A king’s secret daughter is swept into romance and danger in this tale of royal intrigue.

The ruler of Icarus is cunning and ruthless, yet Iliana Kracos has seen another side of Demetrius DeSante. And after an explosive night of passion together, she agrees to marry him. Yet when he reveals her true parentage—she’s heir to the throne—it puts her bridegroom in a new light.

Iliana isn’t sure how she can trust Demetrius. Does he truly love her, or is she merely a pawn in his royal game? But Demetrius assures he’ll protect Iliana at all costs, and with a ruthless assassin targeting royal heirs, Iliana has no choice but to put her faith in the man she knows the least—her husband.

“Are you trying to antagonize me?”

Iliana smirked. “Yes.”

“At least you admit it,” Demetrius said.

“I want you to apologize.”

“If I say the words, will you stop being upset?”

“You have to mean them. Then I’ll see how I feel.”

“Iliana, I haven’t been more attracted to another woman than I am to you. What I know about the king of Valencia being related to you has nothing to do with that attraction.”

“But you married me because of it.”

“I would have married you one day. I moved up the timeline because of the king’s health problems.”

“You could have been honest with me.”

“I told you about the king when the time was right.”

“Do you think the man who tried to kill me was after me because of my connection to the king of Valencia?”

“I suspect someone else knows who you are and wants you dead because of it.”

“Going to Valencia seems like a patently bad idea, then, if someone wants to kill me.”

“No one will kill my wife.”

“You’re not invincible, Demetrius.”

“I would sooner die than let someone harm you.”

***

Be sure to check out the next books in this miniseries.

Conspiracy Against the Crown: Ally or foe? No one can tell in this fight for power…and love.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to the Mediterranean! Demetrius DeSante and Iliana Kracos were introduced in The Secret King (Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense, September 2015). Both are spirited individuals, but Iliana is a dreamer and Demetrius is a realist. His every move is to further his personal and political goals. Iliana follows her heart.

Demetrius’s secrets are a necessary burden. Needing Iliana’s help means sharing those long-buried secrets and letting her inside his private thoughts. That’s hard for a man whose history is peppered with lies and betrayal. Iliana thinks her love will be the answer, except that word is far more difficult for Demetrius to accept—or to speak—than Iliana realized.

When Iliana learns that Demetrius has been keeping secrets about her past and a family she never knew existed, she has to decide whether to forgive him or walk away and destroy everything Demetrius has worked for.

I hope you enjoy the second book in the Conspiracy Against the Crown series.

Best,

C.J. Miller

Guarding His

Royal Bride

C.J. Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

C.J. MILLER loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website: cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband, son and daughter. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances and happily-ever-after.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To my dear friends, Jen, the level-headed realist, and Christy, the daydreamer.

Here’s to 28 more years of secret keeping.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

The king of Valencia was dying and leaving behind a hell of a mess.

Emmanuel Floros had two ex-wives, five spoiled children who had grown into self-centered adults and a wife who was as controlling as she was stupid. The eight of them were squabbling for land and money, but the fighting was pointless. After the king died and his will was read, all would be revealed. Some might be cut out; others may have inherited a treasure trove.

Fortunately for him, President Demetrius DeSante of Icarus had a knack for turning disasters into opportunities. In this case, the opportunity had a name: Iliana Kracos. It wasn’t like him to care about a woman this much, even a woman as beautiful as Iliana, but she was special.

He wouldn’t allow a little obstacle like her fury at him to stand in his way.

Demetrius had to take his pursuit of Iliana to another level. No more casual phone calls, flower arrangements, gifts or dropping by the castle to see her. She was giving him the old-fashioned silent treatment, and maybe he deserved it. She had been angry with him when he had refused to back down from a fight brewing in the Mediterranean, but since war had been averted, she should have moved past it and forgiven him. Yet she’d rebuffed his calls and communicated only through intermediaries. During his infrequent visits to Acacia, she’d been away from the castle on business.

He was outside Iliana’s home, fist hovering in front of the wood door, prepared to knock.

Why was he nervous? He had nerves of steel, which had been tested many times over on the battlefield, and courage in spades that he displayed every time he faced difficulties head-on. But one fiery, green-eyed goddess had the power to reduce him to an anxious mess. Much more was on the line than Iliana’s significance in Valencia. She was the most fascinating woman he had ever known—feisty, smart and sexy, all wrapped up in a spicy package.

His servicemen were behind him, and he wouldn’t show fear in front of them. Though their loyalty was unconditional and challenged on a regular basis, he wouldn’t give anyone one shred of a reason to doubt him. He maintained control by showing power and strength. His careful decisions had pulled Icarus back from ruin and had changed it into a productive country for the first time in a century.

He heard a crash inside the house.

His protective instincts roared, and he pounded on the door. “Iliana! Open the door!”

Iliana’s terror-filled scream rang out. Demetrius kicked at the door handle. Once, twice and the door splintered under his weight. He rushed into the house, his servicemen on his heels.

He followed Iliana’s screams and the sound of breaking dishes.

She was at the back of the house, in her kitchen. Her hands were gripping the counter behind her, and a man was pointing a gun at her. Demetrius’s own gun was in his hands in milliseconds. His guards would be brandishing theirs, as well.

Demetrius didn’t recognize the man, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d be forced to kill a stranger. “You are outgunned and outmanned. Drop your weapon, or I’ll kill you.”

The intruder looked from Iliana to Demetrius. The coldness in his eyes and the firepower in his hands indicated this wasn’t an armed robbery. This wasn’t personal. This was a would-be assassination. The man was likely a hired gun who knew his trade well. The hit man didn’t know Iliana, and that worked in their favor. He wouldn’t make reckless decisions based on emotion.

Demetrius would have killed him on the spot for threatening Iliana, but she didn’t like violence. And if the assassin was dead, they couldn’t find out who had sent him. “Last warning.”

Three more seconds and Iliana’s aversion to violence would come second to keeping her safe.

The assassin set his weapon on the kitchen table and raised his hands. The man didn’t have a death wish after all. Lucky for him. Demetrius took the gun and gestured to his servicemen to deal with the assailant.

After holstering his gun and handing the hit man’s gun to his guard, he strode to Iliana, who was still clutching the countertop, her face white, her body shaking. His rage for the assassin was renewed. He should have killed the man for upsetting her and found out who’d hired him another way.

His woman shouldn’t tremble from fear, and whether or not she chose to recognize it, Iliana was his woman.

White-hot anger sliced through him, and he reached for his gun. Any man who harmed Iliana would pay, and he’d set the precedent now.

Iliana set her hand on his, her soft fingers sending a jolt of lust and desire through him. “No, Demetrius. Don’t kill him. Please.”

She knew him too well. She had read the intention in his eyes. It wasn’t the first time she had stopped him from killing a man. If it were any other woman, he would have ignored her plea.

“He hurt you.” Translation: he deserved to die.

She shook her head. “He scared me. He didn’t hurt me. I threw dishes at him.”

Scaring her and hurting her made little difference to him. “It’s the same.” But he had to admit, her fight and her resourcefulness impressed him.

“My gun is in that drawer,” she said, pointing to a cabinet a few feet from her. “I was trying to get to it.”

Surprise and admiration washed over him. “Since when do you have a gun?”

She stabbed her slender fingers through her red hair. “Since a few months after my cousin and uncle were gunned down at his birthday party.”

Demetrius had attended the late king of Acacia’s birthday party. Tragic scene, catastrophic consequences. “You didn’t mention your interest in owning a gun. I could have taught you to use it.”

“I took lessons.” She shook her head, still seeming dazed. “What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded faint. He wasn’t used to that. Usually everything Iliana said was accompanied by an energetic, playful tone, occasionally marked with a little sass.

Except during the last conversation they had, the conversation he didn’t like to think about. She had been hurt and angry with him.

“I came to speak with you.” She had pulled her hand away, and he was desperate to reach for her. He didn’t. The number of times he had touched Iliana could be counted on one hand. Their relationship, though far more intimate than any other he’d had with a woman in years, was lacking in the physical aspect. Not because he wasn’t interested. He was very interested. What held him back was the fear he would mess this up. He needed it to work in order to follow through with his plan.

“Did you arrange this attack in an attempt to win my forgiveness by saving me?” she asked.

The idea was repulsive, and it burned that she thought so low of him. “I have told you before. It is not my intention to hurt you, ever. I would never send a man here to kill you or threaten you so I could step in and save you. The timing was fortuitous, and you can confirm with your queen’s husband that I am in Acacia at his invitation. We met earlier today.” King Casimir, one of the few men Demetrius trusted, had invited him to Acacia to discuss some outstanding political issues, among them, trade arrangements in the Mediterranean.

Iliana nodded once swiftly. She believed him and she should, because he spoke the truth. Demetrius made it his policy not to lie to her outright. But secret keeping was necessary, and as a member of the royal family, she should understand that.

“You’re here. Say what you need to say,” Iliana said. She set her hand on her hip, and he liked that her sass was back.

He had practiced the speech many times, but now he felt words were inadequate to express his thoughts. “I’m sorry that politics interfered in our relationship.”

Iliana quirked a brow. Demetrius kept his eyes locked on her face, but it was tempting to peek at her generous curves. For a petite woman, she was shapely in the right places.

