Chapter One

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Eenie, meenie, miney, mo; for which prince shall I go?

Princess Isabella Fernandez of Monte Cleure stared at the three Kalliakis princes holding
court at the far end of the Agon Palace Ballroom under the most enormous Christmas tree
she had ever seen, and tried to decide which she found the most attractive. All three were
incredibly tall, incredibly dark and incredibly handsome. They were considered the most
eligible men on the planet and soon they would have to find themselves wives. They
would have to find themselves princesses.

Well, she was a princess. She would be perfect for any of them. She would. She'd
determined at her first Christmas Ball on Agon, which she'd been allowed to attend by
her widowed father at the age of sixteen, that Agon would be the perfect island for her to
live. And now that she was twenty-one, she was deemed old enough to marry. Marriage
meant getting away from the isolation and misogyny of her home in Monte Cleure.

All she had to do was capture the attention of one of the princes. All one of them had to
do was look in her direction. And preferably notice that she'd developed into a woman
and was no longer the bratty child they'd always known her to be.

So she wasn't beautiful and willowy like her older sister, Catalina, but she wasn't ugly.
And at least she was no longer so short that she could only stare at people's kneecaps.

After three years of major orthodontist work, her teeth were straight and white. Her
ebony hair didn't naturally shine like Catalina's but expensive hairdressing treatments had
reduced its bushiness to more of a mild frizz.

Best of all, she'd had her ball gown made especially with the Kalliakis princes in mind.
Crushed velvet in ruby red, it hugged her curves like a dream, with its rounded neck
skimming her cleavage. Dressed as she was, she felt like a maiden princess of medieval
times.

One of them had to notice her. She was a princess. She'd been to finishing school! She
was perfect for any of them yet she might as well have been invisible for all the notice
they were taking of her.

Refusing to show her chagrin, Isabella took a sip of champagne. And as she did so, a
curious tingling sensation laced up her spine

In this beautiful ballroom, glittering with silver and gold Christmas decorations and filled
with over two hundred people, someone was watching her, and it wasn't one of the
Kalliakis princes.
And then she saw him.

He was propped against a wall talking to an American senator's daughter.

Sebastien Duchamp, the head of her security detail.

The ex head of her security detail.

Her heart made the most erratic thump. Her vision swam.

Isabella ground her toes into her shoes to keep herself upright. Sebastien had left his post
three weeks ago. He hadn't even had the courtesy to say goodbye. And now here he stood,
drinking champagne and dressed in a black dinner jacket and bowtie rather than the
unobtrusive suits the other security personnel wore.

When had he come back?

Why had he come back?

And why had no one told her?

Chapter Two
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Her skin warmed and Isabella's heart made another thump as his sparkling blue eyes
captured hers.

Then he raised his glass and swallowed his champagne in one.

Her belly flipped over in a most unladylike manner.

Who did he think he was? she fumed, her hackles rising. Sebastien's behaviour was
completely inappropriate.

Before she could storm overelegantly, of courseand demand to know what he was
doing there acting like a guest rather than as a paid employee, she spotted her father, the
King of Monte Cleure, heading her way.

That was the last thing she needed. He was bound to be coming over to reprimand her
over something. Then, as she noticed his approach, she saw her brother had joined the
three Agon princes, no doubt to subtly extol the virtues of Catalina.

Her father and brother were both determined to marry Catalina to one of the princes. Yet
for some reason neither of them had any inclination to help Isabella snare one of them for
herself. Whenever she mentioned her wish for marriage, as she had numerous times since
she'd turned twenty-one and at least one hundred times before, the subject was changed.
It seemed she might as well be talking to the air.

Her father made his way round the outside of the dance floor, avoiding the couples
waltzing along to the music of the Agon Royal Orchestra, but before he could reach
Isabella Sebastien stepped away from the senator's daughter and blocked the king's path.

She didn't know how he dared! Her father was terrifying! Everyone knew that. Not that
Isabella found him terrifyingjust sexist and pompousbut she had spent her life
watching people cower in her father's presence, as if one look from him could turn them
into stone.

Still, if there was one thing she had learned in the three months when Sebastien had been
in charge of her security, it was that her French bodyguard wasn't scared of anything or
anyone.

He exuded masculinity. A decade older than herself, he carried himself with authority and
seemed not to care in the least about anyone else's status. He didn't bow down to anyone,
especially not her it seemed, even if she was a member of the Fernandez royal family of
Monte Cleure.

The one time, mere days after her father had flown Sebastien in to be her chief protector,
when Isabella had snootily pointed out that protocol dictated he should bow when in her
presence, he had laughed.

"Princess," he'd said in a voice that had sent tremors racing through her skin. "If I was to
bow every time I was with you, I would spend my life stooped over. If you have a
problem with my lack of deference, take it up with your father."

