by Randol, Anna
“On your good days.” Her hand dipped into his trousers. “On my good days, I’m much worse.”
His fingers found her breast. “Then why did you pick me?”
Her breath gasped against his neck. “Because I cannot survive without you.”
They were the words he needed to hear. Had needed to hear his entire life.
But he forced himself to pull back and look in her eyes. And finally their amber depths were free of reservations. Completely free of doubt.
She truly wanted all of him.
His shoulder was too sore to lift her again so instead he pointed to the bed. He’d meant to accompany it with a witty quip, but her teeth grazed his earlobe and all he managed was a deep groan.
She’d rendered Ian speechless. His inarticulation told her more than his words ever could have. So she took pity on him, leading him to the bed and pulling him down on top of her.
His hands made quick work of her dress and shift, and soon she was scrambling to free them from under her.
He pressed kisses down the valley between her breasts, across her navel, and then lower. She writhed under him.
Making love to him earlier had been indescribable, but strangely, she could describe this.
This was pure joy.
Each touch was more pleasurable because there would be more. The frantic desperation from earlier was gone, too, leaving them free to relish. Savor.
And Ian took even more time with her pleasure, drawing out each sensation. Reveling in the ease between them.
Juliana dug her fingers into Ian’s shoulders as his fingers slipped between her legs, but again, he made no move to rush things. She’d cried out his name twice over before he positioned himself at her very core.
“Juliana, there is no going back for you after this.”
But she lifted her hips, eager for him. “I never want to go back. Just forward. With you by my side.”
He pressed forward, she gasped at the sensation. Part pain. Part completion.
Ian was poised above her, waiting for her to adjust, protecting her as he always did. She cupped his cheek, tracing her finger across his scar, his slightly crooked nose, his firm lips.
“I will always be there.” He moved slowly; this time the pleasure outweighed the discomfort.
So she shifted her hips, bringing him deeper. Closer. “More,” she whispered.
And he gave it to her, rocking and moving within her until she writhed, until she begged him a thousand times. Until she promised him everything she possessed. Her kingdom. Her crown.
Her heart.
Only then did he lose control, flying with her over the edge as they clutched each other, bliss consuming their bodies, binding them together.
Chapter Thirty-six
Ian knew he should be sleeping like Juliana, but he just couldn’t give up one moment with her to oblivion. Instead, he held her tightly nestled against him. Counting each of her breaths. Memorizing the tilt of her nose.
But they would need to make plans if they were going to stop Sommet. He let her sleep as long as possible before gently kissing her awake.
She scowled at him with bleary eyes. “What?”
“We need plans.”
She snuggled back tighter against him and pulled the blanket closer around the two of them. “No, we don’t. I already solved the problem.”
He knew better than to antagonize her when she first awoke. So he humored her. “How did you do that?”
“Sommet was mining on my land and selling the ore to the French. I sent word to Prinny. I finally have something I can use to discredit him in everyone’s eyes.”
Perhaps he should have asked her about her day before seducing her.
“What precisely did you discover?”
She recounted all her discoveries about Sommet and her aunt.
“So you wrote the regent a letter.” She was brilliant.
She nodded. “I sent it with my groom. It should reach the prince this morning. It explains the duke’s lies and his current plans. Anything Sommet tries to claim now about my brother, I can say are a desperate attempt to save his own skin.”
“You are brilliant.” He kissed her lips as he’d hesitated to do for the past few hours for fear of waking her. “Someone should assign you to run a country or something.”
She nipped his lip before snuggling against him and falling back asleep.
All his plotting and she’d managed to solve the problem all on her own.
He wanted to crow with pride, but at the same time his heart suddenly felt like lead in his chest.
He was now worthless to her. Last night he’d been essential. Now what was he? A former—well, occasionally current—criminal?
He carefully slid from the bed. Juliana made a sleepy grab for his arm, but settled for hugging a pillow when she couldn’t find him.
No. He wasn’t useless. He could still get her brother’s letters back. It would be better if those papers no longer existed.
Feeling slightly better, he donned his breeches. Canterbury had loaned him one of his shirts last night. But Ian barely fit in it. The man was a rail. So he rang for Apple.
He held up a hand to hush her as she came through the door and gave her whispered orders to fetch him another set of clothes from the servants’ quarters.
He returned to Abington’s jacket and pulled out the file he’d liberated from Sommet’s office.
He flipped through the first few pages.
They were mining records.
Iron mines. The mines appeared to have been dug ten years ago. They must be details on the Lenorian mines.
No wonder Sommet was desperate to land Gregory on the throne. The things were worth a bloody fortune.
Although if he was reading these correctly, mining didn’t stop at the end of the war as Juliana had just told him. At the bottom, scribbled in a hasty hand, were entries up to a month ago.
The past two years were the most profitable ones in the ledger.
He was tempted to let Juliana sleep and figure this out on his own, but she’d proved herself quite clever at solving problems.
“Juliana.”
She rolled over in the bed and pulled the pillow over her. Gracefully sleeping enchanted princess she was not. And he wouldn’t want her to be.
