Brenda stood between Prince Jasper and her sort-of-betrothed, Michael Carruthers, fumbling for Michael's name in her suddenly blank mind. She knew it started with an 'M.' What was wrong with her?!

     Her frantic gaze suddenly fell upon twinkling eyes, as she saw Simon watching her as if he knew exactly what was the matter. Brenda shot a suspicious glance at him, but his return gaze was the picture of innocence.

     Miranda watched Brenda in disbelief, as she could not even recall Michael's name. Stepping forward, Miranda said: "This is Michael Carruthers, Your Highness. My sister seems to be suffering some sort of bizarre memory loss," Miranda added dryly, which to her horror only earned her a cool, uninterested, and decidedly dismissive glance from the Prince.

     "I know who he is," Jax said, to which Brenda turned to him with a scowl that was far too pretty.

     "Well, if you knew who he was, why didn't you . . .er . . ."

     "Help you remember?" Jax offered.

     "I did not forget!" Brenda insisted, feeling worse by the second. She *had* forgotten. She'd forgotten Michael's name. Goodness! This was unheard of. Forgetting the very name of one's beloved. Mercy! She wondered if this strange malady was further evidence that she truly did have this exotic "love sickness" Malvodio had spoken of? Perhaps that sickness was not a fabrication at all? And here she was dismissing it, which could be making the symptoms more severe.

     "You did not remember," Jax countered with a shrug, and he dared to smile slightly at her, which infuriated her beyond anything else because it was the smile she absolutely adored and his timing could not have been worse. She did not want to feel anything even remotely resembling adoration for this man whilst her almost betrothed, whose name she could not even remember, was standing there!

     Michael curled and uncurled his fists in a silent fury as he witnessed the back and forth sparring between the Prince and Brenda. She was speaking to him quite freely, as other shocked onlookers observed as well. But no one in her family, or in the royal family, reprimanded her, leading to the inevitable conclusion that Prince Jasper had given her his permission to speak freely with him at all times. Such an honor was rare indeed.

     The lights in the ballroom dimmed at that moment, as the much heralded opera singer, Karina Paladin prepared to perform. Brenda glanced at Michael with a look that begged his forgiveness and then glanced at the stage to the outrageously beautiful woman with her tall ringlets of fiery-red hair, who was dressed in a gorgeous, low-cut gown meant to provoke a man's desires. Brenda was hardly surprised to find the woman staring dead-on at the Prince. Brenda was actually becoming quite accustomed to the female reaction to the Fahrlane royal son, but the look in this woman's eyes was very intimate. It was different from the others, Brenda noticed.

     Brenda gazed at Jax to see if he were looking at Miss Paladin, but to her shock, Jax was not gazing at the stage at all. He was looking at her, and it was *that* look, no less. The one that normally accompanied *that* smile. Brenda blushed to her roots and tried to move closer to Michael, but her feet would not budge. They literally would not move. She stared down at her silver shoes in bewilderment. Even though she was no longer looking at the Prince she could still feel his gaze upon her. It was not unlike sunlight kissing her skin. She swallowed and forced herself to look straight ahead at the stage. The woman up there certainly was beautiful, Brenda thought. And she was smiling at the Prince so beguilingly, enticingly. How could he not notice her?

     Without looking at him Brenda said, "That woman who is about to sing for us is stunningly beautiful, don't you think, Your Highness? And she seems to be trying to get your attention. Perhaps you should look towards the stage?" Brenda suggested, in an effort to get him to stop gazing at her, which was making her feel very self-conscious, not to mention pleasantly dizzy. And she knew that Michael was just barely hanging onto his fury at Prince Jasper's behavior towards her. The same way she could feel Jax's gaze like the sun kissing her skin, she could feel Michael's rage like an arctic blast hitting her on the other side.

     "She cannot even compare to you," Jax said matter-of-factly, as if he were just talking about the weather. "And what presently holds my attention is far superior to anything up on that stage at the moment," he said. "Far superior to anything in this room, quite frankly."

     Cursed delight attacked her body in a rush of tingly warmth, which she tried desperately to ignore. The outrageous pleasure his words had given to her was really rather infuriating. Once again she tried to move closer to Michael, but her feet may as well have been stuck in one of those abysmal, sticky tar pits of Kent. How odd, this was! Standing directly behind her, Simon suppressed his amused laughter, while Georgina giggled quietly into his shoulder.

     "I am sure I do not know what you mean, Your Highness," she said, staring at the stage and refusing to chance an encounter with those marvelous blue eyes.