But of course she had done no such thing. It wasn't only because of the feeling that her
father would laugh her out of his chamber, but also a private acknowledgement that she'd
been a brat to even mention it. She'd never reprimanded anyone before. Breaches of
protocol had never bothered her before.

Sebastien had put her on edge right from the start.

Chapter Three
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Sebastien did things to her, things she didn't understand but which made her need to
continually fight to keep him, and to keep her, firmly in their places.

When he'd left there had been a sense of relief that she didn't have to fight any more. She
didn't want to think of how that relief had soon morphed into emptiness.
And now he'd returned, all the old feelings had swarmed back to fill the crevice he'd left
in her chest.

The orchestra finished the tune they had been playing and immediately started a polka.
The Agon princes set off through the crowd but none of them even looked at her. Instead,
the three of them settled on other ladies to dance with.

If it hadn't been drummed into her that stamping one's foot was a sign of ill-breeding,
Isabella would have stamped her foot with all the force she could have mustered. At least
she would have done ten minutes ago before she'd spotted Sebastien and all her senses
had been overpowered.

Sebastien, still deep in conversation with her father, caught her eye again.

A peal of bells chimed inside her.

They were the same alarms that clanged whenever she found herself alone with him.
They were the alarms that always made her hackles rise and put her on the attack.

Then he put a hand to his chest and bowed his head to her father, a signal that their
conversation had come to a close.

Before either of them could turn their attention to her, Isabella turned on her heel and
walked quickly out of the ballroom and into the enormous Agon Palace gardens.

The chill of the winter air hit her but she didn't care. Danger was afoot. She could feel it.
Sebastien attending the ball, dressed as a guest, as her equal, conversing with her father
as his equal

It was better to escape it, before she did something she regretted.

But what that something might be she didn't know.

Outside, the tightness in her chest lessened a touch.

The palace gardens were amazing. She adored the grounds of her home palace in Monte
Cleure but here, on Agon, they were something else completely. The moonless night sky,
dotted with billions of distant twinkling stars, only added to the sense of wonder.

She shivered again. If she were one for nonsensical fancies she would say that magic was
in the air.

The main section of the gardens where she stood, the part that was often opened to the
general public, was enclosed by a perimeter of giant trees. Fairy lights had been placed
throughout the trees, lighting the way, fuelling the magical ambience.
By contrast, in the distance, the palace maze stood tall, the lights along the top of its
hedge walls casting an eerie, almost sinister glow around it.

It suited her darkening emotions perfectly.

Chapter Four
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Not looking back, not caring that her wonderfully elegant high heels kept getting stuck in
the grass, Isabella headed towards the maze.

It was believed to be one of the biggest mazes in the world and she'd wanted to explore it
ever since she'd first set eyes on it. But her visits to the Agon Palace had been few and far
between and her rigidly controlled schedule had never allowed the time for exploration.

She shivered and upped her pace. She was a princess of Monte Cleure and her absence
from the ball would not go unnoticed for long.

Up close, the maze was even more imposing.

Rather than it being fully lit as she'd expected, only the top of the hedges, which were
almost double her height, glowed.

Refusing to be daunted by anything as trivial as fear, Isabella stepped a foot into the
intimidating darkness.

And then jumped when a hand took hold of her arm.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?"

Isabella had known who the hand belonged to even before he'd spoken.

A kick in her heart had told her.

Who else could it be?

You wanted him to follow you

She took a moment to compose herself before turning and releasing her arm from
Sebastien's hold.

In the way that had become increasingly problematic for her in recent months, her tongue
knotted itself, making the indignant speech she wanted to give impossible.
It was those stupid eyes of his. Blue, like the deepest ocean. Eyes she'd had to stop
herself from staring at for longer than was appropriate far too many times. Now, in the
darkness, the colour was impossible to discern but the gleam in them was unmistakable.
It was a gleam she had seen too often for comfort. That gleam did things to her insides. It
liquidised her.

"How dare you touch me?" she finally demanded, with all the authority she could muster
when her heart was racing at a gallop and her skin had heated up like a furnace.

He held his hands up, signalling peace, although the amusement playing on his lips
negated any hint of repentance.

"I was afraid you would go into the maze and I would lose you," he said in that deep
French accent that always sent skitters dancing over her skin. "I apologise if I frightened
you," he added.

"You didn't frighten me," she said scornfully. The only thing in the world that remotely
scared her was her father's temper, which unfortunately she had a habit of rousing quite
often.

But that isn't true, is it? the little voice in her head said mockingly. Sebastien frightens
you. What he does to you

"Your reputation for fearlessness is deserved," he acknowledged. "As is your reputation

for recklessness, which is why I followed you out here. We can't have Princess Isabella
Fernandez getting lost, alone in the Agon Maze, can we?"

