“You can’t be mine,” Aristos rasped, his gaze tracking her. “You want my list again? I don’t do relationships, Alex. My affairs are short-lived—commitment-free in nature. You are off-limits.”

“What if I did? Want that, I mean?”

His gaze narrowed. “You are a princess. Third in line to the throne, in case you’d forgotten. I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

“There’s no threat here,” she derided. “The only thing you’re protecting me from is you.”

“Damn right.”

She took a deep breath. Maybe the deepest she’d ever taken. Lifted her chin. “What you said last night…”

He gave her a suspicious look. “Which part would that be?”

“The incendiary part. I would…like that.”

His eyes widened. He set his glass down on the railing. “Are you trying to destroy my head?”

She shook her head. “I’m suggesting, as you said, that we do what we both want to do. Nobody needs to know.”

A long moment passed. “Just so we’re clear,” he ventured in a silky voice. “You’re suggesting we have an affair? Confined to this island?”

“Yes.”

Jennifer Hayward invites you into a world of…

Kingdoms & Crowns

Young royals in reckless pursuit of passion!

When a centuries-old battle between the kingdoms of Akathinia and Carnelia is reignited the nation’s young royals find themselves on the brink of war. But their kingdoms aren’t the only thing at stake…

Soon these young monarchs are facing an unexpected royal baby, the appearance of a lost princess and an alliance with the enemy.

Can love conquer all?

Find out in:

King Nikandros and Sofía Ramirez’s story

Carrying the King’s Pride March 2016

Princess Aleksandra and Aristos Nicolades’s story

Claiming the Royal Innocent May 2016

And look for:

King Kostas and Princess Stella’s story

Coming soon!

Claiming the
Royal Innocent
Jennifer Hayward

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER HAYWARD has been a fan of romance since filching her sister’s novels to escape her teenage angst. Her career in journalism and PR—including years of working alongside powerful, charismatic CEOs and travelling the world—has provided her with perfect fodder for the fast-paced, sexy stories she likes to write—always with a touch of humour. A native of Canada’s east coast, Jennifer lives in Toronto with her Viking husband and young Viking-in-training.

This one is for my brother, Andrew, and his unfailing belief in me in following my dream. It’s true—dreams aren’t too expensive to keep! xx

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Kingdoms & Crowns

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“THE COUNT AND Countess of Agiero.”

A soldier in ceremonial uniform announced the exquisitely dressed couple queued in front of Aleksandra Dimitriou in the foyer of the Akathinian royal palace ballroom, his booming voice with its perfect elocution sending her heart plunging to the marble floor. She had hoped arriving late for Princess Stella’s twenty-fifth birthday party would mean the introductions would have been long concluded.

But then again, what did she know? She had never attended a high society party before, let alone an official royal function. The blue silk gown she wore was rented from one of those designer dress services that mailed the couture creation to you in exchange for an exorbitant amount of money, her shoes were those of her fashionable friend Kira, her jewelry unearthed in a knockoff boutique in the city. In fact, not even the invitation belonged to her. She had stolen it with the intent of slipping in unnoticed.

The furor in her head, gathering momentum by the minute, suggested her ploy was about to be revealed to the hundreds of people gathered to celebrate the princess’s birthday. Not to mention the dozens of paparazzi who stood poised like a flock of vultures behind the stanchioned-off red carpet waiting for a money shot.

Her palms went sweaty. A shot of her in handcuffs, a royal intruder caught red-handed during a time of high security for the country, would be great fodder for them. She could just see the residents of her small, sleepy coastal village waking up to her face splashed across the front page of the daily newspaper. Picture them doing a double take, their bemusement quickly turning to horror...

Her heart pounded madly against her ribs. There was no way she was going to pull this off. She should turn around and go back to Stygos and forget she’d ever had this stupid, foolish need to know a piece of herself. To right a wrong that had long since been undoable.

But it was too late to back out now. The palace official was reaching for her blue and gold-embossed invitation, an expectant smile on his face. She handed it to him with frozen fingers. He checked his list. Frowned. Ran his finger over the names again, then looked up at her. “Lypamai, despoinis, but your name doesn’t seem to be on the list.”

Alex swallowed hard. Summoned composure from a place deep inside her she hadn’t even known existed. “I originally had to decline the invitation,” she said smoothly. “When I found out I would be in the country, I sent another note accepting.”

He procured another list, scanned it, consulted someone by radio, then nodded. “Kala. It’s fine. You’re on the original list.” He passed the invitation to the soldier with the booming voice and nodded for her to proceed. “Enjoy your evening.”

She pinned a smile on her lips, picked up the hem of her gown and moved toward the entrance to the ballroom.

“Kara Nicholson,” the soldier announced, his deep baritone seeming to hang on the air forever. Alex’s step faltered, a thin layer of perspiration breaking out on her brow as she waited for someone to point out that she was not Kara Nicholson. That she was a fraud.

The din of the crowd remained unchanged. The soldier gave her a curious look. Exhaling the breath she’d been holding, she propelled herself forward on legs that shook so badly it was hard to put one foot in front of the other. The powder room was her first priority. There, she restored her outward composure with her makeup compact. Inner composure, however, was somewhat more elusive.

That she and Kara, the American heiress who’d stayed in her family’s tourist hotel a few weeks ago, were both slim with dark hair and blue eyes had just saved her from certain disaster. It was Kara’s discarded invitation she’d picked out of the trash can to gain admittance to the party. Kara’s identity she’d assumed. But resembling the beautiful socialite and being in any way prepared to do what she’d come here to do, to mingle with the exclusive crowd Kara frequented, were two entirely different things.

You just have to fake it long enough to get this done. Jaw set, shoulders back, she made her way into the elegantly clad crowd that filled the magnificent sweeping ballroom, champagne flutes in their hands. The upper echelons of Akathinian society were in attendance to celebrate the princess’s birthday—assorted celebrities and a smattering of royalty from across Europe. The kind of people she checked into her hotel for a quiet, idyllic week where they wouldn’t be bothered, the best view in all of Akathinia offered from their seaside window. Not those she socialized with.

She plucked a glass of champagne off a waiter’s tray and moved deeper into the thick crowd, searching for a spot to locate her target. Taking a long sip of the delicious, clearly outrageously expensive bubbly, she swallowed, the champagne fizzling its way down to her stomach, where it spread a slow warmth through her. Exactly what she needed.

Securing a quiet corner from which she could survey the room, she tucked herself against a pillar and drank in her spectacular surroundings. Lit in the same blue and gold tones as the invitation, the richly appointed ballroom was a feast for the eye. The Akathinian royal crest was projected onto black marble floors, which looked as if they were threaded through with real gold vein. Massive antique chandeliers glittered from the ceiling, serving as a brilliant counterpoint for the dark accents in the room, while precious, larger-than-life paintings adorned walls that soared to impressive thirty-foot heights.

Her head spun at the opulence of it all. None of it seemed real. But then again, nothing had seemed real since her mother, a former lady-in-waiting to the elder Queen Amara, had broken a twenty-five-year silence with a bombshell that had blown her life apart.

Her father had not been an Akathinian businessman who had died before her birth. He was King Gregorios, the former monarch of this country, with whom her mother had carried out an extended affair before the queen discovered her betrayal and fired her.

Her hand trembled as she downed another swallow of champagne. That her mother, whom she’d considered above reproach, whose strength and courage symbolized everything that was good in the world, had indulged in a dangerous, illicit affair with the king, a married man, then manufactured a series of elaborate stories to paint a rosy view of her childhood, for whatever altruistic reasons she cared to offer, seemed inconceivable. Unimaginable.

