She watched her stepbrother approach her with the cocky stroll she knew so well. She cringed inwardly at the sensual smile playing on his full lips and at the way his blazing eyes consumed her. There was no way to elude him, much to her disconcertment. Moran frowned playfully and reproached her, “It is dangerous to go riding alone, Alysa.” Sounding as if she were accountable to him, he asked, “Where have you been?” He assisted her as she dismounted, then handed the animal’s reins to a stable boy. Alysa reclaimed the reins, smiled at the boy, and dismissed him. She said to Moran, “I prefer to take care of Calliope myself.” Ignoring her stepbrother, she led her horse into the stable to brush and feed him. Moran followed, chastising her again, but this time softly, “You must not ride without an escort, Alysa, and this is not a task for a princess. Both are improper. Remember your position.” To silence him, Alysa casually remarked, “I was perfectly safe; I did not ride far.
