Heir Untamed (11 page)

“Chey?” he prompted.

She glanced down at her hands. “I can't go with you.”

“Why not?”

“I'd rather choose my next photo shoot location. I'm sorry.”

“There is definitely something you're not telling me,” he said matter-of-factly.

Chey understood then that Mattias—probably all of the Royals—were used to getting their way. He might push and push until it became even more clear than it was now that she was avoiding him for reasons other than choosing a picturesque location.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Chey fidgeted. When she glanced at his eyes, she found him staring at her with puzzled curiosity. Perhaps a sliver of concern. Since
he
was inviting
her,
wouldn't that take the pressure off spending time with him according to her attacker? It wasn't like Chey could easily turn down a request from a member of the Royal family.

Right?

She considered it.

Maybe, just maybe, Mattias's invitation would spare her any blame.

Lifting her chin with a renewed sense of belligerence, Chey decided the hell
with it.

“All right, Mis—
Mattias.
I would love to go with you to the city. Should I change into something more businesslike?”

Mattias didn't immediately relent from the incisive look he was giving her. But when he smiled, he
really
smiled. It changed his whole face, making him even more handsome than usual.

“No. Go just as you are, if you're comfortable in that. You'll prefer it over suits and heels, trust me. Meet Allar at the back entrance and he will escort you to the helicopter, where I'll be waiting. Ten minutes,” he said, and left.

Chapter Seven

The flight from the family seat to the main city of Kalev was short but packed with breathtaking scenery. Chey was able to snap aerial shots of the castle from several angles, thanks to Mattias ordering the pilot to circle the property. The landscape along the way varied between open meadows, farmland, forest and wild coastline. Once or twice, a smaller town tucked itself into the terrain, but by and large, it was acres of green and trees.

Kalev, their oldest and largest city, was a mix of old architecture and modern construction. They flew over the parts of the town preserved through the centuries by former Kings, the buildings colored like sandstone weathering the pass of time rather well. She got a few pictures from her unique vantage, and more when they approached a helipad located atop a newer highrise overlooking the ocean.

Mattias pointed it all out himself, gesturing to this or that out the windows. Dressed in the same clothes as he had been in at the castle, he looked every inch a Prince.

Landing and disembarking, Chey followed the entourage through a door on the roof and into an elevator. It skimmed down the shaft with enough speed to make Chey's stomach lurch. Done in royal blue and silver, it reminded her of the ruling family. Expensive, classy, ornate.

She understood why when the elevator opened into a private lobby, and from there to a hallway that seemed as if they'd stepped straight from the castle into the hotel. Rich furnishings, gilt mirrors and top notch design suggested the hotel paid homage to its King.

A small furor erupted as the security, followed by Mattias and Chey, entered an elaborate foyer that housed the information and registration desk. Employees greeted the men and waved, some gushing, others pointing. Several tourists paused to watch the entourage walk by.

Mattias, who carried himself regally, exuded the same magnetism that had very first drawn Chey's eye. She imagined there wasn't anything he couldn't do or achieve. This was a man used to the limelight, who
owned
the limelight, and
passed among his people with confidence and the assurance they respected and loved him.

He inclined his head to several staff and a tourist or two, enduring a flurry of photographs with a smile. Exiting onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel, Mattias glanced back, catching her eye, and led her to a waiting limousine at the curb.

Chey, overwhelmed with the entire ordeal, gave Mattias an uncertain smile.

Flashes went off from nearby cameras as the paparazzi arrived. Restrained by the security team, the photographers called Mattias's name and shouted all manner of enticements to look their way.

Expecting Mattias to disappear into the limousine ahead of her, she found him gesturing for her to go first instead. Chey ducked into the lavish vehicle and got comfortable on the seat. She wasn't surprised to find a blue and silver theme inside the limo. A small bar took up a little space to the right and another seat curved opposite the one she sat on with the Prince.

