The King's Bought Bride (Royal House of Leone Book 1)

by Jennifer Lewis

  “Please hold for a moment.” The receptionists tense voice sent Emma’s pulse into overdrive. Had something happened to Jonas? She paced back and forth on the shiny marble floor.

  “Ms. Leone, this is Doctor Fleiss. I’m afraid Jonas is rather ill. He had ingested a cocktail of substances, and we haven’t yet unraveled what they are. He was unconscious when he was brought in.”

  “Oh, no! Has he regained consciousness?”

  “Yes, but he’s acting delirious. We’ll know more as the drugs leave his system. You do know that he left of his own accord?”

  “Of course. I know it was his own fault.” Were they going to kick him out? She couldn’t stay there in Altaleone if he would be released on his own—obviously very stupid—recognizance in New York. But how could she leave?

  She was in a really difficult and pointless situation if Jonas refused to stay in rehab. And what had he done to himself? Would he even recover? “Can he stay?”

  “Of course. We’ll update you with his progress but do call any time.” The words were welcoming but the tone rather dismissive. After she hung up Emma found herself shaking so hard she could barely hold her phone.

  “What’s the matter?” Darias’s concerned voice startled her.

  “It’s Jonas.” She glanced toward the drawing room doorway. It was bad enough that his family had learned her brother was a junkie; they didn’t need to know this latest wrinkle. “He got out of The Fountains and took drugs. He’s back there now but very ill.”

  “You want to go to him, don’t you?”

  She bit her lip. “He doesn’t deserve anyone to care about him. I tell myself that, but he’s my brother…you know?”

  “Of course.” Darias put his hands on her shoulders. “We can fly to New York together.”

  “What? You’ve only just been crowned king. I’m sure that would cause kind of a scandal.”

  “We don’t have to tell anyone the reason. We can blame my art career.”

  “Which would be a whole other scandal.” She wanted to laugh. “Who ever heard of a king who makes art?”

  “It’s hard to imagine I’m the first.” He looked rueful. “I suppose the other ones were wily enough to do it in secret.”

  “Let’s wait and see how things pan out. He’s detoxing—again—and I guess once the drugs are out of his system they can see how much damage has been done.” She said a silent prayer that Jonas hadn’t used all nine lives that he seemed to have. “It’s not the first time he’s nearly killed us with worry. He had a motorcycle crash when he was eighteen and broke his back. It was the prescription painkillers that got him started on drugs.”

  “Poor baby. You’ve been through a lot. I wish I could just lift all your burdens.” The affectionate term touched her. So far he’d certainly done his best to make her life smooth and easy, even if it wasn’t really her life at all.

  Then Darias frowned and she wondered what he was thinking. “Perhaps Jonas should come live here for a while. It’s very unlikely he’ll be able to find drugs in Altaleone, and we’ll have all the family and staff to look after him.”

  Emma stared. “Here? To the palace?” He had to be kidding. “I’m sure your Aunt Liesel would love that.” She spoke quietly so as not to be overheard by the sharp-tongued woman.

  Darias laughed. “I’m sure she would. She might scare some sense into him. But seriously, think about it. In a situation like this it’s best to be surrounded by family.”

  But they’re not his family, she wanted to protest. She couldn’t bring herself to, though. It was the most warm, generous and caring offer she’d ever heard in her life.

  Shame she’d never take him up on it in a million years. Darias didn’t know Jonas. Her brother was a loose cannon who’d have no trouble telling Liesel that she looked like a weasel in a wig, and he wouldn’t hesitate to lift priceless objects from the palace collection if he thought he could get away with it.

  And even if Darias thought there were no drugs in Altaleone, Jonas would be sure to find some anyway. He had a real talent for it.

  She sighed. It was horrible to think such negative thoughts about her own brother, but she knew that at this point his only real hope was effective professional help. “That’s the kindest offer I could imagine, but I know he’s better off at The Fountains. It’s a physical addiction. They have drugs and therapy to help him get past that. If he comes here now, he’ll still be in the grip of it.”

  “I understand.” He stroked her back softly, so tenderly she could imagine for a moment that he truly loved her—that they really were family. “What can we do to take your mind off it? Shall we choose some things for our new home from the local stores?”

  “Okay.” She managed a shaky smile. “That sounds nice. I think I need some air.”

  They spent the afternoon strolling through beautiful old Casteleone, choosing luxurious bedding from one ancient—yet very chic—store and towels and bathroom effects from another. They had lunch at a lovely outdoor café and shared a pastry while walking under an avenue of trees.

  “It’s a tough life, this royal thing,” she joked, as she dusted pastry crumbs off her hands. “I don’t know how you’ve managed for this long.”

  His mouth tipped into his familiar wry smile. “I’ve done my best to avoid it by living overseas, but I guess now I’m stuck with it. Unfortunately I’m expected to buy expensive things often to support the local economy. Speaking of which…”

  And the next thing she knew he led her to the jeweler and bought her a gorgeous gold necklace with a tiny dove charm. She held her breath as he fastened it around her neck. “It was prettier before I put it on you,” he said softly. “Your beauty rather eclipses everything around it.”