When he had first learned of Iliana’s existence during a poker game with Emmanuel the First, the king of Valencia, Demetrius had been intrigued. Locating her had been a simple matter, as had been confirming her identity—one even she wasn’t aware of—by taking a strand of hair from her hairbrush. What had not been simple was his attraction to her. She was take-his-breath-away gorgeous. Although he was regularly hit on by sexy women, those drawn to his power and money, Iliana intrigued him like no one else did.

She fascinated him in all the right ways. He found it refreshing that she didn’t seem to care about his position or his wealth. It had been far too long since a woman liked him for him.

“It wasn’t politics that came between us. You didn’t listen to me. You did what you wanted without any consideration for my thoughts and feelings.”

Demetrius checked his temper. Iliana could push his buttons like no one else. Fighting with her made his blood run hot. Because she mattered to him. She had then, and she did now. “I had to do what was right for Icarus. I believed that war could be avoided, but I could not appear weak by backing away from provocation from Rizari.”

Iliana’s eyes softened. Was he winning her over? “I couldn’t explain everything to you with the queen close at hand, and, after that, you refused to speak to me,” he said.

She dropped her arms to her sides, hands unclenched. She was considering the matter.

He went for broke. “You’ve been through an ordeal today. Please stay with me until things settle down and we know more about this incident.” Such as who the assassin was and why he had targeted Iliana. Demetrius could venture a few guesses, but vocalizing them would only scare her or anger her further.

She inhaled deeply, seeming to consider his proposition. “I will be fine. The police will be here soon, and it will be over.”

Demetrius didn’t want to frighten her, but he knew this would not be over until she was dead or the person who wanted her dead was stopped. “Could we speak in private?”

Iliana glanced over his shoulder at her attacker. “Outside?”

He hadn’t swept the outside to see if another killer was lying in wait. “Upstairs would be better.”

She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Demetrius followed her up the stairs, taking in the details around him, paint color, the pictures on the wall, all canvas paintings, and the flooring: soft but worn. He hadn’t been inside her home before, and he noticed how much like her it was. Inviting, modern and comfortable.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she took one more step and turned. “There are only bedrooms and a bathroom up here. We can talk in the hallway.”

Was she worried about being alone with him in the bedroom because of what may happen when a bed was close by? The idea thrilled him because it meant she still felt their attraction. For him, it was a constant thrum in his veins.

Being attracted to her was an unexpected bonus of the larger, more important task at hand—to win her over. He would have had to seduce her no matter what he felt for her, but being that she was gorgeous and smart, it made the job that much more pleasant.

He needed to be honest with her and give her the right motivation to stay with him. He could keep her safe as no one else could. “The man in your kitchen meant to assassinate you. Whoever sent him won’t give up after one attempt.”

Iliana shot him a look of disbelief. He loved that about her. She wasn’t a simpering woman, quick to burst into tears. She rallied quickly in the face of hardships. “Perhaps there are a lot of people who have reasons to kill you. No one has reasons to kill me.”

She knew so little about her life. It was too soon to tell her all he knew. He had to disarm her, marry her and then show her how she fit into the chess game. “If you will not stay with me, please call your dear cousin and arrange to stay in the castle.”

Since a massive corruption conspiracy had been uncovered within the queen of Acacia’s ranks, she had cleaned house. New security measures had been put in place, and Queen Serena kept her thumb on everything and everyone in the Acacian government. It helped that her husband, King Constantine Casimir Warrington IV of Rizari, brought his skills as an experienced military man to the table.

Iliana wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to stay in the castle. It’s big, but Serena and Casimir are still in the honeymoon phase and I’d be the third wheel there.”

Demetrius knew the feeling. Those long looks and the constant touching between Serena and Casimir nauseated him. “Then, my home it is.”

Iliana hesitated.

Shouting below them had Demetrius reaching again for his gun and pushing Iliana behind him. If more hit men had arrived, they’d have to shoot him dead to get to Iliana. He’d been shot four times in his life and had survived without any loss of major body functions. He’d cheated death and tempted fate before, and he would do it again.

The police had arrived. Demetrius surveyed the scene before bringing Iliana downstairs with him.

A detective strolled up to Iliana. “We found another man lurking outside. This address is on the queen’s watch list. Ms. Kracos, you’ll need to come with us.”

“I’ve invited Iliana to stay with me. I think we should let her decide where she’d feel safest,” Demetrius said, banking on Iliana choosing him. It was risky, but Iliana couldn’t be cornered.

* * *

As bad days went, this one was tops. Iliana hadn’t even had breakfast yet and her home had already been invaded by an assassin and Demetrius DeSante.

It was the second time that Demetrius had saved her life. She was capable of protecting herself, but being around him made her feel like batting her eyes and flirting and giggling. Not the tough image she wanted to convey.

A woman didn’t flirt with the president of Icarus. He would find that behavior appalling. He was so serious and stern and powerful. Darkly good-looking, a fact he seemed unaware of, which made him that much more attractive.

Instead, Iliana kept her wits about her and reviewed her options.

She could stay in her home, she could stay with Serena and Casimir at the castle or she could run off with Demetrius DeSante.

Her heart had an obvious preference, given that it almost beat out of her chest at the idea of being alone with Demetrius. The safest place, in more ways than one, was the Acacian castle. Yet she would be loath to intrude on her cousin and her new husband. Her home felt unsafe and the police would likely insist, to the point of forcing her, that she leave. Demetrius’s home held appeal.

She had a history of being brash and wild with men, so she would exercise some caution this time. “If I go with you to Icarus and wish to return to Acacia, you’ll allow it?”

“This is not a kidnapping. You are coming with me of your own volition and may leave whenever you wish. I will arrange safe transportation for you to return to Acacia at your request.”

His voice was liquid honey, and her knees felt as if they might give out. “If I come with you, it doesn’t mean that I forgive you.”

His eyes darkened. “Of course not.”

But he knew that he’d won. The silence between them had been broken. Her anger had already been lessened by the fact that war between their countries had been averted months earlier. By the time the smoke had cleared, Iliana hadn’t been sure how to talk to Demetrius or where they stood.

When she shut him out completely, she could keep her distance. But if she let him in a little bit, he seemed to get in all the way. When he was close, her desire for him intensified and she wanted him in—inside her, in her life, in her heart.

Given Iliana’s position on the queen’s staff, it divided her loyalty.

Yet she yearned for Demetrius DeSante. No other man ignited her blood as much as he did. Queen Serena had said she was fine with Iliana seeing DeSante. Granted, that was before the dictator had decided war was the only way and had shown he was willing to go to the mat over any infraction against Icarus.

Iliana didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who didn’t think her opinion mattered. Could she give him another chance? Was that what was already happening?

Maybe her emotions had shifted away from anger when their hands had touched. Iliana wanted to touch him, but he rarely reached for her. Demetrius could light her up with a look, and that was power. They hadn’t slept together, not even close, and yet she was hungry for him.

She felt a sudden burning need to explore the part of their relationship that was a mystery to her. “I’ll need to inform Serena we’re traveling to Icarus.”

Demetrius didn’t smile, but his eyes gave him away. “Come, then. No time to waste. As we drag, someone could be arranging to send another team of assassins. Perhaps the second squad will not be as incompetent as the first.”

* * *

Iliana hadn’t traveled to Icarus before, and its capital city of Daedalus, where the president’s home was located, wasn’t what she had expected. She had seen pictures of Icarus, but witnessing it in person told a different story.

The pictures in the media of Icarus were of filthy slums, dirty children running wild on the streets and a general sense of desolation and despair. Icarus, or at least Daedalus, was nothing like that.

The streets were hectic, but they were lined with businesses that seemed clean, bright and industrious. Sidewalk easels announced the sale of food, clothes, trinkets and even skateboards.

“You seem surprised,” Demetrius said. He was seated across from her in the back of the extended town car. He had his tablet on his lap, but his intense dark blue eyes were locked on her.

She wouldn’t lie. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“I’ve been inviting you to visit for months. It took someone trying to kill you for you to take me up on my offer.”

He was blunt, but he didn’t sound upset. “I have my reservations about being involved with a war-hungry leader.”

He smirked. “I am not war hungry. If I wanted a war, I wouldn’t have backed down from the fight with Rizari.”

“You backed down because the new king of Rizari is your best friend.”

“I have no friends when it comes to protecting the interests of my country. Casimir is a man I respect. We are close like brothers.”

She flinched. “If you don’t have friends, what am I to you?” A question she had pondered often.

“A woman I am interested in pursuing. A woman who I would like to marry.”

“Marry?” The word sent shock waves through her. A man hadn’t brought up marriage before, at least, not a marriage with her. She had once discovered a man she was dating was married and had ended the relationship, but that was her and marriage in a totally different context.

Iliana didn’t dwell on past mistakes. It was typical of the men she met to want to sleep with her and have fun with her. Maybe it was a vibe she was giving off.

To have a powerful and desirable man like Demetrius speak those words to her made her ego purr.

“I assume you wish to be married?” he asked, leaning close, his piercing navy eyes seeing into her soul.

She calmed her racing heart. Demetrius was intense and direct, and she couldn’t overreact. He’d see fits of hysteria or giggling as unattractive, and, inexplicably, it was important to her to be seen as desirable by him. “Yes. One day. To the right man.”