And yet it was the truth. She had a father she’d never known. The siblings she’d longed for as a child, all of whom would have been lost to her if her mother hadn’t broken down and told her the truth.

A bright burst of laughter drew her gaze. Princess Stella, her half sister, clad in a dazzling silver gown, held court in the center of the room, a handful of handsome men arranged around her, vying for her attention. She looked every inch the Grecian goddess with her slim figure and sleek blond hair caught up in an elaborate twist. Every inch a princess.

How different would her life have been had her mother told her the truth? Would she have become a princess, glittering alongside her sophisticated elder sister? Would she never have known her quiet, idyllic life in Stygos?

A fist tightened in her chest. How her half siblings would receive her was yet to be determined. Her priority, however, was her father’s ill health, which had made tonight’s subterfuge necessary. A heart attack had sent King Gregorios back to the hospital, his absence tonight marked. She needed to meet him before he died. It was the only thing that had been clear in the confusion of the past few months.

She scanned the room, locating the young, strikingly handsome King Nikandros mingling with a group of guests, his wife, Sofía, by his side. Her brother.

Nikandros had ascended to the throne after his father’s initial heart attack during a difficult time for Akathinia, with its aggressive sister island Carnelia threatening to annex Akathinia back into the Catharian island group to which it had once belonged. Many feared the seventy-year-old Carnelian King Idas might finally have lost his mind, his recent mobilization of the Carnelian military suggesting a war might be on its way.

Thus the reason she had chosen tonight as her avenue to speak to the king. Securing an audience with him under any other circumstances would have been nearly impossible given the security that surrounded him and the demands on his time.

So tonight it was. She set her flute down on a waiter’s tray with a determined clink of crystal. Took another. The expensive vintage was boosting her confidence by the minute, easing the tightness in her chest as it filled her with its insidious warmth. After this glass, she’d work up the courage to do what she needed to do. To rock the royal family with a scandal at a time when it needed it the least.

* * *

Aristos Nicolades leaned against a column in the packed ballroom, watching the stunning brunette in the sexy blue gown toss back her second glass of champagne with a speed that suggested she needed courage of some sort.

For what? he wondered idly, studying the play of shimmering light as it highlighted every dip and curve of her petite, shapely figure. Considering she’d lied about who she was to gain admittance to the party, he’d thought it best to keep an eye on her.

He’d been behind her in the lineup to the ballroom, his flight from the United States delayed, making him almost an hour late for the party. His every desire had been to skip the event, go home, take a long, hot shower and sleep after a grueling week abroad. But considering the king had finally granted him a license to build the jewel in his crown, a new casino on the sparkling, glitterati-strewn Mediterranean island of Akathinia, giving the occasion a miss had not been an option.

Bemused when the blue-gowned angel had swanned up to the doors of the ballroom and announced herself as Kara Nicholson, he thought he’d been hallucinating after almost thirty-six hours without sleep. The Kara Nicholson he’d divested of her clothes before he’d taken her in a long, hot encounter in Vegas six months ago, the Kara Nicholson known to travel in Stella’s circles, was not the brunette standing in front of him.

With her near-angelic look—all big blue eyes and long, satiny dark hair—she hardly seemed the type to be one of Carnelia’s spies or, God forbid, worse. But nothing could be discounted in this time of tension—spies had been pinpointed; separatist factions had emerged—and considering that a satellite company of his was in charge of security tonight, he wasn’t taking any chances.

He studied the nerves the beautiful brunette was clearly fighting despite her attempt at outward composure. She had come alone, hadn’t attempted to talk to anyone, clearly knew no one here. The only person she had shown an interest in, other than the fleeting glances she’d been sending his way as an immediate attraction had sparked between them, had been the king. She had been inordinately interested in his whereabouts ever since she’d arrived.

It was possible she was simply one of those women who couldn’t seem to accept that King Nikandros was happily married. There were enough of them around. Perhaps a jilted ex-lover? It would fit with the lost look she had at the moment...the inherent aura of vulnerability that surrounded her.

She sensed his perusal. Turned her chin to meet his gaze. The confusion, the anxiety in her beautiful blue eyes, stoked his curiosity higher. Confusion that quickly morphed into the unmistakable interest he’d seen there before. He held her gaze. Sustained the connection. Electricity arced between them, a rosy pink staining her cheeks.

Dipping her chin, she broke the contact first in one of those shy gestures that didn’t seem to fit with the sexy image. A plus B plus C wasn’t adding up.

His curiosity got the better of him. Downing his last swallow of scotch, he set the glass on a table and headed toward her. He’d played games he’d enjoyed far less than the one he was playing now. This could prove highly enjoyable.

* * *

Thee mou. He was headed over here.

Alex swallowed hard, wondering what on earth she was doing. She was here to talk to her father, to know him before he died, not flirt with the most strikingly good-looking male she’d ever seen, in a tuxedo or out of one. Yet he had been staring at her, making no effort to hide his interest. Difficult to ignore, particularly since every time she worked up the courage to speak to King Nikandros, he had moved on to another group.

Meanwhile, doubts were piling up about whether it had been an extremely bad idea to choose this party as the venue for her mission as the king glittered as an untouchable force. Would her father even want to see her? Would he even care she existed? Would he toss her out without acknowledging her?

Her ruminations were interrupted by the scent of expensive aftershave, followed by the man who wore it. He was tall, well over six feet, his height backed up by the lean, hard-packed muscle that covered every inch of him. With his dark-as-sin eyes and designer stubble, he made every other man in the room look effeminate in comparison.

Undeniably intimidating. Insanely attractive.

“I was standing over there wondering why a beautiful woman finds herself alone throwing back champagne like water.” The rich, velvety undertone to his voice stoked every nerve ending to full attention. “Rather than allow my imagination to conjure up all sorts of creative possibilities, I thought I would simply come over and ask.”

Her eyes slid to her empty glass. “It’s only my second.”

“In rapid succession.” He swept his dark gaze over her in a perusal that scorched her skin. “To provide courage perhaps?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulders. “Why would I need courage?”

His eyes glittered with amusement. “You tell me. You are here alone. Perhaps that makes you feel uncomfortable?”

Very. She lifted a shoulder in what she hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “I have business to attend to. It’s not so much a social occasion for me.”

“Business at a birthday party? How distasteful.”

“A personal matter.”

He inclined his head. “Perhaps you could combine your personal matter with a little...pleasure. I find myself at loose ends.”

She suspected this man hadn’t spent one second of his life at loose ends, but his sexy drawl had the intended effect, tangling her up inside.

“You look quite comfortable at loose ends.”

“I prefer to find a...diversion. And you,” he said, holding her gaze, “are the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Her stomach flip-flopped, a wave of betraying heat rising from her chest to fill her cheeks. “Hardly true. The princess is hosting, after all.”

“She has a layer of ice that surrounds her. You do not.”

Alex swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat, finding herself unable to pull her gaze away from his smoky, sexy one. “I’m afraid I’m not available as a diversion.”

“Because you are here for someone else?”

“Because I really must see who I need to see, then go.”

“One dance.” He held out a lean-fingered, bronzed hand. “Then you can get on with your business.”

He made it seem rude, impolite to refuse. Over his shoulder, she could see the king and queen still immersed in conversation. Perhaps it would be better to say yes to a dance rather than stand around at loose ends looking painfully out of place as she clearly had been.

“All right,” she said, placing her palm in his much larger one. “I would love to.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Aristos,” he drawled. “And you are...?”

Her brain froze, her clear thinking not aided by the two glasses of champagne she’d consumed. “Kara,” she said after a pause. Better to continue the facade.