  “Flatterer,” she teased. “If you talked like that in New Jersey, you might get a drink thrown at you.”

  “Maybe I’ll have to try it some time.”

  It was hard to imagine her and Darias in New Jersey, though she couldn’t figure out why. Surely they’d go to New York together sooner or later, even if just for his art. She could take him to visit her old neighborhood.

  Or not.

  “I want to paint you tonight.”

  “I’d like that.” She relished the idea of being all alone with him in his private studio, away from prying eyes. “You need to set up a studio in the old castle.”

  “Truth. Let’s go buy some supplies.” And they headed off down another cobbled street toward an old art supply shop with a bowed glass window.

  I’m living in a fairy tale, she thought, climbing the worn steps to the store.

  “Darias!” A woman’s voice made them both turn. “I have something for you.”

  She was tall, with long dark hair falling past her shoulders, dressed in a fitted yellow dress that made her look like a supermodel from the 1960s.

  “Gemma.” He sounded stunned. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know.” The stunning woman didn’t even glance at Emma. Was this the long-lost love that Liesel hinted at?

  Of course it isn’t. Don’t be ridiculous! Get over yourself and…

  She stiffened as the woman gave Darias a warm kiss on the cheek. He hesitated for a moment before pulling back. “Gemma, meet my wife, Emma.”

  Emma tried to force a smile to her lips. It was creepy how their names sounded similar. Emma thrust out a hand to shake, but the other woman didn’t move. She had a small package in her right hand. Emma pulled her hand back.

  She didn’t say nice to meet you, because for some reason—that she couldn’t quite put her finger on—it wasn’t.

  “Gemma and I have known each other since we were both knee-high.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding or the coronation. I was on assignment in Kabul.”

  “Gemma’s a foreign correspondent for a big Paris paper,” Darias explained. “You’d have been bored by it, anyway. You never did like big occasions. Is this a wedding gift?”

/>   She laughed. “No. And open it in private.” She thrust the package at him. It was wrapped in black paper with a white ribbon. “I’ll catch you later.” She turned and left while Darias was still examining the package. He finally looked up to see her long, tanned legs striding away down the street.

  “She was always a handful.” He looked wistful.

  Emma battled the green monster writhing to life inside her. “I wonder what she gave you?” She hoped he wouldn’t really open it in private. She was burning to know what was in it.

  “I don’t know.” He weighed the box with his hand. “Too heavy to be cuff links.”

  “You should open it.”

  He lifted a brow. “I’m not so sure. I think I’ll wait.”

  Emma could visualize a sex toy or a framed naughty picture of Gemma or— Her imagination was running away with her. “Okay. Shall we go in?” She looked back at the art supply shop, which Darias seemed to have forgotten about.

  He stood, turning over the package in his hands. “I’m too curious.” He plucked at the ribbon. Emma’s heart rate quickened as he pulled the ribbon off and slid a finger inside the paper. She tried not to lean in and peek.

  He pulled back the paper and opened the box.

  A blistering expletive fell from his lips before he clapped the lid back on like all the evils of the world might escape. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Darias ran after Gemma, but she’d rounded a corner and when they got there, she’d disappeared. An old man crossed the street very slowly with a small white dog at his heels.

  “Damn it!”

  “What was it?”

  Darias drew in a steadying breath. He didn’t want to tell Emma. She might worry. Or worse yet, tell his mom.

  It was so small, really, for an artifact that had caused so much trouble over the centuries. He could hold it in the palm of his hand—bright, pure gold inset with rough, uncut rubies.

  He’d seen it once before. His grandmother had shown it to him when he was little, telling him it would one day be his. How had it left his grandmother’s possession and fallen into the hands of Gemma Cressi?

  This was his initiation into the Cross of Blood society. He’d never even spoken to anyone about it, but somehow they knew. He shoved the box down into the pocket of his jacket.

  “Darias, what’s going on?”

  “Did you see it?” He wasn’t sure how much she already knew.

  “No.” Her lips were pale. She looked so cold he wanted to hug and kiss her until color rose to her cheeks.

  But now wasn’t the time. “I need to put this under lock and key.”

  “What is it?” Her voice rose on her repeated question.

  Was it wrong of him to keep it a secret from her? Maybe she deserved to know. A man wasn’t supposed to keep secrets from his wife. Was she his wife? Sometimes he wasn’t sure. When they were alone in bed together she felt like she was—

  He pulled the box from his pocket and lifted the lid. He watched her expression as she stared, then she surprised him by reaching into the box and picked up the cross and its heavy chain.

  She laughed, shocking him. “She gave you this? When are you supposed to wear it?”

  Now he laughed, too. So much tension, waiting to explode. “You think it’s funny?”

  “Well, yes. I thought she’d give you something intimate, a secret memento or something from your shared past.”

  “You thought she was my girlfriend?” He lifted a brow.

  “Yes. What else would I think?”

  He sighed. She had been his girlfriend, of course. Long ago. That was all in the distant past. Obviously, she now had a more official role to play. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s some kind of…ambassador. This is the infamous Cross of Blood.”

  He closed the box and put it away. Somehow it felt dangerous to have it exposed to the air on a public street.

