by Gwen Hayes
A little out of place, Princess.
She patted her updo and pretended she meant to still be sitting in the driver’s lap. In a ball gown. Heels. And tiara. Because her leg was stuck now, and she would require a hand getting up.
“Are you on the right bus, ma’am?” asked a man in a red t-shirt that said STAFF.
She peeked at the driver. The woman was not amused.
“You’re going to Firefly Falls, yes?” she asked the man. He offered her a hand but she couldn’t get the leverage she needed. “You’re going to have to yank.”
He planted his foot earnestly. The passengers began a count, “One…two…three”
On three, he pulled and she flew into him, knocking him into the front row seat.
Everyone cheered. Someone handed her a red cup full of beer.
She smiled her thanks, adjusted her tiara, and chugged it down, earning a round of applause and more hoots and hollers. Going to an all-girl finishing school had been good for something after all, because nobody drinks like bored debs in boarding school.
The staff member looked at his clipboard. “You must be Maryanne Marsh. We thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“Something came up,” she said and smoothed down her dress.
“Where’s your gear?” he asked.
“My gear?”
“Your…other clothes? Bathing suit?” He looked at her expectantly, but when she didn’t offer a solution, he said, “You’re going to a week-long summer camp with no luggage at all?”
“Something came up,” she reminded him without offering more. There were no children on the bus, so this summer camp must be for adults. That sounded…fun.
A woman in the front seat stood up. “I’ve got stuff you can borrow, Maryanne.”
Another woman nodded. “Me too. I always overpack.”
“They have a general store in Briarsted, maybe we can get you a few things there,” a different woman said.
The man consulted his clipboard again. “Okay, Maryanne. You’re checked in then.” He handed her a packet of information. “My name is Todd. Welcome to the best summer vacation you’ve ever had. Camp Firefly Falls is about three hours from here, but the party starts now.”
The noise picked up again, and she picked the seat next to the woman across from Todd.
As the bus pulled away, her new friend, a very pretty blonde with kind eyes introduced herself as Lucy. “So, the dress.”
Merriam smoothed over it, knowing she meant the comment as a segue to explain. “It’s…I’m an actress.”
Was that going to be enough? Judging from Lucy’s face, no.
“Taping ran late, so I had to stay in costume to get here. Almost didn’t make it.” She did an exaggerated wipe of her brow. “Whew, right?”
“What role were you playing?”
The same role she’d been playing her entire life.
“I was a princess all day. Now I just get to be me.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE WALLS WERE CLOSING IN on Harmon. He needed to be out there searching. Finding, goddamnit. Not safely tucked away in an extravagantly opulent hotel suite while she was out there alone.
“Where is she, Your Highness? And don’t tell me you don’t know. I saw the two of you talking.”
Prince Matthew feigned shock. “Am I not allowed to talk to my sister? It was a party after all.”
Harmon resisted the urge to put the prince in a headlock. Something he hadn’t done since they were about twelve. “I know when she is up to something.” He always knew. Of course, it was rare that she wasn’t, so whether it was coincidence or intuition, Harmon was always right. “This isn’t a game.”
He never wished for her to be playing one of her games more than he did right now. She had to be safe. She just had to.
Matthew stared at the drink in his hand. “I’m sure she’s fine. She just needed a break. I was going to try and break her out tomorrow, but she must have figured out a better way on her own.”
The hair on the back on Harmon’s neck reached for his collar. Something was wrong. “You didn’t arrange the alarm?”
Matthew shook his head. “She probably pulled the damn thing herself. She’s none too pleased with you right now.”
The feeling was mutual.
Harmon didn’t understand Merriam’s aversion to safety. He’d devoted his entire life, every waking moment and many of his sleeping ones, to keeping her alive. Keeping her well, whole, and healthy. Her entire family, as a matter of fact. Yet she was the one who vexed him whenever possible.
The truth of the matter was he would do anything, sacrifice anything, for Princess Merriam. And he would do it gladly.
Harmon scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Matthew, we’ve had threats. None have been credible so far, but just because the information hasn’t been corroborated yet doesn’t mean it won’t be eventually. This trip was a mistake.” He pulled apart the buttons on his jacket. His dress uniform was worthless for actual work. “She left her cell and identification in the suite. She’s wearing crown jewels worth God knows how much. And she’s alone on the streets of New York in a ball gown. You have to tell me where she is.”
Matthew blanched, the situation finally penetrating his thick head. “I honestly don’t know. I had intended to make sure we stayed in contact, but this wasn’t part of my plan because we don’t have one yet. I swear to you.”
To his team, Harmon spoke into the mic, “I want the security cam footage now.” They’d been working to gather whatever video they could from the cams on the street. “Double the detail in the hotel. I’m taking lead on the princess.”
Ten minutes later, in the control room, he was watching footage of the princess boarding a bus for a summer camp in the Berkshires and separate footage of a man pulling the fire alarm in the hotel ten minutes earlier. His face was familiar—one Harmon had seen a lot lately in communiqués regarding a nonspecific threat to the royals.
His blood chilled.