“Tell me—who exactly is the right man? What makes him worth waiting for?”

“Do you have to ask so many complex questions?” She was deflecting, but she didn’t want to talk about her future husband and the man she hoped he would be. Demetrius would see that he was wrong for her, and the relationship would be over before it began. She definitely had the sense something was starting now. A fling or a one-night stand maybe, and a hot, passionate and fun one at that.

“You are avoiding answering my question,” he said.

“Because the man I want to marry is not a checklist I’m looking to fulfill. It’s a feeling. I want to be swept away.”

She was grateful he had the decency not to laugh at her. Iliana had a fanciful side that had landed her in trouble with men before. She’d been inspired by her parents’ relationship. They had met on a blind date, had a whirlwind romance and had been inseparable until the day they’d died. Older and wiser now, Iliana knew not to project what she wanted onto a man. She had to have her eyes open to who he was and accept him, flaws and all. Who was the man in front of her? A violent dictator—ruthless, blunt and drop-dead sexy.

Demetrius’s home was another surprise. It was a large, rambling three-story house, not as ornate as she had expected. It looked well maintained but in need of softening. He had no flowers in the garden, no curtains in the windows, nothing to add contrast to the gray stone exterior.

The sedan circled to the back of the house. To her right was what might have been a beautiful, lush garden many years earlier. Some plants were overgrown; other patches of the garden were bare. A large stone wall surrounding the space was beginning to crumble. Didn’t that bother Demetrius? He was detail oriented and precise. Wasn’t he concerned about the state of his home? As president of Icarus, his residence should reflect his power and wealth.

They parked behind the house, and Demetrius opened the car door and climbed out. He took her hand and helped her out of the black sedan. Heat surged between them. Now that they were out of the public eye, could she step closer, rub against him, make it clear she was interested in moving their relationship forward, at least the physical aspects of it?

She lost her nerve. He placed her hand on his arm and led her into the house.

Much like the exterior, the inside was plain. Little furniture, white walls, clean, but it didn’t look occupied. “You live here?” she asked.

“Yes.”

This was his primary home? “It looks bare.” No knickknacks, no artwork and nothing on the table or sofa.

“I haven’t had time to decorate. I’d like my wife to do that.”

It wasn’t the first time he had commented about tasks he wanted a wife to perform. She was certain he didn’t mean to offend her, although it struck her as presumptive to assume a woman would have time or interest in remodeling a home. “What if your wife doesn’t want to decorate your house?”

He shrugged. “Then, she can hire someone to do it the way she likes. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t view my wife as my servant or believe that her role is to please me. My intention in allowing her to decorate is for her to find our home comfortable and pleasing.”

It was all she could do to keep from swooning. Though she and Demetrius had trouble communicating, sometimes his words blew her away. Her parents had put her first in their lives, but since they had died, no one made her the top priority. No one went out of his or her way to please her.

“Show me your favorite room in the house,” Iliana said.

Demetrius’s lips twitched. She half expected him to deny her request. “Follow me.”

She followed Demetrius up two flights of stairs to the top floor. At the end of the hallway, he opened the double doors. This had to be his bedroom. His favorite room was his personal sanctuary, and she was inside it. A surge of happiness swept over her and she was genuinely pleased he had brought her here.

Unlike the plainness of the rest of the house, this room was beautiful. It was him. Dark wood furniture, blue bedding and geometric-patterned curtains worked together and made the room flow. It was charming and distinctly Demetrius.

She sat on the bed and gave it a few test bounces. “Harder than I like.”

“I’ll have it replaced,” he said.

He was nothing if not confident. “I don’t plan to sleep here,” she said.

“I don’t plan for you to sleep there, either, but I do intend to have you in my bed,” he said.

His words made her hot and excited. Her insides clutched with yearning. “Come here. Please.”

He strode to her and knelt on the floor in front of her. He took both her hands in his and kissed her palms. To have a powerful man like Demetrius acquiesce to her made her, in turn, feel powerful.

He watched her with such absolute focus that she felt like the only person in the world who mattered to him in that moment. Maybe she was. “I’ve fantasized about having you in my bedroom and about what I would do to you when I finally got you here.”

They had flirted, they’d had long conversations, but they hadn’t allowed their relationship to cross over into a physical one. Their attraction was the one part of their relationship that had been consistent. Consistent and persistently drawing her to him. She had daydreamed about him, about this moment, and now she couldn’t think about anything except him. “Then, do it to me. Show me.” He would be confident and talented in bed. She knew it.

His eyes blazed sex. Taking the relationship from zero to sixty was rash, but Iliana didn’t know how long this would last. She had kept his attention, and he had pursued her. They were alone together in his room. Why fight it? Iliana knew the difference between sex and intimacy, and while she preferred the latter, in this blistering moment, she wanted the former with Demetrius.

“When I’ve thought of you at night, when I’m alone, I’ve imagined you touching me and I know you will be very, very good,” she said.

He grinned. “You know right, but I will show you.”

She expected him to pounce on her, but instead he stood and drew her to her feet. He walked her to the large window overlooking the gardens.

He stood behind her and moved her hair to the side. He pressed his lips to her neck and ran his hands down her sides. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. He had been restrained every other time they were alone, and it made her want him that much more.

When he reached her waist, he unsnapped her pants. She had a moment of panic. What underwear was she wearing? She couldn’t recall what she had slipped on that morning. She hadn’t been anticipating taking a lover that day.

“Relax. What are you worried about?” he asked.

“I think I’m wearing green underwear.”

Demetrius laughed and plucked the back of her pants. “Yes. It seems you are.”

She felt a flush over her cheeks. Normally sleeping with a man for the first time required careful preparation—manicure, a facial and some primping. No special arrangements had been made today. But she had the feeling with Demetrius, this could be now or never. He had said the word marriage to her, but Iliana couldn’t process that on any real level. Achy, needy desire swelled inside her. She couldn’t slow the build of lust and wanting in her body. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“There is nothing you could do now to disappoint me. Except maybe leave.” He slid her pants down her legs and let them fall to the floor around her feet. She stepped out of them. He tugged her shirt over her head.

Demetrius spun her around. He growled as he swept his eyes down her body. “You are glorious and perfectly feminine.” He touched the side of her face gently, tracing his thumb down her cheek.

Then he moved quickly and deliberately, bringing her against his body and kissing her. His lips seared her to the core. She moved against him, feeling his hardness through his pants, and had the intense urge to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth. The kisses turned carnal, tongues tasting, teeth clicking.

Demetrius reached between her legs and ran a finger across the V of her thighs. “Wet. Already. I like that.”

She was dripping. Hungry. His hands cupped her breasts, and he squeezed lightly.

He was wearing entirely too many clothes for this to be fair. She tugged his shirt from his pants, pulling at the buttons and grappling with his belt. When his shirt was unfastened, he shrugged it off, and it joined her clothes on the floor.

His pants came next, then his boxers, and she could see everything. Every bronzed, roped muscle, his impressive arousal, long and thick, the ripple of his abdominals and a collection of scars.

She set her hand over the circular scars, one near his heart, two at his sides, one on his thigh. “What happened?”

“Gunshot wounds.” He sounded indifferent.

“All of them?” He had been shot four times?

“Different occurrences. Do they bother you?” For the first time, he sounded unsure, and that warmed her. He was human. He was sweet. He had a soft side that she guessed he revealed to few people.

“Not at all. You are a warrior.” To prove it, she kissed each one, tracing them and the other scars that marred his body.

“Enough,” he said, and swept her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down. She let her legs fall open because she wanted him now and didn’t feel the need to be coy about it.

He removed her bra with the snap of his fingers and kissed each of her breasts, laving them with attention, making her feel loved and cherished. He reached for her feet, removing her shoes and letting them hit the floor.

“Demetrius, please hurry.” Her body ached for his, longed to feel his weight on top of her.

Other sexual encounters with boyfriends had been brief, a quick pounding, leaving her unsatisfied. Demetrius seemed in no hurry and intent on leaving her satisfied. She was so turned on, if she moved the right way against him, she might come from his touch.

He kissed a trail down her body and tugged her green—ugh—panties down her legs. “I’m throwing those out,” she said.

“Keep them. I’ll think of you like this every time I see them,” he said.

He brought his mouth between her legs, and she involuntarily bucked against him. He set his hand on her hip to settle her. Excitement and pleasure pulsed between her legs. He took his time, licking, sucking, caressing her until she was frantic with need. He knew what he was doing, and she tried to stay calm. Watching him in that intimate position, she felt affection and warmth flood over her.

“I need you inside me,” she said. “Please, Demetrius.”

He moved over her and reached into his bedside table. Donning a condom, he positioned himself at her opening. With almost no effort, he pushed inside her. She was hot and wet and so ready for this. The sensation of him filling her, of him reaching deep inside her, was utterly amazing.

He moved with hard, insistent thrusts, seeming to enjoy the thump of his body delving into hers. She ran her fingernails down his back, digging them into his buttocks, and lifted to meet him.

She felt pressure building between her legs. Everything inside her spun with pleasure and desire, pushing her higher and higher until she was plummeting over the edge of ecstasy. Their eyes locked, and she felt a shudder go through his body as he spilled his essence.

