Claiming the Royal Innocent (Kingdoms & Crowns)

by Jennifer Hayward

  She sucked in a breath, heat bleeding into her skin as if he’d physically touched her. It shook her in her shoes, vibrating every inch of her skin, as if for a moment, he’d forgotten to marshal his defenses, that impressive control of his, and all she could see was the truth. The hunger.

  He didn’t want to want her, but he did.

  He moved his gaze back to her face. Tension thickened the air between them. Held her frozen. Then rationality, in precious little quantity of late, thankfully kicked in. She wasn’t letting Mr. Hot-and-Cold take her on an emotional roller-coaster ride tonight. Not when so much was riding on the success of this party, for her and for him.

  Turning her back on his stare, she made her way into the crowd.

  * * *

  Aristos absorbed the princess’s turned back with a blink and then another, noting, of course, her amazing behind in the formfitting black dress, because she had the best one he’d ever seen.

  Was that just a kiss-off look? He thought it might have been... He’d never actually had one to compare it to.

  It stirred an animalistic desire to wipe it off her face even though he knew exactly why she’d directed it at him. That he deserved it. This time he had been running for the hills. Sharing your life story with a woman you were clearly developing feelings for did that to a man. Well, that, and he’d been completely focused on the game, on clearing the decks so he could devote his attention to his investors tonight.

  It ate away at him, that look. Festered as he found himself watching Alex rather than Nina’s performance, as spectacular as it was, wondering what he was doing with her. He’d walked away from her the other night because Nik had told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t to be his—that hadn’t changed. Yet every time he came within a foot of her, those good intentions flew out the window, clouded by a complex set of emotions and lust he couldn’t seem to make head nor tail of.

  The lust he could handle, decipher. The other feelings Alex aroused in him, not so much. That he had cared for her from the start was clear if you shone a light on his behavior. What he felt for her now was more complex. She was getting under his skin, making him feel things, question things, want things he couldn’t have. He couldn’t turn her off like a switch as he did with his other women.

  That was the heart of the issue. The source of his problem. But he thought maybe he could have handled it better.

  He pulled her aside after the performance as the guests mingled. Alex gave him another of those cool looks.

  “Everything okay?” he asked deliberately.

  “Kala.” She lifted her chin. “Everything’s going perfectly. Don’t you think it’s perfect?”

  “Perfect,” he agreed. “I came over to say thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” The words rolled off her tongue in swift, robotic fashion, stirring the antagonism roiling his insides. “Galina would like to watch the game,” she said. “Can I watch it with her?”

  “Women are distracting.”

  “Then why do you have the two beautiful waitresses? I saw them earlier.”

  “Because they’re meant to distract, entertain the men. You are not.”

  Her mouth firmed. “I will stay in the background. Firmly in the background. Let me come.”

  His better judgment told him no, but this was Alex and her big blue eyes he was up against—an unfair battle.

  “In the background,” he underscored. “You blend in with the paint.”

  * * *

  The high rollers’ room glittered with opulence: Brazilian-wood floors shone underfoot, the marble showpiece of a bar was lined with hundreds of colorfully hued bottles and the arched, elegant glass doors that lined the wall to the terrace were magnificent, cut crystal shimmering in the muted lighting.

  The air was tense, thick, the players bent in concentration over their cards. Aristos, Dimitri, the sultan she’d met earlier, a senator from New York and six other men sat around the table in the center of the room. Whiskey glasses littered the surface of the table, ties lay discarded on the backs of chairs and the aroma of cigars lingered alongside the overpowering scent of competition.

  One of the beautiful blonde waitresses clad in a black dress far sexier than Alex’s ushered her and Galina around the edge of the room to the bar.

  “Is it always this quiet?” Alex whispered, sliding onto a stool.

  “No. Tense game.”

  “Who’s winning?”

  “Kako, then the sultan, then Aristos.”

  Kako, the pro who had won last year... “How much is on the table?”

  “Eight million.”

  Thee mou. She almost swallowed her tongue.