     Jax gazed at her beautiful profile. "I am sure you do," he contradicted her, and without looking at him she could tell he was grinning, just as without seeing the front of her face, he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

     Michael was ready to slay anyone who so much as spoke to him, he was so furious. He had not been wrong at all about the Prince's reaction to Brenda. The man was clearly besotted with her, just as Michael had known he would be. Prince Jasper was paying no attention to Geneva, Miranda, or Victoria. In fact, he was paying attention to no one but Brenda. And Michael could not get past the guilt he had seen in Brenda's eyes, not the fact that she had seemingly been at a loss to recall his name! Part of him wanted to shake her until her head snapped; another part of him wanted to kiss her with a gargantuan hunger. She was avoiding looking at him, even now, he noticed bitterly. But at least she was avoiding looking at the Prince as well.

     Brenda knew the moment Jax's eyes left her because the warm feeling disappeared and all she felt was the coldness of Michael's fury at how this night was unfolding. She snuck a peek at Michael, whose eyes clearly revealed his fury and disappointment in her. Further inciting him was Beatrice Ostwell, who linked her chubby arm possessively through his as they watched the performance. Brenda then snuck a peek at the man on the other side of her, and he, too, was watching the performance, smiling slightly at the woman on the stage, who appeared to be singing just for him, her ample bosom rising and falling as she sang.

     The heart is slow to learn
     The heart is slow to learn
     These feelings that I feel
     Are foolish, but they're real
     I'm wise enough to see
     This love will surely be
     And each day is like last
     when living in the past
     I know it's mad
     And you won't return
     But then, as I have said
     The heart is slow to learn

     As the woman's strong, lovely voice rang out, Brenda noticed that the opera singer's eyes remained transfixed only on the Prince. The gaze was decidedly lusty, and more than a bit smitten. Brenda could not believe how forward the woman was being! And then she realized she was the last person who had any right to judge another's forwardness when *she* herself had been quite forward with the Prince in the garden, in the forest . . . She had an attack of guilt as the memory of her forwardness and its blissful reward came flooding back to her in images of sultry kisses and forbidden caresses that set her ablaze. She could not bear to look at Michael now, for she knew her guilt would be obvious. She could not look at the Prince either, or her desire would be obvious. She did not feel like looking at the opera singer, for that brought forth yet another unpleasant emotion. And so Brenda Barrett stared at her pretty silver shoes as the song progressed and finally came to an end.

     Trying once a gain to move her strangely immobile feet, Brenda tried to move them in the other direction -- towards the Prince -- this time. She came loose in a jarring motion that caused her to collide against the blonde vision in a humorous collision, which everyone but Michael found amusing.

     "I'm sorry," Brenda apologized, trying with great, but not very successful, effort to quell her own laughter. "I don't know what happened. I . . ." she giggled. "It was the strangest thing . . ."

     The Duke of Bensford grinned. Countess Leila Aubergenois glared jealously. Lady Judith Cosgrove, gossip extraordinaire, marveled at the electrifying chemistry between the Prince and the young, unknown girl, whose beauty and whose audience with the Prince was the cause for much female jealousy about the room. Michael Carruthers simply seethed; his desire to shake Brenda into a stupor now outweighing his gnawing lust for her.

     Disengaging himself from the possessive hold of Beatrice Ostwell, Michael clamped his hand onto Brenda's arm, which did not sit well with Jax at all.

     "May I have this dance?" Michael said through gritted teeth. "Unless you also happen to be first on His Highness's dance card," he added, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

     "It may be difficult for Brenda to dance with a broken arm," the Prince said, gazing down at Michael's hold on her with murderous blue eyes. Michael bit back a return, which would surely have gotten him sent to the dungeons, and he loosened his hold on Brenda.

     "Are you first on His Highness's dance card?" Michael repeated, his voice tinged with fury, as he ignored the Prince and gazed directly at Brenda.

     "No, of course not," Brenda said, as if the idea was absurd. And she linked her arm through Michael's to try and calm down his anger. Her gesture was not lost on Jax, who was not happy.

     "That is right -- *I* am first!" Geneva announced happily, stepping in front of the Prince with a curtsey. "Aren't I?" she asked with a sparkling smile.

     Jax returned her smile. "You are," he confirmed.

     Inexplicably, Brenda felt her heart sink as Jax took Geneva into his arms for their dance, while Michael led Brenda away -- *far* away to the other side of the ballroom for their dance.

     "They make a beautiful pair, don't you think?!" Michael snapped at her, when he caught her eyes trying to seek out Jax and Geneva.

     "Er… I guess," Brenda said softly. "Michael, I am sorry about . . ."

     "Do not speak of it, Brenda," he said. "We will never again discuss the way this night began. I am gravely disappointed in you."

     Guilt flooded Brenda. "I know. I am sorry," she repeated, willing her eyes not to seek out The Prince and Geneva yet again or Michael would surely erupt. Had his temperament always been so unpleasant, she wondered? How had she not noticed that?

