by C. J. Miller
“I need you to forgive me,” he said.
“No.” Her mouth said one thing, her body another. She reached for his shoulders and drew him closer.
“I want you, Serena. I’ll always want you.”
“What you want isn’t relevant.”
“Then tell me what you want and I will make it happen.”
Serena narrowed her gaze on him. “You plan to take the throne from Warrington?”
“Yes. I will take the throne and expose him as a liar and a murderer.”
“And then what? DeSante is spoiling for war.”
“He is not spoiling for war. You have it mixed up. It’s Warrington who wants war.”
“If you become king of Rizari, you will make amends to DeSante. Then you will release me from any obligation to Rizari. I will rule Acacia.”
He nodded. “I can promise you peace and I have no quarrel with you ruling Acacia. I have told you before that you are the right woman for the job. I am glad that you’ve accepted it.”
“Are you behind the assassination of my father and the attempts on my life?”
He had denied it before, but maybe she needed the words again. “No.” The denial was immediate and adamant because it was the truth. The idea of hurting her was revolting to him. “I will never hurt you. If you trust me to do as I say I will, I will make it my goal to never, ever cause you pain again.”
Serena closed her eyes for a long moment. “That is a promise you will keep, but only as the leader of Rizari. I will never again be yours in any way other than as the queen of Acacia.”
The words burned through him, but Casimir wouldn’t push now. He couldn’t lose her, but it would take time. She was angry and lashing out. “I will need your help.”
She tensed. “Now you want my forgiveness and my help?”
“To grow closer to King Warrington and expose his lies. To take my place as the rightful king.”
He waited for her answer, knowing his plans hinged on her saying yes.
* * *
Serena understood anger. She understood wanting revenge for pain and loss. Her need to settle the score with whoever had killed her father and sister was dimmed by the overwhelming sense of grief that seemed to take up every spare inch of her emotional capacity.
She had to do what was right for herself and right for Acacia. Regardless of what Casimir had wanted, her country came first.
Serena entered her solarium, her head held high. Samuel and his mother were waiting for her. “Thank you for meeting me this morning.”
Katarina took a sip of her tea and smiled thinly. “We are very busy and surprised by your invitation. After the assassination attempt on Samuel, we’ve been trying to stay out of the spotlight. Please explain what was so important that you must speak to us today.”
Serena took her seat kitty-corner from Samuel and his mother and tried not to let Katarina’s words annoy her. “I’ve read the merger agreement.”
“I think you’ve found it’s more than fair, given your position?” Samuel asked.
Serena laughed and shook her head. Samuel and Katarina exchanged looks. It was Serena’s intention to set them off-kilter. “Not equitable at all. You have too many demands for me. You think I’m in the weaker position, but I have something that you need. I think this will make you feel more open to negotiations. Guards!”
Her guards escorted a handcuffed Casimir into the room. They stood on either side of him.
“What is this supposed to be? You’re arresting your lover?” Samuel asked.
Serena clucked her tongue. “You misunderstand our relationship. I wanted to expose this man for the fraud he is. You know this man as Casimir Cullen. I’ve learned his identity is Constantine Casimir Warrington the fourth, rightful heir to the throne of Rizari.” She took a moment to let Samuel and his mother chew on that before continuing. “If you want this information to remain between us, you will offer me better terms.” She picked up her merger paperwork from the coffee table and handed it to Samuel. “You can read this over, but it’s not negotiable. If you want Casimir in your custody, you will agree to do what I have spelled out in that document.”
Katarina rose to her feet. “This man has no claim to the throne.”
“The law of Rizari says otherwise.”
“I’d heard rumors...but I thought they were just that,” Katarina mumbled. She straightened. “That is ludicrous. You can’t make demands. I will not let you destroy what we have worked for.”
Serena inclined her head. “What is it that you’ve worked for exactly?”
Katarina narrowed her eyes on Serena. “You think you’re so smart and you have it all figured out. I could kill you right now and no one would stop me.”
Since both Casimir and her guards were in the room, she doubted that. “You would threaten me in my castle?”
“You seem fit to threaten the king of Rizari,” Samuel said.
Katarina grabbed the gun from the guard to her left. She leveled it at Serena. “You’ve overplayed your hand. I have had more time to build allies. One very important ally who will swear that whatever I speak is truth. I won’t cow to your threats. We will take this man, this fraud, as our prisoner and I will kill you to keep the truth silenced.”
Confused by Katarina’s declaration, Serena rose to her feet.
Santino entered the solarium. “Looks like I’ve arrived in time. Ladies, please. Let’s not let this fly out of hand. Katarina, don’t let your temper spoil our plans. We’ve worked far too long and hard to clear the way to allow a misstep to ruin us.”
The familiarity between Uncle Santino and Katarina disturbed her. How did they know each other?
Katarina lowered the gun. “You have two minutes to convince me why I shouldn’t kill your niece.”
Santino glanced at Serena, his eyes flat and cold. “Because we can use her. Because if you kill her, the next heir is that twit Iliana. She is far less pliable and already close with Demetrius DeSante.”