  Ensuring Galina had a drink in her hand, she procured a glass of champagne from the bartender. Off duty now and able to relax, a victorious rush moved through her. Nina’s performance had gone perfectly, Galina was ecstatic and Aristos had spent much of the party with the Smirnovs.

  For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel helpless. Didn’t feel carried along by forces far greater than herself. She had proven she could execute a charity event for VIPs and make it a success. It gave her the confidence that when she resumed her real life as a princess and her upcoming work with Nina, she could do good things in the world, that she could own the role.

  It sank into her bones, that heady feeling, as she watched the game. Aristos, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded, muscular forearms exposed, took the round, pulling the pile of chips toward the stacks he had in front of him. Triumph glittered in his ebony eyes as he leaned back and drained his scotch.

  The dealer set out the next hand. The senator stretched while he did, noticing her and Galina sitting at the bar and smiling a greeting. She returned the smile, keeping it brief. Blending with the paint, that’s what she was doing.

  But the sultan, who already had two wives although he’d been flirting outrageously with Alex at the party, noticed her, too. His overt stare caused a ripple effect around the table as the rest of the men turned to look.

  Aristos narrowed his gaze on her. Turning on her stool, she devoted her attention to her glass of champagne and Galina.

  The next round began. The sultan took it, Kako the one after that, then Aristos in a nail-biting hand that stretched the tension in the room to a breaking point.

  The sultan looked most displeased. Kako gave a shake of his head, requested a break and headed out of the room. The tension broke then, the table dissolving into good-natured ribbing, one of the professional players flirting heavily with the blond-haired waitress as she served him a drink. The sultan remained silent, pouty, if a man could be described as that, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

  “Maybe,” he announced, setting his gaze on Alex, “we should up the ante for the next round.”

  Galina sucked in a breath. Alex sat up straight. Aristos followed the sultan’s gaze to her, eyes narrowing. “What are you proposing?”

  “Her,” said the sultan, nodding at Alex. “Winner of the next round.”

  Her stomach fell to the floor. A silence filled the room. Aristos sat back in his chair, the expression on his face unchanged. “We don’t play by those rules here. You know that.”

  They did somewhere else?

  “Maybe we need to shake things up a bit.”

  “Not happening,” Aristos drawled.

  “Why?” The sultan gave him a belligerent look. “Is she yours?”

  One of the pro players made a choked sound. The senator’s eyes went round. The icy expression that passed across Aristos’s face sent a chill down her spine. “Yes, as a matter of fact,” he drawled, “she is.”

  The sultan held up his hands, a rueful twist to his lips. “Fair enough. You have to admit, Nicolades, you weren’t making it very obvious.”

  Because she wasn’t his. Because this was insane.

  Aristos pushed his chair back, stood and walked over to where she sat at the bar. His spicy cologne infiltrated her senses as he barked
a request to the bartender for a scotch, his eyes never leaving hers. He waited until the drink was poured, wrapped his fingers around the tumbler, clamped a hand around her upper arm and pulled her off the stool.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Too intimidated to protest, she allowed him to guide her out onto the terrace while the whole table watched.

  She waited until they were out of sight and earshot of the others before she pulled her arm out of his grip. “Enough of your caveman tactics, thank you.”

  He leaned against the railing and knocked back a gulp of scotch. Fixed his gaze on her. “I told you this was a bad idea. These men are a different breed, Alex.”

  As was he. It thrilled and intimidated her all at the same time.

  “Did he mean it?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “Did you?”

  His eyes flashed. “Alex,” he growled. “There are millions of dollars on that table. We are not doing this now.”

  “I know,” she said, moving closer to him. “But I’d like to know the answer to the question.”

  “You can’t be mine,” he rasped, his gaze tracking her. “You want my list again? You are off-limits. I don’t do relationships. My affairs are short-lived, transactional entities where everyone knows the score.”

  “What if I did, want that, I mean? To explore what’s between us.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You are a princess. Third in line to the throne in case you’d forgotten...whom I’m supposed to be protecting.”

