"You crushed my fingers!" the girl spat. She clutched her reddened hand, and there was a genuine look of pain on her face. Great. He'd hurt his ward before they'd even made it past introductions.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea you were hiding there—."

"I wasn't hiding!"

Wren raised a single brow. He wasn't born yesterday. Still, he chose to feign ignorance. "I didn't see you. I apologize." When he extended his hand, she eyed it with distrust. "I'm just offering to help you stand." Her vibrant eyes rose to his face, and he grinned. Color flooded her cheeks.

She ignored his hand and scrambled to her feet, cheeks still crimson. Her robe, silk and pink, fell open as she did, revealing a spaghetti-strapped nightgown. Even the pink and red roses scattered across the slinky material couldn't hide her feminine curves, and as she fumbled to secure the robe again, Wren pretended interest in the fireplace. Still, heat crept up his own neck.

Yeah, this kind of first meeting would be his luck.

"Who are you? Why are you in this room?"

He glanced at her, relieved to see her a bit more covered. "Wren Adams, and I was looking for the kitchen."

She eyed him. "I was unaware we had guests here, Mr. Adams. Are you a friend of my father's?"

Wren startled. Was she serious? Innocence reflected in her expression. She doesn't know who I am. He almost grinned at this realization. "I'm more of an acquaintance."

Her attention flicked to his clothes, to his shoes, then back to his face. Wren struggled not to fidget under the scrutiny. "I see," she said. "You're staying the night then?"

"More or less. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

She lifted her chin. "Leah Kingsley, daughter of Tony Kingsley." Her tone of voice was almost regal. Still, when she reached out her uninjured hand in greeting, her fingers trembled.

Uncertainty touched Wren, for the way that she'd extended her hand seemed almost like... He mentally cursed himself for his deception. He took it, bent, and brushed his lips across her knuckles. Her fingers stiffened, and Wren panicked he'd done the wrong thing after all. He glanced up. Instead of the anger he expected to find, her eyes were wide and cheeks more pink than before.

"I - It is a pl - pleasure to meet you." She closed her eyes, and Wren sensed her frustration. When she opened them, her composure had returned. She withdrew her hand, almost smiling. Which was kind of cute. "You were looking for the kitchen?"

Wren grinned, feeling sheepish. "I was hungry, and your housekeeper told me there was lemon cake to be had."

"Well, I could take you there, if you'd like."

"That would be great. I'd appreciate it." Maybe, he could use this time to make a better first impression too, he thought.

"If you wouldn't mind waiting in the hall..." She waved a hand toward the doors. "I'll be just a few seconds."

Curiosity killed the cat. But Wren was very curious now. He bit the inside of one cheek and refrained from questioning her. "No problem." He turned to leave, but a flash of white on the floor caught his eye. He paused, stared at a strip of fabric poking from beneath the couch.

"Why are you laughing?"

Wren hadn't even realized he had chuckled. But even now, a low rumble vibrated in his chest. "You were hiding!"

"No, I, um... What do you mean? That's ridiculous."

Wren inched closer. A faint floral smell encased his senses, causing him to almost falter in his teasing, but he pushed aside the bothersome distraction. This really was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He took another step, and she finally relented and moved back, giving him the space he needed. He bent and tugged on the material strip. A rope cute from sheets. He glanced up in amusement. "You're planning to runaway; I've heard about your daring adventures."

 "You did that on purpose." When Wren merely looked at her, she tossed her hands in the air. "Fine! Yes, I'm running away. Please do me the favor of keeping quiet about it."

Wren released the material and straightened. He returned her stare, pondered his next move. He couldn't just let her runaway. It was his job to make certain she didn't. Still... He pushed the sheet rope back under the couch with the tip of his shoe.

For the second time, Leah almost smiled. "Promise you won't mention this to anyone?"

"Promise." Then, a new thought distracted him. He scanned the wall until he found the security camera. A black cloth covered its lens. This girl! Leah Kingsley was definitely trouble, but for a strange reason, he found it borderline charming. 

"I added it while the room was dark," Leah said. "I just needed a few minutes. It's not enough to keep Edward from being suspicious, but it gave me a chance."

"You are something else, Miss Kingsley."

Once again, the corners of her mouth twitched, signaling her pleasure at his compliment. "Can I really count on you not to mention this?"

"Yes. I swear I will not tell a soul if..."

"If...?"

"If you show me the kitchen."

It happened; she laughed, an enchanting sound that all but enchanted him.

"It's a deal. I think I want some too." She was still smiling when she walked toward the door.

Wren followed. "I'm curious. Why are you running away?"

She paused and when she faced him, a frown had replaced her smile. "I've been assigned a butler tomorrow." She said this as if it explained everything. Her gaze turned to steel. "But by the time I'm done with him, he'll be crawling out the door."

She exited the room. Wren stared after her in shock but then a slow grin spread across his face. "We'll see about that, Miss Kingsley," he whispered.

*****