     "You may make it up to me," Michael told her. "By doing two things. First, you will not dance with that swine prince at all this evening -- not even once."

     Brenda's head shot up to meet his gaze. She did not like being told what to do!

     "That will be impossible," she informed him.

     "What?" he seethed.

     "You really expect me to refuse the Prince?" she demanded. "I am on his dance card, Michael. I get five dances just like every other woman here, and it would be unseemly - no, *unheard* of -- for me to decline."

     Michael did not like the tone of her voice. "You need not *decline,*" he said. "You will simply be unavailable when your dances come about. You will keep yourself out of his sights until the dancing has ended."

     Brenda glared at him but did not say a word.

     "Is that understood, Brenda?" Michael asked, not at all liking the defiant glare she was bestowing upon him.

     Brenda refused to answer him. He'd always known she was the rebellious, overly independent sort, but she'd never behaved this way with him before. He did not like it!

     "Come with me," he growled leading her through the swirling bodies and outside to a shadowy area on the south balcony.

     "What are we doing out here?" Brenda demanded, angrily yanking her hand out of his hold.

     "What has become of you?!" Michael raged at her in disgust. "You've been in that palace for all of three days, and already you are acting as superior as the royal filth that resides there!"

     "Do not speak of them like that!" Brenda yelled at him. "You do not even *know* them. And, by the way, your opinions about them are ridiculous!"

     Michael was stunned at the way she was daring to speak to him and also her audacity to be defending the royal family to him - a family, which she had always known he despised with a passion.

     He grabbed her shoulders. "What has transpired between you and the Prince!" he spat out angrily. "Tell me!"

     No, she was not going to tell him, Brenda knew. She had a sudden jarring fear that he would toss her from the balcony if she did.

     "Nothing. You are simply wrong about him, Michael, that is all," she said, her voice less confrontational than it had previously been. "You are wrong about them all. I have been with them these past three days, as you have said, and I find all of your opinions of them to be completely without merit."

     "Oh, what do you know!" Michael spat out. "They are merely putting on a show for you, Brenda. Merely a pretense! You can surely see that the Prince has set his sights upon you. He would not wish to frighten you away by revealing his true self to you, so naturally he will give you this false image of himself and his kin! Do not be a fool!"

     "You are wrong," Brenda said. "He has not set his sights upon me, and he is not pretending to be something he is not. Can't you just accept that you were wrong about the royal family, Michael? It is not a crime to be incorrect . . ."

     "I am not the one who is wrong, damn you! *You* are wrong!" he informed her. "You really must curb these willful ways of yours before we are wed, Brenda," he sighed in frustration. "Now, all that I have told you about Prince Jasper and his family is the truth. Do not attempt to think on this for yourself, just listen to what I tell you."

     Brenda was sure she must not have heard him correctly.

     "Did you just tell me not to *think* for myself?" she asked incredulously, once again in the confrontational tone that he was not at all accustomed to and did not like.

     "Well, you have shown me what a danger you are to yourself when you attempt to do so," he retorted.

     Brenda had had enough. "Get out of my way this instant! I wish to go back inside," she said, her gold-flecked brown eyes glinting with anger.

     Her dismissive words enraged him, but instead of giving into his desire to violently shake her into submission to his will, he roughly drew her to him instead and pressed his lips to her mouth hungrily. The kiss was awful. His aggression was met by immobility on her part, and when he hungrily tried to get her to part her lips for him, she refused.

     "Open your mouth for me, damn you," he commanded, longing to slide his tongue beyond her lips and taste this beautiful creature once and for all. He was throbbing with desire, despite her lack of response.

     In response to his command for her compliance, Brenda pushed against his chest and pushed away from him. "Are you quite finished?" she asked, her eyes raking over him in disgust.

     Michael made himself calm down, although the fever of his desire for her still raced inside of him. He would have her soon. But not now. He switched tactics at once. "It is only that I have missed you so, my sweet," he said, caressing her face. "Forgive me." Then he kissed her hands softly and reached into this pocket. "I have something for you. Something to remind you that my heart is yours and to remind *you* that your heart is *mine,*" he added with emphasis, as he produced the gold bangle and slid it onto her slender wrist.

     Brenda was a little galled to realize that he thought that giving her jewelry would absolve him from his brutish behavior.

     "It is my engagement gift to you," Michael informed her. "In lieu of the ring I shall present to you as soon as your infernal three months at the palace are done with."

     "It's . . . lovely," Brenda said, touching the bangle on her wrist. "But, you know that I still have to speak to my father about us, Michael. He remains adamantly opposed to the marriage."

