Free Any Price by Gail Faulkner Page A

college, intending to make it a career. According to the papers, they actually had to send a U.N. helicopter to get him off an aircraft carrier when it looked as though his identity would go public as rightful king.
    When she reached his closet, she found where he put on the king. It was huge and meticulously ordered, filled with the fine clothes required in his position. She trailed her hand along the rows of suits. At the very back she found an armoire. Opening its doors, she discovered the American Lore.
    Hurrying to the closet door, she peeked out at Thomas. “I’ll be out in a minute,” she called. He nodded.
    Closing the door, she began removing the constricting dress of the period costume. Thank God early Middle Ages meant no buttons. Soon she had the heavy overdress and filmy underdress off. She dived into that lovely armoire. Finding a soft, well-worn sweatshirt, she slipped it on. Several turns of the sleeves and it was done. A bit more rummaging found her sweat pants with a drawstring. Heaven.
    Emerging from the closet, she was a bit of an American waif. The clothes were way too big, but she’d made them fit by rolling up both sleeves and cuffs. Thomas’ eyebrows rose then he chuckled. “He will be very happy you made yourself at home, my lady.”
    “Yeah, well. This is the girl he seems to have signed up for,” Kenna sighed. “If we’re going to have a serious discussion, he might as well see the real me.” Kenna plopped down on the couch. Her bare feet curled under her as she leaned into plush leather and let her head rest against the padded arm. Closing her eyes for just a moment felt so good.
    Actual rest wasn’t possible. There was too much to think about, deal with. Looking into her reactions and responses proved confusing and scary. Not what she needed right now.
    Quieting her emotions, she examined Lore’s. He was irritated, slightly insulted and surprisingly a little hurt. Whatever was transpiring between Lore and Gregory, it was not something he wanted to do. She could feel Lore’s possessive male drive and the physical hunger always in the background and realized he was defending her or wanted to defend her.
    Gently she attempted to send him her support by pushing acceptance and self-deprecating humor at him on the low-level connection. She didn’t want to interrupt him with a telepathic message.
    Immediately a surge of almost tactile need returned to her. It flowed over her as if his body covered her with intimate urgency. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to hold her and he wanted her to rest. She felt him pull back desire, gentling it to soothing warmth. Kenna smiled to herself. His first response had been the honest one. The second was what he thought she needed.
    Putting communication with Lore into the background of her mind was easy when she simply accepted it. She tried being still and quiet, waiting to see if what Yuri had said was true.
    After about two minutes of absolute quiet, Kenna felt deep within her emerge faint whispers of others. Rigidly controlling her emotional response to this discovery, she waited in cautious wonder as the phenomenon surfaced. It came with gentle warmth.
    Who knew this could have sensation? Then again, the connection with Lore could burn with a dangerous heat. It wasn’t hearing words or thoughts, it was more a knowing. Now that she’d experienced the connection to Lore, she recognized the knowledge of others in her consciousness. Some secret piece of her soul was slowly unfolding as she felt acknowledged by their presence.
    It wasn’t just three of them either. There were more. She wasn’t sure how many. The three she’d met were definitely the most prominent, but behind them were others. Her connection to each of them seemed a single strand of silk, slender, tenuous, almost invisible, but very much present. Putting off the mind-bending panic this new knowledge demanded, Kenna guardedly investigated the three she knew.
    Opening her eyes barely