Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,62
the Ahtissari roof on a regular basis. Chey's absence this morning for breakfast would have been a dead giveaway.
Editing the rash of photos she'd taken on the canoe trip, Chey spent her time curled up on the bed in her room, sitting lotus style, fingers quick on the keys. Often she found her attention drifting to Sander, especially when she pulled up the photos of him inside the canoe. The smile he wore, devilish and handsome, tugged at her heartstrings. He was a fine specimen of a man, suited to the outdoors around him. These photos she would be keeping for herself. Urmas only cared about the ones she'd taken specifically for the Royal family.
At four o'clock, Urmas's assistant showed up for the flash drive. Chey delivered it with a quiet smile, relieved she wouldn't have to face Urmas just yet. A short few minutes later, before she got too involved in other activities, someone knocked at the door. It must be the assistant, back with a question. Chey, fearless now that there was so much foot traffic in the castle, swung the door open.
Elise, the pretty maid with the dark eyes and free swinging ponytail, peered at her over a tall stack of fluffy, folded towels. “Pardon, Miss Sinclair. I have your new towels. The dryer was broken this morning, so I could not exchange them on the first trip.”
“Oh, hello, Elise. Come in, come in.” Chey stepped back and allowed the maid to carry the towels into the bathroom. “I'm done with work for now, you're no bother.”
“Thank you. How is your face? The bruises look a little better. I brought you another tube of the cover up.” Elise's voice echoed from the bathroom.
“It's not as dark. That stuff you brought me really worked well.” The cover up Elise delivered had almost obliterated the black and blue mark around her eye and temple.
Elise strode out of the bathroom and withdrew another small tube from the pocket of her gray pants. She wore the standard, athletic uniform instead of a traditional little skirt and apron. Once in reach, Elise extended the tube with a smile.
Chey eased it from her fingers. “Thanks. I don't think I'll need any more after this. You saved me last night.”
Elise studied her face from a few angles. “Yes, it is good product. You could use a little more today,” she said, gesturing to the raw places uncovered by the cover up.
Chey hadn't brought it with her when she left the castle for Sander's cabin last evening. “Yes, I certainly could.”
Elise smiled, touched Chey's arm, then stepped past for the door. “We will see you in the morning, Miss Chey.”
“Bye, Elise.”
When the door closed, Chey went into the bathroom and liberally applied the contents of the tube to her bruises. As before, she was astounded at what a good job it did. Better yet, there was no thick, cake-like texture on her skin to give away what she'd done. Leaving the tube on the counter, she changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a long sleeved sweater of deep brown. It was heavy enough, she thought, to withstand being out in the elements this evening when Sander took her to the ruins. She made sure to put fresh batteries into her camera and a blank memory card as well. Never know what she might catch out there.
Chey left the castle just before evening was due to set in. Caught by surprise at the heavy bank of thunderclouds overhead, she glanced up at the ominous flicker of lightning as she walked across the bailey. Thunder growled distantly a handful of seconds later.
Just as she reached the bailey gate, a tingle on the nape of her neck made Chey glance back at the castle. Two guards flanked the door she'd exited a moment before, paying her little attention. Her gaze ticked up to the many windows, turrets and arches that comprised the facade of the structure. From this position, the castle towered above, seeming to punch a hole in the sky.
A flicker of movement in one of the archways drew her attention. Almost before she knew what she was doing, Chey brought the camera hanging around her neck up and snapped off three quick shots. There hadn't been any time to zoom or even focus well.
By the time she lowered the camera, that telltale flicker of motion was gone. Probably another guard walking the long halls or one of the numerous servants on their way to