Page 74 of Royal Games (The Royals of Monterra)

A loud knock on the door made us both jump. “Stay there,” he told me. For once, I didn’t argue.

He threw the door open, the knife behind his back. If he had to stab someone ... that made my stomach turn. I couldn’t let him do that. Even for me.

A distinctive and unforgettable voice said, “Hey there, Prince Rafael. I wasnotexpecting to find you here. Is Genesis home?”

Rafe stepped back to show me Taylor Hodges standing on my front porch. Maybe I should rethink my no stabbing policy.

She came in without being invited, dropping her coat on the couch. “Is it okay if my crew comes in with me?”

“It is not okay. It’s not okay for you to come in, either.” She was the cause of so much pain. Not only for me and Rafe, but for Lemon and Dante as well.

But she sat down in a chair like I hadn’t even spoken. “Is something wrong with your electricity? Do your lights not work?”

Rafe flicked them back on, asking me with his eyes if I was okay. I nodded as he closed the front door and pulled the curtains shut, preventing the crew from getting any footage.

“You haven’t been answering my texts or phone calls,” she said, her finger wagging at me.

I folded my arms. “That’s because I don’t want to talk to you. Or see you. Or have anything to do with you.”

She laughed, leaning over. I backed up. “Come on now, we’re friends. And I’m here with an opportunity for you! I know you need money. The producers have decided that you would be a perfect fit forEnchanted Eden.”

Enchanted Edenwas the sister show toMarry Me. Losing contestants were invited to some exotic location with other contestants from other seasons in hopes that they would fall in love. They had a few success stories, but I was not even a little bit interested. I would never go on reality television ever again.

“No thanks. And if that’s it, good night.” I opened the door. Laddie came into the room, eyed Taylor, yawned, and left. Even my dog, who loved everybody, could see through her BS.

She didn’t move other than to point her left shoulder toward us. “So, what’s the deets here? Are the two of you back together? Is there something we should know? All of America is rooting for you to reunite!”

I heard a car driving over snow. The security team. They could pick her up and carry her out. She couldn’t have weighed very much. Evil made you skinny, apparently.

“Are you filming this?” Rafe asked.

She paused. “Always.”

At that, Rafe went out to the porch. “These people are all trespassing on private property and have taken photographs without permission.” He turned back to Taylor. “Any agreements that we signed with you have long since lapsed.”

His men sprang into action, confiscating the cameras and deleting whatever footage they had. The cameramen protested, but not one of them resisted. Marco came inside and demanded the spy camera that Taylor had pinned on the left side of her chest by hiding it in a brooch. She slapped it into his hand, glaring at us. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to have bodyguards around, after all.

“If you persist in bothering Ms.Kelley and His Royal Highness,” Marco said, “we will file legal documents and generally make your life miserable.”

Taylor shoved her arms back into her coat, muttering under her breath about ungrateful and unappreciative people as she went. Rafe offered me his arm. “Off to your celebration?”

I put my hand on his arm. As we drove off, I saw Taylor and her crew being herded into their car. I enjoyed it far more than I should have. I even waved to her.

My earlier freak-out had been over nothing. No John-Paul. No cult members. Just a sociopathic field producer and her scummy camera guys.

I pulled down the visor and opened the mirror to practice my surprised face. I got a real one when the SUV hit black ice. The back of the car started to fishtail, but Rafe quickly corrected and straightened us back out. It happened so fast I barely had time to be scared. “That was impressive.”

He waggled his fingers at me. “It’s all the gaming. I have catlike reflexes and excellent manual dexterity.”

I knew just how dexterous he could be, which made heat color my cheeks.

“That’s not always true,” he added. “I might have clipped a deer two days ago. I got out and looked, but I couldn’t find one.”

Glad that he didn’t see and correctly interpret my reaction to thoughts of what he could do with his hands, I cleared my throat. “Everybody I know here has clipped a deer. More than once. And depending on how they get hit, they can run off.”

We pulled into the diner parking lot. “We’re here,” he said. “Show me your face again.”

I tried for my best I-had-no-idea!

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