     "He had best change his tune," Michael said, once again in his cold, warning tone.

     Back inside of the ballroom Jax pulled aside one of his Knights, Ian. "Go and find her," Jax said quietly.

     "And if she is with Carruthers?" Ian asked.

     Jax did not want to think about that. "Just go and find her," he repeated. "Make certain she is all right."

     "I believe this dance is mine, Your Highness," Karina Paladin said, with a sultry smile towards her ex-lover.

     As they danced, Karina was aware that the Prince's thoughts were anywhere but with her. As wonderful as it was to be held in his arms again, she was saddened by the detachment he now felt towards her. Gone were the intimate smiles, a flash of dimples from him that would send her to her knees with delight. Gone were the sensual gazes, the deliberate, provocative swirls of his fingertips against her wrist or the back of her neck when they danced. All gone.

     Karina sighed. "So it is to be the stunning little brunette, then is it?" she said.

     Jax gazed down at the voluptuous redhead in his arms, his most favorite mistress of them all. When he had been in the frame of mind to have mistresses, that is. That frame of mind no longer interested him. "Yes," he said.

     "I do not suppose there is any way I could make you forget her?" Karina purred, giving it a last ditch effort.

     "Such a thing is not possible," Jax told her.

     "Why?" Karina asked, out of genuine curiosity.

     "For me there is no other but her," Jax told her.

      Karina was amazed to hear such words from him. "I have never heard you speak like this."

     "I suppose that is because I have never felt like this," he said.

     "You . . . love her then?" Karina asked, thinking that if he said the words she would truly know her chances were moot.

     "I was destined to love her," he responded.

     "Ahh . . . but *do* you?"

     Jax gazed down into soft, green eyes. "That is something Brenda should be the first to hear from me, Karina, not you."

     The singer smiled and nodded, realizing the only chance she really did have of getting back into Jax's life and his bed was if the girl, Brenda, somehow managed to screw this up. It was certainly a possibility, Karina realized, feeling a bit cheered. After all, the girl was so young and inexperienced. How long could she possibly hold Jax's attentions? At least in the bedroom. Even if Jax did marry her, which Karina realized was a fairly done deal in Jax's eyes, he would be in need of a mistress to satisfy the parts of him his wife would not be able to.

     Jax noticed Karina's suddenly bright smile. "Something delights you?" he asked, spinning her around the dance floor.

     "Well, you do, of course, my Prince," she said flirtatiously. "As does the future. Yes, the future suddenly delights me immensely," she said with a laugh.

     Knight Ian came across the shadowy south balcony, where he heard the voice of the girl he sought. "Lady Brenda," he called out.

     Brenda recognized Ian's voice right away. She had actually gotten to know all the Knights of the Realm very well, but she especially knew those who guarded The Prince best of all.

     "Ian?" she said, emerging from the balcony, while Michael stayed behind in the shadows, scowling at his former Realm-brother.

     "Are you all right?" Ian asked, gazing into the shadows and finding it laughable that Carruthers thought he was actually cloaked in those shadows. No wonder he'd been dismissed from the Realm. He really did lack the skill and the stealth to be amongst the ranks of such an elite group of men. Although once, he had been promising, he had quickly proved to be inept.

     "Yes, I'm fine," Brenda said. "I was just enjoying the night air," she said, spreading her arms dramatically in an attempt to block his view of the shadows and the man attempting to hide there.

     Ian wanted to roll his eyes at her ridiculous fib, but this girl was soon to be their new princess. The beloved wife of his most beloved Prince. As a loyal Knight, Ian would die for the woman -- the one who was the destined heart of his Prince -- and would never mock her.

     "You should not be out here . . . alone," Ian said, his hazel eyes sweeping the shadows and shooting a look of disgust over to the man hiding there.

     "Well, thank you for coming to get me," Brenda said, smiling at him. Out of all of the Knights, Ian, Steven, Connor, Owen, and Glenn were her favorites. "Was the Prince looking for me?" she asked, and Michael was furious to detect a note of hopefulness in her soft voice. "Did he send you?"

     Ian thought that as Brenda Barrett posed that question, she looked absurdly beautiful. It seemed to him that any time she mentioned Prince Jasper, her already indisputable beauty intensified remarkably. A very pleasant phenomenon, indeed.

     "You have been out here a long time," Ian told her. "We merely wanted to ensure that you were safe, Lady Brenda," Ian responded, but there was a hint of a twinkle in his hazel eyes that told her that indeed Jax had sent him to look for her.

     Brenda grinned up at the Knight as they began to walk back towards the filled ballroom, as Michael emerged from the shadows and glanced after them with hostile eyes. Brenda was going to have to be controlled, he realized. He did not approve of these changes in her one bit.