"I have an excellent sense of direction."

"Like you had when you went riding on your horse, gave your protection detail the slip
and were found seven hours later lost in the forest?"

Chapter Five
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"I wasn't lost," Isabella said with a glare. It had been over three months since the incident
and she hated that it was still being used against her. "I knew exactly where I was. I
merely chose to make the most of my freedom before I was hauled back to the palace."

Her horse, a mare she'd named Sable, had been a twenty-first birthday present from her
father. She'd had Sable for only a couple of days when she'd grabbed the chance for a
little freedom, cantering through the forest before her protection detail had known what
she was doing. She'd felt like a fleeing maiden of yore. The sheer exhilaration of the
moment had made her father's wrath worthwhile.
It was that particular escapade which had brought Sebastien into her life. Unfortunately
her father had been equally furious with her protection detail as he had been with her.
He'd wanted to sack the lot of them but, thankfully, he had grown tired of her pleading for
them to keep their jobs and instead had brought in a new man to head up the team.
Sebastien.

Since then, any hope of escape or freedom had been trampled on.

Sebastien had never let her out of his sight. She had never been so well protected. Not
until he'd left

"So, you're back," she said, unable to hide her bitterness. He hadn't even said goodbye.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I'm back."

The way his eyes bore into her, his gaze almost penetrating, made Isabella take a nervous
step back.

There were so many questions she wanted to hurl at him.

Where have you been?

Why did you go?

Why did you leave me?

Turning her face away so he couldn't see the sudden flash of tears in her eyes, she said
with all the coldness she could summon, "I'm sure you had good reasons to just
disappear."

"Very good reasons," he agreed. "Did you miss me?"

Miss him? All the colour had gone from her life.

Unable to tell an outright lie, she gave an unladylike derisive snort. "You're very lucky
my father is giving you another chance. Now, if you'll excuse me, I wish to be alone."

With her nose deliberately and firmly in the air, Isabella stepped into the maze.

And Sebastien followed her.

"Why aren't you doing as I've instructed?" she demanded, stopping before she'd walked
more than a few paces.

He sighed. It sounded totally mocking. "I've already explainedwe can't have you
getting lost in here. I don't think your father would be very happy, do you?"
"My father is never happy with me but you" She gave a saccharine smile. "I don't think
he'd be very happy if I were to tell him you'd disobeyed a direct order, especially after the
disappearing act you pulled. Either you leave now or you can kiss what's left of your job
goodbye."

"I don't think so," he said easily, unperturbed by her threat.

Panic gnawed beneath her skin. She fought to hide it. "I mean it. I'll destroy your job if
you don't leave me alone."

Chapter Six
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Isabella couldn't believe her father had given Sebastien his job back. The King could hold
a grudge for the whole of Monte Cleure. But then, Sebastien was the one man her father
treated with the same respect he commanded from his employees.

"We both know you won't be doing that."

"And how did you work that out?" she asked icily.

"Because, Princess, beneath your bratty outer shell, you're a sweet, tender-hearted woman
and you would never allow a man to lose his job on your behalf. You've proven that many
times."

Well, that stunned her into silence. Her mouth open, she gaped at him.

A sudden grin widened his handsome, chiselled face and from behind his back he pulled
out a bottle of champagne.

"Where did you get that?"

"One of the waitresses gave it to me."

She wouldn't ask how he'd achieved that. All he would have had to do was turn his
sparkling blue eyes on her and the waitress would have given him anything he asked for.

All the Monte Cleure palace staff fancied him; all of them, even the straight men.
Wherever he went, dozens of eyes would longingly follow. What man could possibly
resist such blatant interest? It made her skin crawl to think of any of them delighting in
his magnificent body.

Not that she thought he had a magnificent body. It was all right she supposed. Hard.
Muscular.
In the Monte Cleure palace gym, a window overlooked the indoor swimming pool. A
couple of days after Sebastien had been assigned to her, she'd happened to catch a
glimpse of him in the pool during the daily period when palace staff were allowed to use
it. She'd caught quite a few glimpses of him swimming since. Most days. Every day

"Enjoy your champagne. Now I must insist you leave. I'm perfectly safe here. This palace
is one of the few places in the world where I don't need a bodyguard shadowing my every
footstep."

"The palace advises people not to enter the maze unaccompanied at night," he pointed
out. "But I'm not here as your bodyguard, Princess. I'm simply a man with a bottle of
champagne taking a walk in a maze. If you don't want my company, there is a simple
solution."

"Which is?"

"You can turn around and go back to the palace and see if you can get any of the Kalliakis
Princes' attention. Or we can find the middle of the maze together and drink champagne
out of the bottle like a pair of commoners."