Mattias waved to the throng and slid inside.

“How do you deal with that all the time?” Chey blurted.

Mattias laughed and glanced sidelong. “We grew up this way, remember? It's nothing when you've done it all your life.”

“I wouldn't call it 'nothing',” she countered with a faint snort.

“What would you call it?” He sat with his knees slightly parted, the expensive material of his pants rustling quietly every time he moved or shifted.

“I really don't know. The right words elude me. But I don't think just anyone can pull that off.” She found it easy to be candid with the Prince despite feeling somewhat out of her element.

“Perhaps not. It's easier for me than it is for you because it's what I know. You know photography, so you're comfortable with a camera. You handle it rather than let it handle you. Me? I wouldn't know the first thing about it. The last time I held a camera of any worth, I bumbled it and nearly dropped it on the ground. It's about comfort zones and practice. With time, you get better.”

“I don't know that I would ever get better in front of all those people,” she confessed.

“All what people? That was just a handful. For the festivals, births, deaths and all that, there are thousands.”

“You like to contradict me, don't you?” she said, glancing aside.

He laughed, a dimple creasing his cheek. “You make it a delight to do so.”

“I'm going to start returning the favor.”

“You already do.”

“I don't contradict you!” Chey gaped.

He just arched his brows.

“This isn't contradicting, it's debating.”

“It's contrary,” he argued.

“Which is hardly the same as contradicting.”

Mattias cut a sharp grin her way. “You're missing Kalev.”

“What?” Chey snapped a look out the windows. He was right; the city rolled by as the limousine cruised the streets, decadent and rich with history. There was an ancient feel to the air, even where the more modern buildings encroached on the
old, as if all one had to do was close their eyes to be transported back in time.

Mattias began filling her in about the city. Who settled it, the violent past, when it came under siege by an enemy. He pointed out specific spots dedicated to the remembrance of warriors who had won their country back, and bade the driver stop numerous times so she could get out and take pictures.

He was an excellent tour guide, Chey discovered, eager to introduce her to Latvala's history. Charmed by the striking architecture and the quaint feel of the shops sitting right at the edge of the street, Chey indulged every whim to take photos.

When the limousine came to a stop outside a two story, older structure, Chey immediately reached for the door handle. Mattias rested a hand on her wrist to stay her.

“Leave the camera this time, hm?” he asked.

“What for? That's a beautiful building--”

“You'll see. Trust me.” He smiled with just his eyes.

Chey set the camera on the seat between them. “All right.”

“Excellent.” After the driver opened the door, Mattias exited the limousine and extended a hand down.

Chey took it, charmed all over by his chivalry. Of course, she wondered if it was all for show. For the cameras, even if there weren't any on the sidewalk right at that moment.

“Thanks.” Once she was out, she released him.

The security team flanked the front doors to the building on all sides, leaving a swath of sidewalk for Mattias and Chey to navigate. One of the employees, a manager perhaps, opened the door with a broad smile, cheeks flushed, head bowed.

“Welcome to Kesska's, your Highness,” the man said, gesturing grandly.

Mattias inclined his head and gestured for Chey to precede him.

Stepping inside, she understood why Mattias asked her to leave the camera behind. This wasn't a historical landmark but a retail store. A store for the affluent, judging by the quiet violin music spilling over from a small stage in the corner, the remarkable displays, and the ultra-sleek layout.

Chey fretted over the prices even before she saw a price tag. Although she'd been paid well for this trip, she didn't want to spend seven or eight grand on an outfit. Too embarrassed to admit this shop was out of her price range, Chey looked for the rounders that she thought would have the least priced articles rather than the ones on more prominent display.

“Get whatever you like. This trip is on me. Oh, and pick something on the formal side,” Mattias said near her ear. He split off from her, wandering along the walkway between sections of clothing toward a table set up with the fixings for coffee.

“But...I--” Too late. He was already gone.

