      “Sure,” she said, wondering if she were risking everything but hardly caring. She looked at the security agents. “Let him go.”

      The sergeant glared at her. “But, Miss …”

      “I’ll take the responsibility,” she said. “If he bolts, I’ll tell the queen it was my fault.”

      The man shrugged and used the key, but he didn’t look happy about it.

      Max smiled and flexed his wrists and looked toward the balcony in the redhead’s room. He could make it in two bounds and be jumping for freedom in seconds. Everything in him was ready to go. Why the hell should he stick around when he knew he was going to hate the results?

      CHAPTER TWO

      KAYLA could read Max’s mind. She knew him too well. She saw the glance as a way out and she moved in smoothly, taking his hand