Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,81

latch.

Once she was gone, Chey picked at her food for another fifteen minutes. She managed to get enough down to stave off hunger pains over night and covered the rest with lids.

Lighting a few candles in the bathroom, she sank into the jacuzzi tub, flipped on the jets, and soaked for a while. Her mind raced with questions and suppositions, discarding one idea for another. It was maddening and disconcerting, the constant buzz of activity. She couldn't shut her thoughts down at all.

By the time she crawled out of the tub, she was wrinkled and her skin was pink. Still, her mind revolved around Sander and his request that she at least think about staying and giving them a shot to work it out.

Too restless to sleep, she pulled on jeans and a simple zip up, velveteen shirt in pink. After sliding on socks and shoes, she departed her room for a walk. Glad to see the hallway empty, she decided to head downstairs to the gallery and the portraits lining the walls. Passing several guards, she returned polite nods and wondered at something vague that kept niggling her mind. It was one of those things she couldn't pinpoint for the life of her yet persisted enough to pose a distinct distraction.

At least until she reached the gallery. It was a long hallway on the main floor with paintings of Ahtissari ancestors dating back centuries. All the Kings were on the left, the Queens and children on the right. Crossing her arms over her chest, she began meandering along the corridor, taking her time with her study of each one. The archways leading into parlors and libraries and other formal rooms were dark at this time of night, the guests of the party long departed.

Several feet from a dark sitting room, she heard the low thrum of voices. Pausing, she cocked her head to see if she heard it again. Maybe she was imagining it. A moment later, the voices resumed. Taking a few steps closer to the doorway, she tried to make out the words. They were male voices, no doubt about that.

“So just how well did you look after her, anyway?” Sander asked with a note of curious caution.

Chey caught a gasp before it could slip free.

“Does it matter?” Mattias answered.

“It does if there are feelings involved.”

“She's a unique woman. I'm not sure she realizes her own appeal,” Mattias said.

“Did you kiss her?” A harder edge entered Sander's voice.

“Not once. But I thought about it a time or two.”

Shocked, Chey covered her lips with her fingers. Mattias wasn't hiding the spark that had flared between them. She would have preferred to brush it under the carpet and forget it ever happened.

“And Chey? Is she interested in you that way?”

“There was a mutual attraction—is—a mutual attraction, but it was never more than that. You needn't worry, brother. I'm not going to attempt to win her from you.”

Chey had half a mind to interrupt them. She wanted to tell Sander that yes, there had been a mutual attraction, and yes, she had wondered what Mattias wanted from her. More than anything, she wanted to tell him that after the canoe trip, she'd consciously put a block up between her and Mattias. Not just that...Sander had become the focus of her attention and interest. She wanted to confess that in the tower, on the stairs, for those few terrifying seconds after the gunshot, she'd been stricken with fear that Sander had gone down instead of the attacker.

“A wise choice. We have a chance, her and I, and I mean to put us both to the test. I'll crush anyone who stands in my way.”

“Spoken like the true heir to the throne,” Mattias said. Wryness could be detected in his reply.

“Don't act like you wouldn't do the same. We all know your 'relationship' with Viia is, and has been, a complete farce.” Sander scoffed. The clink of ice in a glass followed.

“It has kept mother off my tail for an entire year. We can't say the same about you, can we?” Mattias laughed a devilish kind of laugh. “Speaking of which—good luck with that.”

“Mm.” Sander hummed agreement. “What's worse, is her father and mother want the match, too. I believe he is going to petition father for an official marriage decree.”

The woman Sander had gone to see. Whoever she was, she must belong to a powerful family. Chey frowned. Her assessment that things would be difficult for her and Sander was truer