As her body relaxed beneath his, he collapsed on top of her. She welcomed the weight of him. She kissed his shoulder and rubbed his calf with her foot. The words I love you were on her tongue, but she refused to speak them, scared of what they could mean, fearful they were coming too soon or may be an excited utterance.

Most of all, she was scared they were true and she had fallen for a ruthless dictator who would hurt her all over again.

Chapter 2

Demetrius couldn’t give Iliana time to think. He was banking on her agreeing to marry him immediately. Sated by the passion and excitement of their encounter, she’d fallen asleep beneath him. He extracted himself from her. After cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he dressed.

He could read her. She wasn’t a poker player. She was falling for him. He reached into his bedside table and brought out the gray-and-black marble ring box. He’d had the ring commissioned earlier that week and sized to her finger. She’d left a ring on her desk once and he’d traced it onto a piece of paper when her back was turned. She wouldn’t want to be proposed to in bed. She’d want a story to tell her cousin and her friends.

He slipped the engagement ring into his pocket. This would happen today. By tomorrow, she would be his wife and he would have what he needed to complete his plan.

He picked up his dress shirt from the floor and carried it to the bed. Sweeping her red hair to the side, he kissed her cheek. “Iliana? I want to show you something.”

She mumbled into the pillow. Into his pillow. That pleased him enormously. He rarely allowed women into his bedroom. Come to think of it, Iliana was the first. The first and the last. She moved down into the blankets, her red hair spread across his sheets, the fabric showcasing the silhouette of her lithe body.

“This will only take a moment. It can’t wait.”

She sat up, pushing her hair back. “Why do I have to get up now?”

He slipped his shirt over her slim shoulders. For the sake of decency, he buttoned the middle buttons. She looked good. She would be a good wife—of that he was certain. “I have something to show you.”

“Interesting that you want to dress me,” she said.

“I don’t like the idea of my staff seeing you naked.”

Though his staff members would not utter a word about anything they saw in the house, especially in his private wing, he was protective of Iliana. He didn’t want to share her in any way.

She pulled on her underwear, the green pair, and her slacks. She left her feet bare.

Demetrius led her outside into the garden. It needed attention, but that task had fallen behind more pressing matters. His private garden was still tended to perfection. He unlocked the green wooden gate. He had refinished the gate himself, sanded it, painted it and rehung it. Though he could have asked someone on his staff to handle the matter, physical labor helped him clear his mind after hours of meetings. The high stone walls around the garden provided the privacy he craved.

He held the door for her, and she stepped inside and gasped.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“My garden. I work here in my spare time.” A source of pride and enjoyment for him.

He took pleasure in watching her walk up and down the paths. Solar lights illuminated the rows of plants and shrubbery. He walked behind her, not wanting to rush her. The timing had to be right. Much was riding on this proposal.

She had said she wanted to be swept away. He had to give her what she needed. Having her in his bed had been every bit the sublime experience he had imagined. She was responsive and active and made the most fantastic noises when she came.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you would spend time on a garden,” Iliana said.

A solitary activity that involved using his hands. In that way, it was ideal. “It’s a productive garden. I grow food here for myself and my staff.” Growing up poor, he, his brother and his mother had kept a garden, eating what they could, selling produce to neighbors. Their poverty had made Demetrius resourceful. He and his brother had often made sacrifices for each other and their mother.

She smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

He didn’t want to talk about himself or his childhood. Iliana had been raised by perfectly warm and loving parents. His experiences had been different. “Looking at you takes my breath away.”

She lowered her head, but he saw the blush on her cheeks. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“We are alone here. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve made how I feel about you clear.”

She stepped closer, and his hands greedily reached for her.

“You fascinate me,” she said.

That he had captured Iliana’s interest for even this long felt like an accomplishment. Demetrius planned everything in his life. Everything. He did nothing without thinking, considering and weighing his options. But he didn’t know exactly what he would say to win her over or how he would say it. He went with what felt right.

He fell to his knee in front of this beautiful, captivating woman. He took her hands in his. He kissed her wrists and then held her left hand, threading their fingers.

Why did he feel emotional about this? This was a calculated, crucial part of his plan, yet he was caught up in it and in her. “Iliana, I have been enchanted with you from the moment we first spoke. I admire your fire and passion for life. You’ve come to mean so much to me.”

He removed the ring from his pocket and held it for her to see. She gasped and brought her hands to her mouth. He reached for her hands again, putting them in his where they belonged. “Iliana, will you be there for me in the ways that matter? Will you sleep in my bed and wake beside me in the morning? Will you be my friend and my lover and my confidante? Will you be my wife?”

Surprise registered on her face. “Why me? We don’t know each other.”

He shook his head. “I know everything I need to know about you. There won’t be another in my life who means to me what you do.”

She brought her hands to her mouth and then threw herself into his arms. He wrapped them around her. She kissed his cheek. “Yes, yes, I will marry you.” Tears ran down her face.

He slipped the ring on her finger. “Tonight. We marry tonight.”

Her smile faltered. “Tonight? Are you serious?”

“I cannot wait another day to have you as my wife.”

She stared at him. “You are serious.”

“Of course. I will not joke about our marriage.”

“But I have plans for my wedding. I want Serena to be there. And Casimir. I wanted to wear a special dress and carry lilies.”

If he gave her too much time to think about it, she could change her mind. The chess pieces could shift, rendering his position weaker. He had to marry her now, before she knew more about his plans and her future. “My Iliana, you will have everything you wish for your wedding. A few phone calls will make it so.” He had a country of wedding planners, florists and dressmakers at his disposal. He would do what was needed to get her to the altar. If she wanted the wedding of her dreams, so be it.

She nodded and seemed to be half convinced. “I need to call Serena, then.”

Demetrius remained calm. The queen could talk her cousin out of this arrangement. Had he convinced Serena that his intentions were good? Casimir was his brother on the battlefield, but Demetrius hadn’t shared with him the reasons why Iliana was critical or why he needed to marry her. Demetrius’s biological brother needed his help, and nothing would stop him from providing it. “Please do. I will contact our event planner and have her come to the house immediately.”

Pleased that this part of his plan had worked, he felt unsettled by the unfamiliar sensation of warmth that spread over him. Iliana would be his wife, and he would respect and honor her. But had he come to care for her? That had not been part of the plan.

* * *

Serena rushed to Iliana, hugging her close, a challenge with her ever-growing pregnant belly. Serena was expecting twins in five months. “Iliana, are you sure about this? This seems so sudden.”

“It seems that way for me, too. But it also feels right.” Demetrius had said the right things, he had treated her as if she was precious to him and he had given her carte blanche to plan the wedding, with the caveat that it had to be tonight. Many women would be envious of her position. She almost couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Demetrius was an honorable man and would be a good husband.

“Why so fast? Are you pregnant?” Serena asked, her lips quirked into a smile.

Iliana laughed. “Not pregnant. My mother and father were taken from me abruptly, and now Demetrius is giving me a new family as suddenly. Maybe that’s how my life works.” She wouldn’t kick a gift horse in the mouth.

“You’ve been tight-lipped about your relationship with Demetrius, but if this is what you want, I support you.”

The event planner, a powerhouse named Eleni, rushed into the room carrying a wedding gown in a light blue garment bag. “I had to pull every string to get this dress in your size, but it’s here. The seamstress is on her way to make adjustments.”

Eleni hung the garment on a dress hook and removed the light blue bag. It was a dress Iliana had seen months earlier when shopping for another friend’s wedding. It was simple and elegant, all flowing satin covered in lace. The top was fitted, and the skirt flared at the bottom.

Eleni and Serena helped her slip it on. Iliana was worried it wouldn’t be as beautiful as she had pictured when she saw it on the mannequin. When the final button was fastened, she turned and caught her reflection in the mirror. Breathtaking. It was what she had hoped for. Demetrius was making her wedding dreams come true. She was still reeling at how quickly it was moving, but why question good fortune?

Serena teared up beside her. “Oh, Iliana, you look so beautiful. Demetrius won’t be able to catch his breath.”

The next hour was a flurry of activity. The seamstress measured, pinned and sewed. Iliana’s hair was arranged, some gathered on her head, other pieces left over her shoulder, and light makeup was applied. Before she had time to think, Serena was leading her to the private garden where she would marry the president of Icarus.

“You know he isn’t the bad person that people say he is, right?” Iliana said quietly to her cousin. She needed her good friend to assure her that she was seeing Demetrius for who he was, as he was, and that this wasn’t a mistake.

Serena squeezed her hand. “Casimir tells me that Demetrius is a good man. I questioned him the entire flight here.”

“Demetrius is wonderful to me.” Despite rumors and media spin portraying Demetrius as a dictator and a tyrant, Iliana saw the real side of him, the warmth, the compassion and his absolute love for Icarus. Everything he did was for his country and, now it seemed, for her. They’d had misunderstandings in the past, butted heads politically, but this was different. Their relationship wasn’t professional anymore. It was on a whole other level.

Casmir came to the garden door and greeted them, kissing Serena’s cheek and patting her belly.

Iliana curtsied to the king of Rizari, out of habit more than a required formality. “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?”

Despite his royal status, he and Iliana had become close friends since he and Serena had married. “I can’t answer that question. You know if it feels right.”

She touched her stomach, which was fluttering with butterflies. “I feel nervous.” She was fully aware of the gravity of the step she was taking. “But happy.”