"You are a commoner," she reminded him. It was something she had to remind herself on
a daily basis.

He gave the enigmatic smile that had infuriated her for months and leaned his face close
to her. "In the darkness, we all look alike."

A whisper of his breath brushed against her cheek.

She felt her own breathing hitch and her senses, already heightened, sprang to life.

Chapter Seven
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"You're insufferable," she whispered, hating that her voice sounded so full oflonging.

"So I've been told." It was too dark to see clearly but she just knew that hateful gleam was
in his eyes.

"You're insufferable," she repeated more confidently, before sticking her nose back in the
air and diving into the comparative safety of the maze.

She reached her first crossroad and, not bothering to think, took a left, followed
immediately by a right. When she reached the next junction she took another left and then
another. And then she realised that it had taken her all of a couple of minutes to become
lost.
The maze was much, much darker than she had imagined.

And much, much bigger.

So high above her were the lights atop the maze hedges that all they created were
shadows. If she were a woman with an overactive imagination, she could easily believe
the hedges had arms that would reach out and pull her into their brambly confines.

She could hear him follow in her steps and knew that no matter how quickly she walked,
he would never let her out of his sight.

With Sebastien there, no harm would come to her.

Being a princess, Isabella had grown up surrounded by protection. It was an annoying

fact of her life. Her fatherand her mother when she had been alive, before the cancer
had taken her when Isabella was thirteenhad always done everything in his power to
keep his children safe and as a result, Isabella had never experienced a moment of real
danger. Not until she'd met Sebastien.

He was the one person who made her feel that danger was a fingertip away.

He was also the one person who made her feel like he would cocoon her in safety

"Why are you so keen to marry one of the Kalliakis Princes?" he asked after they'd spent
a good five minutes of silence in the maze.

"Who said I was keen?" she said.

"No one. To me it is obvious."

"My private life is none of your concern." She injected as much ice into her response as
she could.

"I'm only making conversation."

"I'm not here for conversation so kindly keep your thoughts to yourself."

His low mocking laughter infuriated her.

"Why do I amuse you so much?" she demanded.

"I thought you didn't want conversation?"

"You're impossible."
"That's an improvement on insufferable. By the time we leave this maze my stock in your
eyes might have risen to wonderful."

"Not in your dreams."

"You're in my dreams every night, Princess."

She didn't answer. As if she was in his dreams. Men always fell for Catalina, not for her.

Her heart suddenly jolted as the most horrifying image came into her mind of Sebastien
and Catalina together

She blinked it quickly away.

Chapter Eight
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Like Isabella, Catalina was a virgin and would remain one until she married. One of the
reasons their lives were so strictly regulated and controlled was to ensure this. Only the
best possible marriage to a high-born man would be considered for either of the
Fernandez Princesses.

The idea of Catalina with anyone was laughable.

But the idea of her older sister with Sebastien, as ridiculous as the notion was, wrenched
Isabella's stomach.

They lapsed into another silence but this time she was aware of noise. It was the sound of
her heart beating.

"If you're not working, then why are you here?" she asked quickly, seeking anything that
would distract her from the heightened sensation of her skin and the surge of her pulse.

"I was invited."

"Who would invite you to an Agon Palace Ball?" She knew she sounded like a stuck up
cow. She knew it. But she couldn't control herself. Not with Sebastien. If she didn't keep
hold of the icy demeanour then

There was every chance she would melt.

"I will answer your question if you answer one for me," he said, as if her snide remark
was something he either hadn't noticed or had chosen to ignore.

"Go on," she agreed cautiously.

"Out of the hundreds of people who work for your family, why am I the only one who
evokes your ire?"

So he had noticed.

"You're not the only one. It's a well-known fact on Monte Cleure that I am a pain in the
derriere."

"That you most certainly are," he agreed with a chuckle. "But that doesn't alter the fact
that there isn't a member of your staff who wouldn't take a bullet for you."

Isabella stopped walking. Was he mocking her again?

"Really?"

"Really." Although she could only see the planes and angles of his handsome face in the
darkness, she could sense his demeanour taking on a serious hue. "Your family are
famously polite but you're the one who takes the time to learn every member of staff's
name. You're concerned with them. You ask about their families and your interest is
genuine. You send them gifts when there is something for them to celebrate"

"That's just being a human being," she said, cutting him off, embarrassed. She was so
used to being reprimanded that receiving praise made her feel all jittery.

"But you're not an ordinary human being. You're a princess and yet you make people feel
as if they're someone in your eyes and that's a rare gift. You're a sweet, genuine girl who
has flowered into a beautiful woman. Which is why I am wondering what it is about me
that makes your tongue turn caustic."

