LITMIR.BIZ

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espionage. And Liv was through speaking in whispers and sneaking around.

      She pulled Brit down onto a long, padded bench near the door. ‘‘I couldn’t leave until I talked to you.’’ Quickly she told everything—of the meeting in her father’s private audience chambers and the one right after it with Finn. When she’d finished, she commanded, ‘‘I want you to come home with me. Get packed and we’re out of here.’’

      But Brit wasn’t moving. ‘‘I’m not ready to go yet.’’

      ‘‘Are you out of your mind? He’s probably got this room bugged and can hear everything we’re saying. If he’s capable of that, think what else he might be willing to—’’

      ‘‘Liv. Listen. I’m staying. Our father…is who he is. And I don’t care if he has spies on me. He’s not going to learn anything I’m not willing for him to know, especially not now that I’m aware he’s doing it.’’

      ‘‘But he might do anything. You don’t know what might happen to you here.’’

      ‘‘He’s not going to hurt me. I’m his daughter, and so are you.’’

      ‘‘Argh. Don’t remind me.’’

      ‘‘In his own overbearing way, he loves us both very much.’’

      Liv had to admit she didn’t really believe Osrik would hurt Brit. And Brit seemed so firm about staying.

      ‘‘Oh, Brit…’’

      ‘‘I’ll be fine.’’

      ‘‘Are you certain?’’

      ‘‘I am.’’

      Liv gave up and called for a car, half expecting to be told one wasn’t available and that the royal jet would not be at her disposal, after all.

      She was gearing up for another confrontation with her father when an attendant appeared to carry her bags down.

      Liv hugged her sister good and hard. ‘‘You be careful. I will kill you if you get yourself hurt.’’

      ‘‘I promise. I’m going to be fine. Have a safe trip.’’

      The drive to the small airport was uneventful. And the royal jet—a Gulfstream capable of flying straight through to California without a stop—was waiting, ready to go as soon as Her Highness could board and the flight plans could be cleared.

      Her driver opened her door for her and ushered her from the car, detouring next to the trunk, where he hauled out her bags and turned them over to the porter who would load them in the luggage compartment.

      The air was clear and the wind was up. Liv could smell the ocean on it. Overhead, a few gulls dipped and soared. She smoothed her blowing hair off her face and ran for the steps that led up to the passenger door.

      The pretty attendant—the same one who’d taken care of Liv and Brit on the flight over—greeted her at the top. ‘‘Welcome, Your Highness. So lovely to have you flying with us again.’’

      Liv gave the woman a big smile and ducked into the cabin to find that there was one other passenger traveling with her: Finn Danelaw.

       Chapter Six

      Liv hovered in the galley area, the flight attendant at her back, glaring at the man waiting for her in the cabin.

      ‘‘Liv. Welcome.’’ Finn rose from the plush leather seat and held out a fine long-fingered hand as if inviting her to dance.

      Liv swept through the narrow doorway into the cabin, then stopped short and turned back to the flight attendant. ‘‘Excuse us for a moment.’’ She shut the door in the attendant’s pretty, bewildered face and whirled on Finn. ‘‘I’ll ask the obvious. What are you doing here?’’

      He gave her one of his oh-so-elegant shrugs. ‘‘You wouldn’t come to my home. I thought I might visit you in yours.’’

      ‘‘What we had to say to each other has been said. It’s done, finished, through. I will never again have anything to do with you. Thus, it’s impossible for you to ‘visit’ me.’’

      ‘‘I hope to convince you to reconsider my suit.’’

      ‘‘I absolutely will not. I meant what I said. I won’t marry you. No matter what…happens.’’

      ‘‘You won’t marry me. I understand. You’ve said it repeatedly. There’s no need to say it again.’’

      ‘‘Oh, why can’t I get through to you?’’

      ‘‘But Liv darling, you have gotten through to me.’’

      ‘‘I am not your darling.’’

      ‘‘Ah. Yes. I believe you’ve mentioned that, too.’’

      ‘‘Then don’t call me that.’’

      He dropped into the chair again, rested an elbow on the wide, padded arm and looked up at her, an absolutely infuriating expression of charmed bemusement on his gorgeous face. ‘‘He who fights shadows only squanders his strength.’’

      She really, sincerely, wanted to bop him on the head with her Balenciaga lariat bag. ‘‘What is that? One of those obscure Gullandrian sayings of yours?’’

      ‘‘Hardly of mine. And I do think the meaning is clear.’’

      ‘‘There is no point to this. This will get you exactly nowhere.’’

      ‘‘So you’ve explained to me. I find, though, that I have an unrelenting yearning to see Sacramento.’’

      ‘‘Oh, right.’’ She was truly furious. She felt as if, any second now, steam would start hissing out of her ears. ‘‘Prime vacation destination in the Golden State. No doubt about it. What’s Monterey, San Francisco, Santa Barbara, when you can be in Sacramento?’’

      One corner of his mouth lifted. Lazily. Seductively. ‘‘A visit of…two or three weeks, I would say…’’

      Oh, there was absolutely no point in talking with him. It got her nowhere and seemed to provide him an endless source of amusement.

      Should she deplane?

      To what purpose? She’d just have to find some other way to get home. And Finn would still be there when she arrived.

      She turned from him abruptly and yanked open the door to the galley area. The attendant stood on the other side, looking sheepish.

      ‘‘Come in, come in,’’ Liv said with heavy irony. ‘‘Prince Danelaw and I have nothing more to say to each other.’’

      Liv put the man on permanent ignore. For the entire flight, she did not say one word to him.

      They were served an excellent meal of veal medallions with pasta salad and artichokes. Liv savored hers in silence, careful never to let her gaze stray in the direction of the prince, shaking her head when the attendant offered her a glass of wine. It would be a long time before she let anything with alcohol in it cross her lips again.

      After she’d eaten, she moved to the bedroom half of the cabin, pulled the accordion doors shut and didn’t emerge for the several hours left in the flight.

      It worked out fine. She had a bed to stretch out in and a rest room all to herself if she needed it. She watched a movie, read the new Sandra Day O’Connor memoir and told herself she was hardly giving a thought to the patient, gorgeous, relentless man on the other side of the flimsy doors.

      She even had the foresight to call ahead and arrange for a cab to be waiting at the other end. Her father had sent a limousine to pick her up and take her to the airport for the flight to Gullandria, but she had no illusions he would have made any such arrangement now. She was not going to be stuck without a ride—not with the ever-resourceful

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