Not that it was easy to keep anything straight in her head with the energy that pulsed between them, moving from his fingers through her body until she was buzzing with the intensity of it.

His tall, impressive physique parted the crowds easily as he led her toward the dance floor, where a live band was playing a slow, sexy jazz number.

Aristos laced his fingers through hers, slid his arm around her waist and pulled her into a close hold that had her pulse racing. His smooth, skillful steps as he directed her around the packed space surprised her for such a solidly built male.

“So,” he said, leveling his gaze on her face, “how do you know the princess?”

Her stomach seized. A natural question, she told herself. Relax.

“We’re friends,” she said, repeating what Kara had told her. “We’re on a few of the same charitable boards.”

He inclined his head. “And what do you do when you aren’t tending to these...charitable endeavors?”

She blinked. Thought furiously. But a few scattered conversations with Kara hadn’t provided that depth of information. “Mostly that,” she murmured awkwardly. “My father has a large philanthropic portfolio. He needs the help.”

“And where is home?”

“Texas,” she said faintly, as if that would make up for her lack of a drawl.

“Funny, you don’t sound like a Southerner.”

Her mouth went even drier. Diavole, but this had been a bad idea. “I think I’ve lost my accent,” she prevaricated. “I travel so much I’ve become somewhat...international.”

His mouth twisted. “I get that one hundred percent. It’s the same with me.” His hand tightened around hers as he spun her in a smooth circle. “Texas is a big state. Which part?”

She had no idea. “Dallas,” she said, guessing.

“The home of J.R. Ewing...”

She smiled a tight smile. “The very same. And you?” she asked, attempting to regain control of the conversation. “How do you know Stella?”

“I’m a business partner of the king.”

Oh, no. Not good. Swallowing her panic, she lifted her gaze to his. “What business would that be?”

“Hotels and casinos. A bit of this, a bit of that.”

She thought that fit perfectly with his dark, edgy vibe. “That must be a very...interesting world.”

His mouth quirked. “You don’t sound so sure about that.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I’m not a gambler. It seems to me you prey on the vulnerable. Take unsuspecting people’s money.”

“Those who walk into a casino do so of their own volition.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but do they always know their limits?”

“They should. I find there is an epidemic of late of people who have no sense of personal responsibility. We are all responsible for our own actions.”

Yes, she agreed silently, hysteria biting at the edges of her composure. That concept was top of mind at the moment.

“Perhaps true,” she conceded. “Although I’m not sure it’s a fair comparison. I’m an idealist. I think we all need to be looking out for the greater good.”

“A dying breed,” he said softly, his dark gaze resting on her face. “Idealists...”

He left it at that. She shut up before she said something she shouldn’t. She should have protested when he tugged her closer so his tall, muscular body brushed against hers, his chin resting atop her head. But when there was no talking involved, there was no danger in exposing herself.

She couldn’t resist allowing herself to melt into all that strength, just for a moment, of course, until the dance was over. It felt hedonistically good, frankly exciting to be in his arms, and when would she ever have another chance to meet a man like him? Stunning-looking members of the opposite sex were a precious commodity in Stygos. She’d known all of them since childhood.

The plaintive, haunting notes of the saxophone were beautiful. The champagne had kicked in full force now, leaving in its wake a heady buzzing feeling that instilled a confidence in her she hadn’t had before. It made the dangerous attraction she felt toward the man holding her even more powerful. Made her even more aware of the strong column of his thighs as they pressed against her, driving home how powerfully built he was. How the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with the heady male musk of him was doing crazy things to her insides...

The warmth of his hand splayed at her waist burned her skin like a brand through the thin silk of her dress. It made her wonder what it would be like to be touched by him. Truly touched by him.

Her champagne-clouded brain was floating in a sea of pheromones when the song came to an end. She moved to extract her fingers from his, but he tightened his hold. “One more.”

She should have ended it right there. But it was far too tempting to say yes. A glance over his shoulder revealed the king still deep in conversation. How harmful was one more dance?

He pulled her closer, their bodies perfectly aligning as they moved to the sultry notes of the song. It was an inappropriate hold, she knew, the heat of him moving through her like the most potent of caresses, his hand drifting lower to lie against the small of her back. But her sensible side seemed to have deserted her. He was the dark, mysterious hero of her favorite novels come to life, with a dangerous, presumptive twist that was impossible to resist.

A couple more minutes and she’d go.

She thought maybe a third song had come and gone when she finally pulled her head from where it was nestled under his chin and realized they had gradually worked their way from the couples dancing along the edge of the ballroom to the shadows of the small terrace that led off it.

She looked up into the mesmerizing heat of his black gaze, suddenly aware of exactly where this was going. “I told you I’m not interested in being a diversion,” she reminded him a little too breathlessly.

“No?” he said derisively, bending his head toward her. “Your signals are saying the contrary.” Sliding his fingers around her jaw, he captured her lips in a kiss unlike any she’d had before. Cajoling and demanding her acquiescence all at the same time, it was sensual, playful and masterful, enticing her to respond to his seductive expertise.

Her lips clung to his, helpless to resist his slow, intoxicating kisses. She swayed closer to him, her hand settling on his waist. He drew her into his warmth, the proximity of their bodies sending a shiver through her.

He lifted his lips from hers, their breath mingling. “Open your mouth, angel.”

She hadn’t been aware she was denying him anything. Obeying his command, she allowed his firm, beautiful mouth to part hers in a hot, languorous exploration she felt right down to her toes.

Her sigh split the air. He moved his hands down to her hips and shaped her buttocks, drawing her even closer to him until their bodies were molded together without a centimeter between them. She could feel the hard heat of him burning against the juncture of her thighs, as impressive as the rest of him. It made her knees weak.

“Aristos,” she gasped, pulling her mouth from his. “Stop.”

Satisfaction laced his gaze as she stared up at him, the supreme control she found there snapping her out of her haze. She put a palm against his chest to put some distance between them, but the hand he held at the small of her back kept her where she was. He slid it down over her buttock to wrap around her thigh.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, pushing harder against the rock-solid wall of his chest to no avail.

“Checking for weapons.”

“Weapons?” Her brain struggled to compute. “Why would I be carrying weapons?”

He ran his palm over her other buttock and down the back of her thigh in a leisurely exploration that brought a heated wave to her cheeks. “Maybe you should tell me, Kara.”

The edge to his voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He knows. Had known all this time.

She pushed a hand against his chest and this time he released her, setting her away from him. She bit down into her lip. Hard. “You know I’m not Kara.”

He raked his gaze over her face. “Correct, angel. So maybe you’d care to tell me what you’re doing here. And why you impersonated Kara Nicholson to get in.”

A buzzing sound filled her ears. “How did you know?”

“Well, let’s see... Your accent, for starters. Second, Kara is from Houston, not Dallas. And finally, I happen to know Kara. Intimately. And you are not her.”

Thee mou. She closed her eyes, cheeks flaming. He and Kara Nicholson were lovers. How could she have ever thought she’d get away with this?

She opened her eyes. “You were behind me in line. Why didn’t you call me out then?”

“I wanted to see what your intentions were.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“We have a country trying to draw us into a war, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Disbelief sank through her. “You think I’m a spy? An assassin?”

“I think when anyone enters an official royal engagement under false pretenses, it needs to be investigated.”

“So you thought you’d appoint yourself investigator? Maul me while you’re at it? Make a game of it?”

“I wouldn’t call it mauling. You were as into that as I was. And as for my interest in you, it’s my security team the palace is using tonight. A side business of mine, angel, along with my big, bad casinos. I wasn’t about to set you loose with the king in the room.”