He thought she was beautiful?

With her head spinning, her senses reeling and the urge to grab hold of him stronger than
it had ever been, Isabella went marching onwards, deeper and deeper into the maze.

Chapter Nine
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The heels of Isabella's feet were starting to hurt but the pain seemed more of a distant
ache than anything real. Her awareness of Sebastien was too great for anything else to
penetrate.

She should never have entered the maze.

She had brought this danger entirely on herself.

"Do I have to wait all evening for your answer?" he asked. It didn't matter how fast she
walked, she couldn't shake him off.

"I don't know why," she finally muttered.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the best I can give. Youunnerve me." How she hated her inability to lie. It had got
her into a whole heap of trouble throughout her life.

"But I'm a commoner. What is there about me that could possibly unnerve you?"

"It's that," she snapped. "The way you talk to me and look at me" It was like he
undressed her with his eyes. "You're far too familiar."

"Your other staff are familiar with you."

"That's different."

"Why? Because you're attracted to me?" He didn't pose it as a question really, but more as
a statement of fact.

Her mouth fell open.

"The very idea is ridiculous," she spluttered.

"What if I were to tell you that the attraction is reciprocated?"

"Then I would call you a liar. If you were attracted to me, you wouldn't"

He wouldn't have left her. He wouldn't have broken her

The atmosphere of the maze was clearly affecting her. She'd almost managed to convince
herself that his sudden disappearance had broken her heart.

"I wouldn't?" he prompted her, breaking the silence.

"Forget it. I've answered your question. Now you can answer mine who invited you to
the Christmas Ball?"

"Talos Kalliakis."

"Why did he invite you?"

"That's a second question. You must answer another of mine before I tell you."
She knew she shouldn't be playing this game. It was dangerous, as dangerous as walking
deeper into the maze with him.

"One more question," she agreed, ignoring her own good advice.

"Why do you want to marry one of the Kalliakis Princes?"

"They need wives and the only way I'm going to leave Monte Cleure is if I marry."

"Do you hate your home so much?"

Did she?

"I don't hate it," she said quietly. "I'm just" How could she explain the emptiness that
was her life?

"Bored?" he supplied.

Her eyes flickered to him. It was the first time she had allowed herself to look at him in
minutes.

Looking at Sebastien always made her stomach feel as if she was riding a roller coaster.

"What is there for me to do on Monte Cleure?" Isabella suddenly blurted out. "Dominic
will take my father's throne and all of his duties. They've only just started trying to marry
Catalina off and she's twenty-five. I don't want to spend the next four years doing nothing
but prance around the palace trying to look pretty. I want a life! Under our law I'm not
allowed to do anything without my father's permission and he never lets me do anything.
If I marry I will gain my freedom."

Chapter Ten
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"Divorce is forbidden on Agon," Sebastien pointed out reasonably. "You could be

exchanging one prison for another."

"The princes are good meneveryone knows that. They're warriors but they're not
tyrants. None of them would stifle me or wrap me up in cotton wool."

"Which one would you prefer to marry?"

She shrugged. "Any would do."

"So you're not in love with one of them?" There was a tone in his voice she'd never heard
before.
Isabella felt his eyes boring into her as he awaited her response.

"No."

He straightened his spine and inhaled deeply through his nose. "Do you not hope for
love?"

"I am a princess of Monte Cleure. I have been trained since birth to believe in duty, not
love."

"That is not an answer."

"That's the best I can give. And you still haven't answered my question. Why did Talos
invite you to the ball?"

"We're old friends."

"If you're old friends then why have I not seen you at any of the other Christmas balls?"

"You would have noticed my presence?"

She would have to be blind not to notice him. Sebastien was the most beautiful man she'd
ever laid eyes on.

"Most of the people who attend the Agon Christmas Ball are familiar faces," she said
tightly. "Yours would not have been a familiar face so of course I would have noticed
you."

"I usually take the Christmas period off to spend time with my family so I've never
accepted Talos's invitation before," he explained.

A pang twisted in her stomach. "Won't you see your family this Christmas, then?"

"YesI'll be travelling to France in a couple of days to be with them."

Isabella did not like the way the thought of Sebastien being in a different country to her
made the pang in her gut clench even tighter. He'd only just come back to her

She liked to think of him as a lone-wolf, not as a man with a family he loved.

It was much safer to keep away from anything personal.

"Well, good," she said briskly. "Now you can tell me how you know Talos."

"It's my turn to ask a question."

"Not this time. Answer mine and I'll answer yours."

"And after that can we play you show me yours and I'll show you mine?"

Isabella came to an abrupt halt and glared at him.

"You're incorrigible."

"Another upgrade from insufferable," he pointed out, and she caught another glimpse of
that gleam in his eyes. "We're getting there."