  Emma watched him put the box back in his pocket. “I suppose this is part of your initiation into the group.”

  “Yes, except that I never told anyone except you that I planned to join it.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone, either.” She looked startled, as if accused.

  “I know that. It is possible that I’m being spied on, of course. And perhaps we were overheard. I wasn’t entirely secretive about something that would soon become known anyway. Still…” What did it mean that they were entrusting him with their most precious object? “They’re obviously risk takers. This must be worth millions just for the value of such large rubies. I guess they don’t think I’m going to skip town with it.”

  “People do know where to find you when you’re the king. We should put it somewhere safe. Maybe the armory?”

  Darias inhaled. “I’m not sure the royal guard is even aware that it ever left the armory in the first place. This needs to be a secret for now. Until I answer some questions. Every day I have more of them.” They started walking down the street. He could get art supplies any time. Right now he needed to get this hidden safely away somewhere in the old castle. “I’d like us to move in starting tomorrow. We can renovate later. I’ll feel more secure in the old structure. It’s harder to hide spyware in solid stone walls than it is in lathe and plaster.”

  “True, and there will be fewer people around.”

  “Will you be lonely?” He hadn’t considered that she might be almost all alone there most days.

  “I’ll be fine. It will give me time to read, and I’ll visit your mom regularly.”

  Darias was touched. “That’s sweet of you to think of her.”

  She laughed. “I’m thinking of myself. I really enjoy her company. And perhaps I can do something to help with the schools here. I am a teacher after all. I don’t want to burden you with figuring out how to keep me busy, though. I can work that out by myself.”

  His chest swelled with pride. Emma was way more than just a pretty girl who looked convincingly like a queen. She had noble qualities that anyone could admire. How funny that she made a much better queen than any of the wealthy, spoiled heiresses and “princesses” that had been shoved in his path over the years.

  “I’m sure that whatever you choose to do it will be a blessing for Altaleone.” They turned up the hill toward the castle. He could almost feel the ancient cross burning a hole in his pocket.

  They had him now. By accepting it, he’d accepted a thrown gauntlet, a challenge.

  The most important thing was to keep the rest of his family—including Emma—safe. And it was his duty as king to protect his own life and the future of Altaleone. That might be the trickiest part of all.

  Emma tried to stay out of the way as staff moved their effects from the palace to the old castle. Halfway through, she remembered her contract still sitting on top of the wardrobe in her first room in the palace.

  She had to get it now. Once they were moved out she’d have no excuse to even go back up to the second floor of the palace. Right now she had the pretext of checking for missing items, even in the old room.

  Darias was off somewhere meeting with someone, so she decided not to tell him. She grabbed her bag and headed out for the palace on foot. She realized as she was walking that this was her first solo voyage through the streets of Altaleone.

  Without her royal husband as protection, people stared at her far more boldly. Two handsome young men even smiled and waved, and she wasn’t at all sure how to respond. She could hardly just ignore them as if they were construction workers on the streets of NYC.

  She smiled politely and kept walking. Fast.

  At the palace she greeted the guards at the door, then headed upstairs, hoping not to run into any family members. Darias’s siblings had mostly trickled back to their busy lives, but his mom and Beatriz were usually somewhere nearby.

  No one. Good.

  She turned and headed along the corridor. Which door was it? They all looked the same when they were closed. Possibly some were still occupied by lingering guests from t
he coronation. She remembered it was the third one, though.

  Hesitating outside the door, she knocked. No answer. She looked in both directions and saw that no one was coming, then she tried the handle.

  Damn. It was locked.

  Reaching into her wallet she pulled out her old library card. Were there security cameras trained on this hallway? She couldn’t see any. She shoved her card in between the door and the frame and slid it down. The lock popped to the side and she pushed the door open.

  If anyone saw that they’d probably think that—in addition to being a Jersey girl with a junkie brother—she was a petty thief. She closed the door behind her and locked it. If the room was still bugged or under video surveillance, she’d be screwed. She hurried to the wardrobe, raised her arm up and stood on tiptoe so she could reach the top.

  Ugh. There was a sort of parapet on the front of the wardrobe so the area behind it was lower. She hadn’t realized that when she’d shoved the envelope up there. She groped around with her fingers but couldn’t feel anything but raw, unvarnished wood.

  She carried the chair from the dresser over to the wardrobe, removed her shoes, then stood—very gingerly—on it. The chair was antique and probably quite fragile. She hoped she didn’t plummet through it.

  Up a full two feet higher, she still couldn’t feel the piece of paper. Was this the right room? She looked around. Yes. Same bedding, same pictures on the wall. This was definitely the place.

  She leaned in further and felt again. Yes! She felt the corner of a piece of paper. She reached for it with her fingertips, leaning further and further in until she managed to get thumb and finger around it and grab it.

  She pulled it back, gasping with relief and climbed very carefully down off the chair.

  But when she looked at the paper, her heart almost stopped beating.

  It wasn’t the contract at all.

  Between her thumb and finger she held a single sheet of white paper. Written on it in a thick black script were the words, “Your secret is safe with me.” And a smiley face.