Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,11

sex, what else would he have sought the photographer out for? Chey used deductive reasoning to come to her conclusion. It wasn't all that difficult to understand he wanted something from her. Princes probably didn't hobnob with the hired help. When he didn't immediately reply, Chey glanced aside.

He wore a devilish grin. “It's like you know my very mind. I'm impressed. I would like to request you snap some shots of Viia. By herself, if you can manage it, and when she's not aware you're doing so. Natural, candid pictures is what I'm after.”

So that's what this was all about. Chey checked a wry expression before it could take hold of her features. “Of course. It's why I'm here. Sooner than later I'll become familiar with the routine, which will give me a greater chance to catch her in unaware moments. Consider it done.”

“Excellent.” He stopped long enough at the juncture in the hallway to lay a warm hand on the back of her shoulder. “I'll check with you in a few days to see if I need to help set something up should you not be able to find her alone.”

Chey paused when he did, half turning to face him. The weight of his hand was light, yet she felt the heat from his palm through her shirt with ease.

“That sounds fine. Have a good rest of the day.” Chey decided she must be imagining the sparks between them. Except when she met his eyes, she found him watching her like he might devour her on the spot. They spent fifteen seconds searching each other's gazes before he pivoted and stalked away along the other corridor, heading god knew where.

Chey watched him go, the feel of his hand lingering long after he was gone.

It was high time to put some distance between herself and the castle. She headed for the stairs, trotting down to the lower level with the intent on finding the stables.

Perhaps a ride would clear her head.

. . .

A hundred and fifty photographs later, distracted by the beauty and serenity of the stables and horses, Chey finally decided to mount up and ride. She left her camera safely with the stable master, assured it would come to no harm. Swinging up over the back of a buckskin mare, she took hold of the reins and guided the equine toward a section of forest that the stable master suggested. He spoke of riding trails, a sparkling creek, stunning vistas and a small lake nestled in the greenery.

Leaving the stables at a trot, Chey allowed herself to enjoy an old hobby that had fallen by the wayside back in Seattle. She had ridden often before her parents passed, taking to winding trails through stunning scenery that never failed to calm her mind.

Here, too, was the promise of spectacular terrain. She found the trail easy enough, sinking from the first kiss of dusk into the dappled shadow of enormous trees. The branches and leaves tangled overhead, whispering and creaking in a gentle breeze. Slowing the mare to a brisk walk, Chey let her pick her way along the trail. One hand rested comfortably on her thigh.

She found the meandering creek and eventually, the lake. Already she mourned the loss of her camera and promised herself she would return the following day. Maybe in the morning to catch the sunrise and in the evening to take pictures as burnt orange rays slanted across the sparkling surface of the water. Astride, facing the lake, Chey breathed in the scent of bark, earth and damp foliage.

It really was a gorgeous spot. She loved how the trees crowded close to the lake on the far end, and how boulders the size of small cars took over half way around, lending rugged beauty to the scene. Out in the middle of the lake, several fish flopped and splashed.

“What do you think, girl, should we come back tomorrow?” Chey talked to the mare, rubbing a hand along the sleek neck under the mane. The horse nickered and bobbed her head, tail swishing against her flanks.

Just as Chey decided they better head back, before the sun slipped so low she lost enough light to see by, the mare twitched to attention, ears pricked forward. It was a marked change from the lazy stance of a moment before.

“What is it? A squirrel? Maybe a raccoon?”

A snap and crack of twigs jerked Chey's attention to the left, where a cluster of trees made the shadows a little darker