Once Upon a Valentine (22 page)

She didn’t need him anymore. In fact, there would almost certainly be no place in her life for an adventurer with a less-than-sterling reputation. She was back to being the proper, respected historian. What could she possibly want with a guy who, minutes ago, had been considering digging jewels out of an ancient throne with his knife?

They were mismatched, completely wrong for each other. The romantic interlude was over. Now it was time for both of them to get back to reality—a reality that didn’t include them.

They couldn’t be together. Not in her world. Not in his.

He was going to have to let her go.

7

ASHLYNN SENSED RAINE’S near-desperation as he kissed her, and wondered what he was thinking. Possibly he was just slightly overwhelmed, like she was. Happy. Excited.

Not saying goodbye. Please, don’t let him be saying goodbye.

But somehow, deep down, she knew he was. She didn’t know why, but she sensed the change in him.

Maybe it was because they’d come to the end of the adventure. They’d discovered the big prize, and Raine—a “finder”—had never said he was one who liked to stick around once he’d found something. Be it an artifact, a historical site…or a woman.

When they finally drew apart, she managed a tremulous smile, willing her heart to stop pounding and her imagination to stop going places she didn’t want it to go. They’d just arrived. There was no way Raine was going to walk away now. He’d stay for a while, she knew it. And hopefully, during that time, she’d find a way to convince him to stay a little longer. Or else she could talk him into taking her with him when he left.

That was insane, considering there was so much to do here. But Ashlynn knew that if she let him just walk out of her life, she’d regret it until the end of her days.

She’d found her great prize, finished her father’s work.

Now she was ready to live.

“Raine…”

“You do know there’s one thing I’m dying to see, right?”

She swallowed, not sure whether to be glad or not that he’d interrupted what might have been an embarrassing confession. What if she’d said “I love you” and he said nothing in return? Worse, what if her admission made him leave?

“Ash?” he prompted, apparently noticing her silence. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

She doubted it. Then, quickly bringing her mind back into the game, as they said in his world, she made herself focus on the here and now. On the excitement she’d felt just a few moments before. And she realized she knew what he was talking about. There was much to see, much to explore, but one secret place screamed to be discovered.

He stepped away and took her hand. “Let’s go find…”

“Her bed?”

“Absolutely, beauty. Let’s go find the place where she slept.”

If there was one thing that could get her mind off the sudden tangle of emotions she felt at the very thought of losing Raine, it was finding that one last, mystical spot.

So they spent the rest of the day exploring the castle, looking for Sleeping Beauty’s bedchamber. It proved a little more difficult than Ashlynn had hoped. The castle was enormous, with winding tunnels—some blocked with debris—staircases that rose into chamber after chamber, hidden rooms behind what had once been secret doors. Eventually, once Raine was convinced the place was sound enough that she wouldn’t fall through a floor and break her neck, they split up so they could cover more ground. That left her alone with her thoughts—which welled up to taunt her with what-ifs again.

It also meant she was alone when she found the chamber.

It was not, as legends said, in the topmost tower. Instead, the beauty’s room appeared to be a regular one at the end of a corridor on the third floor. Nothing to mark it on the outside, and it wasn’t terribly large.

But she’d found the right one. She knew it.

Because, as soon as she entered, she saw the way the room caught the afternoon light, which poured in from window openings overlooking the cliffs and the blue sea far, far below. The room glowed gold, and standing directly in a strong sunbeam was a huge, raised bed, draped with pink satin. Soft, shimmery bed curtains shielded some of it from view. Ashlynn found herself tiptoeing toward it, almost afraid of making a sound lest she awaken the ghost of the lady who’d been trapped in this room for so very long.

“Here you slept,” she whispered when she reached the bed and saw the huge headboard, into which had been carved a few words, in an ancient language.
In sleep, her beauty never fades.

Tears pricked her eyelids, and she had to close them for a moment, completely overwhelmed. This was the culmination of her life’s work—and her father’s. It was also, however, the legend of her dreams, the fairy tale of her childhood. The story to end all stories, in all the worlds.

And it had happened here. Right here.

It was almost too much to take in. She simply had to stand there, in silence, absorbing the moment.

She did so, for what seemed like a long time, then Ashlynn became aware of a strange sensation. The room held a strong, almost magnetic aura. She hadn’t noticed it at first, being too excited, but now felt as though she were being held in place by irresistible forces.

She reached out her hand, feeling almost compelled to brush it against the ancient covering on the bed. To her surprise, she found it fresh and soft. No dust arose from the satin—which should have been rotten and nearly gone after all these years. But it wasn’t. It appeared entirely intact.

Enchanted.

The room had to have been enchanted by whatever good sorceress had helped the king and queen remain with their daughter throughout her long sleep. This bed had been made to last for years—centuries—staying as fresh and soft as the girl who’d slept on it.

She suspected it was the enchantment that pulled her now. At least, something did. Something made her lift her leg, slide a knee onto the bed—
soft, downy.
Even though the pragmatic historian’s voice in her head screamed at her to not even consider doing such a thing, she was unable to resist climbing up onto the mattress, sure she’d never felt a more beautifully comforting fabric against her bare calves.

