Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,8
the floor. Picking it up with the edge of my finger, I arch an eyebrow.
Who did she think she was going to wear that for? Did she know I was coming to the Summer Palace? Is she here to try to seduce me?
I scoff.
You can try, baby girl.
In the soft light of the fire, her hair looks like glowing copper. A smattering of freckles covers her cheeks and forehead, barely visible on her pale skin. Her lips are a dull pink color, tinged with blue, and firelight dances over her skin.
I rummage through her things until I find a wallet. Bingo.
Rowan Reed.
I frown. Reed? That’s the name of the palace manager who just had an accident. Earlier today, she fell on the ice and broke a hip. Had to be airlifted out of here before the storm came in.
Taking another step closer to the hypothermic woman, I lean over her face. Could she be related? Is she here to take Mrs. Reed’s place? I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, heart clenching at the softness of her skin.
Do I see a hint of the old woman in the shape of the nose? Or am I making connections that don’t exist? Whoever she is, she’s gorgeous.
And almost dead. I touch her forehead with the back of my hand, happy to find her skin isn’t quite so cold. But when I reach down further, I feel the snow melting on the neckline of her dress. Her clothes are wet with sweat and moisture, and just as cold as her skin.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, flipping the blanket back. Her dress is soaked through and clinging to her body. Still fucking freezing.
The radio crackles by the door.
“Your Highness? Come in, Your Highness.”
I walk to the desk, seeing one new yellow bar on the device’s battery indicator. I grab the handheld radio and press the button on the side.
“Yeah?”
“You need assistance at the security lodge, sir?” I recognize Doctor Williams’ pinched, nasally voice.
“Hypothermic woman,” I respond. “Found her outside the gates. Her clothes feel wet to the touch and she’s not warming up.”
“I’m gathering my things. We should be there in ten minutes.”
Damn these huge palace grounds and the leagues that separate the security outbuildings from the main castle. It’s great for privacy—not so good in an emergency. I glance at the woman, noticing her limp hand hanging off the edge of the sofa. She hasn’t as much as stirred since we got here.
“I’m not sure we have ten minutes,” I answer. “Her clothes are wet.”
“Undress her, Your Highness,” Doctor Williams says. “Take all the wet clothes off and cover her with blankets. Don’t submerge her in warm water or heat her up too fast, but we need to bring her body temperature up.”
“Got it. Over.” I leave the radio on charge and move to the sofa. Tearing the blankets off, I stare for a moment. She lets out a soft moan, her smooth brow furrowing ever so slightly. Moving slowly, I remove her sweater then tug the zipper on the side of her dress.
“Easy,” I say, as if I were speaking to a nervous animal. I pause, hesitating. Her eyes are still closed. Body limp. It feels wrong to undress her like this, to take this scrap of fabric off her body and see what’s hiding underneath.
I shake my head. This is necessary. Her life is on the line.
Gingerly, I lift the hem of her dress, averting my eyes as I slowly, gently pull the garment up. When I get to her stomach, my eyes drift over her skin. There’s a dark freckle near her belly button, and I have the urge to run my tongue over it.
I squeeze my eyes shut. What the hell is wrong with me?
With a shallow breath, I pull one arm free, then the other. Lifting her torso off the sofa, I tug the dress over her head and toss it aside. It lands on the floor with a wet thunk.
Rowan’s body falls against mine and damn, she’s cold. Not warming up at all.
My eyes drift down over her skin-colored bra, not wanting to touch her too much. I put my hand on her thigh, feeling a line where dry meets wet on her thighs. Her jacket must have covered the dry part.
“Rowan” I say softly, touching her shoulder. “Can you hear me?”
I pause. Nothing.
Covering her torso with a blanket, I squeeze my eyes shut. I should really take her bra off. It’s soaked too,