Claiming the Royal Innocent (Kingdoms & Crowns)

by Jennifer Hayward

  Her eyes slid to her empty glass. “It’s only my second.”

  “In rapid succession.” He swept his dark gaze over her in a perusal that scorched her skin. “To provide courage perhaps?”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulders. “Why would I need courage?”

  His eyes glittered with amusement. “You tell me. You are here alone. Perhaps that makes you feel uncomfortable?”

  Very. She lifted a shoulder in what she hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “I have business to attend to. It’s not so much a social occasion for me.”

  “Business at a birthday party? How distasteful.”

  “A personal matter.”

  He inclined his head. “Perhaps you could combine your personal matter with a little...pleasure. I find myself at loose ends.”

  She suspected this man hadn’t spent one second of his life at loose ends, but his sexy drawl had the intended effect, tangling her up inside.

  “You look quite comfortable at loose ends.”

  “I prefer to find a...diversion. And you,” he said, holding her gaze, “are the most beautiful woman in the room.”

  Her stomach flip-flopped, a wave of betraying heat rising from her chest to fill her cheeks. “Hardly true. The princess is hosting, after all.”

  “She has a layer of ice that surrounds her. You do not.”

  Alex swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat, finding herself unable to pull her gaze away from his smoky, sexy one. “I’m afraid I’m not available as a diversion.”

  “Because you are here for someone else?”

  “Because I really must see who I need to see, then go.”

  “One dance.” He held out a lean-fingered, bronzed hand. “Then you can get on with your business.”

  He made it seem rude, impolite to refuse. Over his shoulder, she could see the king and queen still immersed in conversation. Perhaps it would be better to say yes to a dance rather than stand around at loose ends looking painfully out of place as she clearly had been.

  “All right,” she said, placing her palm in his much larger one. “I would love to.”

  He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Aristos,” he drawled. “And you are...?”

  Her brain froze, her clear thinking not aided by the two glasses of champagne she’d consumed. “Kara,” she said after a pause. Better to continue the facade.

  Not that it was easy to keep anything straight in her head with the energy that pulsed between them, moving from his fingers through her body until she was buzzing with the intensity of it.

  His tall, impressive physique parted the crowds easily as he led her toward the dance floor, where a live band was playing a slow, sexy jazz number.

  Aristos laced his fingers through hers, slid his arm around her waist and pulled her into a close hold that had her pulse racing. His smooth, skillful steps as he directed her around the packed space surprised her for such a solidly built male.

  “So,” he said, leveling his gaze on her face, “how do you know the princess?”

  Her stomach seized. A natural question, she told herself. Relax.

  “We’re friends,” she said, repeating what Kara had told her. “We’re on a few of the same charitable boards.”

  He inclined his head. “And what do you do when you aren’t tending to these...charitable endeavors?”

  She blinked. Thought furiously. But a few scattered conversations with Kara hadn’t provided that depth of information. “Mostly that,” she murmured awkwardly. “My father has a large philanthropic portfolio. He needs the help.”

  “And where is home?”

  “Texas,” she said faintly, as if that would make up for her lack of a drawl.

  “Funny, you don’t sound like a Southerner.”

  Her mouth went even drier. Diavole, but this had been a bad idea. “I think I’ve lost my accent,” she prevaricated. “I travel so much I’ve become somewhat...international.”

  His mouth twisted. “I get that one hundred percent. It’s the same with me.” His hand tightened around hers as he spun her in a smooth circle. “Texas is a big state. Which part?”

  She had no idea. “Dallas,” she said, guessing.

  “The home of J.R. Ewing...”

  She smiled a tight smile. “The very same. And you?” she asked, attempting to regain control of the conversation. “How do you know Stella?”

  “I’m a business partner of the king.”

  Oh, no. Not good. Swallowing her panic, she lifted her gaze to his. “What business would that be?”

  “Hotels and casinos. A bit of this, a bit of that.”

  She thought that fit perfectly with his dark, edgy vibe. “That must be a very...interesting world.”

  His mouth quirked. “You don’t sound so sure about that.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m not a gambler. It seems to me you prey on the vulnerable. Take unsuspecting people’s money.”

  “Those who walk into a casino do so of their own volition.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, “but do they always know their limits?”

  “They should. I find there is an epidemic of late of people who have no sense of personal responsibility. We are all responsible for our own actions.”

  Yes, she agreed silently, hysteria biting at the edges of her composure. That concept was top of mind at the moment.

  “Perhaps true,” she conceded. “Although I’m not sure it’s a fair comparison. I’m an idealist. I think we all need to be looking out for the greater good.”

  “A dying breed,” he said softly, his dark gaze resting on her face. “Idealists...”

  He left it at that. She shut up before she said something she shouldn’t. She should have protested when he tugged her closer so his tall, muscular body brushed against hers, his chin resting atop her head. But when there was no talking involved, there was no danger in exposing herself.