She clenched her hands at her sides, her gaze fixed on his. “You are going to regret this.”

An amused glimmer filled his eyes. “Really? Do tell. My guess from the way you’ve been eyeing the king is that you’re an ex-lover. A jilted one, perhaps... You don’t seem—how should I put it?—off your rocker, so I’m assuming you’ve come with some misguided belief he’ll take a lover. I hate to break it to you, but he’s madly in love with his wife. It isn’t going to happen.”

A jilted lover? She gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve seen the women who throw themselves at the king. They crash parties to meet him. They go to ridiculous lengths to get his attention. So even though you,” he said, stripping the clothes from her with a look that singed her skin, “are undoubtedly every man’s type, this was a wasted escapade.”

Fury swelled up inside her. “I came tonight because I need to speak to the king about a personal matter. Just like I said earlier.”

“Why do it under false pretenses?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“That’s my business.”

“I’m afraid it’s mine if you don’t want me to have you handcuffed and hauled out of here right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Her heart surged painfully against her chest. Pressing her hands to her face, she paced to the other side of the terrace. “I can’t tell you why. I admit my methods for getting here were unconventional, but they were necessary given the security surrounding the king. I would never have gotten an audience.”

“That security is in place for a good reason.”

“Yes,” she said, turning around. “It is.” She took a deep breath. Fixed him with an imploring look. “I promise you it’s imperative I speak to the king. In fact, if you would just take me to him right now, I would highly appreciate it.”

“Not happening until you tell me who you are and what your business is.”

“I can’t.”

“Kala.” He spun on his heel and stalked toward the door.

“Aristos, stop.”

He turned around. “No one knows this,” she said. “You can’t say anything to anyone.”

“Spit it out,” he growled.

She lifted her chin. “My name is Aleksandra Dimitriou. The king is my half brother.”

CHAPTER TWO

ARISTOS’S MOUTH WENT SLACK. Nikandros’s half sister. He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

“Can you please,” he said deliberately, “repeat that?”

Aleksandra, if that was even her right name, rubbed a hand against her temple. “My mother, Melaina, was Queen Amara’s lady-in-waiting. She had an affair with King Gregorios during her tenure at the palace. The queen knew about her husband’s indiscretions, but when she discovered the affair with my mother, it was one step too far. She fired her. No one knew my mother was pregnant. She went home to her village and raised me by herself.”

He blinked. “Why keep it a secret? By Akathinian law, you would have been a royal.”

“My mother knew I would be taken away from her if anyone found out. She didn’t want that life for me. She told everyone, including me, that my father was an Akathinian businessman she’d met while she worked at the palace who was killed in a car accident before I was born. It wasn’t until the king had his heart attack that I learned the truth.”

Thee mou. His head spun. The queen’s lady-in-waiting. The ultimate betrayal.

It was well-known that King Gregorios had indulged in countless affairs. But a child kept secret this long? Born to the queen’s most trusted aide? If true, it was a scandal that would put all before it to shame.

He scrutinized the woman in front of him. Was she telling the truth? Her skin was pale beneath her olive-toned complexion, the vulnerability that emanated from her a quality he didn’t think could be manufactured. Nor did he think she was a threat to anyone. She was not a practiced liar, that was clear. But he had learned long ago never to trust first impressions. Particularly when it came to a woman—the most deceptive creature on the face of the earth. One who wanted an audience with the king.

It hit him then, that same feeling of familiarity he’d experienced from the first moment he’d seen her. Those eyes... That particular shade of blue belonged to only one bloodline he knew. They were Constantinides blue. It was like looking at Nikandros and Stella.

His blood ran cold. She was telling the truth.

Aleksandra pressed her lips together. “I told you you were going to regret doing that.”

He closed his eyes. For once in his life, he did. He and the king had just gotten their relationship on a solid footing after an adversarial start. This he didn’t need.

“Just because you have the Constantinides eyes, as rare as they are, doesn’t mean your story is true,” he said roughly. “It will need to be verified, as I’m sure you will appreciate. You can understand my suspicions.”

Her eyes flashed. “Your suspicions, yes, but not your tactics.”

“Like I said, it took two to make that kiss.”

That shut her up. He paced to the edge of the terrace, his brain working furiously. They were smack in the middle of a royal function with every paparazzo camera, gossip and royal watcher in the country in their midst. This could not get out before it was verified and the ramifications considered. But that was the king’s job—not his.

He closed the distance between them. “What were your intentions coming here tonight? What do you want from the king?”

“I want to see my father. Talk to him. That’s all.”

He studied her for a long moment. Cursed under his breath and pulled his mobile phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. A phone call to the man in charge of security brought a detail in a dark suit out to the terrace.

“This is how this is going to go,” he said to Aleksandra. “You are going to stay here with him. You do not move from here, you do not talk to anyone and if you do, he will restrain you. Understood?”

Her eyes widened, skin paling. “Yes.”

She looked as if a good gust of wind might blow her over. Intensely vulnerable. His heart contracted despite his effort to stay distanced from the explosive situation unfolding in front of him. It had taken an immense amount of courage for her to come here and do what she’d done. He could only imagine how terrified she felt.

Closing the gap between them, he slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze up to his. “The king is a good man. You have nothing to fear.”

He, on the other hand, did, if she spilled what had just happened to Nikandros.

* * *

Alex’s heart thudded painfully beneath her ribs as her rather ominous-looking security detail nodded at her to precede him into the room. She stepped inside the palace library, its elegant chandeliers and wall sconces illuminating shelf upon shelf of precious volumes.

With her voracious passion for literature, the shelves might have stolen her attention had it not been fixed on the man who stood at the far end of the room looking out the windows, hands buried in his pockets.

She stood there, fingers biting into her tiny silk clutch as the king turned around and studied her, his expression intent. His eyes widened imperceptively, then that perfectly controlled countenance that made him vastly intimidating resumed its tenure.

He turned to Aristos. “Efharisto.”

Aristos nodded and headed for the door. She fought the crazy urge to beg him to stay—he who had threatened to put her in handcuffs and have her tossed out—but after a long glance at her that seemed to say keep your head up, you can do this, he left, the door clicking quietly shut behind him.

The king nodded at the two leather chairs beside the window. “Please. Sit.”

She obeyed, her weak knees only too happy to find a resting place. The king sat down opposite her. All at once, she was struck by how much they looked alike. The bright blue eyes, high cheekbones, dark ebony hair her brother wore short and cropped.

“You are Melaina’s daughter.”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat as the response came out faint, raspy. “You knew her?”

“I was only eight when she left, but yes, I remember her. My mother and she were very close.”

Until my mother had an affair with your father and was thrown out of the palace.

“Aristos has filled me in on your conversation. On your claim that my father is your father.”

She lifted her chin. “It isn’t a claim. He is.”

“Forgive me,” he said bluntly, “if I cannot accept that as fact. For over two decades your mother has kept you a secret, but now when my father is nearly in his grave, she’s seen fit to speak out. Why?”

“She was afraid I would be taken from her. She didn’t want my life marked by her mistake. She thought I would be better off with her, rather than carry the stain of my illegitimacy. But your father’s heart attack hit her hard. I think she realized she had made a mistake in denying me my birthright.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “So you came here tonight to...”

“Know my father. To know you and Stella. I—” Her gaze held his vivid blue one. “I don’t have any siblings. I don’t want anything else. I have a life in Stygos that I love.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You can’t be so naive as to think everything will stay the same if it’s confirmed you are a Constantinides. You will be of royal blood. Third in line to the throne.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want any of that. I am not so naive as to think I would be welcomed into this family given the nature of my birth.”