All Chey could think was that if her attacker heard Mattias fronted the shopping trip, they might make another visit to her room just to hack and slash the clothes while they planted torrid evidence that would land her in jail.

She groaned. Maybe no one would find out.

After a half an hour, she warmed to her task. She found much of the designs to her liking and tried on a handful of different outfits. Unsure why she needed something 'on the formal side', she chose a demure suit of the palest gray with stunning embroidery on the collar, cuffs and hemline of the jacket. It all but screamed elegance.

Several times she caught Mattias's gaze on her, watching while he sipped coffee and lounged in a chair situated close to the coffee bar. The employees didn't bother him, nor did his security.

Just when she thought she had what she wanted, Mattias was there at her ear, having crossed the store unseen.

“The gray is nice,” he said. “But think state dinner or formal ball for the dress, hm?”

“Formal ball?” Chey glanced over her shoulder and up at his eyes. “Who's having a formal ball?”

“You ask many questions. Choose something longer.” He winked and stepped away.

And so the shopping began again. What she settled on, finally, was a snug fitting mermaid dress in palest blue that accentuated her curves and left her shoulders completely bare. The color highlighted her eyes and offset her dark hair. She added nude heels that spiked her height up a modest three inches.

Mattias, in conversation with the manager, apparently paid for it all with a gesture and a smile. Chey never saw a credit card change hands. The entire Royal family probably had carte blanche at any of the shops in town, with the bills sent to their accountants. It was all overwhelming and enlightening and Chey tried not to fret about the thousands of dollars she'd just inadvertently spent.

The retinue swept out like a tide, surrounding the limousine while she and Mattias embarked.

“That was excessive,” Chey said as the doors closed.

“Not unusual,” Mattias replied. “One would think you don't enjoy shopping. Perhaps the only female on the entire planet.”

Chey laughed and glanced aside as the limousine pulled away from the curb. “It's not that I didn't
enjoy
myself, it's just...” She flailed a hand, at a loss for words. Or, more appropriately, hesitant to explain the guilt at spending that kind of money.

“Expensive?”

“How did you know?” Chey flushed and looked out the window.

“It's not difficult to guess. It's the least I can do for--”

“For me taking pictures of Viia.” This time, Chey interrupted him.

The silence in the limousine prompted Chey to glance across the seat. Mattias watched her with a pensive expression. He made an almost flippant gesture in the air with his hand.

“Sure, yes. For taking pictures of Viia.” His tone indicated he was less than pleased with that answer.

Chey wanted to ask him what he expected of her. What he wanted, if it wasn't her talent with photography. He had to know that she was unsure why a member of the Royal household had shown her this much attention.

He couldn't be interested in her other than for work purposes. She was unconnected politically, lacking an inheritance, a foreigner and of the working class, to boot. His mother, at least, seemed to think all those things mattered more than whether love was involved or not.

A light bulb went off over Chey's head when the real reason presented itself for his interest. It had been staring her in the face this whole time.

Mattias wanted to make her his temporary mistress.

The sparks between them hadn't been a fabrication or her imagination, and he probably saw a perfect opportunity to take advantage of the situation. Now he'd spent money on her, too, and that she'd allowed it was likely some secret code between almost-lovers that she would come willingly to his bed.

Mattias pressed a button on the car door and spoke quickly in his own tongue. Maybe he'd changed his mind about their day and had ordered the driver to return them to the helicopter.

“Why the silence?” Mattias asked, proving he was not immune to her mood shift.

She ground her molars together and stared out the window.

“I have a sudden headache. Probably from the...from hitting my head.” She flickered her fingers up near her temple.

“My apologies. You should have said something sooner. Would you like to cut the day short and go home instead?”

Why did he have to sound so courteous? Now she was going to miss out on taking more pictures of the city, and who knew when she would get the opportunity to come here again.

Just because she thought he wanted to make her his mistress didn't require her to become that.