“Then, I think you answered your own question. He’s waiting for you. Are you ready?” Casimir asked.

Iliana nodded, and Casimir opened the door to the garden.

Iliana stepped across the threshold for the second time that night. Once inside, her worries and doubts melted away, and all she could see was Demetrius waiting for her at the end of the petal-strewn aisle.

He was incredibly handsome, refined yet rugged. She liked that about him. She could envision him swinging an ax as easily as she could imagine him planting seeds in his garden.

Walking toward him, her body felt light; her feet floated on air. She was doing the right thing, allowing love and joy into her life. Iliana welcomed her future with open arms.

* * *

The reception following their intimate wedding ceremony brought several more important faces. Demetrius introduced her to generals in the Icarus army and navy and his political advisers. It seemed everyone who had a hand in running the country was celebrating with them in their home. Despite the last-minute plans and the late-night festivities, their guests were in high spirits.

A few times Demetrius seemed to be in a serious conversation with someone, but then he would find her face in the crowd and they’d share a private smile. He was the president of the country. He had work to do. But tonight was about them.

After a couple of hours, Demetrius swept Iliana into his arms. He addressed the room from the doorway. “Thank you all for coming tonight, but I bid you good night. My wife and I have plans.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and Demetrius’s military men banged their beer mugs against the wooden tables and cheered.

“Demetrius, everyone will know,” Iliana said as he carried her toward his bedroom. Their bedroom.

“That I’m having sex with my wife? So what?”

She wasn’t a prude, but some topics were private matters. “It’s so...intimate.”

Demetrius kissed her on the mouth. “Which is why I did not invite anyone else along.”

She laughed, threaded her fingers around the back of his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. He took the stairs with her in his arms.

“Thank you, Demetrius, for tonight. For making this special for me.”

“You’re my wife. There is nothing I would not do for you, and I expect the same in return.”

A shiver of concern coursed over her as doubts pressed at the edges of her emotions. She had given him her loyalty, her heart and her life. Though they had not explicitly discussed it, she would resign from her position as the queen’s personal secretary. She would live in Icarus with Demetrius. Wasn’t that a lot to give up for him? Did he expect more?

Demetrius entered his bedroom and kicked the doors shut behind them. The room was overflowing with flowers, lilies of all colors set in vases, petals strewn on the floor. Candles flickered in glass containers, illuminating the room.

Demetrius laid her on the bed. “I suppose you’ll be angry if I tear your new dress. You look so lovely in it, and that makes it much harder to be patient.”

She ran her hand over the soft, intricate lace. “You can’t tear it. I want to use it to make baptismal gowns for our children.”

He lifted his eyebrow. “Already we’re discussing children?” She could tell by his expression he liked the idea.

When they were alone, he made little effort to conceal his emotions. In public, he was stone-faced and cold. This warm, spirited side of him stirred her emotions. She felt connected to him, as if she alone got to enjoy this side of him.

“Will you help me remove my dress so I might make love to my husband?”

He loosened his tie around his neck. “Yes. Absolutely. I want you naked of everything except my rings. You must wear my rings.”

She touched the rings on her left hand. “And you must wear mine.”

He removed her dress carefully and laid it over a chair. When they rushed together, Iliana felt the supreme rightness of being in his arms.

* * *

Iliana awoke in Demetrius’s bed. Not Demetrius’s bed. Their bed. Demetrius was gone. She stretched beneath the sheets and then looked for a note. But she found nothing to indicate where he had gone. She ignored the twinge of disappointment. She had wanted to wake with him beside her on their first morning as husband and wife. Perhaps it was a good thing. She was sore. Demetrius was an energetic lover, and she didn’t think she could have sex with him again, which he would inevitably have wanted if she’d awoken in his arms.

She took a shower, pleased to see he had provided women’s shampoo and toiletries for her. That small gesture erased the lingering disappointment of waking without him.

She dressed in the clothes that Serena had brought for her and went in search of her husband. Just thinking of him in those terms made her shiver.

She found Demetrius on the main floor in his office. She entered without knocking. He was wearing a suit, as he often did, standing at the window and was on the phone, his headset clipped to his ear. She circled his desk and slipped her arms around him.

He was speaking French. She hadn’t heard him speak it before. She’d had some basic French lessons in her youth but didn’t remember enough to follow the conversation in any meaningful way.

When he disconnected a few minutes later, she kissed him. “How many languages do you speak?”

“Eight.” His voice was cold, and he removed her hands from around him. “I need to speak with you about a grave matter.”

He had to leave on a trip. Trouble in the Mediterranean. Concern whipped through her. “Are Serena and Casimir all right?”

“They are fine. I would have woken you if this matter involved them. This does involve your family, though.”

Since her parents had died in a tragic car accident years earlier, she hadn’t been able to shake the dread that someone else she loved would be taken from her abruptly. That sense of loss and fear gripped her now. “Please tell me quickly.”

“The king of Valencia is dying.”

Not what she was expecting to hear. “I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t mean to be callous, but how does that involve me?” She knew the king by name, but they hadn’t met. “Do you want me to prepare something to send to his wife and family?” Was this her duty as Demetrius’s wife? She could relate to what the king’s family may be going through, and if she had words of comfort to share to ease their pain, she would.

Demetrius sighed. “I do not want you to send anything. The king wants to see you.”

“Why?” Demetrius was being evasive. Where was the soft, warm and passionate man she had married the night before? It was as if she was with public Demetrius, and she didn’t like it.

He didn’t answer. Something dark and uneasy settled over her. “Demetrius, you need to tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me and acting cold.” It was on the tip of her tongue to mention slipping from their bed without saying good morning, but she didn’t want to fight with him over a trivial problem and she still didn’t understand what this was about.

“You are not the biological daughter of the man and woman who you know as your parents,” he said.

Iliana shook her head. She was. She had pictures from the day of her birth to prove it. “That’s not true.”

“You are the biological daughter of the king of Valencia and his late mistress, Persephone Paphiti. She died in childbirth, and the king asked your parents to adopt you. A blood test will confirm what I’m telling you, or I can provide you the DNA results I have already run.”

So many questions and so much hurt pummeled her at once. She struggled to make sense of it all. “You checked my DNA without telling me?”

“It was a simple matter to ensure I was correct about you and the king.”

Betrayal pulsed through her. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” he asked, this time his voice a little softer.

She retreated a step, putting distance between them. Why was he breaking news of this magnitude in such a cold manner? “How long have you known?”

“For over a year.”

Her jaw slackened. As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, they presented an ugly picture. She had ties to the royal family in Valencia. What did Demetrius want from those connections? She knew Demetrius’s reputation for doing everything with meaning and for a purpose. She had been naive to think he had married her without an agenda.

She had been desperate for a family and for someone to care for her, and she had bought into his ploy. Hard to believe that five hours ago, she had been curled in his arms, moaning his name and falling head over heels for him.

His face was impassive. “I realize that you are upset. I will help you come to terms with this.”

Anger coursed through her, hot and violent. “How do I come to terms with this? You just told me that the people I called Mom and Dad aren’t my parents. Have you thought about my feelings?”

“The people who raised you are your parents in every way that matters. Nothing will change that. All I bring to your attention is that your biological father is dying. If you have questions, answers will only be available as long as he has breath.”

Despite her rage, the words comforted her. Her parents, the people who had loved and raised her, would always be her parents. This curveball did nothing to change that, meant nothing next to their unconditional and unrelenting love for her. She had felt it every day in the way they spoke to her and cared for her.

“If you want to see the king, we need to go now. His condition has worsened, and his days are numbered.”

Though Iliana was furious with Demetrius and still reeling from the bomb he had dropped, she wanted to see the king. It may be her last chance.

* * *

Aboard Demetrius’s private jet, Iliana sat as far from Demetrius as possible. It bothered her that it didn’t seem to bother him. He was working on his laptop, taking calls. He didn’t glance in her direction once. They were traveling with a couple of his servicemen and some of his advisers. Five other men on the plane, not including the pilot and the copilot. So much testosterone.

Iliana glanced at her outfit. A pair of simple black pants and a green top, fitted but not revealing. She was meeting a king after all. She had intended the outfit to catch Demetrius’s eye. Getting his attention had been easy before, and it had pleased her how quickly he had turned his attention to her in any situation when they were together. Now that they were married, not even twelve hours after their wedding, he seemed indifferent to her and that stung.

Had it been an act? Iliana didn’t have great judgment when it came to men. This latest fiasco proved it. She had made an epically bad decision. Not just a bad date, not her sneaking out of a man’s bedroom in the early-morning hours with regrets. This was a whole other level of bad.

She had married the president of Icarus. He was using her as a tool, and she hated that. She still didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but when she figured it out, she would make sure he received the opposite from her.

Was she in love with Demetrius? She had thought so. She desired him. She cared for him. He occupied much of her time, and there was a warm feeling that accompanied thoughts of him—wasn’t that love? Iliana wasn’t sure she had ever been in love before. She loved her parents, her cousins, her family, but romantic love had eluded her. She’d confused lust and passion with love before, and it had ended badly every time.

Everything she felt for Demetrius was called into question. She had imagined their relationship to be a sweeping romance with grand gestures of affection. She’d had that from Demetrius for a short time. Now she had the awful sensation of being exploited and ignored.