The king’s eyes flickered. “There is a...complexity to the situation. But if you are telling the truth, the blood that runs through your veins cannot be denied. It must be dealt with. Acknowledged. But that is dependent upon us having the facts. A DNA test will need to be performed.”

She nodded. Had assumed as much would be required. Knew she couldn’t have expected more. So why did her insides sting so much?

The king stood up. “I must get back to my guests. You’ll understand, given the need for security at the moment, if I have you escorted to a suite where you will remain for the evening. In the morning, we will address this.”

“Of course.” She got to her feet.

* * *

The beautifully appointed suite she was shown to at the back of the palace overlooked the formal gardens. It was done in gold and a soft moss green, the shimmery, wispy fabrics of the sweeping brocade curtains and the romantic overlay of the big canopy bed like something straight out of one of the fairy tales she’d devoured as a child.

When a maid showed up minutes later with a beautiful silk nightgown and inquired if she needed anything else, Alex fought back the hot tears that gathered in her eyes. She’d accomplished what she’d come here to do. She would see her father. But what she wanted in this moment was for her brother to have believed her.

She assured the maid she had everything she needed. Unable to sleep, she wandered out onto the terrace. The band, whose lazy serenade had been drifting through the open windows of the ballroom, stopped playing. Then there was only the buzz of the cicadas as she contemplated row after row of perfectly tended, riotous blooms in the floodlit gardens.

A quiet knock reached her from inside the suite. Frowning, wondering who it could be at this late hour, she padded inside and inched the door open. Standing in the dimly lit corridor stood the princess, still clad in her silver gown.

“I had to come.”

Alex stared at her sister. The princess’s startling blue eyes were counterbalanced by a wide mouth and the high cheekbones that were a signature of her mother’s aristocratic haughtiness. Arresting rather than classically beautiful, Stella stared back at her, all of her earlier poise stripped away, her carefully applied dramatic makeup standing out in stark contrast against the pallor of her skin.

Her quick intake of breath was audible. “Thee mou, but you two look alike.”

“Who?”

“You and Nik.”

Alex swallowed hard, a tightness gripping her chest. Her legs felt unsteady, consumed by the emotion of the day, as if one more blow would fell them. She forced herself to move past it, stepping back to allow her sister in.

Stella slipped inside and shut the door. “The party just finished. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“I expect not.”

They regarded each other in silence, wariness and shock filling the air between them. She searched her sister’s gaze for the mistrust her brother had displayed, finding only bemusement and curiosity in return.

“The king told you I was here?”

“Of course not.” The princess’s lips curved in a wry smile. “At least not willingly. Nik is too protective for that. I overheard him and Aristos talking.”

Her lashes lowered. “He is suspicious of me.”

“My brother has to be cautious. He has a million grenades being lobbed at him every day with King Idas’s descent into lunacy.”

Alex bit her lip, chewing uncertainly on flesh she’d already made raw. “You don’t doubt my story?”

“When you look more like Nik’s sister than I do?” The princess shook her head. “My father’s affair with your mother was common knowledge. I think we’ve all lived with the possibility that something like this might result from his indiscretions. Although for it to happen now is a bit...startling.”

“I didn’t know. I only found out a few weeks ago.”

“Nik told me.” The princess regarded her silently. “I hope you are not disappointed. My father is an imperfect man. A great king, but an imperfect man. Manage your expectations. Do not expect him to be warm and fuzzy.”

“I thought my father was dead,” Alex said quietly. “I’m not sure what I’m expecting.”

The princess’s golden-tipped lashes fanned her cheeks. “I can’t imagine how you must feel. To find this out now.”

Alex exhaled an unsteady breath. “Confused. Bewildered. I’m angry my mother lied to me. I feel...betrayed. And yet I know she did it for the right reasons. She wanted to protect me. How can I be angry about that?”

“Easily.” Stella waved a hand around them. “She denied you this. Your birthright.”

“Is it?” A vision of her beautiful, serene village filled her head. “I love my life in Stygos.”

“You are a royal,” Stella countered. “A Constantinides. You could have had the world at your fingertips. Instead she took that away from you.”

Had she? Or had her mother given her the safe, loved existence she’d always known?

“Perhaps it’s about destiny,” Alex said. “Maybe mine was to live the life I have.”

“Perhaps.” A glimmer filled the princess’s eyes. “The life of a royal has its challenges. I will be the first to admit that.”

The reticence in her sister’s voice stirred her curiosity. “But the benefits outweigh the challenges?”

“I’m not sure that’s an analysis I can make.” Stella’s lips firmed. “Do I think it’s my destiny to be where I am? Yes. Would I have chosen it if given the choice? That is the million-dollar question.”

It certainly was. The cicadas buzzed their musical song as a silence stretched between them. Stella set a probing gaze on her. “I saw you dancing with Aristos.”

Heat rose to stain her cheeks. She had been hoping that part of the evening would go unnoticed. Her inappropriate behavior had been uncharacteristic for her, foolish, particularly damning in light of her mother’s scandalous reputation.

“It was a mistake,” she said quietly. “I was nervous. I’d had a couple of glasses of champagne...”

“Aristos has that effect on women.” The princess’s mouth twisted. “A word of warning. He takes what he wants until you are too blind to see the danger. Before you know it, you’re hooked. Then he turns you loose.”

She was clearly speaking from experience. Alex set her jaw resolutely. “It’s never happening again. After I talk to my father, I’m going home.”

The princess regarded her silently. “I just met my sister,” she said softly. “I find I quite like the idea of having one. It would be a shame to lose her so quickly.”

A throb consumed her chest. It grew with every breath, threatening to bubble over into an emotion too big to contain. Stella seemed to sense it, the thread that was close to breaking inside her. She stepped toward the door. “It’s late. We can talk in the morning. Better you get some sleep so you have a clear head as all of this unfolds.”

And then she was gone, her exotic perfume wafting through the air. Alex’s mouth trembled as she shut the door. She stood, leaning against it, every muscle, fiber, of her body shredded, spent.

As all of this unfolds. She was terribly afraid of the chain of events she had set into play tonight. A force she couldn’t retrieve. That in needing to know her father, by taking a risk that was so totally outside of her nature, she had not only stepped outside her safe little world in Stygos, but entered one that could consume her. A world her mother had done everything she could to protect her from.

CHAPTER THREE

TWO DAYS PASSED, and with them Alex’s premonition came true. As the blood test undertaken by the royal physician was rushed through the requisite channels, rumors of her presence spread through the palace in a flurry of gossip only a royal household could induce.

By the time the results of the test were delivered to the palace, confirming that Alex was indeed King Gregorios’s daughter, the gossip had spilled to the press, who were demanding confirmation.

Nikandros made it clear they could not wait long in issuing a statement from the press office confirming her as a Constantinides. The longer they waited, the more time the press had to speculate on the story, something the family didn’t need as the country fretted about a coming confrontation with its sister island.

It was with this daunting scenario in place that Alex met her father for the first time. Accompanied by Stella to his suite in the west wing of the palace where the king was convalescing, they were told Queen Amara was out for the day. Alex had the distinct impression she was avoiding her as the scandal she was.

Propped up against a pile of pillows, his leathery olive skin lined and craggy from almost four decades of rule, her father was pale beneath his swarthy complexion, his abundant shock of white hair looking out of place on a man who was clearly fighting what might be his last battle.

Stella left. Frozen with indecision, Alex stood in the center of the room. The king opened his eyes, directing a brilliant beam of Constantinides blue at her. “Come. Sit.”

