He gave a half laugh. “My pleasure, Your Highness.”

“Now I’ve annoyed you.” With a shrug, she walked to him. “Well, I suppose we’ll annoy each other a great deal before it’s over. I’ll be honest with you, not because I want your pity, but because I have to say it to someone. I feel so alone.” Her voice wavered only slightly. The sun rushing through the windows betrayed her by revealing her pallor. “I have nothing I can see or touch that I know is mine. It isn’t possible for me to look back a year and remember something funny or sad or sweet. I don’t even know my full name.”

He touched her. Perhaps he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t stop. His fingers lifted to her face and just skimmed her cheek. “Her Serene Highness Gabriella Madeline Justine Bisset of Cordina.”

“So much.” She managed a smile, but her hand reached up to grip his tightly. The contact seemed a bit too natural for both of them, but neither broke it. “Brie seems easier. I can relax with Brie. Tell me, do you care for my family?”

“Yes.”

“Then help me give them back the woman they need. Help me find her. In one week I’ve lost twenty-five years. I need to know why. You must understand that.”

“I understand.” But he told himself he shouldn’t be touching her. “It doesn’t mean I can help.”

“But you can. You can because you have no need. Don’t be patient with me, be harsh. Don’t be kind, be hard.”

He continued to hold her hand. “It might not be healthy for an American ex-cop to give a princess a hard time.”

She laughed. It was the first time he’d heard it in ten years, yet he remembered. And he remembered, as she didn’t, the swirl of the waltz they’d shared, the magic of moonlight. Staying wasn’t wise, he knew. But he couldn’t leave. Not quite yet.

Her fingers relaxed in his. “Do we still behead in Cordina? Surely we have more civilized methods of dealing with rabble. Immunity.” Suddenly she looked young and at ease. “I’ll grant you immunity, Reeve MacGee. Hereby you have my permission to shout, probe, prod and be a general nuisance without fear of reprisal.”

“You willing to put the royal seal on it?”

“After someone tells me where it is.”

The intensity was gone. Pale and weary she might be, but her smile was lovely. He felt something else from her now. Hope and determination. He’d help her, Reeve thought. Later, perhaps, he’d ask himself why. “Your word’s good enough.”

“And yours. Thank you.”

He brought the hand he still held to his lips. It was a gesture, he knew, she should be as accustomed to as breathing. Yet just as his lips brushed her knuckles he saw something flicker in her eyes. Princess or not, she was a woman. Reeve knew arousal when he saw it. Just as he knew it when he felt it. Cautious, he released her hand. The step back was for both of them.