Ignored like her biological father had ignored her, handing her off and pretending she didn’t exist. Iliana loved her parents, and while she couldn’t imagine being raised by anyone else, it hurt to know they had kept this secret from her. Perhaps they’d thought they were protecting her. With them gone, she would never have the answers.

Demetrius was telling her the truth about the king of Valencia and Persephone Paphiti. The information could be too easily verified for him to lie about it. Blood tests would be conclusive, and Demetrius didn’t make mistakes. Having eyes and ears everywhere, he knew too much. He was shrewd and he was spot-on in political matters in the Mediterranean.

Demetrius’s reputation preceded him. She had heard and read it all. He was cold and calculating. He killed without mercy. He rammed his agenda through by any means necessary. Iliana hadn’t believed those accusations. She had seen him in another light, and she had felt special because she’d believed herself privy to some secret side of Demetrius.

But that warmth and affection was completely overshadowed by what he had done. He had lied to her. He had manipulated her. He didn’t get the benefit of the doubt anymore.

She would make his life hard. She would make him rue the day he had decided to use her for political maneuvering.

Iliana stood and stretched, letting her shirt ride up a bit. She turned to give Demetrius a look at her profile. She wasn’t vain, but she worked out and she knew she looked good. Demetrius was attracted to her. No way had he faked that. In her peripheral vision, she saw that she had his attention. So she bent over at the waist, touching her toes and wiggling her hips.

If Demetrius wanted to play the “married” card, she would play it, too. Let him see what he could have and what he was missing. She’d deny any advances, and she wouldn’t stand for one moment of him cheating. But she knew he wouldn’t. Demetrius DeSante was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a cheater.

He did, however, move like a panther.

He was at her side in moments. “What are you doing?”

She smelled his cologne, or maybe it was the soap he used, light and spicy. It turned her on, but she tamped down her lust. That ridiculous emotion had ruled her the night before, and she was shutting it off from here on out. “Stretching. My schedule is off. I didn’t work out this morning, and my muscles feel tight.” She pretended to be unaware that he was hard beneath his pants. She tossed the question back at him. “What are you doing?”

He growled in the back of his throat. “Stop it.”

“Stop exercising? Why?”

“You know what you’re doing. Every man in this cabin is staring at you, and I won’t have it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t command people to stop using their eyes.”

“I will remove the eyes of the next person who looks at my wife with lust.” His voice was loud and clear. Everyone looked away from them.

“You are being ridiculous.”

He walked to the entrance to the small bedroom aboard the plane. “A word. Alone, please.”

Iliana followed him into the bedroom. He closed the door behind him. She sensed he was grappling for control. Control of his anger or his lust? She waited.

“Are you trying to antagonize me?”

She smirked at him. “Yes.”

His eyes blazed. “At least you admit it.”

“I want you to apologize,” she said.

He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first button of his shirt. Disheveled looked good on him. “If I say the words, will you stop being upset?”

“You have to say the words and mean them,” she said. “Then I’ll see how I feel.” She would still be angry, but she wanted him to twist a little for what he had done.

He looked her up and down. She felt as if he had touched her. “Iliana, I’ve never been more attracted to another woman than I am to you. What I know about the king of Valencia as it relates to you has nothing to do with that attraction.”

“But you married me because of it.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I would have married you one day. I moved up the timeline because of the king’s health problems.”

Surprising words, and she didn’t know if she could believe them. His admission wouldn’t slake her anger. “You could have been honest with me.”

“I told you about the king when the time was right.”

Right for his plans and for him. The encounter with the assassin the day before flashed to mind. “Do you think the man who tried to kill me was after me because of my connection to the king of Valencia?” She had thought the murder attempt had to do with Serena, or maybe even Demetrius.

“I suspect someone else knows who you are and they want you dead because of it.”

Iliana wished she hadn’t left Acacia. She could have stayed in the castle and dealt with Serena and Casimir’s lovey-dovey behavior for a few days. Anything was better than this. “Going to Valencia seems like a patently bad idea, then, if someone wants to kill me.”

“No one will kill my wife.”

Low self-esteem wasn’t his problem. “You’re not invincible, Demetrius.” She’d heard Casimir and Demetrius telling war stories, and she’d heard rumors of her husband’s prowess in battle. Despite implications to the contrary, he was human.

“I would sooner die than let someone harm you.”

He had spoken similar words before, and it accentuated how different their worlds were. She had never been in a physical confrontation. Acacia had never been to war. Demetrius had battle scars to prove that he had. “Let’s aim for no one dying.”

“We will stay together in Valencia. You will not sneak away. For your safety and the safety of anyone who may make the poor decision to harm you.”

Iliana blinked at him. “I know how to be safe.”

“Were you being safe in Elion last year?”

Of course he would bring that up. She had been nearly mugged, but Demetrius had rescued her. “I made a mistake. I’ve learned from it.”

“Do you want to have sex?” he asked.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Had she misheard him? “Excuse me?”

“You’re sending me mixed signals.”

He looked devastatingly handsome. Black shirt and gray pants, pressed and stylish, his dark hair brushed back from his face. Sliding her fingers into it, letting the silky strands fall between her fingers, would feel good. This wasn’t the first time she had been angry with Demetrius, and the strange part was that she was perpetually attracted to him. She must have a thing for picking the wrong men, as she was clearly a lost cause where Demetrius was concerned. “I’m giving you one signal right now. I’m angry.”

“Some couples counter fights with sex.”

Tempting, but sleeping with Demetrius wouldn’t get it out of her system. She’d want him more. “Couples have sex after the fight is resolved. This is nowhere near resolved.”

“Tell me what I need to do to resolve the fight so I can go back to making love to my wife when she needs me to.”

Those words felt like a caress across her breasts and down her body. “I don’t need sex.” She’d had great sex with him in the early-morning hours. It should tide her over for at least a week. Given her recent dry spell, she could go six months without another man laying a hand on her.

“It would relax you, and you seem very tense right now.”

“We aren’t alone on the plane.”

“My staff won’t interrupt us in here.”

She felt her resolve cracking, but she shored up her defenses. “No sex. You’re still withholding information. I’m withholding sex. You have yet to tell me why you married me.”

“I married you because I wanted to. You can’t pretend that you don’t enjoy it when I touch you. Sex has nothing to do with this fight. Let’s keep the two separate.”

Reasoning that would only make sense to a man. She wouldn’t let him win. “No.”

“Then, let’s call a truce for at least the rest of the flight.”

“No.” If she argued with more than a simple word, he would find a way to negate it. She already felt herself giving in. “You left this morning before I woke up.” She had meant to let that go, but she wanted ammunition and it was sitting right there.

“I wake early. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I wanted to wake beside my husband. Don’t we even get a honeymoon?”

“In the future, I will wake you before I leave our bedroom. I will give you a honeymoon when there is time.”

“That was before. I’m mad now. I don’t want either from you.”

He looked exasperated. She exited the bedroom and returned to her seat.

Demetrius strode to his seat. To her surprise, he moved closer to her. Next to her. Unless she wanted to stand for the rest of the flight, occupy his previous seat next to his advisers and servicemen or return to the bedroom, she was trapped. Trapped in this plane and trapped in this loveless marriage.

Chapter 3

The king of Valencia had been battling brain cancer for two years. Numerous surgeries, chemotherapy and radiation had broken his eighty-year-old body but not the cancer. The king’s imminent death was the Valencian government’s worst-kept secret. Though no media outlets were reporting it, those closest to the king—and Demetrius, via his spies—knew that he had made his peace and was ready.

Emmanuel Floros the First was a man Demetrius respected. Though his personal life was a mess, the king was a fair and honorable man when it came to his politics and his decisions regarding Valencia.

As they drove from the airport to the palace, Demetrius conveyed to Iliana what he thought might be useful information about the king. He hoped to distract her and take off some of the pressure she surely felt from learning she was the king’s daughter and knowing this may be her only shot to get answers from him. She seemed nervous and had been strangely quiet—due in part to punishment for him, no doubt—but given the king’s condition, this visit needed to happen today. Every hour that passed, the window of opportunity closed further.

“The king has had three wives and five children. His first wife gave him three, the second two and his third wife is rumored to be barren. She has been running the country for the past several months. Though she claims she consults the king on matters of importance and relays the information, I suspect the king doesn’t govern much in his current state.”

“I have half siblings.” Iliana sounded mystified.

She wasn’t focused on the politics. She was focused on the heart of the matter. “Yes.”

“I always wanted a sister. I didn’t think I would have one. Are there others like me? Other illegitimate children?”

“None who the king claims,” Demetrius said. The king had slept around on his wives, but it seemed he had been more careful with other mistresses to ensure they did not become pregnant. “Your father and the king were boyhood friends. The king knew you would be safe with him, and, to ensure that, he cut ties with your father completely.”

Her eyes darkened with anger. “Safe from whom?”

“Your half brothers and sisters. The king’s wives. Any number of interested parties would want the king’s love child dead. The king has land and holdings to be divided among his wives and children. Though his first two wives were given large settlements after their divorces, they will receive small parcels of land as tradition dictates because they are the mothers of his children.”

Iliana stared out the window with a faraway look in her eyes. “I should get nothing. I have no claim.”