“Mother, what is this about? Someone had better tell me what’s going on!” Samuel said.
Katarina held up her hand to her son. “Samuel, just shut up and let me handle this.”
“Let you handle it like you handled killing King Alagona and Uncle Constantine? Like you killed my father? Like you killed Danae?” His rage was white-hot and Serena sensed he had known the truth, and it had been killing him.
“You monster!” Serena leapt onto Katarina, landing a punch across her face. The gun popped free and skidded across the floor. Casimir dove for it, his handcuffs swinging from his arm.
Casimir was now armed, as were her guards.
Before relief could settle on her, her guards turned their guns on Casimir. “Do not shoot him. He is not our enemy. Katarina is.”
Santino came at Serena, grabbing her by the arm. “You little idiot! What game are you playing?”
“Let her go, Santino, or I will shoot you.”
Santino threw her to the floor and whirled on Casimir. “You’ve made a grave miscalculation. The guards in this castle work for me. They always have. At my command, they will kill you before you have a chance to get a shot off. They’ve been following you at my direction. I knew you were more than a wealthy playboy. I was right. I should have had you killed weeks ago.”
Katarina rose to her feet and appeared smug. “Everything I’ve done has been for my son and the good of Rizari. If that means I have to kill the queen of Acacia and her lover to clear the way, I have no problem with that.”
“Enough! All of you!” Samuel said. “Danae was murdered because of you.” He choked back a sob. “I won’t allow this to go any further. I should have stopped you after she died. When she died, a piece of me did, too.” Grief underscored every word.
Samuel had loved Danae. Seeing his behavior in that light shed nuances on his behavior and explained much of his distance and his treatment of her. Somehow, knowing he had loved Danae was a salve on that hurt.
“Don’t be weak,” Kat
arina said. “I’ve done this for you, Samuel, so you could be king.”
“So you could have control of Rizari and use me to do it!” Samuel screamed. He picked up a crystal vase from the table next to him and swung it at Katarina. She screamed in pain as it shattered across her face.
Casimir aimed his gun at Santino. “As the rightful heir to the throne in Rizari, in union with the queen of Acacia, I command you to drop your weapons. You will be rewarded for your loyalty. Disobedience will be punished.”
“Shoot him! Shoot him!” Santino screamed.
The guards exchanged confused looks. They didn’t know whose direction to follow.
Casimir shot Santino in the knee and he dropped to the ground, screaming.
“Last warning!” Casimir said.
The guards laid their guns on the ground, raised their hands, and backed away.
Serena picked up the guns, never letting her eyes leave her uncle. Samuel sat on the couch and wept.
* * *
Santino was being loaded into an ambulance. He was handcuffed to his gurney. Katarina was being treated by another paramedic on the scene.
In exchange for a lesser sentence, Samuel was spilling everything he knew about his mother and Santino’s plot to make him king.
Years earlier, his mother had driven a wedge between Casimir’s parents, forcing Anna out of the country by accusing her of having an affair with the king’s brother, Katarina’s husband. Katarina had arranged for the murder of King Constantine and her husband while they were on a hunting trip.
Katarina had then planned the murder of King Alagona, hoping to put Samuel in a position of leadership and power when he married Danae, the heir apparent to the throne in Acacia. Danae’s death had been an accident. The threats against Serena had been tools to scare her into agreeing to marry King Warrington and merge with Rizari.
Casimir had a legitimate claim to the throne and an investigation was under way to prove it. Demetrius DeSante and Casimir had already been working on building the case. The matter should be simple to verify.
When Casimir assumed power, Acacia, Rizari and Icarus would have true and stable peace in their region for the first time in a century. His mother would have peace in her heart.
Casimir strode toward Serena, his shoulders back, his head high. He looked regal and unburdened. “I want you to know that I will do everything I promised. I will support Acacia as an ally and you as the queen. I will make peace with Icarus.”
Serena folded her hands in front of her to keep from reaching for him. “Thank you, Casimir. You have everything you want now.” He would be king of his nation. Why didn’t he seem happier? Was he masking his emotions to appear in control?
“Not everything I want.” He knelt in front of her, taking her hands gently in his. “I was bent on seeking revenge. But I’ve discovered that, more than revenge, I want you. I want you in my life. I will do anything you ask if you will give me another chance. I will walk away from all of this. I’ll live with you in Acacia and be your faithful servant.”
He was offering to abandon everything he had worked for. “What about Rizari? What about the throne?”
“I will pass the crown to someone else.” The ease with which he could give up his kingdom told her that she was far more important to him than she had believed.
She ran her fingertips down the side of his face. “Casimir, you can’t do that. You can’t walk away from Rizari. Your country needs you.”
His eyes shone with longing. “What about you? Do you need me?”
She felt tears welling in her eyes. What was being offered to her was rare and precious. All she had to do was reach out and accept it. “I do need you. I want you at my side whether that’s on the throne, on the beach or in bed.”
