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They were only a few steps from the main-level entry. She glanced at him. The lure of those dark-brown eyes made him forget the seriousness of the subject.
And she tripped on something and flew forward.
Ray leaped off the last step, caught her, and hauled her in close. Their ragged breathing was the only sound for a few beats. He closed his eyes as her arms wrapped around his lower back. She settled in against his chest, and he rested his cheek against the silky softness of her hair. His breathing didn’t slow, and his pulse was racing like mad. Holding her was thrilling and comforting at the same time. He felt it almost as strongly as when he’d kissed her—this woman was meant to be in his arms.
She slowly lifted her head and met his gaze. His stomach pitched like he’d just jumped off the cliffs at the waterfall.
He was in so much trouble.
Off limits. Off limits. She belongs to T. Don’t kiss her again.
Why, then, was he bowing his head toward hers?
A door opened and closed down the hall. Ray jerked away from her, and she reached out for the banister to steady herself. He forced a smile he didn’t feel, listening as footsteps went the other direction. The castle was at about ten percent of their normal staff since Mum died and they had stopped entertaining and allowing tours or dignitaries in.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her voice was shaky. “I’m not used to these blasted high heels.”
His smile became genuine. “What do you usually wear?”
“Baggy T-shirts, tights, and running shoes.”
He’d only meant her choice for shoes, but the image of her in a comfortable T-shirt slipping off her shoulder and tights that showcased her beautiful shape made his palms clammy. “You look fabulous, but I imagine you’d look fabulous in anything.”
He could’ve shot himself as soon as the words were out. He couldn’t be flirting with her. How was he going to stop these feelings before they became a problem?
“Thank you,” she said sweetly, her long eyelashes fluttering at him.
These feelings were already a problem. Should he say something, clear the air, apologize for kissing her and promise to be professional, before they walked into a meeting with her boss, his dad, and his brother—her fiancé?
“We’d better …” He tilted his head toward the hall, wimping out.
“Yeah.”
She hurried down the hall, and Ray prayed for strength as he caught up to her. He had to get himself under control. Control had never been a problem for him … until Macey Clifton almost fell off the balcony ledge. What man could resist those lips? He glanced at her lips and knew that man wasn’t him, though it needed to be.
Ray opened the door and escorted her into the formal sitting room they were meeting in. He watched far too closely as she curtsied when she met T. Of course T waved that off and took her hand in both of his. His charming brother thanked her for coming and ‘pretending to be in love with him.’ She laughed—everybody did—and it was all cordial and fine and his stomach was twisting with jealousy. T had hundreds of women lining up to date him. Why did the one woman meant for Ray have to be engaged to his twin?
T glanced his direction and lifted an eyebrow, questioning what was wrong. Ray shook his head slightly. This was the one time he would not share everything with his twin. T didn’t need any more stress. The threats to his life and the unsolved murder of their mum were heavy enough for the two of them. Add to that the fact that the only woman T had ever fallen deeply for had disappeared the night of Mum’s death. T had more than enough stress in his life.
Macey didn’t look at Ray at all, which was probably for the best. But why wouldn’t she look at him?
When T put his hand on her lower back to escort her to a chair, Ray’s right hand clenched into a fist. He’d knocked his brother down plenty of times over the years, but he couldn’t remember ever throwing a punch in a fit of jealous rage.
Please help me, he begged heaven above. He needed to focus on keeping his brother safe, not pummeling him for touching Macey.
He had absolutely no idea how he would stand by and watch them be engaged. If his brother kissed her … his stomach turned over. He’d level the brother he’d sworn allegiance to. Nobody could blame him for that—except himself.
Chapter Three
Macey tried to keep her gaze from wandering to Raymond … Ray. She liked his name. She liked him. She should be horrified that she’d kissed him—the wrong brother—but she couldn’t believe how incredible being in his arms and especially kissing him had felt. For her, Ray seemed to be the right brother. Tristan was friendly, warm, princely, but there was no arcing connection between them, and he instantly treated her as a friend and revered work associate—definitely not a love interest.
She focused on the briefing meeting.
Somebody wanted them to believe in a centuries-old curse. Throughout the seventeen hundreds, any woman who married into the royal family had eventually drowned herself in the lake. Never in the wintertime, though. Macey agreed it was too convenient that this curse could easily be a murder every time. Until the current time period, it would be impossible to prove the women hadn’t drowned themselves because of the ‘suicide curse.’ Ray had been adamant his mom hadn’t killed herself and couldn’t have gotten through the thick ice.
Ray was a bit thicker through the chest than Tristan. That chest had felt incredible against her own.
