Free Queen For A Night by Jennifer Blake Page A

supposed to place her hand and wrist on Ross's rigidly held arm. They would enter the ball room side by side, pause long enough for the spotlight to find them, then walk forward to receive the bow of the captain. They would then present themselves to their subjects with regal salutes of their scepters, promenading up one side of the room and down the other. Returning to the center dais before the gazebo, they would turn and stand in royal dignity to bask in the homage of the krewe members and their guests numbering in the hundreds.
    Afterward, there would be the first dance, with the king and queen circling the floor in solitary splendor to officially open the ball. They would be joined by the court for another number, and then the general dancing would begin. When that was done, they would be free to slip away to remove the royal regalia, if they wished, making themselves more comfortable for the remainder of the evening.
    Simple. Nerve-wracking, but simple.
    “Don't look so worried,” Ross said as they stood waiting to be dismissed after the final round of instructions. “If you trip on your train, I'll be there to catch you.”
    “You're such a comfort.” The words had a noticeable lack of appreciation.
    His lips twitched. “It's not too late to back out. Say the word, and we'll make a run for it. The boat's windscreen has been replaced and wiring checked, so she’s good as new. We can be out in the gulf in no time.”
    She searched his face, entranced by something warm and promising she saw mirrored there. “I think you’re serious.”
    “Never more serious in my life.”
    The thought of going with him, now, this minute, of facing into the wind, breasting the waves and never looking back, had such a powerful appeal that it took her breath. “Is—is that what you really want?”
    “One of many things, but I'm willing to wait if the time isn't quite right.”
    What, exactly, was he saying? She was trying to decide when there came the sharp click of a woman's heels on the wood floor.
    Murielle's voice, quiet yet layered with irony, flowed around them. “Good Lord, Caroline, if you're going to seduce him again, at least take him somewhere not quite so public.”
    Caroline whipped around to face her cousin. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was Ross who recovered first.
    “Again?” he asked with a dangerous note in his voice.
    “Yes, well, I’d have thought what went on out on the boat was enough,” Murielle said with an arch smile. “But I suppose it isn't easy keeping a king satisfied, even for a queen. And the ball isn't until tomorrow night, after all.”
    “Don't.” That single word was barely above a whisper as Caroline forced it from her throat. “I told you it wasn't that way.”
    “No, no, of course not. It just happened, that's all. The time and the chemistry were right.” Murielle's voice dropped to a suggestive murmur. “And so convenient, too.”
    “You told her about last night?” Ross asked as he turned his dark blue gaze on Caroline.
    “No, not—” she began in distress.
    “She didn't tell me anything,” Murielle broke in. “She’s too cagey for that. But I guessed without too much trouble. I have to say I'm surprised at you, Ross, falling for such a trick, especially after threatening to throw me off your boat, naked in a crowded marina, for the same thing. It just doesn't seem like you.”
    “What you wanted was a trophy, not me,” he said, his voice as hard and brittle as the fiberglass shell of his yacht as he watched her.
    “And Caroline wanted something different?” Murielle's voice conveyed equal parts of irony and pity. “Ah, well, I suppose the price was right this time. I should have known you two worked it out between you.”
    Caroline, sick with embarrassment and distaste, put out her hand to clasp her cousin's arm. “Why?” she demanded. “Why are you doing this? If you wanted your crown back, all you had to do was say so.”
    “It isn't about being