"We're not going anywhere. There is no we." There never could be. Not ever. No matter
how much

"So if I were to take you in my arms and kiss you, you would push me away?"

"I would scream as loudly as I could."

"Who would hear you?"

"My screams are very loud."

"I look forward to hearing them." He bowed his head.

"You"

"Shall we try?" He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "Shall we see
what happens if I kiss you?"

Chapter Eleven
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She gripped hold of his armshe could have sworn she had never felt anything that hard
and tried to shake him off. "Get your hands off me."

His hold tightened. "One kiss. And then I'll let you go."

He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he brought his face down to hers and captured her
lips with his own.

Her pulse racing, her ears ringing, Isabella held her breath, as if denying herself oxygen
could keep her reactions at bay.

But his kiss was sotender.

Holding her snugly to him, he moved his mouth over hers softly, caressingly, playing
with her until a whimper she had no control over escaped from her throat.

She hadn't known it would be like this. She hadn't known anything could be like this.

His tongue probed so gently that her lips parted of their own accord.

Valiantly she tried to hang on, to not capitulate to the sensual assault Sebastien's firm lips
were making on hers and the delicious sweep of his tongue in her mouth.

Her bones softened and heated and the effect spread through her veins, flowing through
to her skin, fully awakening a craving she had only known since Sebastien had come into
her life.

For three months he'd disturbed her dreams. She would bolt upright in the middle of the
night with perspiration on her skin, a thundering heart and a need so deep inside her she
had no clue how to rid herself of it.

And there he would be, right there in the back of her mind. That magnificent body
haunting her nights as well as her days.

Because he had haunted her days.

When she hadn't had to go anywhere, she would take walks around the Monte Cleure
Palace grounds, constantly on the lookout for a glimpse of him.

If she'd had to be driven anywhere, he would be at her side, his muscular thighs inches
from her own oh, the heat she would feel emanating from him. Her hands would
clench into fists to stop her fingers from reaching out to touch him.

If ever he'd had a day off, her heart would sink to find he wasn't part of the day's security
staff. Not just her heartshe would sink, her mood falling from the highs of anticipation
to the lows of disappointment.

And then he'd simply disappeared.

When she'd questioned her father about it, his eyebrows had raised sharply. "He's gone"
was all her father had been prepared to say on the subject but his unspoken question had
been clearwhy was his daughter, a princess, enquiring about a member of staff?

She'd taken her inexplicable emptiness and smothered it, unwilling to admit, even to
herself, how much she missed him.

And now, like a mirage, he'd reappeared and here he was, kissing her, devouring her; all
the secret dreams she'd buried away inside herself were coming to life, her heart wanting
nothing more than to race out of her body and jump into his.
Chapter Twelve
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No, she was a princess. She shouldn't be doing this. This was everything she'd been
fighting against.

Moaning in anguish, she wrenched herself away, pushing at his chest.

With a defiance she didn't feel, she wiped his kiss away from her mouth with her
fingertips.

"You had no right to do that," she began, in a voice that sounded as if it belonged to
someone else. She backed away from him.

"It's as if you've never been kissed before."

That's because she hadn't been. The closest she'd ever been to a man before had been on
the dancefloor.

The glimmer in Sebastien's eyes made her think he already knew that.

As the heel of her shoe caught in the soft lawn she stumbled, and would have fallen flat
on her bottom if he hadn't been there to catch her.

"Careful, Princess," he whispered hoarsely, his strong arms holding her so securely it was
more than temptation itself not to melt back into him.

Helpless to resist, she gazed into his eyes. If the shadowy light wasn't playing such tricks,
she would have sworn she could have seen tenderness emanating from him.

She couldn't bear to see it.

She squeezed her eyes shut so her mind couldn't play futile games with her anymore.

Sebastien helped her stand upright, placing her as if she were a precious object to be
revered.

"We should try to find the way out now," she whispered.

He laughed but there was none of the humour she'd heard thus far in the sound. "What if
there isn't a way out?"

She ignored the double meaning of his words and tone. She had to ignore it.

Whatever she felt for him, nothing could ever come of it.
"You should take your shoes off," he said, his voice returning to normal. "I don't think
four inch heels are designed for traipsing around mazes."

"Five inches," she contradicted, pleased to find her own voice had also returned to
normal, which was amazing considering her lips felt almost bruised from his kiss. More
than bruised. They felt alive.

"I stand corrected. Even so, if you stand on your bare feet you'll feel much more
comfortable." He extended a hand to her.

Taking a deep breath, she took it, allowing his giant fingers to wrap around her own,
using his strength to support her as she leaned down to take off her shoes. When she was
steady she freed herself from his hold and picked up her shoes, holding them in each
hand so she wouldn't be tempted to entwine her fingers through his.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth instead of answering him.

