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  “If you forgot about the books, you probably forgot about this too,” Vanja said, coming up behind her and laying a hand on the bookshelf. She tapped the spine of one ancient book—Alice in Wonderland, K saw—and then tilted the book ever so slightly outward.

  To K’s amazement, a narrow section of the bookshelf slid out, revealing a dark, cobwebby space behind it.

  “The secret passage!” she exclaimed as yet another memory clicked into place.

  “That’s right.” Vanja smiled. “You used to play in it when you were little. You just loved popping out of the woodwork and scaring the life out of me.”

  K poked her head into the narrow space and pulled back, frowning. “I remember it being a lot bigger than that. It used to seem like such a vast black tunnel.”

  “Well, you’ve grown considerably since you last played in the secret passage, my love.” Vanja smiled a bit sadly. “It might be a bit of a tight squeeze now.”

  “I’ll manage,” K said grimly. “I have to.”

  “Do you remember the way to the West Wing?” her old nurse asked. “That’s where they put your giant—in the blue room, I think.”

  K closed her eyes for a moment, reaching for the information…and it was there, like a map in her head.

  “I remember,” she said, nodding.

  “Then go,” Vanja said. “But please, my dear princess, be quiet and be careful. I love your royal mother with everything that’s in me but I must say she has a temper on her. If she finds out you’ve defied her orders to keep away from that giant of yours, she’s going to be very, very upset.”

  “She won’t find out,” K promised. At least not until it’s too late. I don’t care who she is, if she thinks she can keep me here against my will she’s sadly mistaken.

  “Go then,” Vanja said, smiling. “Enjoy one last night with the one you really want.”

  “But you’re sure—absolutely sure he’ll be safe?” K asked anxiously.

  Her old nurse nodded. “I’ve seen girls and their cycles—so many of them, dearie. You’ll be in the second phase until morning, I’m certain. Don’t worry—you won’t go into the mating rage until your eyes turn gold.”

  “Thank you, Vanja,” K said, really meaning it. She had a sudden, foreign impulse to hug the old woman—a holdover, no doubt, from her half remembered childhood—but she couldn’t quiet bring herself to do it. Instead she squeezed Vanja’s hand before ducking into the narrow passage.

  “I’ll wait a few minutes before I close it behind you,” the older woman called. “Be careful, dearie.”

  “I will be. Thank you, Vanja.”

  K took a moment to orient herself in the dark, cramped space and then began moving in the direction of the West Wing. In the direction of Boone. Already her body was crying out for his touch—for the forbidden yet soothing feel of his big hands on her bare skin.

  Boone, she thought. I’m coming. I just hope you can help me when I find you.

  Because if he couldn’t, she didn’t want to think about what she might have to do.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Boone was pacing back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back, his brow furrowed in concentration when he heard the strange noise coming from behind the ornately carved stone fireplace.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, looking in that direction. The room they had put him in was huge—even for someone his size—and opulently appointed. There was a vast sleeping platform so wide it looked like a small yacht floating in the center of the deep blue carpeting and a bookcase full of real books which appeared to all be priceless antiques. There was a wet bar in one corner with every imaginable liquor and alcohol and a fresher with a marble tub big enough to swim in. In fact, the only thing Boone didn’t see was a way out.

  Must be imagining things, he thought and kept pacing.

  He was pacing because he was worried—he could never sit still when he had something on his mind. K, he thought, Where are you? How are you handling all this?

  It had to be a shock to her—finding out she was a long lost princess with a mother and a people she was supposed to rule at some point. There were bound to be a lot of messy, uncomfortable emotions involved and K was dealing with them all on her own.

  But how well was she dealing with them?

  Boone’s main fear was that she would be tempted to put back on the suit. It had seemed like a viable option before but the more he learned about Erian physiology, the more convinced he became that interrupting the Erian mating cycle could be not just dangerous but deadly.

  “Never should have given her back the suit,” he muttered to himself. “She’ll kill herself with the damn thing if she’s not careful. Damn it, K, where are you?”

  The scratching sound came again, this time from the other side of the fireplace. Boone stopped pacing. This time he was sure he wasn’t imagining it. What the hell was going on? Had the Erians put some kind of spy cam there? Something to keep an eye on him?

  He crouched low, examining the stone. The fireplace was carved with a very lifelike image of the Erian goddess of fertility on either side—at least Boone assumed that was what she was the goddess of. She was naked, her lush form surrounded by graceful vines overflowing with plump berries and blooming flowers. If she got any more fertile she might burst, like an overripe melon too filled with sweetness to contain its nectar any longer.

  “Boone!” came a muffled whisper.

  It surprised him so much he jerked upward and knocked the top of his head against the underside of the white marble mantelpiece.

  “Shit!” he muttered, rubbing the spot.

  “Boone!” the voice said again, sounding very familiar.

  Boone’s heart leapt. “K? Is that you?”

  “I’m stuck back here,” she whispered. “The release lever is broken but I think there’s one on your side.”

  “Where at?” Boone started studying the fireplace again with more interest.

  “The goddess on the left—her breasts. Push in the right nipple.”

  Boone did as directed and the goddess on the left side of the fireplace suddenly slid to one side. Looking down, he saw K’s face peering out of a tiny, dusty crawlspace barely big enough to admit a child.

  “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously. “Can you get through there?”

  “Barely…” She wriggled, trying to squeeze out of the narrow opening. It was a tight fit, especially around her full breasts. For a moment it looked like she might be stuck. Then the silky material of the red dress Illesca had given her tore with a low ripping sound and she was through. “Ugh…” she said, standing up and brushing herself off. “That was easier when I was little. And before I had these.” She nodded down at her breasts and seemed to realize for the first time that the rip in her dress exposed them. “Oh…” She moved to cover herself but Boone was already taking her in his arms.

  “K,” he murmured, pressing his face to the side of her neck to breathe in her sweet, feminine scent. “God, I was so worried. Had no idea how I was going to get to you—and here you came to me.”

  “I had to.” She pulled back and looked at him seriously. Her eyes were glowing—the triple golden rings brilliant in the dim light of the massive, gloomy room. “I need you Boone. Need you to…to help me like you did last night.”

  Boone felt his shaft go hard at once but he wanted to be careful and take things slowly.

  “Are you sure, K?” he asked quietly. “I know this morning you had some regrets.”

  “I’m in pain again, Boone.” She bit her lip pensively. “I don’t know why I can’t just ignore it, the way I ignored injuries on the battlefield. But this is so much different. It’s all I can think about.” She looked up at him nervously. “You’re all I can think about.”

  “Been thinking about you, too, darlin’.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her gently, taking his time, feeling the way.

  K seemed frozen at first but then she responded, opening her lips to him, welcoming him i