She forced herself to move, perching on the chair drawn up beside the bed. Ruthless, arrogantly sure of his rule, beloved by his people, perhaps one of the last of an impenetrably powerful group of monarchs, her father was vastly intimidating.

He scoured her face. “You look like your mother.”

She nodded. Cleared her constricted throat. “We are very much alike. In looks and disposition.”

“How is she?”

“She is fine. We run a hotel, my family. It does well.”

The king nodded. Contemplated her silently. “You are a Constantinides. As Nikandros will have told you, that gives you royal status. A place in this family.”

“Yes.” She drew a deep breath. “That’s not why I’m here. I came to see you. To know my brother and sister. Not to cause upheaval.”

His eyes darkened, a hint of emotion entering his gaze for the first time. “Upheaval there will be. Many mistakes have been made on all sides.” He lifted a hand. “I am not long for this world, as you can see, so it will not be up to me to right my wrongs. My wife will come to terms with this. It is you, Aleksandra, who must step up and claim your rightful place in this family.”

Her hands, clasped together in her lap, tightened their grip, nails digging into her flesh. No outpouring of warmth from this man. No declarations of love for his own flesh and blood. No regret he hadn’t been there for her...

Stella had been right. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. And yet she had.

Knowing her father was alive had instilled a sense of longing in her. To have that illusion her mother had painted for her, that of a father who’d be excited at the thought of her. Perhaps not the one who would have taken her fishing, who would have taught her about boys, because that was not who this man was to her. Perhaps one with whom she could have forged a more mature bond. One who would have considered her a gift he’d never known he had.

It knocked the wind out of her, the hope. A dull, dead throb pushed its way through her.

“Did you love her?” she rasped, needing to know if her mother’s feelings had ever been returned. Needing to salvage something from this.

The king fixed her with that steely blue gaze. “I cared about your mother, but no, I did not love her. A king’s priority is to the state. There is no room for anything else.”

She could have begged to differ, because clearly her brother was very much in love with his wife, but the frozen feeling invading her, siphoning off the emotion that threatened to corrode her insides, made it impossible to speak. Buffered her from more pain.

She had come for answers and she had gotten them. Perhaps not the ones she’d wanted, but answers nonetheless.

* * *

Alex spent the rest of the day attempting to wrap her head around the decision she had to make, the media circus going on outside the palace walls making her imminent decision a necessary one.

The decision should have been easy, because she’d never wanted to be a princess. Her visit with her father had been desperately disappointing. Her loyalty lay with the promise she’d made to her mother and the hotel they ran. No one could force her to become a royal, but the fact that she was third in line to the throne wasn’t a minor detail she could ignore.

What played a larger role in her decision-making were her brother and sister. Now that she’d met her siblings, it was hard to think of walking away from them. But what did she know of being a royal? A princess? It was perhaps the most important question of all, one only Stella could answer.

She pulled her sister aside before dinner and picked her brain. Was life as a princess the endless round of royal engagements and charitable commitments that it looked from the outside, or was there more to it? Would she have any freedom to chart her course, or would it all be decided for her?

Stella answered honestly, which seemed to be her default setting. Yes, it was much as she’d described. But there was an opportunity to own the role, as she herself had proven.

Armed with the full scope of Stella’s perspective, not that it cleared her confusion much, she and her sister joined her family for a predinner drink. Nik and Sofía were already enjoying a cocktail, minus two-month-old Theo, their infant son, who was with his nanny. Queen Amara walked into the salon just as the butler handed Alex a glass of wine. All eyes focused on the elder queen as she made her way toward Alex. Breath stalling in her throat, she dropped into a quick curtsy, entirely forgetting Stella’s instruction that it wasn’t necessary.

The elder queen waved it off with a flick of her hand. “You are a member of this family now.”

Am I? I haven’t made that decision yet. Her brain rifled through safe things to say. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”

The queen inclined her head. “Amara will be fine.”

The cocktail hour seemed stilted and forced compared with the previous night. When they sat down to dinner, Alex was thrilled to have a knife and fork to devote her attention to.

“When will you be announced as princess?” Queen Amara directed her cool green gaze at Alex. “I would expect soon, given the throngs of media driving us all mad.”

“I—” Alex put down her fork and knife. “I haven’t actually decided yet what I’m going to do.”

Queen Amara lifted a brow. “What do you mean, decide? You are third in line to the throne.”

“I have a life.” Alex lifted her chin. “My mother and I run a hotel together.”

“You are a royal. There is no decision to be made. Duty says you take your place as an heir to this country.”

Her mouth tightened. “My duty,” she said, “is to my mother and the business we have built together.”

Silence fell over the table. “This is all a great deal for Aleksandra to take in,” Nik interjected smoothly. “Of course we hope she stays. She is family.”

Her stomach tightened at the warmth in her brother’s gaze. It was as if he’d been withholding emotion until it was safe to express it. It unraveled something inside her, an almost unbearably bittersweet swell consuming her chest. She picked up her water glass and drank, giving in to the impossibility of eating.

By the time the meal mercifully came to an end, she felt raw in her skin.

Nik headed off to a meeting in his palace office, Sofía upstairs to bathe Theo, Stella out for a drink with a friend. After a call home, an emotional conversation in which her infinitely wise mother told her she needed to do what was right for her, her voice breaking as she did, Alex curled up in the library to think. Process.

But when even that peaceful setting felt too stifling to think, she headed for the magnificent palace gardens instead. If she was going to find a clear head, it would be there.

* * *

Aristos emerged from his second visit to the palace in under a week with a strong sense of foreboding that Akathinia had yet to see its most trying times. The king had requested the unusual after-dinner meeting to inform him he’d called all his troops up for active duty after Carnelia had summoned its own reservists, signaling a possible imminent aggression by Akathinia’s sister island.

Nikandros had requested he release the rest of the financial commitment he had made to the armed forces to enable the country to protect itself, to which he had agreed.

His head mired in what this would mean for his casino, a potentially devastating delay in breaking ground next month looming, he headed for the front doors of the palace. He was almost there when he saw an undeniably eye-catching female in a white dress headed across the foyer in the opposite direction. Aleksandra. He would have recognized that sweet derriere anywhere.

He couldn’t deny he’d been wondering how she was. The apprehension in her eyes when he’d walked out of the library the night of the ball had been playing on his mind. Why that was, why he felt in any way protective toward her, was a mystery to him. Out of sight, out of mind wasn’t a cliché in his world; it was how he lived his life.

If you didn’t invest in people, it was impossible for them to disappoint you. For you to disappoint them.

His step faltered on the gleaming marble floor. Don’t do it, Aristos. You already crossed the line with her once. You have far too much on your plate already. If the $2.5 billion Akathinian hotel and casino didn’t get off the ground, his personal investment went down the drain with it, a loss that could threaten his company’s existence.

Why he then found himself changing direction and heading toward the back of the palace was anyone’s guess. Aleksandra had been headed toward the gardens. He chose the path toward the spectacular fountains and pool at the center of the sprawling botanical extravaganza and found her perched on the wide lip of the fountain, looking like something out of an Impressionist painting.

Wearing a simple white summer dress that left her tanned legs bare, her silky dark hair caught up in a high ponytail, her full mouth pursed as she contemplated what appeared to be a significant issue, she looked good enough to eat. Undeniably edible to his far-too-jaded palate. And yes, this, he decided, had been a big mistake.

Too late, however, as she looked up at him, blue eyes widening. “Aristos.”