“The king has named you in his will.” Her eyes swerved to meet his, and he felt the heat and passion in them. He loved that she lived so vibrantly, so fervidly.

“How do you know so much about the king’s will?” she asked.

Demetrius heard the anger in her words. That he had expected, but he had not expected to care as much as he did about her feelings. He usually made decisions, and dissention was ignored. He found it harder to follow that policy with Iliana. “I have a friend in the court system who keeps me informed on these matters.” Since the king had mentioned his illegitimate daughter years earlier, in passing, during a drunken poker game, Demetrius had considered how he could leverage that information to help his brother. Demetrius’s friendship with the king had been precipitated by Demetrius needing influence in Valencia for Alexei.

Little by little, Demetrius had acquired the information about the king’s as yet publically unrecognized daughter until he had gathered enough details to locate Iliana.

“You knew about me before we met. That’s why you were so interested. All that attention you gave me, the time you spent with me and the words you said to me, it was all leading to this.”

The crux of the matter. Nothing he said would convince her that his reasons for marrying her had to do with more than her inheritance. His initial interest was her connection to the king of Valencia, but after he had met her in person, it had developed into much more. “I will state again that I married you because I wanted to do so.”

She frowned at him and then turned her head away again. Demetrius left her to her thoughts.

At the sight of the king’s country estate, Demetrius felt his adrenaline kick up. Demetrius and his servicemen would stay close to Iliana. Though few knew of their visit, those closest to the king would, and they were the people most dangerous to Iliana.

It would have been safer for Iliana to remain in Icarus. It wouldn’t have changed Demetrius’s plans, except Iliana wanted to speak to the king. Not giving her this opportunity robbed her of something she couldn’t reclaim, and Demetrius wouldn’t do that to her. No one should lead a life of regrets.

The king’s wife, Stella, was waiting at the door for them. He’d expected her interest, but Demetrius wondered how involved in the king’s affairs Stella was and what exactly she knew about Iliana.

“President DeSante. I heard that you had an appointment with my husband. Surely you know he is unwell.”

“I am aware of his condition. I need to speak to him.”

Stella didn’t move to allow them to pass. “I didn’t realize you wanted to say goodbye in person.”

Demetrius had met Stella on several other occasions. She was older than Demetrius by a few years and far younger than the king. Their brief courtship and subsequent marriage had been questioned by the country, but if Stella had been unfaithful, she had been discreet about it.

Stella was digging for information, and Demetrius would reveal nothing. He owed Stella zilch. Until he knew who was targeting Iliana, everyone was a possible enemy. It was a hard way to live, but he had been living with enemies at his back for decades. “The king is waiting.”

Stella looked at Iliana. “You must be Iliana Kracos. I saw your name on the visitor request form.”

Iliana stepped forward, extending her hand. No curtseying, though that would have been the accepted practice, and as the personal secretary to the queen of Acacia, Iliana would be well aware of it. Iliana was not playing subservient, and Demetrius loved her for it. “Iliana DeSante now.”

Stella appeared surprised. “You’ve married Demetrius? How...interesting. I wasn’t sure what to make of you accompanying Demetrius on this visit.”

Demetrius wondered how much Stella knew about the king’s will.

“I hope we’ll have time to visit later,” Iliana said. She smiled, and Demetrius hid his amusement. She was giving Stella no information, and she was playing as phony as Stella was.

Stella was standing between him and the hallway leading to the king’s bedroom.

“Excuse us,” Demetrius said. Circumventing the older woman, he and Iliana followed the king’s steward to the king.

* * *

Iliana instantly disliked the king’s wife. It wasn’t only what Demetrius had told her about Stella running the country, but it was clear that the woman was a fake and would have refused Iliana’s visit with the king if Demetrius hadn’t been with her.

Stella seemed afraid of Demetrius, circling him and prodding him indirectly for information. In this case, Iliana was happy Demetrius was here. As much as she didn’t like him right now, his power and courage were inspiring and infectious. Better for the other woman to know her place and not think Iliana was a weakling who could be manipulated.

Iliana didn’t know how she felt about any of this yet, but she wasn’t giving up ground this early. She didn’t want the king’s land or resources, and not because refusing would annoy Demetrius and spoil whatever agenda he was pushing. She didn’t want to be involved in a contentious fight between siblings and their mothers. She was out of place in Valencia. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t know the culture or the traditions, and, aside from sharing genetic material, she had nothing in common with the king.

Her family had been the people who’d raised her. She refused to see them any differently, even if their betrayal and secrets burned hot in her stomach.

Iliana entered the king’s chambers. He was sleeping on a bed in a sterile-looking room surrounded by medical equipment. There were two nurses on duty. A guard was posted by the window, and two more were at the entrance. The shades were open to allow in the sunlight, but the space was still dreary.

She smelled death and disinfectant. Iliana had been near death before. It was a heavy, stale scent, and she felt a combination of sad and nauseated.

No one had said a word. She wondered if the king was sleeping. Should she come back later?

She walked toward the king, unsure if she should speak. Had Demetrius explained why she was here? Would the king know who she was?

Demetrius knelt at the king’s bedside. “My dear friend, Iliana is here.”

The king’s eyes opened. His nurses rushed forward to help him shift to a sitting position, moving pillows and arranging his arms and legs.

“Iliana.” The king’s voice was gruff. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say or for her to feel in response, but she felt sad and empty.

“Are you really my biological father?” she asked.

“Yes. Too late for a happy reunion or a meeting of the minds.” He struggled to take a breath. “I’ve watched you over the years. I am proud of who you are. I was afraid for you, afraid of what those close to me could do if they saw you as a threat. I was troubled you wouldn’t forgive me if you knew the truth. But I have nothing left to lose.”

Not only did she find it disturbing that he had watched her from afar, but she was confused as to why. If he was so proud, why didn’t he take a chance and tell her the truth before today? Time delivered forgiveness. Not to mention, why send the message through Demetrius? “My parents said nothing to me about being adopted.”

“I asked them to keep the secret to keep you safe.”

“Why did you want Demetrius to tell me about you?”

The king closed his eyes, and Iliana wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep. After several labored breaths, he spoke again. “Demetrius has been a good friend to me. When he told me he had found you and had come to care for you, I asked him to protect you and to tell you the truth when the time was right.”

A month ago would have been better, even two months ago.

“It would have come to light after my death, but this way I can look at you, grown and strong. It brings me happiness in my last days.”

He opened his eyes, and this time he smiled at her. “You look like your mother.”

A woman she had no memories of and had only learned existed today. “What can you tell me about her?”

“I met her while I was visiting Kontos. It’s a beautiful and quiet seaside village. She was working at an ice-cream store.”

Before he could continue, Stella swept into the room. “What is this nonsense? Another bimbo with a claim to the throne? I won’t allow it. I won’t allow someone to take advantage of my husband when he is failing. He’s delusional and losing his mind.”

Stella must have been listening at the door. Iliana resented the intrusion.

“You won’t address my wife in that manner again,” Demetrius said. “You will watch your tone. She has made no false claims. She is here at the request of the king.”

The king pointed from his guards to Stella. They moved to escort her out of the room.

Stella shook off the guards and moved toward the door. “If you think I will let some gold digger rob me, you’re mistaken.”

The king coughed, and his nurses rushed to place an oxygen mask over his face. Iliana wanted the king to know she had not come there to make a play for an inheritance, no matter what Stella thought. “I don’t want anything from you,” Iliana said. Had he heard her?

Demetrius looked at her. “It does not matter what you want. You have been named in his will, and it is too late to change it. I fully expect Stella will do her best to manipulate the circumstances, but the law is clear. You will be given your rightful inheritance whether you want it or not.”

* * *

Iliana looked exhausted. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin was pale. The emotional drain of the past twenty-four hours had caught up with her. On the drive to their hotel, she’d fallen asleep, laying her head against the window. Demetrius gathered her against him, wrapping her in his arms. He wanted to shield her from some of the pain, but that was impossible. She had to live through it, push through the hurt and find a sense of peace.

Demetrius wasn’t sure of his role. He was on thin ice. Persuading her to marry him had been part luck, part chemistry and part manipulation. He wouldn’t feel bad about it. He’d done what he had needed to do.

She shifted. “I am mad at you. This doesn’t change that.”

He kissed the top of her head. She was allowing him to hold her, and he wouldn’t question it. She was too tired to fight. He was her ally and he would protect her. He was grateful to have her in his arms.

She wasn’t just a pawn in this game. She meant more to him, and that rattled him. Caring for her made her a liability. He didn’t need another liability.

They parked in the underground parking garage at their hotel and took a private elevator to the penthouse suite. The secrecy was for security. His servicemen would wait by the elevator. He was armed. Demetrius felt better when he was carrying his gun. His military training had been ingrained in him and it was hard to forget the basics: stay alert, have a weapon close and trust no one.

They entered the suite after his servicemen checked it for intruders. Demetrius took his wife’s hand, and led her to the bedroom. He peeled back the sheets. “Rest.” She sat on the edge of the bed, and he knelt at her feet, removing her shoes.

He was tempted to run his hand up her leg but knew she would reject him. She wasn’t giving him any signs she was interested in anything happening between them. He’d need to take this slowly and let her lead. Demetrius wasn’t good at handing over the reins on anything, but he’d have to learn. She lay back onto the pillow, and he covered her with a sheet.