     Toying with the intricate handle of Ian's sword, Brenda said, "You can tell me the truth, Ian. He sent you to find me because my name popped up on his dance card, didn't he?" she said with a beautiful laugh.

     Ian glanced over at her as they entered the throng of dancers. "You really have no idea how long you have been out there, do you?" he asked her. "Your name was called five times, Lady Brenda. There was quite an entertaining battle amongst your sisters and Lady Karina as to whom would claim the five dances your forfeited."

     Brenda's crestfallen face touched Ian's heart. So impossibly pretty, so young, so unaware of the destiny of her own heart.

     "Forfeited?" she repeated. "You mean to tell me . . ."

     "If you were allotted five dances with His Highness, as every other woman was, then yes, I mean to tell you, you have none left. They were claimed in your absence," Ian told her, and then he gave her a sympathetic smile and left her in the company of her sisters. Ian walked over to Jax, who was standing with the five other Knights who were there, waiting for Ian's return.

     "Was she alone?" Jax asked.

     Ian shook his head. "He was with her," he responded.

     "I hope you ran him through," Steven said, glancing down in disappointment at his Knight-brother's clean, unused sword.

     "She was with him this entire time?" Jax repeated in disbelief, not at all liking the things his imagination was telling him had likely transpired between Brenda and her so-called "love," Carruthers, on a dark balcony. The jealousy Jax felt was just an annoyance, but it was the disappointment he felt in Brenda that really bothered him. She was his. His destined love. Why didn't she realize this as of yet?

     "It would appear so," Ian said, hating to say it.

     "Perhaps I've made a mistake," Jax said thoughtfully, sadly.

     "What do you mean?" Knight Owen asked.

     "Perhaps she is not the one," Jax clarified. "When I realized who she was to me, do you know that I had not the slightest interest in another woman? It was as if they all ceased to exist for me in the span of a mere moment. She was all that mattered, and she was the only one who could touch me. It stands to reason that were she the one I imagined her to be, she would feel something similar to what I feel. No -- not similar. Exactly the *same* as what I feel. She would not spend an entire hour out on a secluded, dark balcony with another man. But this is a man she has told me that she loves. I have dismissed that because I knew - or thought I knew - what she was to me and therefore knew what I was to her. But if I was wrong, then it would make sense that she really does love this man. And I have been pursuing the wrong girl."

     "Perhaps just the wrong sister," Owen suggested, instantly annoyed with Brenda for putting that wistful look on his Prince's face. "Lady Geneva behaves towards you the way a destined mate would, Jax. She looks at no other man; she revels in your company. She takes her pleasure from delighting you. Perhaps she is the one?"

     "Yes, that could very well be," Steven added, just as put off with Brenda as Owen was, seeing how unhappy she was making Jax.

     "Let us not be too hasty now. I, for one, still think that Brenda is quite obviously the one," Ian insisted. "Jax, recall what you felt when you met her. You did not feel this upon meeting Geneva, did you? That has to mean something. Also, when I found Brenda just now on the balcony, I did not interrupt a passionate embrace or a fiery kiss. I interrupted an argument about a betrothal Carruthers wanted to push ahead and she wanted to hold off on," Ian revealed, scowling at his Knight-brothers Steven and Owen for so easily turning on Brenda. He understood where they were coming from, of course, as the Prince was so dearly beloved to them all that anyone who hurt him was an instant enemy.

     "I do not think she is the one," Jax said. "And I do not wish to commit myself to a mistake of this magnitude." But even as he spoke, he felt a hand from behind him brush against his own, and fireworks spirited throughout his blood stream. He knew it was Brenda without looking at her. And if she were not the one, then how the devil was she able to incite these reactions within him by her mere touch? And Ian was right in that Jax had reacted to Brenda and only Brenda in the way it was foretold he would react to his destined love. Annoyed, Jax ignored the fact that Brenda was somewhere behind him, and strode forward to the next mindless, young woman he owed a dance to.

     Brenda stood on the ballroom dance floor, the object of many a desirous, male gaze and yet feeling very much alone. She had playfully brushed her hand against Jax's to get his attention, and he had completely ignored her, and in fact, had walked away from her. And all the Knights had followed suit, not even bothering to glance her way - well, all except Ian, who had barely been able to meet her eyes.

     Brenda bit her lip, wondering what was wrong? Had she been so spoiled by Jax's playful affections and sensual attentions that she could now not be happy without them? Love sickness, again? she thought sadly. Then she shook off this ridiculous melancholy. She should be *glad* he was no longer bestowing his affections on her, she told herself, despite the stinging she felt in her eyes. This was a good thing. Yes, it was a good thing, she thought miserably as she took a seat alone by the window, gazing out so no one could see the idiotic tears she felt the need to release.