“Sit,” he said as she scrambled to her feet, brushing off the back of her dress. Dumping his jacket on the edge of the fountain, he sat down beside her. Noted the distance she put between them as she returned to her perch with an amused pull of his mouth.

She slid him a wary look from beneath dark lashes. “Overseeing your security again?”

“Meeting with the king. I saw you on the way out. I thought I’d check to see how you’re doing.”

“You who hunted me down, seduced me to find out what I was up to, then threatened to put me in handcuffs?”

His amusement intensified. She was embarrassed about what had happened between them. About the undeniable chemistry they shared...

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he drawled. “I kissed you because you are one hundred percent my type, angel. Petite brunettes with insane curves do it for me. Seducing you would have required more privacy than we had. Although I am not against a bit of voyeurism to add some spice to a sexual encounter, a palace party would not have been the occasion I’d have chosen.”

Her mouth went slack. “You would not have had the chance, regardless.”

He raked his gaze over her pink cheeks, ramrod-straight spine, the faint dip of cleavage the neckline of her dress revealed. The flush staining her chest. The thin material did little to hide the peaks of her breasts thrusting against the material, hard delectable buttons he knew would be a rosy slice of heaven. All signs of a very obvious sexual attraction between them.

“No?” he challenged silkily. “When was the last time you let a man put his hands on you like that?”

She shut her mouth and kept it shut this time. He reached out and ran the pad of his thumb down her cheek, her silky soft skin hot to the touch. “Just for the record, I am disappointed, Princess. Your little bombshell that’s rocking the country has put you on the endangered species list. Not to be touched under any circumstance. Unfortunate, when that kiss proved just how spectacular we would be together.”

* * *

Alex hauled in a breath, her insides collapsing into a pool of molten heat. She knew she should be saying something smart back to this unholy man who appeared to say and do anything he deigned, but she was too busy imagining what it would be like to be seduced by him in the true sense of the word. Hot, forbidden, unbearably exciting.

He was insufferable, had done a job on her sister, who refused to admit it, and still, she couldn’t deny she was disappointed, too.

She pulled her gaze away from the dark vortex it was sinking into. Lifted her chin. “Stella isn’t petite and curvy.”

His gaze narrowed. “Exchanging notes, you two?”

“She saw us.”

“We were like oil and water.” He lifted a shoulder. “It was a mutual decision.”

She gave him a long look. “Is there a woman on earth you haven’t taken to bed?”

“Dozens,” he drawled. “Too bad you’ll be one of them.”

She blinked. “Wow. Just wow.”

He threw her the most charming of smiles. “I did come out here to see how the meeting with your father went.”

She considered him. He looked sincere. “It was...fine.”

“Fine?”

“I wasn’t expecting an outpouring of affection.”

“So what did you get?”

She hesitated, unsure if she should be sharing this with him. He spread his hands wide. “The king trusts me with his military secrets...”

“He was aloof,” she said. “Abrupt. He said he cared for my mother but never loved her. That there is no room for love when you are married to the state.”

“It’s a tough job,” Aristos offered. “Your life can’t be your own.”

She was sure that was true. “My mother painted me a rosy picture,” she said in response to his continued study. “She led me to believe she and my father were very much in love, to protect me I know, but I think I would have preferred the truth.”

“Love is a concept we’ve all been trained to believe in. It gives us false expectations of our relationships, convinces us monogamy, a lifelong, eternal love, is the norm, when in fact it isn’t. Human biology, the study of other animals, tells us that. And yet we continue to aspire to it because we think it’s the right thing to do. The golden ideal.”

She absorbed the depth of his cynicism. “So you don’t believe love exists?”

“No, I don’t. I think love is actually sexual attraction disguised as something deeper. When that fades, as it always does as evolutionary history has proven, people drift apart.”

She didn’t want to believe that was true. Didn’t want to let go of her idealism so easily. For if the king of England was willing to abdicate for Wallis Simpson, didn’t true love have to exist? If Scarlett and Rhett’s passion could survive a civil war and two marriages, wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime bond possible? If it wasn’t, if it was only the stuff of fiction, then all her daydreaming during her stolen moments with a book had been an exercise in foolish fantasy.

She wasn’t letting him burst yet another bubble, she decided. Not at this particular moment when she needed some illusions to hang on to.

“So what happens now?” he prompted.

“I have to decide whether I want to be a princess.”

“There’s a decision there? I thought every woman wanted to be a princess.”

“Not me. I love my life in Stygos.”

“So you’re going to spend the rest of your life living in a tiny coastal village when you could be exploring the world?’

“Lots of people would give their right hand to live in Stygos.” She couldn’t help the defensive note in her voice. “What’s wrong with a quiet life?”

“Nothing if you’re fifty. What do you do there?”

“I run my family’s hotel with my mother.”

“And when you’re not working?”

“I see friends or I...read.” Her chin rose at his mocking look. “The hotel business is a 24/7 occupation.”

“I know that, Alex. I run several of them. I also know what hard work it is if you own a small property and have to do everything yourself. You could leave that behind. Hire someone to work with your mother.”

She shook her head. “My mother and I made a pact when my uncle turned the hotel over to her to run. We promised we would always be a team, that we would do this together. To leave her seems like a betrayal.”

“But these are extraordinary circumstances. Are there other family members who can help?”

“My cousin, yes. Much of my extended family is involved in the business.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“But I love it. I love getting to know people. I love making them happy for a week or two out of their year. I love being busy. If a person has a calling, this is mine.”

“Because you don’t know any differently.” He eyed her. “I think it’s wonderful you and your mother are so close. But someday you’re going to have to break free of that bond.”

She bit her lip. “You think it’s a crutch for me?”

“Your words... What I’m saying is that life is about living. Having the freedom to live. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

A long time.

“That long, huh?”

“A year. Since my boyfriend and I broke up.”

“And he was?”

“Sebastien Soukis. He’s the butcher from the next village.”

An amused glint entered his eyes. “Don’t tell me... He knows how to handle a woman.”

Her mouth tightened. “It’s a very respectable profession. Whereas yours is questionable.”

“Right.” He nodded. “I steal unsuspecting people’s money.”

“I didn’t quite put it like that.”

“Yes, you did. So what happened between you and Soukis?”

“I—” She waved a hand at him. “We decided to split.”

“You were bored.”

“He asked me to marry him.”

“And you said no because?”

“It didn’t seem right. I couldn’t...envision it.”

“Because it would have been too limited a life for you. You are young, Aleksandra. If you accept this opportunity, you’ll have a life, experiences few people will ever have. A life most people would give their right arm for. What’s the hesitation?”

“The fear of the unknown.” The anxiety that had been plaguing her all day tipped over into an honesty she couldn’t contain. “I’m happy with my life. What if I do this and I’m terrible at it? What if I give up everything and find out it was a big mistake?”

“Then you go home,” he said softly. “But don’t shy away from this opportunity because you’re scared. It’s harder to run from your fears than face them. Trust me.”

She took in his ultra-confident, ever-so-self-assured persona. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Why? Because I’m a powerful man? It wasn’t always that way. I’ve had my own conflicts. Two different roads I could have taken. It would have been easy for me to take the simpler one, the one I was drifting toward at the time, but it wouldn’t have been the right one. Taking yourself out of your comfort zone is the most powerful thing you can do.”

That intrigued her. “What were they? The two roads?”

“Ancient history.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “My point is you should take the jump, Princess. Privilege is a powerful thing. Use it wisely and it’ll be worth the reward.”

His touch sent an electric impulse firing through her. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as a shiver of reaction chased up her spine. If she’d been hoping her visceral response to him was a product of the champagne that night, she’d been sadly mistaken. She hadn’t touched but two sips of her wine before dinner, and still she was so aware of him she wanted to jump out of her skin.

