by C. J. Miller
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.
Chapter 4
“Do you want her taken care of?” Amon asked.
Demetrius had his phone in a death grip, anxious to answer that question with a yes. But he had come too far to be reckless now. Killing Stella would solve one problem and introduce too many others.
“What are the chances she will succeed?” Demetrius asked.
“High. She has powerful allies in her corner,” Amon said.
Stella had been trying to file a new will to replace the king’s most recent one. It wasn’t an easy task, but Stella had been greasing palms and clearing the way. She wanted control, land and power, and she didn’t want to share it with the king’s children.
If Stella had her way and inherited everything, his plan was ruined.
Demetrius needed Iliana to have influence in Valencia. She would be the key to freeing his brother, Alexei.
If Iliana would not help him, he would have no choice but to go to war with Valencia. Declaring war for the sake of saving one man was selfish and shortsighted, but Demetrius was out of options. Perhaps a covert op would do the job, but other ops had failed. One had nearly killed Alexei.
Iliana entered the living room where he had been standing at the window, looking out while he spoke to Amon. Demetrius was swept away by her beauty and grace. He ended his call. “Is everything okay?”
Iliana shook her head. She strode to the coffee table and picked up the remote control. She turned on the television.
The local news was reporting on their marriage and speculating about the reasons they were in Valencia.
It didn’t matter what was being said in the media. When it came to light that she was the king’s daughter, conjecture wouldn’t change the facts.
“What do you want to do about this?” Iliana asked, pointing at the screen.
Demetrius didn’t respond to rumors. He would make a statement when the time was right. But this was an opportunity to get back in her good graces. “What would you like me to do about this?”
She folded her arms. “I feel trapped.”
Demetrius didn’t like hearing her describe their relationship in that manner. But he would not give up. He would turn her around. “I assure you—you are not trapped. You have more power in this situation than you may believe.” Iliana had an iron spirit. She was strong, and he wanted to see her flourish. His wife should be powerful in her own right. It reflected well on him to have a capable woman at his side. He needed her by his side if he wanted to see Alexei again.
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Was this part of your plan? To let the world know that we’re married?”
Her deep distrust of him was disconcerting. “No.” He had known it would happen, but he’d done nothing to hasten it.
Iliana looked at some blank spot on the wall over his head. “Serena thinks I should stay with you.”
That surprised him. “Serena is a wise queen.”
Iliana laughed. The noise sounded great to his ears, even if he didn’t understand the cause. “Did I say something funny?”
She turned off the television. “A few months ago, you were ready to war with Acacia and Rizari. Now the queen of Acacia is wise.”
“My issues weren’t with Acacia. You know that. I do what I have to for my country.” And for Alexei.
Iliana cr
ossed the room and stood a few inches from him. “When I’m near you, I feel as if I can’t breathe.”
He couldn’t tell if she meant that as a compliment or a complaint. He watched her face, watched her gaze move from his eyes to his mouth and down his body. She was fighting their attraction, and he wanted her to lose the fight. “Tell me why you feel that way.”
“You’re hiding something from me. You have an agenda. It scares me that I don’t know what it is or what it will mean for me. That makes you impossible to trust.”
He had a political agenda, but he also had a few things on his personal agenda, like wooing her into his bed again. He was trustworthy, but proving that to her would take time. “My political aspirations will not harm you.”
“How can you know that?”
“What I need is not in conflict with what you need,” he said.
“What is it that you think I need?”
That was a loaded question. “I think you need me, your husband, to make you pregnant and give you the big family you always wanted. I think you need me to take you to bed and worship you. I think you need me inside you.”
Her eyes were wide, and her mouth fell open. “No, you’re off the mark.”
“I will respect your boundaries. But you asked me what you need. A passionate and caring woman like you makes a good lover and a good mother.”
Iliana huffed. “What you need to do is keep your distance.”
“We have an agreement.”
“I said I would behave as your wife. That doesn’t mean I’m happy with you or willing to jump into bed with you at every moment.”
Was she trying to provoke him? He wouldn’t take the bait. “As you wish, wife.”
She narrowed her eyes at him again.
“I have a few things I need to do before bed.” She pointed to his computer on the desk. “May I use that?”
“Yes, of course.” Iliana circled around him to access the computer.
“I’ll wait for you to return to my bed.”
“You may be waiting a long time.”
As long as he had waited for Iliana and his plan to come to pass, a few more hours were nothing.
* * *
Iliana opened Demetrius’s computer. Though an internet search couldn’t tell her much about her biological mother, she could look for answers to questions about the king of Valencia, his wives and children.
The stories about Nicholas Floros’s death dominated the news. Depending on the site, the report ranged from brief, stating the cause of death was “under investigation,” to outright printing it had been murder.
Murder. Her world had turned crazy in the space of a few days.
“Come to bed.”
Demetrius. He was standing in front of the desk in a white T-shirt and sweatpants. His hair was wet from a shower, and the roped muscles of his upper body drew her attention. His biceps stretched the material around his arms, and his broad shoulders outlined his impressive frame. Her attraction to him was back in spades.
None of this was fair. Iliana wanted to enjoy her new husband. They should be in the happy, carefree period of their relationship, locked in each other’s arms, not locked in a struggle over the whys behind their marriage vows.