     "This is nice," a voice said above her, and she felt a hand touch the gold bangle Michael had given her.

     Taking a moment to wipe the stupid, inexplicable tears way, Brenda put on a pretty smile and turned to face Simon, who stood above her.

     "Thank you," she said. "Are you having a good time?" She scooted over on the window seat so Simon could sit down next to her. Suddenly she was so glad for his company, as she could no longer stand watching the reflection in the window of Jax dancing from woman to woman, while obviously not even bothering to look for her. He seemed to be paying Geneva an inordinate amount of attention, Brenda noticed, as each time he would break from a dance, he and Geneva would end up chatting and laughing. Obviously Jax was no longer interested in his plan to spend all of his time with Brenda and thus turn her sisters off. Brenda tried to ignore the nauseous, profoundly upsetting sensation this left within her.

     "Oh, this is pleasant enough," Simon said with a smile. "It would be infinitely more pleasant if Gina did not have to dance with anyone but me," he added. "May I see that?" he asked once again, touching the bangle.

     Brenda took it off and handed it to him for his perusal.

     "What about you, are you having a good time?" Simon asked as he rolled the bangle between his hands, circling his palms around it three times.

     "Yes," Brenda said glumly, and Simon had to laugh at her positive response combined with that sad, little tone of voice.

     "There is an impressive line of men waiting to dance with you, you know," Simon pointed out to her as he handed her back the bangle. "I would be honored to be the first."

     Brenda smiled at him and placed her hand in his outstretched one.

     "Did you know that this is the first ball I have ever attended?" Simon told her, as he swept her into his arms to the beautifully played Rigaudon from Water Music.

     "Ahh, something you and I have in common," Brenda said. "So what do you think so far?" she asked with an infectious smile.

     "I think," he said, "that there is too much indulgence in excess; the people eat too much and drink too much and definitely talk too much."

     Brenda giggled and nodded in agreement.

     "And what is with this dance card nonsense?" Simon continued. "In my opinion, one should be able to dance with the person of one's choice for the entire evening if it is one's wish."

     Brenda laughed. "I agree with you. On all counts," she said, just as her bangle fell off and rolled to the floor.

     "Let me get that for you," Simon said, as he picked up the bangle and then placed it back on her hand.

     Two minutes later it fell off again. When it happened twice more in the next four minutes, Brenda was as befuddled as she was hysterically laughing.

     "This is so bizarre!" she said, laughing along with Simon. "It was such a snug fit."

     "Perhaps it was not meant to fit," Simon suggested casually.

     The bangle fell off again, and this time it rolled along the floor. Simon grinned as Brenda chased down the bangle though the dancing couples, who were getting a kick out of seeing the beautiful, young girl running after the rolling piece of gold. Brenda found the entire scenario incredibly funny and could only imagine how she looked, chasing after the ill-fitting piece of jewelry in her beautiful gown, her elegant French braid coming loose.

     "Catch it, catch it, my dear!" Beatrice Ostwell said, laughing loudly, her jowls quivering with mirth as Michael, who was holding onto the large woman in a tiresome waltz, watched with livid, dark eyes as the bangle he'd given Brenda as a symbol of their commitment rolled along the floor as if en route to a predetermined destination.

     "Over there, Brenda!" Princess Georgina gaily called out, as the bangle rolled under a table and then out again, and Gina gave chase along with Brenda, the two of them laughing as they tried to catch hold of the runaway bangle, which the Danvers' guests watched in amazement, as the beautiful brunette and the wild princess raced after the rolling circle.

     Jax heard the laughing commotion from where he stood out on the northern terrace, gazing moodily out at the ocean, and gazed about to see what the cause of it was. All at once a gold bangle came rolling out onto the terrace, stopping at his booted feet.

     Beautiful laughter soon followed as a breathless, laughing Brenda appeared behind the bangle. She came to abrupt halt when she saw Jax standing there, the bangle at rest at his feet. She stood there staring at him, trying to catch her breath, not only from the merry chase the rolling bangle had led her on, but the sight of Prince Jasper standing there in silver-blue moonlight, looking something beyond splendid.

     Jax gazed at her, as she stood before him motionless. She was as beautiful as the starlit heavens, her breathing erratic, her gorgeous hair coming loose. The magnetic pull he felt towards her was monumental. How could he ever have doubted she was not his? Everything in him screamed that she was. Forever.

     He reached down and retrieved the bangle and held it out to her.

     Brenda remained immobile, as her mind tried to grasp the fact that the bangle, given to her by another man as a symbol of an engagement, stubbornly refused to stay on her wrist and then in the end had led her to . . .this man. Her heart slammed against her chest, and she took a step forward.

