to the man himself and the Ahtissari family name. But she wasn't, and they weren't. They were just images in oil on canvas, preserved for posterity, reminders of those who had come before.
It was up to Chey to figure out if she wanted to engage in a courtship that might become something more.
Chapter Eighteen
The following day, after a restless night's sleep, Chey showered and changed into clothes geared for cold weather. Drawing on a coat that landed a few inches past her knees, she gathered her camera, departed the castle and headed outdoors. Ankle deep snow didn't inhibit her trek into the bailey, where she paused several times to take pictures of the castle. It was stunning with a dusting of white on the turrets and spires.
From this vantage, a surreal quality surrounded the entirety of the Ahtissari family seat. The daunting structure sprawled over several acres of land, protected by gates and guards, the Royal flag flying high from a tall mast. There was so much history, so much prestige.
If she was truthful, Chey didn't feel qualified to even consider dating a Royal heir. She was a small town girl, from a small family, with no worldly experience behind her. The Ambassadors, Liaisons, Princes and other Royalty of the world would likely eat her alive.
There were no guarantees that she and Sander would even make it beyond the courting stage. The question became whether she thought it was worth the risk to try. Snapping another picture, she let the camera hang around her neck and gave her situation the grave consideration it deserved. She had to make a decision soon.
In her quest to find new angles to capture the castle, she made her way through the bailey, into a covered corridor and out into the front courtyard where the cars parked to drop off Royals and guests alike. Just before she could step out of the shadows, a flurry of movement from the doors drew her attention. Pausing near the wall, she watched as a security detail emerged and fanned out near a sleek black car parked before the stairs.
A moment later, Sander strode out, dapper in a suit of black. The shirt beneath was crisp and white, his tie a pale blue that probably accentuated his eyes to perfection. Wearing shades to cut the glare of the sun, he had his golden hair tied back at his nape.
Her heart flipped over at the masculine authority he projected, at how her initial instinct was to drop everything and run to him.
Bringing up the camera, she snapped several shots of him on his way to the car and getting inside. It was almost inconceivable to her that this was the same man who had taunted and goaded her on the canoe trip. The one who had expertly cooked her fajitas and tackled her to the ground at the first sound of gunfire. He wore many hats, could step into any guise and pull it off effortlessly.
Outdoorsman, canoe expert, chef, businessman, heir to the throne. Fighter. Lover.
After the car pulled away, Chey spent the next hour photographing the castle from the courtyard and the flag that flew high overhead. Engaging in something she loved so much helped her sort through the problems with Sander.
Finally, with enough pictures to suit, she made her way inside. Taking the stairs to the second level, she headed to her bedroom and closed herself behind a locked door. Removing the camera from around her neck, she set it on the dresser and popped the latch to pull the little image card out.
It was then that the thing that had been niggling at her bloomed into a distinct thought that made her stifle a gasp with her fingers.
Setting the card down, she hastily pulled her cell phone from her pocket and shot off a quick text to Sander. She hoped he didn't have his turned off for whatever errand he'd left on.
“Put the phone down, Chey.”
Closing her eyes, Chey exhaled a quiet breath of frustration. And fear. Turning around, she faced Elise.
The maid had a gun with a long silencer pointed at her head.
“I should have realized last night that no one would have told you about the south tower,” Chey said. That's what had been bothering her. Elise had known details no one would have given her. Why hadn't she thought about it sooner?
You've been distracted with everything else. It wasn't any consolation, her distraction with Sander and his offer.
“I wondered when you were going to