“The mining didn’t stop at the end of the war.”
The pillow was flung off her head. “What?”
“I have Sommet’s records from the mine.”
She climbed out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her as she stood. He was such a selfish bastard. He’d just spent a night any man would have cut off his arm to experience and already he wanted more.
What would she say if he confessed his feelings for her right now? Would she admit to the same or would she look away, embarrassed at his sentimentality? Despite everything they’d shared, they’d been rather vague on the details of how things would work afterward.
Would she accept his proposal? Or was she hoping for a more informal relationship? Something she could keep hidden?
He set his jaw and showed her the paper.
“This must be what Leucretia meant. She said he’d cheated her. I wasn’t sure what he’d done. But this must be it.” She studied the paper a bit longer, her face growing pensive. “Do you have any idea what I could have done for my people with this much money?”
“What will you do with the mines now?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I need to find out what happened to the people who lived there. If they want to return.”
“If they don’t?” Or can’t. There was a good chance they’d been killed, after all.
She sighed. “I don’t know. What would you do?”
“I am thankfully not one of your advisers.”
“You are more than that.”
“I’m lacking all your necessary qualifications.”
“Not all.” She waited a moment before speaking, her amber eyes gleaming.
She was going to say it. S
he was going to say she loved him, and if she said it, then the rest of the world, and her country, be damned. He’d have her as his wife.
So he hurried on before she specified. “I don’t have an army.” He gestured to his bare chest, loving the way her eyes roved it hungrily. “Well, I can see how you might think I am about equivalent to an entire—”
What he’d been about to say next was suddenly lost.
He was about equivalent to an army.
Oh, certainly not physically, but the Trio had wreaked as much damage on Europe as Wellington had. The only thing that stood between their marriage now was reclaiming her kingdom. What if he found a way to ensure she kept her kingdom on her own terms?
Sommet had been making deals with the French and the Spanish all along.
And anything Sommet could do, Ian could do as well.
At least with Juliana’s help.
Excitement buzzed through him. He did have something to offer her after all.
A place to belong in her life.
“An entire what?” Juliana asked, her mouth quirked.
Ian stared at her, amazed she hadn’t just felt the whole world shift. He had to struggle to remember what he was about to say. “Army,” he finished.
She grinned and straddled his lap. “You do seem to have the stamina of one.”
He pressed a kiss to where her neck joined her shoulder and tugged the sheet down to bare her breasts. She could be his.
If she chose him.
His constant fear still hadn’t completely abated. But now, for the first time, he thought he might be worth taking a risk on.
There was a rap on the door. Juliana scrambled off as Eustace walked in.
The older woman froze, her eyes sweeping back and forth between the two of them. “Juliana? What is this?”
Juliana’s cheeks heated, but she didn’t try to move further away from him. She did however pull the sheet up over herself. “I think you know.”
“Is he truly your minister of security?”
Juliana’s hand tightened on the sheet. She was tired of hiding Ian like he was something to be ashamed of. “Yes. He is also the man I love.”
That wasn’t how she’d meant to reveal that fact.
Ian’s brows drew together and his gaze flew to meet hers. He gave her a slight shake of the head.
She didn’t know if he was denying her proclamation or telling her not to say it in front of her aunt, but it was too late for both. She wouldn’t tuck him out of sight any longer.
Eustace’s mouth opened, then closed. “You’re a grown woman.” Her aunt studied her wrinkled hands with interest. “There is a matter about which you’ve never been informed.” Juliana worried at the gravity in her aunt’s tone.
“Perhaps it would be better to discuss this alone,” her aunt continued.
“No. Ian is involved. He can hear whatever it is you say.”
After another penetrating glance, Eustace seemed to accept that. “I debated telling you. But Canterbury pointed out the foolishness of hiding the truth.”
Canterbury? No wonder her aunt had let the topic of consorting with Ian drop.
“Especially now that I know Leucretia is involved in all of this somehow.”
Juliana waited as Eustace steeled herself. Juliana was glad she hadn’t moved too far from Ian. While she wasn’t touching him, she liked knowing he’d be close enough to catch her if she collapsed from whatever Eustace was about to reveal.
“You know Leucretia was your grandfather’s twin.”
“Yes.” This wasn’t where she’d expected this conversation to go.
“There were—are rumors surrounding the births.”
Juliana still had no idea what Eustace intended to reveal.
“Although I suppose at this point it doesn’t matter what the truth is. It only matters what she thinks.” Eustace shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t intend to turn into a blathering biddy.” She exhaled. “Before she died, our nurse told Leucretia that she was actually the firstborn twin. That my father had decided a king would be stronger for Lenoria than a queen.”
Juliana reached out and grabbed Ian’s shoulder, grateful for his solid, silent support as she tried to digest this. “Leucretia should have inherited the crown? How old was she when you found out?”
Eustace frowned. “In her twenties. It was several years after your grandfather inherited the crown. It was too late to do anything. She had no proof. Our mother denied it. So she had no grounds to contend with her brother.”