     "I am sorry if I disturbed you," she said, reaching for his hand, which held out the bangle to her.

     "This belongs to you?" Jax asked her.

     She nodded. "I . . . yes, it does." She felt strangely entranced out here on the moonlit terrace with him. And somehow it felt far more dangerous than being on that shadowy balcony with Michael. From inside the ballroom the exquisite strains of Siceilienne from Pelleas et Melisande could be heard floating from the orchestra. The music could not have matched the night any better, Brenda thought, nor the man. She cleared her throat and reached for the bangle. "Thank you."

     The moment her hand touched his, bolts of electricity raced through them both and Jax grasped her hand, not letting her go.

     "I do not believe I can allow this night to end without having one dance with you," Jax said to her, drawing her nearer.

     "I do so apologize for missing all of my dances with you," she said in a rush of heartfelt words said so sincerely that Jax instantly forgave her for whatever she had done with Carruthers on that shadowy balcony earlier.

     "All is forgiven," Jax said, taking her hand and kissing it, in that way that he always would kiss her hand, his eyes never leaving hers even as he did it. She could barely catch her breath! And then he pulled her into his arms, the bangle, held loosely between their joined hands, fell to the floor soundlessly, righted itself so that it could once again roll, and proceeded to roll right off of the terrace and into the darkness of night below. It fell right into one of the carriages in the circular drive.

     Jax slowly pulled Brenda into his arms, as the music seemed to magically swell around them, as if the very notes of the song had come to life and were dancing about their heads. Brenda was unnerved by how good it always felt to be held in his embrace, whether it was in a kiss or in a dance or if she had stumbled and he was merely helping to steady her, it always felt the same way to be in his arms. Nothing about him ever felt like a stranger, the way it should have. Instead it felt as if she belonged there with him, close to him. Always. As if it had never been any other way.

     Strange, powerful and scary emotions flitted through Brenda's heart, and she felt a sense of deep panic coming on and needed to pull away from Jax, but he would not let her.

     "No, do not be afraid of this," he said in a voice that could seduce a storm into stillness. She felt his fingers in her hair pulling loose her already loose French braid and allowing her dark hair to spill over her bare shoulders, the silver ribbons falling to the floor, the glittering butterfly clips scattering about her hair like sparkling moon dust. "Close your eyes," he said with a smile that she could not resist if she tried.

     She shut her eyes, feeling incredibly breathless. His lips, soft and warm, touched down on her forehead. Then she felt them on her eyelids, then her cheeks, as he kissed a circle around her face - no it wasn't a circle. It was heart! she realized, stunned. She felt his thumb brush slowly over her lips, felt his lips touch ever so softly against hers, a teasing kiss that made her want another. He gave her another, but it was just as teasing as the first had been. Then she felt his hands cup her face, and all at once his mouth descended upon hers in a kiss that stole her very wits. The world began to tilt and swirl in mad delight, as their lips moved together in a sensual dance. She felt his hands move from her face and slide into her hair as he slowly angled her beautiful face, and their lips parted to allow their tongues to be a part of this sensual play. The kiss deepened erotically in an expolosion of passion, and as she felt her own heart racing like a runaway carriage, she felt his own doing the same. The passion was more intoxicating than any expensive sprits being served inside at the ball, and more boundless than the billions of icy-white stars glittering in the night sky

     Brenda was reeling and breathless when they finally stopped, several long minutes later. She realized, incredulously, that they had actually kissed for the duration of that entire song!

     "Tell me you believe in destiny now," Jax said to her, his magnificent blue eyes imprisoning her gaze, his hands idly toying with the curls of her hair.

     Yes! Brenda thought. "No," she said out loud.

     Jax arched an eyebrow at her. "No?" his eyes were amused and intolerably sexy. "Well, you should," he advised.

     "I do not," she insisted, trying not to stare at his lips as if they were a starving woman's feast.

     Jax caressed her face with the back of his hand. "One day," he whispered, kissing her cheek very close to her mouth, "you will."

     "Destiny is nonsense. And even if it were not nonsense, destiny would not be you and I," Brenda insisted, stubbornly. "My destiny is Michael. The man that I . . ."

     "Impossible," Jax said cutting her off before she could finish.

     "But you did not even know what I was going to say," she said in frustration.

     "You were going to say the man that you 'love.' You were going to say that Michael Carruthers is this man. And I am telling you that is impossible," Jax said with a shrug.

     "Why is it impossible?!" she demanded, unnerved by his certainty, not to mention the way her heart seemed to suddenly be thundering with joy at the fact that Jax was so certian.

     "It is impossible for you to love him, Brenda. To look at me the way you do, to laugh with me the way you do, to kiss me the way you do, to touch me the way you do … and then to say you love *him.* No, that is not possible."