Not on my watch.
He closed his eyes, remembering the day his father failed to protect the queen. The day his father perished in the same explosion. The day Harmon stopped being Harmon and became the Duke of Carlysle.
The honor of his family and the lineage of the dukedom rested on his shoulders now. A heavy mantle he’d hoped secretly he’d never have to bear.
Now he understood, as generations of Carlysles before him had learned, the price of duty. His father wouldn’t have wanted to live after losing the queen. Not just because of the dishonor, but the soul deep wrongness would have killed him inside. The need to protect the royals was the sinew that connected Carlysle muscle to bone.
Matthew and Merriam’s mother, the queen, was only the second royal to die from an unnatural cause. There would not be a third.
Not on my watch.
He directed his team to work with local law enforcement to find the man identified as one Phillip Stone. Harmon kept the knowledge of the tape of her getting on the bus to only his closest officers. She might be safer there, at this camp. As long as no one else knew she’d gotten on that bus.
Back in his room, he began packing. It didn’t take long as he always had a rucksack ready to go. Matthew entered as Harmon checked his weapon. “Any word on—I haven’t seen you wear denim in ten years. Have you resigned?”
No, Harmon hadn’t worn blue jeans in a long time, but he was going undercover. “I’m going to summer camp.”
“You’re going camping?”
“Not exactly.” Harmon brought up the camp’s website on his laptop. “We think your sister boarded the bus headed for Lake Waawaatesi.”
“So, you’re going to retrieve her.”
“I don’t think so.”
Matthew sighed. “Harmon, stop being Carlysle for one minute and be my friend. I don’t need you to be cryptic. What is going on?”
Harmon palmed Matthew’s shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “The best way for me to be your friend is to nev
er for one minute forget that I am Carlysle.”
Matthew exhaled loudly, but nodded his agreement. They both knew the commander of the guard was of more use in this situation than his boarding school chum. Harmon’s training had prepared him for a lot of things, but it hadn’t covered how to handle his emotions or those of Matthew and the king right now. So, as he’d learned long ago, it was better to put the emotions in a box in his mind and focus on what he knew.
Harmon zipped his rucksack. “Nobody would suspect your sister is at a summer camp in the Berkshires. If she hasn’t told anyone who she is, we’ll stay there until Stone is brought in.”
“We?”
“I’ll be undercover as a camper as well. I will be her primary protection.” Though he’d have several men on perimeter and in the small town of Briarsted. But until he knew for certain, he didn’t want to break cover or bring attention to his men.
Matthew clicked through the tabs on the top of the screen. “You understand the theme for the week?” Matthew pointed to the laptop. “It’s Singles Week. The place will be crawling with men trying to score with my sister.”
Harmon didn’t like the way his jaw clenched at the thought. “Nobody will get near your sister.”
That he could promise.
“How are you planning on staying undercover at a matchmaking week? It’s going to be worse than the Carnival in Rio there. You can’t just hide her in a cabin and ignore the meat market.”
Meat market. Hell.
“I guess Merriam is getting a new boyfriend for the week.” He slung the bag over his shoulder. “Me.”
CHAPTER THREE
Welcome to Camp Firefly Falls
Are you ready for the time of your life?
From the Activities Coordinator:
Established in 1971, Camp Firefly Falls was a popular family retreat until the late ‘90s, eventually closing in 2000. It was purchased three years ago by the Tullys, who renovated the ghost camp into a getaway for adult campers seeking to escape the mundane and retreat to a simpler time—only this time the liquor runs freely at your new favorite all-inclusive resort.
Your cabins have bathrooms and maid service every day. Water toys, canoes, sports equipment, kayaks, and beach towels can be checked out at the boathouse and are included in your stay. If you should need any amenities, please visit the lodge and we’ll try to accommodate you.
Please read and abide by all rules and regulations included in your packet. (There are not that many and they are there for your safety.)
First Day Schedule
10:00-6:00 Registration
10:00-6:00 Tours every half hour. Meet at the tennis courts located on your map.
5:00 Cocktail reception in the boathouse
6:00-7:30 Dinner
9:00-2:00 a.m. Mixer in the boathouse
9:00-2:00 a.m. Campfire
10:00-? Seven Minutes in Heaven at the gazebo
There must have been a million white lights dotting the boathouse where the first singles’ mixer was taking place. It was early yet, but Harmon’s sources told him it got racier as the night drew long and often went on to dawn. But right now, people were still shy, still sober.
Each week, Camp Firefly Falls had a different session with a different theme. It was too much to ask that Merriam jumped the bus to a less hedonistic session. Like Bookworm Week. Or Science Camp. No…she threw herself into the one dedicated to hooking up. It was marketed as a place to meet other singles and form “lasting relationships,” but it was clearly an excuse to party and have sex.
And when had he become such a stick in the mud about that kind of thing?
It was Merriam. He wouldn’t have the same problem if Matthew were here instead of her. And not just because he was being a sexist jerk—though he was aware he was. No, also because it was Merriam.
He didn’t want to examine that right now.