His dark, sinful gaze commanded hers. Dragging his thumb along her lower lip, he nudged the tender flesh free of the bruising grip her teeth had taken of it. “Stop fretting,” he murmured, “and make the decision.”

She got all tangled up in him. In the intimate claim he was staking on her mouth, the pad of his thumb stroking the vulnerable curve of her lower lip. Her stomach went into free fall as heat built between them, wrapped itself around her like an invisible force she was helpless to resist.

Her mouth went dry, anticipating, willing the kiss she knew would be worth the insanity of allowing it.

He brought his lips to her ear, his warm breath playing across her skin like an intimate caress. “That would be breaking the rules. I have a great deal of incentive not to do that, angel.”

Rolling to his feet, he picked up his jacket. She hauled in a breath, attempting to corral her racing pulse.

He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, his gaze on her. “The woman who sashayed her way into the royal ball insisting on speaking to the king would see this for the opportunity it is. Guess you have to decide which one you are.”

Turning on his heel, he sauntered off into the night. She watched him go, head spinning. Inhaling a long, steadying breath, she digested the encounter. Attempted to determine the veracity of what he’d said.

Had she been missing out on the world in Stygos? Would she regret it if she stayed there? It had been easy to work most of her waking hours, to devote herself to the family business in the pursuit of a better life for her and her mother. To satisfy her need to know the world by burying her nose in a book, lost to the adventures she’d found there. Safe.

She thought about everything that had happened since her mother revealed her shocking news. How it had seemed as if the world had shifted beneath her feet. How everything she’d thought she’d known seemed like an illusion, and everything she hadn’t, her earth-shattering new reality.

She had a choice. To take back control of her life or have it control her. Because one thing was for sure; Nik had been right. Her life would never be the same no matter what she decided. She was a royal. A princess.

Perhaps it was not duty that would inform her decision, but a desire to truly know herself. To expose herself to the world and see what it reflected back at her. To stop living her life on the pages of a book and instead experience it for real.

Did she have the courage to take another huge leap? To leave everything she knew behind? If she did, what would she find when she got there?

CHAPTER FOUR

“HOW DOES IT FEEL to be a princess, Aleksandra?”

Terrifying. Bewildering. Like I have no idea what I am doing.

Alex swallowed hard, her knees knocking together as she looked out at the sea of reporters crowding the palace gardens for the official announcement of her appointment as Her Royal Highness, Aleksandra, Princess of Akathinia. Packed into the center of the labyrinth of neatly trimmed hedges in the Versailles-style gardens, there were hundreds of them toting cameras of all varieties, the buzz in the air palpable as they waited to grill the new royal.

It was the largest showing of a press contingent since the king and queen’s wedding the year before, a showing Alex had been well prepped for since making her decision to take her place as a Constantinides. And still her tongue was cleaved to the roof of her mouth, a rivulet of perspiration running down her back under the handpicked designer dress she wore.

Stella gave her an encouraging look from her position beside her, Nikandros flanking her other side. Taking a deep breath, Alex addressed the reporter in the front row.

“I’m still getting my feet wet. Perhaps you can ask me that again in a few months and I’ll have a better idea.”

“What is your role going to be?” the reporter followed up. “Do you have any causes you currently support?”

She was still trying to figure that out. It was her number one point of anxiety, in fact, since getting the hotel in the black had been her “cause” to date.

“I’m working through that,” she said. “More to come.”

“Why hasn’t the world known about you before now, Aleksandra?” another reporter called out. “Is it true your mother kept your birthright a secret?”

“That’s a personal matter I won’t comment on.”

“What about your father’s affairs? Is it possible there are more of you out there?”

“Again,” she said, “I won’t comment on my family’s personal affairs.”

“How do you anticipate handling the glare of the spotlight?”

“Day by day. Like any new job, I will have to learn my role. Luckily,” she added, nodding at her siblings, “I have my brother and sister by my side.”

A reporter directed a question at Stella about her new sister. Alex took the opportunity to breathe. A tall figure leaning against a tree behind the reporter claimed her attention. Aristos.

Clad in another of his bespoke suits, he sent her pulse scattering. What was he doing here?

“Aleksandra.” The reporter turned her attention back to her. “Overnight you have become one of the country’s most eligible women. Are you single or in a relationship?”

“I’m single.”

“What are you looking for in a potential husband?”

“I’m not looking,” she countered. “I have enough on my plate at the moment. But if I were, integrity, intelligence and kindness would be high on the list.”

Aristos’s mouth kicked up at the corners. Heat flamed her chest, rising to her face. Diavole, but why was he here?

“It’s rumored the duke of Catharia is quite taken with you. Perhaps there’s potential for a romance there?”

Her eyes widened. The duke had been seated beside her at an official dinner two nights ago. He was charming and attentive, and she’d enjoyed his company, but since she’d been told to keep a low profile considering today’s announcement, she hadn’t given him any encouragement. Perhaps also because her head had kept going back to her encounter with Aristos in the gardens. Charming as he might be, proper like the duke, he was not.

“The duke is lovely,” she said, lifting her chin. “But nothing to report there.”

The press flung a dozen more questions at her, covering everything from her life in Stygos to her favorite color. When they had exhausted anything that could be considered remotely interesting, a reporter in the middle of the pack directed a question at Nikandros.

“What do you make of the fact that Carnelia has called its reservists up to active duty?”

Her heart jumped. It had? Nikandros moved to the mike. “I think we’re doing everything we need to be doing to ensure Akathinia’s safety, now and in the future.

“Are you anticipating an invasion by Carnelia?”

“We hope it won’t come to that.”

The media peppered the king with a series of questions on the Carnelian situation. Alex kept her gaze on the press corps rather than on the man making her feel utterly conspicuous. Naive and conspicuous.

The press conference thankfully came to an end. The PR liaison appeared to usher them back into the palace. Stella stopped to talk to a reporter she knew, while Alex continued on with her minder, anxious to get away from the frenzy.

Aristos appeared at her side, his long strides easily gaining him even with her as she walked toward the palace. “Well done,” he murmured. “You took the leap.”

His designer stubble was thicker than usual, giving him a wicked, pirate-like appearance. It kicked her insides into high gear despite her better sense. She gave him her best haughty princess look. “Surely you didn’t come just to laugh at me?”

“You’ve been busy,” he noted. “Taking my advice. A duke already... And no, angel, I didn’t come to see your performance. I have a meeting with the king.”

Oh. Her stomach dropped. And why was that? She needed to be staying away from him, not courting his attention.

“There is no duke. He was seated beside me at dinner. That’s all.”

“And you flashed those baby blues at him and he didn’t stand a chance.”

She turned to face him. “I was not flirting.”

“You don’t have to. You’re a natural.” He gave her a pained look. “But kindness, integrity and intelligence? Really, Alex? You might as well have posted a neon sign inviting all the Sebastiens of the world to come running. That was not what I meant when I said expand your horizons.”

She narrowed her gaze. “That is just...rude. Any woman would be lucky to have Sebastien.”

“Except you,” he pointed out. “You’re far too hot-blooded for that, Princess.”

“Oof.” She stuck her hands on her hips. “I tell you what. The next time I need dating advice I won’t come to you and your heartless reputation. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Ouch.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Heartless. That hurts.”

“I’m sure you are withering away inside.” Noting that Stella was directly behind them, she pressed her lips together and flung him a cool look. “Enjoy your meeting, Mr. Nicolades. Good afternoon.”

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