Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,39

which were the bronze statues of his ancestors. They stood in a segregated part of the park overlooking the ocean, carved in exquisite detail. Life sized, Chey got a good idea of what each man was like.

She took hundreds of photos consisting of the Queen's Pagoda, the playground, and rows of hedges that spelled out Latvala. Mattias drew a small crowd, and he paused several times to greet the citizens, hold a child, or shake hands.

The people seemed to genuinely love him. There was a reverence in the way they interacted that struck Chey as sincere and respectful. These were the emotions she tried to capture with her camera. Never mind that Mattias handled it all with easy aplomb, causing women both young and old to flutter their lashes and laugh behind their hands. Now and then he met her gaze and held it, before moving on.

Whatever else Chey had thought, she found Mattias charming and affable. It offset the magnetism that drew people like flies, or perhaps it enhanced it.

Either way, Chey reminded herself who he was, and of his status.

On the flight back to the castle, she was again tempted to confide in Mattias about the attack. The words hovered on the end of her tongue, ready to spill forth at a moment's notice.

By the time they landed at the private strip, the words remained unsaid. She couldn't decide why she found it so difficult to tell him the truth. Maybe she thought he would find something at fault with her, as if she'd drawn the unwanted attack upon herself. And maybe, too, she didn't want to tell him that the brood mare he was courting might be behind it.

That was a shock the Royal family wouldn't take well.

Or would they? Was this how the upper echelon of society worked? Thrived? Was subterfuge, threats, attacks and machinations merely another facet of their lives, like breathing?

Forced to at least consider it, Chey stared out the window of the limousine as it ferried them back to the castle. Mattias was companionably silent the entire ride. Now and then, Chey felt his gaze boring into the side of her head.

The gate rolled up to admit them. Cruising along the drive, the limousine came to a halt in front of the broad steps. Chey got out when the driver came around to open her door, and paused when she saw who stood on the top step to receive them.

Viia, with an expression straight from a striking viper, stared down from her lofty height. Attired in an immaculate skirt suit of dark gray and cream, her gaze landed on Chey and locked there.

Chey, caught in the snare of Viia's obvious displeasure, looked away when Mattias collected her elbow and guided her nonchalantly up the stairs. It was like being led right into the lion's den.

“Viia,” Mattias said, as calm and controlled as you please.

“Mattias.” Viia greeted him but never looked away from Chey.

“Miss Sinclair, thank you for your company. I look forward to seeing the photos you took today.” Mattias released Chey's elbow and smiled a rogue's smile.

Chey might have laughed at his blatant show of indifference to Viia's silent fury if it hadn't been for the attack the night before.

“And thank you for the invitation. I'm positive I couldn't have had a better escort. If you'll excuse me?” Chey, anxious to point out that it had been Mattias's idea to take her to town, as it were, dismissed herself from their company.

Viia did not deign to offer a parting goodbye.

With a guard holding the door, she disappeared inside. There were enough hours left in the day to grab a bite of dinner and go scouting the landscape for a place to have the next photo shoot. Later, when evening fell, would be time enough to edit the pictures she'd taken and turn them in to Urmas come morning.

If she planned to blockade her bedroom door while she worked, no one would be the wiser.

. . .

Chey escaped the castle at the crack of dawn the next morning. On horseback, she fled through the mist, dew flying off the hooves of her mare. After an evening locked and barricaded in her room, she was ready to spend time outdoors.

No matter how much make up she'd used, or how much ice she'd applied, the bruising was worse today than yesterday. A blight on her otherwise golden skin, it covered the entire side of her temple, the corner of her eye, and part of her