“Just for a moment,” she told herself. “Just once.” Then she’d go back to being the cold, analytical researcher. But for just this one second in time, she’d let the remnants of magic take her.

She lay down upon the bed, though she didn’t rest her head on the pillow, having enough presence of mind to hope she might find a strand of golden hair on it later. Lacing her hands together over her waist, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the past. To picture this young girl being awakened by the kiss of a handsome man she’d never met.

The fantasy seemed so real. She could almost hear his footsteps crossing the stone floor, feel the weight of his body as he knelt on the bed beside her.

Then he kissed her. Warm, soft lips pressed against her own. They felt real.
Very
real.

Because they were.

She froze for a second before realizing Raine must have found her, must have been drawn by the magic and had joined in her impromptu reenactment. Smiling, she reached up to wrap her arms around him and slowly opened her eyes.

To see the face of a complete stranger.

“Oh, my God!” she shrieked, pushing him away. She rolled out from under him, crossing the bed and leaping off the other side. Shaking, she stared in shock at the handsome, elegantly dressed man who watched her, his eyes gleaming, his sensuous mouth curved in a smile. “Who are you?”

“I’ve come to rescue you, my beauty,” he said with a courtly bow.

She gawked at him. “I don’t need to be rescued.”

“But my kiss awakened you…”

“No, I assure you, I was wide awake.”

He shook his head and tsked, getting off the bed and coming around toward her. “But only because my kiss broke the spell.”

“There was no spell,” she snapped. “I’m not a sleeping beauty.”

“Oh, but you are a beauty.” Another step, slow and deliberate, as though he was stalking her.

“I’m
not
interested.”

“Your kiss says otherwise.”

When he got to within a foot, she threw a hand up, palm out, to stop him. “No means no, mister.”

“Prince Philip of the Dry Lands,” he clarified.

Her mouth dropped. Prince Philip? The most eligible bachelor from the southern kingdoms? The one princesses competed for at some ridiculous annual tournament, trying to catch his eye by virtue of their great dancing, singing and harp playing? The one who had run through a string of willing women almost since he was old enough to hold a scepter?

This encounter had just gone from bizarre straight into crazy.

“Let go of me, you bastard! Ashlynn!” a voice yelled.

“Raine!” She turned to dash toward the door, knowing he was in trouble. This conceited prince, who’d apparently read too many stories and decided to act one out, must have brought some hired help. She suddenly had a thought about who that help might be.

Oh, please, don’t let it be the Tweedles.

She didn’t make it two steps before the prince stopped her, grabbing her arm. “Wait, don’t you understand? You’re my destiny, my princess, my bride.”

“No, I’m not,” she insisted through gritted teeth as she tried to yank away. “I’m not a princess, I’m a researcher. I just got here a couple of hours ago.”

“I know that,” he said, smiling as if she were a child and patting her hand. “But it doesn’t matter. I knew this magical place would show me my destiny. Entering this chamber, seeing you on that bed, bathed in sunlight, well, I just knew. You were meant for me. We’ll be married at once.”

“Look,” she said, her desperation growing, “I’m just not that into you.”

“But…but…every girl wants to marry me!”

“Dude, get over yourself,” she said, slipping into Earthese, which seemed appropriate at the moment. “You are not all that and a bag of chips. Now let me go before I show you how unladylike I can be!”

He gaped, shocked into letting her go. Ashlynn leaped toward the door, but before she could exit, two moving mountains came in. Her worst fears were confirmed—these were the men who’d been after her in the village. Worse, they were dragging a furiously struggling Raine behind them, and the third goon brought up the rear to block any attempt at escape.

“Ash…”

“Let him go,” she demanded, reaching for the closest Hunter and trying to pull his arm away. It was like trying to move a tree trunk.

“Release him,” the prince said, his voice still a little strained, as if he hadn’t quite gotten over being rejected.

The men glared, but did as they were ordered, letting Raine go. Ashlynn threw herself into his arms, hugging him close to make sure he was okay. He held her tight for a second, then pushed her behind him, shielding her with his big, strong body.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

One of the Hunters moved to strike him, but the prince waved an imperious hand. “I am Prince Philip. And what I want…” He cast a glance between Raine and Ashlynn, who continued to cling to the man she’d fallen so madly in love with. The prince shook his head, as if both disappointed and disbelieving. “Well, what I want appears to have already been taken. Am I to assume you have already claimed the beauty?”

“You’re damn right I have,” Raine said, his chest and arms tightening, the muscles flexing beneath his sweat-slickened skin. The way he said it—as if daring the prince to even think about making a move toward Ashlynn—sent a little shiver through her. Both of happiness—because he spoke like a man who had no intention of letting her go, ever—and of concern. Because it wasn’t a prince Raine would have to fight…it was his hired goons.

“Pity.”

“Yeah, it would have been more of a pity if I hadn’t been there to keep those thugs of yours from getting their hands on her!”

The prince frowned, eyeing his men. The trio wouldn’t meet his eye, all looking toward the floor. “They were merely supposed to follow her, discreetly.”