“Come here,” Casimir said, dragging her into his arms.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked.
He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Never too much work for this. Never too much to take time to tell you that I love you.”
“I love you, too, Casimir.”
“Then will you do me the honor of marrying me and being my wife?”
Joy erupted in her heart. She didn’t think she could have been happier until that moment. “Yes, I will marry you, Constantine.”
He groaned. “No one calls me that.”
“But you’re the fourth in a line of kings. What would you think about starting a family and giving you a fifth?”
Casimir kissed her long and hard. “I’ve always loved how your mind works.”
* * * * *
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Keep reading for an excerpt from PROTECTING THE COLTON BRIDE, by Elle James.
SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
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Can this Colton cowboy save his wife—and his beloved ranch—when a killer threatens everything they hold dear?
Read on for a sneak preview of
PROTECTING THE COLTON BRIDE
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the fourth book in the 2015
COLTONS OF WYOMING continuity.
“Why don’t we get married?”
Even though she’d known it was coming, it still hit her square in the chest. The air rushed from her lungs and a tsunami of feelings washed over her. A surge of joy made her heart beat so fast she felt faint. She crested that wave and slid into the undertow of reality. “A marriage of convenience?”
“Exactly.” Daniel reached for her hands.
When she hid them behind her back, he dropped his arms. “It wouldn’t have to be forever. Just long enough to satisfy the stipulations of your grandmother’s will and save your horses, and that would help me get past the Kennedy gauntlet. We could leave tomorrow, spend a night in Vegas, find a chapel and it would be over in less than five minutes.”
With her heart smarting, Megan forced a shaky smile. “Way to sweep a girl off her feet.”
He waved his hand and Halo tossed her head. “If you want, I can make an official announcement in front of my family.”
Megan shook her head. “No.”
“No, you won’t marry me?”
“No.” She pushed past him to pace down the center of the barn. “Your plan is insane.”
“Do you have a better one?” he asked. “I’m all ears.”
The plan was the same as the one she’d been thinking of before Daniel had woken up. Only when she’d dreamed it up, it didn’t sound as cold and impersonal as Daniel’s proposal. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’d hoped that marriage to Daniel would be something more than one of convenience.
After yesterday’s kiss, she wasn’t sure she could be around Daniel for long periods of time without wanting another. And another.
Don’t miss
PROTECTING THE COLTON BRIDE
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Available September 2015
www.Harlequin.com
Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books, S.A.
Read on for a sneak preview of FATAL AFFAIR,
the first book in the FATAL series
by New York Times bestselling author
Marie Force.
Fatal Affair
by Marie Force
Chapter 1
The smell hit him first.
“Ugh, what the hell is that?” Nick Cappuano dropped his keys into his coat pocket and stepped into the spacious, well-appointed Watergate apartment that his boss, Senator John O’Connor, had inherited from his father.
“Senator!” Nick tried to identify the foul metallic odor.
Making his way through the living room, he noticed parts and pieces of the suit John wore yesterday strewn over sofas and chairs, lay
ing a path to the bedroom. He had called the night before to check in with Nick after a dinner meeting with Virginia’s Democratic Party leadership, and said he was on his way home. Nick had reminded his thirty-six-year-old boss to set his alarm.
“Senator?” John hated when Nick called him that when they were alone, but Nick insisted the people in John’s life afford him the respect of his title.
The odd stench permeating the apartment caused a tingle of anxiety to register on the back of Nick’s neck. “John?”
He stepped into the bedroom and gasped. Drenched in blood, John sat up in bed, his eyes open but vacant. A knife spiked through his neck held him in place against the headboard. His hands rested in a pool of blood in his lap.
Gagging, the last thing Nick noticed before he bolted to the bathroom to vomit was that something was hanging out of John’s mouth.
Once the violent retching finally stopped, Nick stood up on shaky legs, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and rested against the vanity, waiting to see if there would be more. His cell phone rang. When he didn’t take the call, his pager vibrated. Nick couldn’t find the wherewithal to answer, to say the words that would change everything. The senator is dead. John’s been murdered. He wanted to go back to when he was still in his car, fuming and under the assumption that his biggest problem that day would be what to do about the man-child he worked for who had once again slept through his alarm.
Thoughts of John, dating back to their first meeting in a history class at Harvard freshman year, flashed through Nick’s mind, hundreds of snippets spanning a nearly twenty-year friendship. As if to convince himself that his eyes had not deceived him, he leaned forward to glance into the bedroom, wincing at the sight of his best friend—the brother of his heart—stabbed through the neck and covered with blood.
Nick’s eyes burned with tears, but he refused to give in to them. Not now. Later maybe, but not now. His phone rang again. This time he reached for it and saw it was Christina, his deputy chief of staff, but didn’t take the call. Instead, he dialed 911.
Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart and making a supreme effort to keep the hysteria out of his voice, he said, “I need to report a murder.” He gave the address and stumbled into the living room to wait for the police, all the while trying to get his head around the image of his dead friend, a visual he already knew would haunt him forever.