“And a king is always seen as stronger than a queen.” Hence the laws Juliana was struggling with now.
“Exactly. I think much of Leucretia’s wildness stemmed from that anger. She’s always felt as if she’s been robbed.” Eustace shrugged, her lips tight. “Perhaps she has been.”
“But she is loyal to Lenoria, isn’t she?” Or had she been resenting Juliana her entire life? What about Sommet’s plan to kill Juliana’s father? Had Leucretia known about that? Helped plan it?
Eustace hesitated. Hesitated long enough that Juliana had her answer. “I don’t know. I think so. I watched her train you and thought she had finally come to terms with it all. That perhaps she even saw you as her chance to have influence on the throne. But if she has paired with Sommet for some scheme, that might be her motivation.”
There was another knock at the door and Apple hurried inside. Her face was pale. She glanced at Eustace but then decided to speak anyway. “Your messenger, Your Highness. The one you sent out yesterday. He was found dead a few miles from here.”
“What? How?” She knew it was naive to hope it had been an accident, but she couldn’t help it.
“He was shot.”
Ian stood, his body tense. “Who knew he carried a message to the regent?”
Juliana stared at him, then at her aunt. “Only Leucretia.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Juliana couldn’t feel the tips of her fingers. It was as if parts of her had simply gone numb from the chaos in her mind. “Perhaps I’m not fit to rule a country. I betrayed my one chance out of this disaster to the very person who caused it.”
Ian pulled her to him without even a second glance at Eustace. “She’s your aunt. It’s not your fault for trusting her.”
“Isn’t it, though? I knew she’d conspired with Sommet. I knew she’d lied to me once before. And yet when she said she would do what she could for Lenoria, I believed her.” Juliana clutched her sheet more tightly around her, the hard wall of his chest secure and stable under her fingers. The weight she thought she’d freed herself from yesterday came crashing down onto her shoulders, making her lungs fight for air. “I asked her to help me word the letter.” But Juliana didn’t have time to waste on self-recrimination. If the groom had been killed, that meant the documents still needed to be retrieved.
Today.
Before the ball.
She straightened, determined not to let Ian or her aunt know of the darkness encroaching at the edges of her thoughts. The desperation. She had to be strong. “Apple, bring me my clothing. The blue silk. I have business to attend to.”
Apple bowed and hurried into the dressing room.
“We will wait in the corridor for you to dress,” Eustace said.
“I’ll remain here,” Ian said, holding her more tightly. He ignored her aunt’s glare. “Sorry, I’m a wanted criminal. I can’t be seen in the corridor.”
Eustace didn’t leave until she met Juliana’s eye, but then with a twitch of her brow, she left.
Juliana sat heavily in the chair Ian offered her. She’d thought she had all of this under control.
But it never had been.
She closed her eyes tightly, until dots swam behind her eyes. She needed to keep Ian safe. Her country. Her brother.
“You should leave,” she told Ian. She regretted nothing about last night, but in the light of day it was impossible for her to ignore just how much danger he was in. Now not only from Sommet but from the la
w, which the duke undoubtedly controlled as well.
“I’m not clothed, as you many have noticed.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He shrugged with his damaged arm. “Too late.”
Only Ian could have said that in a way to make her feel slightly better. “I have to deal with Sommet on my own.”
“Why?”
She stared at him. Why? “Because it’s my responsibility.”
“Why? What does facing him alone prove?”
“I can’t be seen as weak.” She had struggled her entire life to be seen as a strong leader. She’d had both her gender and her age against her.
“So you’ll ignore help that might make you stronger?”
Was that what she was doing?
She asked for help when she needed it. She’d asked for his help, hadn’t she? And unfortunately, Leucretia’s. “You’re the one who always tries to do things on your own.”
Ian’s smile was rueful. “We are a lovely, misguided pair.”
“But what does it say about me if I can’t handle this alone?” That she had been a failure all along.
His face grew serious. “I have come to the rather lowering conclusion that Sommet may be smarter than I am.” He rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers. “But he isn’t smarter than the two of us together. He’s alone. That is his great weakness.”
She stood and began to pace. “It’s not that simple. What if I can’t handle this?”
“Then you are normal. You try again.”
“But I am not normal, I am a princess.” Her voice didn’t break so much on that last word as it shattered. Loud, awkward, anguished. “I have to be perfect. It is my duty.”
Ian caught her sheet and reeled her to him. “You don’t have to be perfect. Just look at the prince regent. The man’s a buffoon and somehow he manages to rule the most powerful nation in the world.”
Juliana choked on her anguish, but at some point halfway through it evolved into a laugh. “The regent?” She had never even considered it.
“You’d never thought of that before, had you?”
“No.” He was right. And this was why she couldn’t do without him.
Ian stepped back, turning to the clothing that Apple had brought. He pulled the shirt over his head. “A queen is valued for more than the burdens she bears. She also needs wisdom. Kindness. Dedication. You have all that.” He tossed his waistcoat down and spun back to her. He knelt by the edge of her chair.