He looked good to her. He had from the first time they’d met eight months ago when the possibility of him being interested in her seemed slim. He had come to the castle to meet with the queen, and that first moment had been kismet, an instant connection. Knowing his reputation and who he was hadn’t stopped her from feeling excited and giddy by the encounter—or recognizing that he was absolutely gorgeous.
Most of their interactions over the first weeks of their relationship had been via the phone. But despite his status as president and her lowly status as Serena’s personal secretary, Demetrius had taken her calls directly. He had not rushed her off the phone. He had replied to her text messages and emails. He had made her a priority and had made her feel special. It had taken time for her to believe that their relationship was more than professional courtesy. He was interested in her as a woman, and that had felt amazing.
When her parents died, she’d lost the people closest to her, her family, the people she could call at two in the morning when she needed to talk. Demetrius’s attention had been flattering and had healed her. He had wanted her as his wife, and now he wanted her in his bed. He was the person she wanted to call when she needed help. She didn’t need a man to ride to her rescue, but she needed someone to listen to her and care about her.
She was tempted, but she held fast. She had reasons to keep her distance. She had made bad choices, and, given the emotional upset of the day, she was likely to make more poor choices if she let her heart rule. “Go to bed. I have a few more things I want to look up.” She was grateful he hadn’t questioned her about what she was doing. He could likely guess, but even so, she didn’t want to open those wounds again. As she considered shutting down the computer and getting some sleep, her stomach fluttered at the thought of joining him in bed.
If she waited, he would fall asleep. Then she could creep into the bed next to him without causing an awkward, tense situation. Better yet, she could crash on the couch and make up an excuse later.
“I won’t sleep until you do.”
Demetrius was stubborn. He wouldn’t back down. Well, two could play at that game.
Ignoring his comment and avoiding eye contact, Iliana stood from the computer and headed to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas, pondering her next move. She was small enough to sleep comfortably on the couch. That was a safer place than Demetrius’s bed.
Hoping she was tiptoeing silently, she walked into the living area. She grabbed a few pillows and a blanket and lay down.
Demetrius appeared at the end of the couch. “You sleep beside me. That was our agreement.”
“You are welcome to sleep next to me.” She pointed to the floor next to her.
He tossed a pillow on the floor and lay down.
The president of Icarus was sleeping on the floor when a perfectly good mattress was a few feet away.
“Why don’t you sleep in the bed? Sex isn’t happening in any case, so you might as well be comfortable,” she said.
“This isn’t about sex. This is about keeping you close where I can keep an eye on you.”
He was serious about protecting her. “Your guards are outside the door.”
“I don’t care where my guards are. There is no one more interested in your safety than me. That means you stay where I can see you. Furthermore, I do not care for the idea of my guards seeing you in your pajamas. You will sleep where I sleep.”
He had made valid points about security. Feeling like a jerk, she stood and stepped over him. As long as he didn’t try anything, she would keep to her half of the mattress. “Fine. You win. We’ll sleep in the bed.”
He had the decency not to look victorious when he climbed into bed beside her.
For good measure, she wedged a spare pillow between them. “Stay on your side.”
He laughed, a deep rumbling noise that shook the mattress. “I am the master of self-control.”
She said nothing to that.
As she tried to calm her thoughts enough to sleep, it annoyed her that Demetrius fell asleep instantly. Shouldn’t he remain awake, worrying about the future and the problems they faced? She moved the separation pillow and poked him.
He didn’t stir.
She nudged him again, this time harder. “Demetrius.”
No response. Shouldn’t his military training mean he woke and became alert quickly? She prodded him again.
This time, he grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him, trapping her legs with his and holding her hips against him. “What do you need, wife? Is this what you want? My
attention?”
She wiggled against him, but he did not free her. The movement of their bodies against each other was only turning her on more. “I wanted to know if you were sleeping.”
He shifted, aligning their bodies, and she used every ounce of control not to rub against him.
His hand clamped around her rear end. “I was trying to sleep. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m worried.”
“There’s nothing you can do now. Sleep so you can be sharp tomorrow.”
Easy for him to say.
“The night before a battle, I refused to let my troops stay awake drinking and whoring because that created tired soldiers. Tired soldiers are dead soldiers.”
He wasn’t letting her move. She wanted to move. “I’m not a soldier.”
“The principle applies.”
She pushed his arms away, and he let them drop to the side.
Still on top of him, she ran her finger over his shadow beard.
“Are you trying to start something?” he asked.
His erection was pressing between her legs. How could she want him this much? She swiveled her hips in response. Bracing her hands on his rock-hard belly, she lifted and lowered her body over his.
“Iliana, if you are playing a game, stop.” There was a clear warning in his voice. He wanted her, and he was trying to respect her limits.
Was this a game? It felt very real. He had lied to her. That hurt and anger was not far from her mind, but it was becoming more distant. She had lost control and was bent on touching him now. “I want you to lie still and let me do the work.”
He watched her, his midnight eyes vivid with interest. She peeled her pajama top over her head and flung it on the ground. Then she massaged her breasts while he watched.
She had his full attention, and she was putting on a show. She became hotter, wetter just thinking about it. He grew harder and bigger between her legs. She moaned and let her body and desires guide her. She ground against him, wanting release and being unable to reach it. “I can’t get there alone.”
He held her hips and shifted her, moving his hand between her legs but still refusing to do what she needed. “Tell me you want this. I won’t help you unless you say the words.”