  She couldn’t resist allowing herself to melt into all that strength, just for a moment, of course, until the dance was over. It felt hedonistically good, frankly exciting to be in his arms, and when would she ever have another chance to meet a man like him? Stunning-looking members of the opposite sex were a precious commodity in Stygos. She’d known all of them since childhood.

  The plaintive, haunting notes of the saxophone were beautiful. The champagne had kicked in full force now, leaving in its wake a heady buzzing feeling that instilled a confidence in her she hadn’t had before. It made the dangerous attraction she felt toward the man holding her even more powerful. Made her even more aware of the strong column of his thighs as they pressed against her, driving home how powerfully built he was. How the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with the heady male musk of him was doing crazy things to her insides...

  The warmth of his hand splayed at her waist burned her skin like a brand through the thin silk of her dress. It made her wonder what it would be like to be touched by him. Truly touched by him.

  Her champagne-clouded brain was floating in a sea of pheromones when the song came to an end. She moved to extract her fingers from his, but he tightened his hold. “One more.”

  She should have ended it right there. But it was far too tempting to say yes. A glance over his shoulder revealed the king still deep in conversation. How harmful was one more dance?

  He pulled her closer, their bodies perfectly aligning as they moved to the sultry notes of the song. It was an inappropriate hold, she knew, the heat of him moving through her like the most potent of caresses, his hand drifting lower to lie against the small of her back. But her sensible side seemed to have deserted her. He was the dark, mysterious hero of her favorite novels come to life, with a dangerous, presumptive twist that was impossible to resist.

  A couple more minutes and she’d go.

  She thought maybe a third song had come and gone when she finally pulled her head from where it was nestled under his chin and realized they had gradually worked their way from the couples dancing along the edge of the ballroom to the shad
ows of the small terrace that led off it.

  She looked up into the mesmerizing heat of his black gaze, suddenly aware of exactly where this was going. “I told you I’m not interested in being a diversion,” she reminded him a little too breathlessly.

  “No?” he said derisively, bending his head toward her. “Your signals are saying the contrary.” Sliding his fingers around her jaw, he captured her lips in a kiss unlike any she’d had before. Cajoling and demanding her acquiescence all at the same time, it was sensual, playful and masterful, enticing her to respond to his seductive expertise.

  Her lips clung to his, helpless to resist his slow, intoxicating kisses. She swayed closer to him, her hand settling on his waist. He drew her into his warmth, the proximity of their bodies sending a shiver through her.

  He lifted his lips from hers, their breath mingling. “Open your mouth, angel.”

  She hadn’t been aware she was denying him anything. Obeying his command, she allowed his firm, beautiful mouth to part hers in a hot, languorous exploration she felt right down to her toes.

  Her sigh split the air. He moved his hands down to her hips and shaped her buttocks, drawing her even closer to him until their bodies were molded together without a centimeter between them. She could feel the hard heat of him burning against the juncture of her thighs, as impressive as the rest of him. It made her knees weak.

  “Aristos,” she gasped, pulling her mouth from his. “Stop.”

  Satisfaction laced his gaze as she stared up at him, the supreme control she found there snapping her out of her haze. She put a palm against his chest to put some distance between them, but the hand he held at the small of her back kept her where she was. He slid it down over her buttock to wrap around her thigh.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, pushing harder against the rock-solid wall of his chest to no avail.

  “Checking for weapons.”

  “Weapons?” Her brain struggled to compute. “Why would I be carrying weapons?”

  He ran his palm over her other buttock and down the back of her thigh in a leisurely exploration that brought a heated wave to her cheeks. “Maybe you should tell me, Kara.”

  The edge to his voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He knows. Had known all this time.

  She pushed a hand against his chest and this time he released her, setting her away from him. She bit down into her lip. Hard. “You know I’m not Kara.”

  He raked his gaze over her face. “Correct, angel. So maybe you’d care to tell me what you’re doing here. And why you impersonated Kara Nicholson to get in.”

  A buzzing sound filled her ears. “How did you know?”

  “Well, let’s see... Your accent, for starters. Second, Kara is from Houston, not Dallas. And finally, I happen to know Kara. Intimately. And you are not her.”

  Thee mou. She closed her eyes, cheeks flaming. He and Kara Nicholson were lovers. How could she have ever thought she’d get away with this?

  She opened her eyes. “You were behind me in line. Why didn’t you call me out then?”

  “I wanted to see what your intentions were.”

  “What did you think I was doing?”

  “We have a country trying to draw us into a war, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Disbelief sank through her. “You think I’m a spy? An assassin?”

  “I think when anyone enters an official royal engagement under false pretenses, it needs to be investigated.”

  “So you thought you’d appoint yourself investigator? Maul me while you’re at it? Make a game of it?”

  “I wouldn’t call it mauling. You were as into that as I was. And as for my interest in you, it’s my security team the palace is using tonight. A side business of mine, angel, along with my big, bad casinos. I wasn’t about to set you loose with the king in the room.”

  She clenched her hands at her sides, her gaze fixed on his. “You are going to regret this.”