Without her heels she had to crane her neck to see him properly through the shadow.

There were moments, like now, when his sheer size seemed magnified.

Chapter Thirteen
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If it was anyone but Sebastien, Isabella would be kicking herself for getting into this
situation where she was alone in a dark maze with a man large enough to crush her
windpipe with one hand.

Yet she knew he would sooner crush his own windpipe than lay a finger on her to hurt
her.

She knew it would be the same even if her father wasn't paying him to protect her.

And she had let him kiss her. Worse still, she had kissed him back.

She could still feel his fingers twined through her hair

They set off again. The darkness in the maze was so thick Isabella had no way of
knowing whether they were closer to the centre or the exit.

"How would you be coping if I hadn't caught up with you before you entered the maze?"
Sebastien asked after a long passage of silence had passed during which Isabella had tried
desperately hard to stop her body from leaning towards him.
His question perplexed her. "What do you mean?"

"I would imagine even the bravest of men would experience fear if they found
themselves lost in this maze in the middle of the night."

She caught his meaning and bristled. "You think that without your protection I would
already have turned into a panicking wreck?"

"Not at all. But for months I've assumed your fearlessness was an act of bravado," he
said. "But it isn't, is it?"

Isabella kept her focus forward. "The greatest terror for a child is to lose her mother. I
lived that terror when I was thirteen years old. After that there was nothing left for me to
be scared of. I'd lived through the worst that life could throw at me."

She could feel his eyes upon her, watching her closely.

Only three weeks ago Sebastien had accompanied her when she'd attended her mother's
crypt in the Fernandez mausoleum so she could lay flowers there on what would have
been her mother's birthday. He'd kept a discreet, unobtrusive distance but knowing he was
there, watching her it had given her a sense of comfort that had been missing from her
life for eight years.

It hadn't felt as if he was there to give protection.

It had felt as if he was looking out for her, not from the point of view of his wallet but out
of empathy. Caring.

She remembered the journey back to the palace. She had sat in mute silence while he had
confided that he'd lost a brother at a young age too. She hadn't been able to respond, had
simply turned her face to his and looked into his ocean blue eyes. And in that moment,
something had passed between them, an understanding much more profound than simple
shared grief.

She couldn't allow herself to understand what had passed between them.

She'd wrenched her gaze from his, balling her trembling fingers that yearned to touch him
into fists and, as soon as they'd returned to the palace, she had left the car without a single
word.

That had been the last time she'd seen him.

Chapter Fourteen
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The next day morning Sebastien had been gone. And she'd never felt so alone.

It could never be. It would never be allowed.

Now, with that thought sustaining her, she shrugged off the hand she longed to smother
with kisses and propelled herself forward, keeping a tight grip of her shoes.

"What do you want to do with your life, Princess?" he asked quietly, easily matching her
pace again.

The intimacy with which he spoke made her chest tighten.

She cleared her throat, turning left at a junction of the maze without any thought.

"I'm a princess," she answered finally with a tremble in her voice. "My whole life has
been built towards turning me into a princess that any prince would find himself worthy
of. That's my whole purpose. I have nothing to offer other than my title, and that will go
to whomever my father judges suitable."

"Unless you snare one of the Kalliakis Princes," he pointed out wryly.

She paused for a moment, having to think what he might be referring to, then she
remembered her plan for the evening.

That had been her plan only an hour ago.

One little hour that felt like a whole lifetime ago.

"What if you were free to choose your own husband?" His voice lowered. "Would you
want to marry one of the Kalliakis Princes then?"

Incapable of lying, she shook her head.

"If you could be anything in the world what would you be?"

"Free." The word popped out of her mouth before she could pull it back.

The look he gave her warmed her in ways she couldn't explain. And suddenly she found
herself talking.

"I dream of freedom. I dream of walking to my father's harbour, helping myself to a yacht
and leaving."

"Where would you go?"

"Everywhere. I would go to all the countries I could, I would meet and talk to as many
people as I coulddo you realise how limited my social group is? I would try their
foods, food cooked by real people, not top chefs who refine and rework it so it barely
resembles the dish it's supposed to be. I would swim in all the oceans, float on the dead
seayes, I know it's landlockedand, at some point in some place on my travels I
would find out what I could do with my life other than prance around in pretty dresses
and spend my days riding my horse because my formal education is over and I have
nothing else to do."

Only when she had finally finished did Isabella notice they'd both stopped walking and
that Sebastien was now so close, staring at her with the same expression he'd worn right
before he'd kissed her.

"You are like Rapunzel locked in the tower straining to see the world," he said, placing a
hand at the swan of her neck and leaning towards her.

