TWENTY-SIX
When he heard the babble of female voices approaching, Vasco's courage failed. Instead of huddling in the corner of their bedchamber under his cloak, he dived under the nearest bed. A bed with a sword beneath it, of all things.
Trying to keep himself concealed and quiet while the princesses bustled about was bad enough, until the purple gown he'd seen Bianca wearing only hours before puddled on the floor inches from his face. He couldn't help himself. A glance upwards revealed pale, shapely legs and the underside of the sweetest pair of breasts he'd ever seen. Ancestors help him, but even Dokia's couldn't compare.
Vasco squeezed his eyes shut, but it was too late. The image of Princess Bianca's n***d body was branded to the inside of his eyelids. Princess or not, the burnin