“Why are you watching me?” she asked.

He loosened his tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt. Dress clothes weren’t his style, but as the president of Icarus, he had appearances to maintain. “Because you are beautiful. It’s hard not to stare.”

“I want to go home,” she said, her eyes still closed. She sounded tired and worn.

She meant home to Acacia. “We will return to Icarus after you’ve had some rest. Perhaps the king will be up for talking again.”

She opened her eyes, and unshed tears shone in them. “I don’t want to return to Icarus. I’ve been attacked in my home, I slept with a man who is a total enigma to me, then I married him at midnight, slept with him again, found out I’m an heiress and that my biological father’s wife thinks I’m a bimbo angling for the crown. I need stable and normal. The closest I have to that is Acacia.”

The idea of her returning to Acacia panicked him. He felt her slipping away. Her connection to the king of Valencia was important to him and to Icarus. He needed her.

He would offer everything he had to keep her close. “I will be your rock. I will be anything you need to get through this.”

She blinked, and tears slipped down her temple. “I don’t think so. We made a mistake.” She sat up. “Please be reasonable. Marrying you was impulsive. I was caught up in the moment.”

Marrying her had been part of his careful plan. But revealing that wouldn’t make things better.

“We can fix this. We can have the marriage annulled. The rumors will die in a week, and we can return to our lives as they were before,” she said matter-of-factly, as if she had been thinking about it and had resolved the problem entirely with that one decision.

Their lives before what? Before he had met her? Before he knew about her? “Could you do that? Walk away from me and forget any of this happened?” He could have told her to forget about a divorce and hold that line, but he wanted to convince her. He didn’t want to look too deeply into why it mattered that she accept their marriage as real.

“I wouldn’t forget you. But I could move on.”

Unacceptable and intolerable. “I won’t pretend that I didn’t marry you.”

“You want my inheritance that much? Then take it. Take it and let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” The laws of Valencia were clear. The money she’d inherit was useless to him. He needed her title and her power granted with that title. She was naive if she thought she could walk away without this following her. She wouldn’t survive on her own. The person or people targeting her would succeed in killing her without him to keep her safe.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one interested in Iliana’s inheritance.

She wiped at her eyes and looked at the ceiling. “You’re boxing me into a situation I don’t want.”

“Give me time to prove to you that I am the man you married. I haven’t changed.”

“But who is that? I didn’t know you at all.”

“Let me prove to you I am an honorable man.”

“You have already hurt me and lied to me.”

Demetrius wasn’t accustomed to negotiating. He gave directions, and the people around him followed without question. He struggled to find a compromise, an offer that would change her mind about leaving. “Give me until the king’s will is read. Much will be revealed, and events will be set into motion. I will keep you safe. I will protect you. If after the reading and after you understand the consequences of your inheritance, you don’t want me in your life, I’ll walk away and let you go.” He could offer that because she would change her mind about leaving him. They’d had an undeniable chemistry and given enough time, she would fall to his charms.

“If I refuse my inheritance?” Iliana asked.

He hid his reaction to those words. “That will be your choice, but Valencia has their customs and traditions. Walking away free and clear isn’t an option. The inheritance cannot be given away or denied.”

She shook her head. “What if I had not been found? What if no one knew I was the king’s daughter?”

“He named you in his will. You would have been found, or it would have waited for you.”

“Forever?”

“Perhaps.”

She sighed. “I will stay with you until the reading, then. For my safety.”

Though he was pushing his luck, he set the terms. “You will give our relationship effort. You will sleep beside me, and you will behave as my wife. Give me a chance to convince you that what we have is good and it works. No silent treatment.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “You are not in a position to negotiate.”

“Do you think I will agree to a quiet annulment? If you want your way, you will give me mine in this. You can trust my words.”

“If I behave as your wife, then you’ll give me an annulment after the reading of the king’s will?”

Her words set his teeth on edge. He nodded once, reminding himself their marriage would not end in an annulment or a divorce. “Yes.”

His phone buzzed, and Demetrius reached into his pocket and glanced at the display. It was the head of the National Security Service, a man who went by the name Amon. He answered. “Yes.”

“Nicholas Floros was found dead, floating in the Mediterranean this morning at 11:00 a.m.”

Nicholas Floros, the king’s second son, born to his first wife, Kaliope. Nicholas was a playboy who partied too hard, but if the head of the NSS was calling, his death wasn’t accidental. The timing alone was suspicious.

“Persons responsible?” Demetrius asked.

Iliana was watching him, her mouth pursed. He found her sexy even when she was brooding.

“No leads yet. The body had been in the water since the early-morning hours.”

“Thank you for your call.” Demetrius disconnected.

“Problem?” Iliana asked.

Demetrius could pretend it was a state matter that didn’t concern her. But she seemed eager to flee. Despite her agreement that she wouldn’t, Iliana was a fiery and passionate woman. She could take off running and find herself in danger. “The king’s son Nicholas died this morning.”

Iliana inhaled sharply. “How? Was he murdered?”

Demetrius needed to give her a compelling reason to stay close to him. “I suspect he was. An autopsy will determine cause of death.”

“Someone wants to kill the king’s heirs,” Iliana said.

“Yes.” He would have Amon follow up and see if attempts had been made on the other heirs or if any suspicious incidents had occurred of late that had been reported to the police or the royal guards.

Iliana shivered. “I don’t want the inheritance. I don’t know the king. I won’t ever know him. Why should I be given anything? And at what cost? My life?”

“You are safe with me.”

Demetrius’s phone buzzed again. Another call he needed to take. He excused himself and stepped into the living room.

* * *

Iliana thought she might come out of her skin. She was tired and cranky and felt completely out of sorts.

She had imagined spending the days following her wedding wrapped in her husband’s arms, perhaps lounging on a hot beach or swimming in the warm waters off the Hawaiian Islands. Not holed up in a hotel room in Valencia, worried about being killed because of her newly discovered connection to the king.

Iliana dialed Serena and was pleased when her cousin answered.

“How is the bride today?” Serena asked.

Serena sounded happy, and Iliana wished she had good news to share in return. “Haven’t you heard? I’m in Valencia.”

“That’s a strange place for a honeymoon.”

“Not on my honeymoon. Demetrius brought me here after he told me that my father is the king of Valencia.”

Serena scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. I knew your father and your mother. Was it a strange cover story for an elaborate surprise?”

She wished it had been a weird joke. “The king confirmed it’s true.”

Serena’s silence indicated she was as bewildered as Iliana. Iliana was relieved to know that Serena, one of the people she trusted most in the world, hadn’t been keeping the secret from her.

“I don’t know what to say about that. Are you okay? Are you sure the king has the right woman?”

“Demetrius tested my DNA.”

“That was fast.”

“He tested it before we married. He knew who I was for months.”

Serena swore, and since she rarely did, it had an impact. “I’ll call Casimir and find out what he knows.”

“Demetrius already said he told Casimir nothing about this matter.”

“That’s good news for Casimir.”

Iliana smiled, thinking of how strong her cousin had become. Since being crowned queen, she had found confidence and happiness. “Did you learn anything about the break-in at my place?” Iliana guessed the trail would lead to Valencia, if it hadn’t already.

“The police chief is looking into it. The man was a hired assassin. I assume there’s a connection to this news about the king.”

“I heard from Demetrius that another of the king’s heirs was killed. Someone wants us dead.”

“Slow down for one minute. Who else besides Demetrius knew you were one of the king’s heirs?”

A great question. Since she hadn’t known herself, Iliana didn’t have answer. “I can’t imagine.”

Serena groaned. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but you need to stay close to Demetrius.”

“Even after he lied to me?”

Iliana heard Serena drumming her fingers against her desk, a nervous habit she displayed when she was thinking hard. “Demetrius is a difficult man. I want to talk to Casimir about this, but I think Demetrius will protect you. If Demetrius is involved in this, he has a goal in mind and will keep you safe while accomplishing it.”

She didn’t want to be part of his plan, a tool to use to meet his agenda. “He only married me because I’m the king’s heir. I am so angry and confused. What is it that he wants from me?” She had hoped he’d wanted to share his life with her, but now even the thought seemed ridiculous and naive.

“He wants more than your inheritance. I saw how he looked at you.”

“He was playing a game.” More than anything, she wanted to be convinced that Demetrius cared for her, for her nagging distrust of him to be silenced.

“I can’t believe that,” Serena said. “Think about how he has behaved since you met. He has a soft spot for you, and he’s a man who has a soft spot for no one. Even if he had another motive, if he went through this trouble to use you for his purposes, then you are valuable to him. I can’t imagine you being in a safer place. The man is ruthless.” Serena paused. “Unless you think he would turn on you?”

Demetrius wouldn’t physically harm her. He didn’t have it in him. He was cold and calculating, but he wouldn’t lay his hands on her in anger. “I am physically safe with Demetrius.”

“If you want to return home to Acacia, you know you are welcome anytime, right?”

“Of course.” Except, speaking the words, Iliana felt out of place. She had lived in Acacia all her life. Her memories were only of Acacia and her parents. To think that she didn’t belong now because she was the biological daughter of someone else was wrong. But somehow, she felt shaken. As though a piece had been pulled from the foundation of her life and now everything on top was shifting and rocking.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.