Chapter Fifteen
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Terrified that he meant to kiss her again and even more scared by how badly she wanted
him to, Isabella stepped out of his reach and continued to walk.

She had no idea how long they'd been in the maze.

Time had lost all meaning.

"What about you?" she asked, frantic to move the conversation away from herself and her
traitorous, always truthful tongue. "Do you have any plans to marry?"

"Yes."

His answer was so unexpected she almost tripped over her own feet.

Immediately his arm was there, holding her waist, keeping her upright.

She let it rest there a moment longer than she knew she should, like an addict getting a
quick fix, before she shrugged herself out of his hold and took the left turn at the fork
they'd reached.

"You surprise me," she said, trying to force jollity into her tone, trying to pretend she
couldn't still feel the heat of his arm around her. "You don't strike me as the marrying
kind," she added.

"I never struck myself as the marrying kind." He gave a rueful chuckle. "But life has a
habit of taking you in directions you never intended."
"So you're already engaged?"

"Not yet. But I hope to be."

"Oh," was all that came from her mouth.

Somehow in the timehowever long it had beenwhich they had spent in the maze, the
amusement Sebastien had carried with him when they had first entered had seeped away.

"Do you love her?" she forced herself to ask.

"More than I dreamed was possible."

A violent storm erupted in the pit of her stomach, twisting and turning with the force of a
hurricane.

In all the months he'd been the head of her protection, by her side, a huge presence in her
life and her dreams, not once had she thought he might have a lover.

She knew everything about all her other staff. As soon as they started at the palace she
would interrogate them, always wanting to know who they were other than their mere job
title. She had never asked Sebastien those questions. Everything she knew about him had
been volunteered by him, not requested.

She'd been scared to hear the answers to her probing, scared her feelings would develop
so much she would no longer be able to contain them.

Her stomach performed another violent lurch.

She had allowed him to kiss her. She had kissed him back. And all the while he loved
someone else.

A burst of fury surged through her, so powerful that she would have launched herself at
him with fists flying and everything, but suddenly the most enormous clearing emerged
before them.

They'd found the centre of the maze.

And it was a thousand times more wonderful than Isabella could ever have imagined.

Chapter Sixteen
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Right in the centre stood the famed fountain of the maze - a marble couple, immortalised.
She recognised the depiction of Poseidon by the trident in his marble hand but she didn't
know the goddess at his side, whose hands were raised in a pinching gesture. A dolphin
danced before them. Water spurted from the goddess's fingers and the dolphin's mouth.
Around the fountain itself were four curved concrete benches.

All the anger sifted out of her.

Isabella drifted forward and sat down on one of the benches, transfixed by the fountain. It
had an ethereal, almost magical quality to it.

"That's Poseidon and his wife Amphitrite, the goddess Queen of the Sea," Sebastien said
quietly, seating himself next to her. "When Poseidon asked for her hand in marriage,
Amphitrite fled to Atlas for sanctuary and protection. The dolphin is Delphin, the
dolphin-god who found her and got her to agree to marry Poseidon."

"She was forced into marrying him?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Did she find happiness with him?" she asked wistfully, thinking of her own loveless
future marriage.

Why couldn't she be like Catalina? Her sister accepted her fate without a word of
complaint. Isabella wished she could have such stoicism. However desperate she was to
be free of Monte Cleure and its archaic laws, to think of a future without any love

Oh, if she could marry someone who made her feel a fraction of what Sebastien made her
feel she could be happy.

But Sebastien was a big, cheating rat.

Sebastien had kissed her and he was in love with someone else.

"I don't know about happiness but she did grow to love him, and love him with a
passion," he explained. "Mythology has it that she became so jealous of Poseidon's
attachment to the young water-nymph Scylla that she poisoned the spring where Scylla
bathed, turning her into a six-headed monster."

"How can that be love? Love isn't cruel," Isabella said with a certainty she didn't possess
because she knew with horrifying certainty that the violent tempest raging inside of her
was jealousy. Every time she'd been sickened by the sight of women flirting with him and
undressing him with their eyes It had been jealousy.

"Love and hate are intimately entwined. Passionate love can drive a man and woman to
act in ways they never thought possible."

"Would you turn a rival into a six-headed monster?"

"If I had the power? Who knows? I do know that if anyone were to hurt the woman I
love, I would drive a dagger through their heart without a second thought."

"But what if she doesn't love you? What if she marries someone else?"

"Then I would take myself away. I would go to the furthest point on the earth from them
so the temptation to chain her to me forever couldn't be acted upon."

"You wouldn't force her like Poseidon forced Amphitrite?"

He shook his head, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch
in her throat. "Never. I would rather die than make her unhappy. If she is to be mine it
must come from her otherwise it would be a false love."