As he’d been trained to even as a young boy, he mapped the room in his head. It was ingrained in him now to always do so: ten tables, small dance floor, disco light, fourteen women, mostly in mid-twenties, twelve men, similarly aged. Two bartenders. A keg. Buckets of ice with beer and sodas.
He accepted a red cup of…something… and moved into the room, counting possible exits as he went. He felt the weight of female attention as he moved. He was being cataloged, he understood. He was prideful enough to know women found him attractive. It came in handy. But he only had eyes for one woman tonight, this week.
Princess Merriam wasn’t hard to find.
Harmon didn’t think he could ever be in a room with her and have her go unnoticed. Not know exactly where she was. He let himself enjoy the few moments he had before she realized he was there, watching her. And she would, because she had the same awareness of him. She always had.
Likely so she could plot the next way to make his life harder.
Merriam looked at ease. She wasn’t there against her will, though he still stayed aware. He didn’t know the circumstances that got her on that bus, only that she ran onto it in a gown and heels. There was no one chasing her on the film, but he couldn’t assume anything.
She’d ditched the gown and now wore a white sundress too short to be approved by her aunt. Her hair cascaded across one shoulder, unbound, the wild mahogany curls as untamed as she was. She didn’t wear it down in public in Sivartania. Not since her Aunt Elaine had taken over her tutelage.
But in the palace, those curls haunted him, always looking so soft and free, like Merriam herself. In the palace, he got to see the woman behind the princess, the woman not many people knew. Part of him felt betrayed that other people now got to see her in a way he felt was his small right.
She laughed. Christ, her laugh collided into his hollowed heart with stunning force. He couldn’t even hear it from where he was standing, but he knew the sound, the husky quality that could pull like strings inside the needy, aching cavern inside him.
She was drinking from a bottle and casually kept her hand over the top the way he’d taught her in order to avoid someone being able to tamper with her beverage. That was something at least.
She was flanked on both sides by women, but the men in the room were still assessing the situation. It wouldn’t be long before they started moving in, separating the women from each other. Dating wasn’t complicated at this stage. That would come later.
He wanted to warn every man in the room away from her. For her safety, of course. And his sanity.
Nothing else. There would be nothing else between them.
He moved deeper into the room, his focus solely on his principal. His life would have been infinitely easier if she weren’t so damned pretty.
Her shoulders stiffened. She knew he was there. She felt him. She always felt him. She turned slowly, the white lights attaching to her like she was iridescent. A pearl. Her eyes searched the room until she found his.
There was awareness there, just for a second, and like always, it hit him like a gut-punch. She was the one woman he could never have and the one that fascinated him like no other.
She shook her head a little. Asking him to not to approach, but that he could not do. She didn’t want him here. That was too bad.
He stopped just short of her, forcing her gaze up. It was a dick move, because it shifted the power balance to him. He knew it flustered her when she had to look up at him. But as a princess, she was used to others bowing to her, and it was imperative that he always keep the upper hand with her.
But he wasn’t sure he had the upper hand right now. He wasn’t supposed to feel himself falling when he looked into her eyes. His mouth went dry and he reached for a distant memory of what to say to a woman in a club. “Hello.”
Jesus. He used to be pretty good at this.
“Hello?” she answered, a frown of confusion wrinkling her forehead. She lowered her gaze to his throat concentrating on his Adam’s apple. “Please don’t make a sce—”
“My name is Harmon. Harmon Maxwell. Can I get you another dr
ink?” He sounded like a boy fresh out of prep school. What was wrong with him?
She said nothing, the crease in her forehead becoming more pronounced. The woman next to her, as blonde as Merriam was dark, nudged her. When that didn’t work, she gave an exasperated sigh and told him, “This is Maryanne. I’m Lucy.”
So, she had a cover story already. Maryanne.
“She’s an actress.” When Merriam just scrunched her face adorably, her friend filled the silence again. “What do you do, Harmon?”
“I do security work.”
Merriam shook her head clear. “I…um…my drink is almost empty.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” He set down the cup he’d been given and gestured to a table. “Join me?”
She set her jaw, practically stamped her foot. But her new friend gave her a little push. He put out his hands to keep her steady. The blonde whispered loud enough for him to hear. “Go already! He’s hot.”
Merriam looked over her shoulder at her friend, incredulous perhaps that another woman found him attractive. Then she faced him head on.
He smiled and she scowled.
It had been a long time since he’d picked up a woman in a bar. Ten years ago, this scene had been much easier for him. Women liked him. They used to anyway. At least her friend thought he was hot. Merriam was looking at him like he had two heads.
He grabbed two bottles out of an ice bucket and led her to a small table. “Smile, Merriam.” She needed to act natural or this would never work. He opened her bottle and handed it to her. “Are you here of your own free will. Are you safe?”
She smiled—the princess one that cooled his blood, not the impish one than ignited it. The cool princess, as he knew all too well, was a lie. While the impish one challenged him too often, he preferred her true colors. At least then he knew what he was dealing with. Not that it helped all that much.
“Merriam,” he reminded in a low voice.