Prince Incognito by Linda Goodnight

Author:Linda Goodnight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Flames licked from beneath the canvas top like hungry tongues.

Still reeling from Luc’s startling, glorious kiss, Carly leaped from the rough-hewn log and took off in a dead run.

“Carly. Stay back.” Luc caught her from behind, wrapped strong arms around her.

“My camera. I left it on the wagon.”

His marshmallow-sweet breath puffed against the side of her face. She wanted to turn and kiss him again.

“Forget the camera,” he said.

Easy for him to say. His livelihood didn’t depend on those pictures. Hers did. But from the looks of the fire, her film was probably long gone. She sagged in his arms. “I’ll go for water.”

“Alert the cowboys first.” And then he thundered away, straight toward the burning wagon.

“Luc,” she called, knowing she wasted her breath. Luc would take the lead, as he was born to do, even if the action put him in jeopardy. Silly man. He didn’t even know that about himself.

Carly wheeled toward the area beneath the trees where rows of sleeping bags lay like dark mounds. She stuck her fingers between her teeth and whistled.

“Fire!”

The cowboys bolted from their beds. Campers moved much more slowly, confused and disoriented. “What? What’s going on?”

“The wagon’s on fire,” Carly screamed and then wasted no more time. She rushed back to the campfire, grabbed the biggest cooking pot and raced to the creek.

Over the buzz of startled voices Luc yelled through the darkness, “Wet some saddle blankets.”

In the glow of the burning wagon she saw him battle the growing flames with a bedroll. By now the wranglers raced around, grabbing bedding and anything else that could be used to smother the flames.

Horses, unnerved by the scent of smoke and the commotion, whinnied and moved with restless fear. Cattle bawled.

Carly yanked horse blankets from atop saddles, shoved them into the kettle and filled it with creek water. For once she was glad for her size. The wet blankets and pot were heavy, but she lugged them back to the wagon.

As she stumbled into the circle of light, a hand reached out. Luc, his handsome face strained with effort and flushed from the heat. “I’ll take that.”

He handed off the wet blankets to the waiting wranglers, then went back to work. The slap of wet wool blended with the crackle of burning wood.

Luc seemed to be everywhere at once, calling out orders, organizing.

“Dirk, see to the fire in the grass. Jack, move those horses further back. Heck, give me a hand here. Everyone else, fill anything available with water.”

Yet he never stopped fighting the fire. He was a guest, just as she was, but he was closer than anyone to the burning wagon. For a royal raised in the lap of luxury, he showed no fear.

What if he got hurt? Fighting fire would not be on Count Broussard’s list of safe activities.

Luc should let the wranglers put out the flames. But telling him would do no good. Luc would do what he thought was right.

Arms aching, Carly carted more water from the creek. Just as she stepped into the fire-lit perimeter, Dirk came charging around the back of the wagon.

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