Oddly enough, though normally she relished the peace and quiet, this night she found she would have welcomed company. Not just any company, but Dr. Streib’s. For some unfathomable reason, she realized she found their verbal sparring invigorating.
After she’d finished her meal, she grabbed a pot of fresh tea and headed up to her room to read. Aware she had to be at the laboratory early, she got ready for bed, crawling beneath the covers right as her clock chimed midnight. She had a touch of a headache, though she felt too tired to get back out of her bed and search for a pain reliever.
If she had any dreams, she didn’t remember them.
The next morning she woke to bright sunshine and birdsong. Testing her head, she found the headache had retreated. Good. Stretching, she tried to decide what she’d do that afternoon. Normally on a day like this, she’d go for a horseback ride or a long walk with her dogs. Since she knew she’d be confined to the house helping Dr. Streib with his pointless research in the morning, maybe she’d do some of her favorite activities that afternoon.
Stretching, she reluctantly climbed from her supersoft bed and padded across the room to the shower. She elected not to call in any of her numerous assistants, preferring to perform her late morning preparations in privacy. She’d long ago learned that her day went better if she kept the fussing and pampering to a minimum. Of course, if there was a special event, she used all the help at her disposal. But for day-to-day, routine life, she preferred to do as much as possible on her own.
Ninety minutes later, hair scooped back in a jaunty ponytail and minimal makeup skillfully applied, she wandered out into the hallway dressed in jeans and boots and a soft cashmere sweater. Despite the bright sunshine, the weather forecasters had predicted a cold front coming in from the mountains later that day and she wanted to be ready.
A quick glance at her watch showed it was nearly noon. She’d overslept. Next time, she’d be sure and set an alarm. After having an egg-white omelet for a late breakfast, she took her second cup of coffee with her as she made her way to Dr. Streib’s laboratory. She wasn’t sure what exactly to expect, but she doubted any of it would be fun.
Focusing intently on listening to any sound from the hall outside the room he’d been given to use as a laboratory, Braden tamped down his rising irritation and impatience. Where was the princess? He’d asked her to be here at eight and he’d of course arrived early, grabbing some kind of pastry from the kitchen and asking for a pot of coffee to be sent to his room.
He tapped his wrist, grimacing as his audible watch stated the time. Princess Alisa was nearly four hours late. At this rate, it would be lunchtime and the entire castle would come to a grinding halt so everyone could eat some sort of huge meal.
Had she meant to stand him up? Was the no-show her way of quietly rebelling against her father’s dictate that she submit to testing?
Cursing under his breath, he went over placement of his equipment for the six or seventh time. The first things he’d planned to do would all be routine medical tests. An EKG, some blood work and a urinalysis. The king had even, at no doubt great expense, brought in an MRI machine and a CT scanner and set them up in separate rooms.
He planned to do everything both to her and to himself, so he could use his results as baseline.
When he’d finished, all of the data would be analyzed and digitally encrypted in his computer. Voice recognition software would enable him to dictate and he had an audio program in place to keep him informed of the results.
He’d already run his own panel of tests. The only thing missing was his subject. Princess Alisa herself.
He cursed again. Virulently. If he’d been able to see, he would stride down the hall and locate her himself, bringing her back to the lab posthaste. As it was, without sight he couldn’t actually stride, though he could do some damage with his cane if he felt so inclined.
His watch again announced the hour. Straight up and down noon. They should have gotten started hours ago. Hours. If his subject wasn’t royalty, she’d be in for a tongue-lashing when she finally showed up. Assuming she did show up.
He began to pace the length of the small room, having predetermined there were no obstacles to trip over. Despite what pre-conceived notions he might have had of spoiled, selfish princesses, he truly hadn’t expected this.
To her, this might be all fun and games. Something she had to do to keep her father happy so he wouldn’t cut her off. But to Braden, this was more. This was his life’s work, something that could make a difference as much as his work in surgery had. Discovering a cure for the madness that plagued those who didn’t change often enough would be epic. Legendary.
The implication was unfathomable. He could only imagine how such knowledge would broaden the horizons for so many. Pack members would be able to serve in the navy, travel on submarines and ships. They could work on oil rigs and drilling platforms, and other places where it was impossible to change.
If he could discover the secret. He was so close. And if he actually believed in anything as esoteric as gut feelings, he’d say that he could feel it.
Princess Alisa held the key. He knew this with unshakable certainty. For this reason he had jumped through diplomatic hoops, secured the necessary permissions and gathered supplies.
Now he’d cleared all the hurdles and made the journey to Teslinko. The ordeal had taken far too long to come to fruition. Now, the time had finally come to begin.
Then this. His subject hadn’t shown up. She knew the key lay with her and didn’t much care. A pampered princess from some obscure European country. No doubt she’d like nothing better than to dismiss him and stroll away, laughing all the while.
Which she couldn’t do. He wouldn’t let her. He’d go back to King Leo if necessary. Princess Alisa was vital to his research, the sole living shifter who could go six months to a year without changing shape and—most importantly—without going mad. Such a thing was virtually unheard of, except in the dusty old legends of their kind.
Consumed by his thoughts and his pacing, he almost missed the sound. There. High heels tapping on marble. Princess Alisa had finally deigned to grace him with her presence.
Braden clenched his jaw, steeling himself for her arrival. When she entered the room, his wolf sat up and took notice. He could have sworn the atmospheric pressure changed, or something else completely unscientific. Either way, it made him uncomfortable and he didn’t like it one bit.
He busied himself with pretending not to notice her arrival and rechecking his equipment.
“Hello? Earth to Doctor.” A trace of amusement colored her husky voice.
He started, still playing her game, all the while suppressing the urge to lash out with some comment about the time. “Ah, Princess Alisa. I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“Obviously,” she drawled. “Well, I’m here. I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Shall we get started?”
He couldn’t help it—he saw red. Over with as quickly as possible? They could have been halfway done with that morning’s tests if she’d actually showed up when she’d agreed to. This—and more, in fact all the remonstrations he wanted to say—simmered right at the tip of his tongue.
Rather then spewing them, he swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself. If he gave in to his temper, he’d make things even more difficult.
He wasn’t used to exercising such restraint.
His watch chose that time to speak the hour. Twelve-fifteen. More time wasted. Perfect.
And then his stomach growled. Loudly.
“Have you had your lunch?” he managed, hoping there was the smallest semblance of civility in his voice.
“Lunch?” Again she laughed. “I’m not hungry. Since I overslept, I barely just finished my breakfast.”
Which