Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,67

she walked the box to the bed and removed the camera from around her neck. Setting it aside, she pried at the box until the lid came off.

Bracing herself for all manner of horror, she put the lid down and lifted back three layers of black tissue. Folded with care was a stunning garment of blood red silk. Removing it from the box, she held it at the top and let it unfurl.

The cocktail dress sported a square shaped neckline and intricate beading on the bodice. More beading decorated the cuffs of long sleeves and when she held it up against her body, the hem landed a modest half inch above her knee. It was beautifully simple yet elegant.

A quick search of the box turned up a short note that read: Be ready at six sharp.

It had to be Sander. He was going to surprise her with a trip away from the castle. Maybe to a quaint, small restaurant along the coast between here and Kalev.

Excited at the prospect, and to finally have him see her in something besides jeans and sweaters, she draped the dress over the end of the bed and headed for the shower.

She wanted to look her absolute best for their date.

. . .

Chey checked her reflection in the mirror one last time. The red silk fit her to a tee, outlining her shape with a snug bodice while the skirt flared slightly from her hips. Her eyes boasted smoky charcoal shadow and liner that accentuated the almond shape. The blue of her iris looked more vivid with her lashes coated in mascara and she'd chosen lipstick as red as the dress to paint her lips with. The wispy curls of her hair had been fashioned into a neat updo, held in place with a few cleverly placed pins. As ever, several strands slipped the fastenings and tickled the line of her throat.

Pleased overall with the effect, she daubed on a bit of feminine perfume at her wrists and throat. Transferring her wallet, ID and money into a nude purse that matched her heels, she was just snapping the clasp when a knock sounded at the door.

Grinning, anxious to see Sander in clothing a little more refined than hunting gear, she swung the door open.

“You sure know how to s--” Chey halted when she came face to face with Mattias. Austere in a black suit and red tie that matched her dress, he arched a brow.

“I sure know how to s...” Mattias repeated her and trailed, like he expected her to finish what she'd started to say.

Mattias had sent the dress? Chey stifled her disappointment and pasted on a smile. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to see the Prince—she'd just been expecting someone else.

“You sure know how to surprise a girl,” she said, completing her thought. What an understatement.

He eyed her like he knew there was more she wasn't saying, then glanced at her throat. “You're not wearing the pendant?”

Chey's fingers flew to the base of her neck. “I was just about to put it on when you knocked. Give me one second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I...sure. Sure.” Chey stepped away from the door, leaving it ajar for Mattias to follow. The necklace was back in its box in her dresser. She fished it out and handed it back, then scooped the escaped strands of her hair out of the way.

Mattias accepted it, undid the clasp, and draped the chain around her neck.

Acutely aware of his presence behind her, of his masculine cologne, she cautioned herself to tamp down her surprise and just go with it. She twitched faintly when his fingertips brushed her nape.

“There. Ready?” he asked, turning to offer his elbow.

Chey released the wisps of hair and glanced at his arm before lifting her gaze to his eyes. “Yes, sure. Where are we going, anyway? I wasn't expecting this.”

“It's a surprise. You look ravishing, by the way. Red suits you.” He led her to her door and waited patiently while she locked it behind them.

“Thanks. You look very nice yourself,” she said. But then, Mattias always did. Clean shaven, hair combed back, he was the epitome of polished masculinity. She wanted to ask him what he was doing gifting her with diamonds and expensive dresses, but decided that he would give her an answer along the lines of the one he had at lunch the other day. Maybe he was testing her to see how she performed under pressure. To what end, she couldn't