     "Jax, stop that!" she said, and he had to grin since it was the first time ever, she had called him Jax.

     "Any logical thinking person will tell you the same," he said with another innocent shrug.

     "If you persist in thinking this way, then I . . .well, I shall just have to ask you never to kiss me again," Brenda announced and was infuriated when Jax's response was a soft laugh.

      "I think that will be about as effective as my asking you never to respond to me the way you do again," he said. "Or asking you never to touch me, as well," he added glancing down with playfully reprimanding eyes at her hands which were even now splayed against his chest, thrilling to the feel of the hard, perfect muscles beneath the black silk shirt.

     Brenda pulled her hands away, aghast at her lack of control and manners and sense around him.

     "Or asking me not to breathe," Jax added softly. Then he gave her a smile that was too perfect to even describe and brushed a heavenly soft kiss against her cheek. "We need to go back inside," he said, taking her hand and leading her back indoors with him.

     "I do not understand why we must be the frist to leave," Michael said sourly to his atrocious date, Beatrice Ostwell.

     "Well I told you, my sweet boy, my bunions are beginning to ache and it is time for me to have my foot-soak in scented salts. "Care to join me?" she cooed, wagging a flabby arm at him, as her chubby fingers brushed against his face.

     Michael bit down on the bile in his throat at the thought of having to make love to this chattering beast of an aristocrat again. The first time had been horrifying enough, although it had gotten him to the ball. For all the good that had done, he thought bitterly as he mulled over what a forgettable, unsatisfying evening this had been. His hour alone with Brenda on the balcony had been nothing like what he had planned or imagined. His lust had gone unquenched, he had not managed to stir up hers, and instead he'd seen a willful side of her that he despised and intended to curb. Good god, the girl had practically been a hellion tonight, biting his head off, dismissing his opinions and then having the nerve to contradict him as well! Telling him to get out of her way, and all but dismissing him! He would put a stop to these rebellious notions of hers before they were wed, that was for sure. She would be a compliant wife, whose only passionate outbursts would be sqeals and moans of pleasure in their bedroom.

     He struggled to help Beatrice's hefty frame into the carriage, and then as he climbed in behind her, he gazed down in disbelief at the gold bangle that sat in the seat. Michael's mouth fell open, not believing what he was seeing. It was Brenda's bangle. The symbol of their engagement, their commitment, the thing he'd brought Brenda to remind her that she was his and *only* his, now lay in the seat of Beatrice Ostwell's carriage, half of the bangle mercilessly squashed beneath the woman's enormous bottom!

     Michael had not thought he could be any more furious than he was this night, but this was the last straw! There was a way to make Brenda his once and for all, to give her asinine father no choice in the matter, and rule out the Prince as a suitor for her all together. Now all Michael had to do was convince Brenda that this way was the best way. And convince her he would, he swore, as he watched as the rest of the bangle disappeared beneath Beatrice Ostwell's gargantuan rump as the carriage left the Danvers estate.

     Meanwhile, in a silver-and-gold coach, leaving the Danvers estate, surrounded by Knights of the Realm and headed towards the palace, Brenda Barrett was curled up rather uninhibitedly against the lean, muscular body of a certain stunning blonde prince, fast asleep. Her bickering sisters were in the carriage behind, complaining to their mother about the Prince's affinity for Brenda and how unfair it was that Brenda got to ride in the Prince's wonderful coach with those cutest of the Realm Knights surrounding it. Veronica Barrett advised her daughters to admit to the plainly obvious: the Prince's choice was made - and Brenda was it.

     True, the sisters realized. But did *Brenda* know this? Somehow, they doubted it and instinctively knew she would be none too happy to find out! And perhaps her reaction to the news would be enough to make the Prince give up on her. After all, for a few glorious moments at the ball tonight, he'd seem unaffected by, and even uninterested in, Brenda - as if he'd given up on her. It could happen again! The sisters smiled as they all had different images of their impetuous sister's expected display of unseemly outrage if the Prince were to choose her. If she refused him - which it was very likely she would - he would have to choose one of them instead! And no one was happier about this than Geneva, who had a feeling she would be the front-runner.

     In the Prince's coach, as he gazed down, through sleepy, blue eyes at the sleeping beauty wrapped so intimately around him, he knew that nothing on earth would stop him from having this love with her. This destined love that had been there always from the beginning of time- just waiting for them to be born -- just waiting for them to meet. Nothing would stop this love. And he pitied anything or anyone that tried to . . .

Song Credit: "The Heart Is Slow To Learn" by Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Song Credit: "Storybook" written by Frank Wildhorn and Nan Knighton, available on the album entitled The Scarlet Pimpernel on Angel Records.