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Midnight. The witching hour. And Mercy was bewitched. Entranced by memories of a chance meeting seven years ago. She had never admitted to another soul how those exhilarating hours haunted her, how often, when she was alone at night, the image of Judah Ansara appeared to her. She had never hated anyone the way she hated him. Or loved anyone so deeply and passionately. In all this time, she hadn’t been able to reconcile her divided feelings. Love and hate. Fear and longing. Even now, she wanted him. Knowing he was an Ansara. Knowing that he didn’t love her, had never loved her. Knowing he planned to fight her—to the death—for Eve.
If only she hadn’t insisted on that vacation alone. One week, all to herself, without Dante and Gideon, without Raintree friends guarding her, out from under Sidonia’s watchful eye. Had that been too much to ask? Aunt Gillian had thought Mercy’s request quite reasonable. As the aged guardian of the sanctuary, she’d known only too well about the great demands on Mercy’s time and talents that lay ahead for her when she became the keeper of the home place.
A great empath herself, Gillian had gifted Mercy with the ability not to sense other people’s thoughts and emotions on a deep level while on her vacation. Like many other gifts, that one had a nine-day shelf-life.
And so Mercy had gone out into the world alone, ready to experience life without the curse of being bombarded by the thoughts and emotions of everyone around her. For those nine days, she wouldn’t be a Raintree princess. She wouldn’t be a talented empath. She could enjoy being young and pretty and unguarded.
Mercy had no way of knowing that with her abilities muted, she would be unable to recognize danger when it swept her off her feet. Literally. A waiter by the pool at the resort where she was vacationing had lost his footing and plunged into a guest, who in turn set off a chain reaction, sending tables, drinks, chairs and people flying. From out of nowhere, someone had swooped Mercy up into his arms, saving her from becoming one more domino-effect casualty.
Wearing a bikini for the first time in her life, Mercy had felt naked as her flesh had pressed against the overpoweringly masculine chest belonging to the man who had rescued her. After grabbing him around the neck and clinging to him, she had gazed into his eyes—as cold and gray as a winter sky. He hadn’t set her on her feet immediately, but had held her, smiling broadly, the warmth of his big, hard body heating her inside and out.
Pressing her fingertips against her temples, Mercy closed her eyes and huffed loudly. “Get out of my head, damn you, Judah Ansara.”
She had tried to erase him from her memory, had even been tempted to use a spell to eliminate all thoughts of him. But she hadn’t dared go to such extreme lengths. Only she and Sidonia knew that Eve was half Ansara, and Sidonia alone could not have protected Eve.
Mercy tossed back the sheet and light blanket covering her, then got out of bed, opened the door and crept quietly across the hall. Eve’s door, as always, had been left open. Mercy stepped over the threshold and stood there watching her daughter sleep.
If I had never met Judah…If we hadn’t been lovers…
Eve wouldn’t exist.
She heard Judah’s voice inside her head. Eve was meant to be.
If she believed nothing else Judah had ever said, she believed that. Their daughter’s life was preordained. But for what reason?
The fact that Mercy had conceived during their one night of passionate lovemaking was practically a miracle, what with her having used a temporary sexual protection spell and Judah having been gifted with sexual protection by his cousin. With double protection, conception should have been impossible.
Gifted by his cousin. Gifted!
My God! Why hadn’t she immediately realized the implication of the word the moment Judah had said “a long-term gift that my cousin Claude and I have been exchanging since we were teenagers”?
In the Raintree clan, only royals had the power to gift charms. Why would it be any different with the Ansara? The ability was ancient, from the time of their eldest ancestors who had lived thousands of years ago, from a time when the Raintree and Ansara had been one.
Was Judah a royal Ansara?
If he was, then she had far more to fear than just a mere Ansara male wanting to claim his child. If Judah was a prince…
No, he couldn’t be. The Ansara were no longer a great clan with a powerful Dranir and Dranira, with a royal family of children, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins. Perhaps Judah possessed royal blood, and had the Ansara won The Battle two hundred years ago, he might today be a mighty prince. That would explain him being able to gift charms and exchange them with a cousin.
But she didn’t intend to leave anything to chance. Tomorrow she would confront him with her doubts. For Eve’s sake, she had to find out the truth.
TWELVE
Mercy waited until after breakfast before requesting a private conversation with Judah. To keep Eve occupied and away from the house, she had sent her daughter with Sidonia to take fresh baked goods to the visitors occupying the cabins. Although the kitchens in all the units were well stocked, Sidonia enjoyed sharing her homemade breads, muffins, cakes and pies with their guests. Being a gregarious, curious child, Eve liked nothing better than to meet various members of the Raintree tribe, so this Thursday morning outing with her nanny was a real treat for her.
Alone in the study with Judah, Mercy braced herself for the inevitable magnetic pull that drew her to him. If she denied their sexual connection, she would be lying to herself. What she could and would do was fight that attraction. During the years since she had seen him, she had convinced herself that what she’d felt for him during their brief time together hadn’t been as passionately exciting as she remembered. But those moments on the stairs last night had proven otherwise. The extraordinary chemistry between them could still make her weak and vulnerable, two things a Raintree never wanted to be around an Ansara.
“Go ahead. Get it over with.” Judah’s eyes twinkled with mischievous delight, his expression similar to Eve’s when she was up to no good.
Mercy squared her shoulders. “Just what do you think I’m going to say or do?”
“I assume you’re going to rip into me about what happened between us last night. So go ahead and tell me that you won’t allow it to happen again. Lay down the law. Show me who’s boss.”
She would like nothing better than to wipe that cocky grin off his face and was tempted to give him a psychic slap. But that would only prove how easily he could rile her. She certainly had no intention of giving him the satisfaction.
Ignoring his deliberate attempt to get a reaction, she asked, “How is it possible that you and your cousin are able to gift charms?”
“What?”
Well, that had wiped the smile off his face, hadn’t it? She had surprised him with her question.
“Are you talking about the sexual protection that Claude and I…?”
“I’m talking about the fact that only royals have the power to gift charms. Are you a royal? If so, that means there’s an Ansara royal family, right?”
He didn’t respond immediately, which bothered her. He was giving serious thought to his reply. Thinking up a plausible lie? she wondered.
“You must know that there’s always been a royal Ansara family. One of the old Dranir’s daughters, Princess Melisande, survived The Battle, married, and had children and grandchildren and so forth. To answer your other questions, yes, Claude and I have royal blood, or so our parents told us.”
“Are you a prince?”
“No.”
Was he lying to her? Did she dare believe him?
“Where is your home?” she asked.
“Why the sudden interest in my personal life? If you’re asking for Eve’s sake, then I can tell you I’m strong, healthy, mentally sound and possess all the powers of a royal.”
“Why are you reluctant to tell me where you live?”
“I live all over the world. I’m an international businessman, an offshore banker, with interests in num