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“There, that should do it,” he said as he slowly came up from the floor. Lexie was presented with his bare chest inches from her face. Abs you could count, pecs like steel, and very little hair until the line that disappeared down into the towel.

She just stood there staring.

He put the broken glass in the trash bin, then turned and smiled at her. “Shall I make breakfast for you before you go?”

All Lexie could do was nod and he left the room, his long legs striding out.

It took her a moment to recover. It wasn’t every day of your life that you broke a glass and a nearly naked man of mythical beauty appeared out of nowhere and rescued you.

Turning, she saw herself in the mirror, toothpaste foam on her lips, her hair a disheveled mess, and wearing an old T-shirt that she’d stolen from Jared. Yet he’d looked at her like she was a princess in a satin gown.

“Toby,” she said into the mirror, “you are in way, way over your head.”

“Good morning,” Lexie said as she entered the kitchen. He was standing by the stove and it had three pans on it, each one sizzling, and the smell was divine.

“Tavar nuway,” he said. “That’s ‘good morning’ in Lanconian.”

“I knew that,” she said, joking, as she stepped farther into the room. She was very aware that this man would someday be a king. And she was even more aware of her vision of him in a teeny tiny towel.

Graydon smiled. “Somehow, I doubt that. Few people can even find my country on a map, but I understand. We’re buried in the mountains and overshadowed by some major world powers.” He glanced at the stove. “I didn’t know what you like to eat, so I have eggs, bacon, and griddle cakes.”

“I like anything I don’t have to cook,” Lexie said, still staring at him. He was wearing dark blue trousers that looked like they came from a hand-tailoring shop in London and a tan shirt that had initials on the cuff: RM. “Where did you learn to cook?”

He piled a plate high and motioned her through the kitchen. There was a little sunporch on the back of the house. It was a pretty room—or would be if she and Toby didn’t use it for storage. But this man had cleared a place in the corner by the kitchen, removed all the bags and boxes off the table, and set it with the good china they kept in the top cabinets.

“When did you do all this?” she asked in astonishment.

“I don’t sleep much, so I came down early. This is a nice room.”

“It is,” Lexie said. “But Toby and I each have two jobs so we tend to dump things in here.”

“What are your second jobs?”

“That,” she said, nodding out the window to the greenhouse and the raised beds. She looked at the single plate he’d put on the table. “You aren’t eating? Or maybe you want to wait for Toby.”

“I would be pleased to join you,” he said and went to the kitchen to fill a plate. He sat down across from her. “I apologize for this morning. I heard the glass breaking followed by your exclamation. I feared there would be cut arteries.”

“No, just feet in danger. Thank you for rescuing me.”

“My pleasure,” he said.

“I think I’m the one with the pleasure,” she said with her eyebrows raised.

He glanced at her across the table and his eyes were so warm that Lexie felt like fanning herself. But she didn’t. Instead, she frowned. “I don’t know what you have in mind with Toby, but I’d better warn you that she isn’t one to fool around with some man just to have a good time.”

Graydon’s face changed in an instant. He went from hot to an expression so remote, so reserved, that Lexie began to doubt what she’d seen. “Miss Wyndam has been nothing but a friend to me and it will stay that way. I’m here for a short time, then I must return to my own country and resume my responsibilities. I would never be so crass as to cause problems for the young woman who has been so helpful to me.”

As Lexie chewed, she thought about what he’d said in his very formal manner. “You hurt Toby and I’ll tell the newspapers.”

“Fair enough,” he said, and between them passed an understanding. “Would you like more eggs?”

“No, thanks. All this t

astes great. So where did you learn to cook?”

“In the Lanconian Royal Guard. It’s our army, navy, and air force combined—not that we have many ships or planes. But I served for three years, and my loyal subjects thought it was a great joke to give me the lowliest jobs and the hardest training.”

“To see what you’re made of?”


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