Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,14

get lost out here. There are worse creatures to run across out here than myself,” he said with a laugh.

“Ugh.”

“What was that?”

“I had a bug in my throat.”

“Of course you did.”

“What was your name again?” she asked, feeling truculent and impatient to be away from his presence.

“Sander. That's S a n d--”

“I think I know how to spell it.”

“Sander Fisk, in case you need my last name when you turn me in to the proper authorities.”

Chey was grateful for the shadows that hid the stain on her cheeks. That had been precisely why she'd wanted to know his name. “That's funny. I thought you were the proper authorities.”

“I'm the head of security. That doesn't mean I'm exempt from reprimand. Watch the low branch.” He ducked under a heavy bough.

Chey did the same. “And how long have you worked for the Royal family?”

“All my life. I was raised here. My mother was a chef up until her death a few years back.”

No wonder he didn't seem worried over his job. Even if she mentioned his actions to Allar or Urmas, it was unlikely Sander would get so much as a dressing down. It was his job to protect the Royal family no matter what. She'd been a trespasser for all he knew.

Still. The entire ordeal irritated her.

“So quiet all of a sudden,” he said.

“I'm thinking.”

“It takes that much effort?” His voice was rife with laughter.

Chey glared at the back of his head. Or what she could see of it in the gloom. He was impossible. Refusing to be baited, she said nothing as they re-entered the main trail and turned toward the castle. She presumed, anyway. It was hidden behind the forest they rode through. Picking pieces of leaves and twigs from her clothing, she flicked them onto the ground. Then she gave the hem of the sweater a neat tug.

At the head of the path, where the meadow broke open away from the trees, Sander brought his horse to a halt. Chey drew alongside, breathing a sigh of relief to see the enormous castle in the near distance. Lights illuminated the surrounding wall and spilled out windows from many rooms and towers. It was beautiful even at night.

“I'm sure you can find your way from here,” he said, apparently not going any further.

“Of course I can. The stables are just over there.” She kneed her mare into a walk, anxious to put distance between them.

“You're welcome,” he said to her departing back, for gratitude she hadn't given him in leading her back to open ground. “Maybe next time you'll actually remember to bring your camera.”

Chapter Three

“Infuriating bastard.” Chey stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, unable to sleep despite the jet lag dragging at her bones. The unexpected meeting in the woods was still on her mind. She'd made her way back to the stables, and then the castle, with little trouble. After finding the kitchen and a late dinner, she'd retreated to her room to begin sorting through the photos she'd taken on her first day in Latvala.

Now the hour was somewhere beyond midnight and the encounter kept flashing behind her eyelids, replete with soundbites from their conversation. It even eclipsed her meeting with Mattias.

Sitting up, she pushed the covers back and swung her legs to the ground. For bed, she'd worn a velveteen track suit the color of butter. It was soft against her skin and modest should she decide to wander the halls when everyone was was asleep.

Which was what she wanted to do.

Grabbing her camera off the desk, she checked the batteries and, still barefoot, exited her bedroom. The castle at night proved to be just as intimidating as it was during the day. There was something ancient and mysterious about the feel in the air, as if the castle had absorbed all the joys and horrors of its occupants over the centuries.

She wished she could capture that on film. Somehow portray the structure's longevity and the sensation of secrecy.

Drawn toward the stained glass window at the end of the hall, she found several interesting angles to capture the spill of colored light by. From there she headed downstairs, snapping a pale marble bust of who might have been an ancestor. Milky eyes stared sightlessly into the hall, the lush mouth and hard jaw even more defined in half shadow. A big library drew her next, the shelves illuminated from moonbeams falling in through the panes of a tall window. Books with leather spines crammed every