  An amused glimmer filled his eyes. “Really? Do tell. My guess from the way you’ve been eyeing the king is that you’re an ex-lover. A jilted one, perhaps... You don’t seem—how should I put it?—off your rocker, so I’m assuming you’ve come with some misguided belief he’ll take a lover. I hate to break it to you, but he’s madly in love with his wife. It isn’t going to happen.”

  A jilted lover? She gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve seen the women who throw themselves at the king. They crash parties to meet him. They go to ridiculous lengths to get his attention. So even though you,” he said, stripping the clothes from her with a look that singed her skin, “are undoubtedly every man’s type, this was a wasted escapade.”

  Fury swelled up inside her. “I came tonight because I need to speak to the king about a personal matter. Just like I said earlier.”

  “Why do it under false pretenses?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “I’m afraid it’s mine if you don’t want me to have you handcuffed and hauled out of here right now.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  Her heart surged painfully against her chest. Pressing her hands to her face, she paced to the other side of the terrace. “I can’t tell you why. I admit my methods for getting here were unconventional, but they were necessary given the security surrounding the king. I would never have gotten an audience.”

  “That security is in place for a good reason.”

  “Yes,” she said, turning around. “It is.” She took a deep breath. Fixed him with an imploring look. “I promise you it’s imperative I speak to the king. In fact, if you would just take me to him right now, I would highly appreciate it.”

  “Not happening until you tell me who you are and what your business is.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Kala.” He spun on his heel and stalked toward the door.

  “Aristos, stop.”

  He turned around. “No one knows this,” she said. “You can’t say anything to anyone.”

  “Spit it out,” he growled.

  She lifted her chin. “My name is Aleksandra Dimitriou. The king is my half brother.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  ARISTOS’S MOUTH WENT SLACK. Nikandros’s half sister. He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

  “Can you please,” he said deliberately, “repeat that?”

  Aleksandra, if that was even her right name, rubbed a hand against her temple. “My mother, Melaina, was Queen Amara’s lady-in-waiting. She had an affair with King Gregorios during her tenure at the palace. The queen knew about her husband’s indiscretions, but when she discovered the affair with my mother, it was one step too far. She fired her. No one knew my mother was pregnant. She went home to her village and raised me by herself.”

  He blinked. “Why keep it a secret? By Akathinian law, you would have been a royal.”

  “My mother knew I would be taken away from her if anyone found out. She didn’t want that life for me. She told everyone, including me, that my father was an Akathinian businessman she’d met while she worked at the palace who was killed in a car accident before I was born. It wasn’t until the king had his heart attack that I learned the truth.”

  Thee mou. His head spun. The queen’s lady-in-waiting. The ultimate betrayal.

  It was well-known that King Gregorios had indulged in countless affairs. But a child kept secret this long? Born to the queen’s most trusted aide? If true, it was a scandal that would put all before it to shame.

  He scrutinized the woman in front of him. Was she telling the truth? Her skin was pale beneath her olive-toned complexion, the vulnerability that emanated from her a quality he didn’t think could be manufactured. Nor did he think she was a threat to anyone. She was not a practiced liar, that was clear. But he had learned long ago never to trust first impressions. Particularly when it came to a woman—the most deceptive
creature on the face of the earth. One who wanted an audience with the king.

  It hit him then, that same feeling of familiarity he’d experienced from the first moment he’d seen her. Those eyes... That particular shade of blue belonged to only one bloodline he knew. They were Constantinides blue. It was like looking at Nikandros and Stella.

  His blood ran cold. She was telling the truth.

  Aleksandra pressed her lips together. “I told you you were going to regret doing that.”

  He closed his eyes. For once in his life, he did. He and the king had just gotten their relationship on a solid footing after an adversarial start. This he didn’t need.

  “Just because you have the Constantinides eyes, as rare as they are, doesn’t mean your story is true,” he said roughly. “It will need to be verified, as I’m sure you will appreciate. You can understand my suspicions.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Your suspicions, yes, but not your tactics.”

  “Like I said, it took two to make that kiss.”

  That shut her up. He paced to the edge of the terrace, his brain working furiously. They were smack in the middle of a royal function with every paparazzo camera, gossip and royal watcher in the country in their midst. This could not get out before it was verified and the ramifications considered. But that was the king’s job—not his.

  He closed the distance between them. “What were your intentions coming here tonight? What do you want from the king?”

  “I want to see my father. Talk to him. That’s all.”

  He studied her for a long moment. Cursed under his breath and pulled his mobile phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. A phone call to the man in charge of security brought a detail in a dark suit out to the terrace.

  “This is how this is going to go,” he said to Aleksandra. “You are going to stay here with him. You do not move from here, you do not talk to anyone and if you do, he will restrain you. Understood?”

  Her eyes widened, skin paling. “Yes.”

  She looked as if a good gust of wind might blow her over. Intensely vulnerable. His heart contracted despite his effort to stay distanced from the explosive situation unfolding in front of him. It had taken an immense amount of courage for her to come here and do what she’d done. He could only imagine how terrified she felt.