No office there then. I turned left out of the bedroom and peeked into the library on the right. It was empty except for Shakespeare snoozing on therecliner.
The next room was another bathroom. On the right, a spare bedroom. One more on the right was a nursery. That door I shut quickly. I had no desires to get allemotional.
“Not today, Satan,” Iwhispered.
The last door on the left was locked. “Son of a bitch.” I stared and wondered if it was too well made to try to butt-bump it open. I shrugged to myself. In for a penny, in for apound.
I leaned my back against it and pulled my hips forward, then slammed them back as hard as I could, and proceeded to fall on my ass when it sprangopen.
I scrambled up and shut the door in case they looked down the hallway and noticed itopen.
The office was opulent. Every piece of furniture was made out of an ebony wood. The room probably cost more than my parents’ entire house. I walked slowly around the massive desk in the middle and sat in the leather chair. As I contemplated how far I wanted to take the snooping, the door burst open. Griffin stormed into the office, face like athundercloud.
Damn.Busted.
“Hey, Griffin, what’s up?” I asked in a tiny voice. I’d hoped they were in review mode looking for Hunter and wouldn’t seeme.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” heyelled.
I jumped up from the chair. “I was curious. What aren’t you telling me?” Who did I thinkIwas? Who the hell washe?
“Why do you think it’s any of your business?” heasked.
“If I’m staying in your home, I feel like I have a right to know if I’m staying with themafia.”
“We aren’t the damn mafia.” Griffin was yellingagain.
Ellion made it into the room in time to hear my accusation. “Linda, come on. Do we seem like crime lords toyou?”
My face softened as I looked at his beautiful face. His features were almost dainty yet retained a masculinefeel.
“No, you don’t seem like crime lords—not that I’d know what crime lords are supposed to be like,” I replied. “But you’re hiding something big, and I guess I’m acting like a spoiled brat, and I’m sorry for that, but I demand to know what it is.” I was about thirty seconds from stomping my feet and holding my breath. “I shot at someone foryou.”
Griffin scoffed. “You shot at someone because he would’ve shot at youfirst.”
“You don’t know that. He could’ve killed me a hundred times over when he had me tied up in the SUV but hedidn’t.”
“Whatever you think of us, we aren’t bad people. We don’t do bad things,” Ellion said, then sat in a high-back chair across from the desk to glare atGriffin.
Griffin plunked unceremoniously down beside Ellion. “Fine. Fine!” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m aprince.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” What, did he think I was the most gullible personalive?
“I’m serious,” hesaid.
Ellion nodded. “He is. Well, he was. Some people still say heis.”
My head swung back and forth between the two of them. “If you’re a prince, why are you in the United States? In Alaska? A prince of what? Thieves?” I chuckled internally at mywit.
“I married Princess Amandine Grace of Grenève. She was the heir to the Grenèvianthrone.”
“You don’t have an accent,” I said. Heir to the Grenèvian throne? Holy hell, I really had stumbled into amess.
“I’m an American,” he replied. “Born and raised in Nashville. That part wastrue.”
“What else was true?” I asked, sitting back in the deskchair.
His face was sincere, he was telling the truth. The anguish in his eyes was a compelling argument for me to believehim.