  “There’s no threat here,” she derided. “The only thing you’re protecting me from is you.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her pulse gave a tremendous flutter, then took off at a full gallop. “And if I weren’t...off-limits to you?”

  “There’s no point in discussing it, because you are.”

  She fixed her gaze on his. “I saw your face tonight. That night on the beach...”

  “Christos, Alex.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You’ve just walked right out of Alice in Wonderland. I am not the man for you. I don’t do flowers and chocolate.”

  “I’m not asking for that...for a relationship. I want to explore what’s between us. What that kind of passion feels like. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” He stared at her. Set his glass down on the railing with a deliberate movement. “Are you trying to wreck my head?”

  She shook hers. “I’m merely suggesting, as you yourself said, that we do what we both want.”

  “No.”

  She eyed him, frustration coursing through her. “You know what I think? I think you’re all talk, Aristos. I think you throw these challenges at me, these scenarios of what it would be like between us, because you know I won’t act on them. It’s safe. And when I do, you run.” She lifted her chin. “I think you’re scared. I think you have no idea what will happen between us if we actually face up to this attraction.”

  “Oh, I know,” he rasped, eyes flashing. “We would be incendiary together, angel. We would blow the doors off my bedroom, and this would turn into an even bigger mess than it already is.”

  “Or it would solve our problem... We could address it and put it behind us. No one would have to know.”

  A long moment passed. “Just so we’re clear,” he ventured in a silky voice, “you’re suggesting we have an affair? Confined to this island?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “You said I was bored with Sebastien and you were right. You told me to define my life, to go after what I want. Here I am, going after what I want.”

  He uttered one of the filthiest curse words in the Greek language. She winced, absorbing his fury. Taking her by the hand, he marched her back into the room, issued an “all non-players out” command directed at Galina, then propelled her out of the room past a sea of amused faces, a palm at her back.

  Across the beach they went, up the stairs to the Great House and down the hall to her room. Her heart was pounding like a freight train by the time he opened her door and pushed her inside.

  “You,” he said, “will stay here. You will not come anywhere near the game. I will deal with you when it’s done.” He pinned his gaze on her face. “Understood?”

  “Yes.” She tucked a stray chunk of hair behind her ear. “But you could tell me—”

  Thud. The door slammed behind him.

  * * *

  Aristos stopped drinking after that. It had only been his second scotch; he’d been pacing himself, as had all the men, except the sultan, of course, who didn’t drink. But any amount of alcohol in his brain after what Alex had just done to him was too much.

  He set his second-to-last hand down, a good one. Sat back in his chair as Kako grimaced.

  No one would have to know. It would just be between the two of them... Theos. A synapse in his brain snapped. You told me to define my life, to go after what I want. Here I am, going after what I want.

  He wiped a hand across his brow. He had created this monster. This was his mess to deal with. The question was, what was he going to do about it?

  He allocated half his attention to the sultan’s hand, the rest of it sitting firmly back in that room at the Great House with the woman he now conceded he wanted more than he’d ever wanted one in his life. The same one who had just offered herself up to him for a no-holds-barred, private affair.

  She was right, he acknowledged as the sultan set down a full house, a better hand than his. What he’d been offering were excuses, excuses that had been protecting him from her. From the lust he felt for her. From whatever else he felt for her that he refused to examine. Except for the king and his casino contract, of course. That was a very real deterrent to taking what she was offering.

  But if he and the princess kept this between them, no one would have to know.

  Kako set down a brilliant hand. Aristos scowled and took a sip of water. Examined the last point to be considered. He was afraid he would hurt Alex. Afraid he had no idea how to play this game when his feelings were involved. When it wasn’t just sex. He knew he couldn’t give her what she needed in the long run, but she’d said she wasn’t looking for a relationship.

  Could she handle an affair, however, that ended when his interest waned? Which it would once he’d solved her mysteries. It was always that way with him: the allure of a woman fading when she was no longer an enigma to him. The thrill of the chase in its most classic format.

  If he agreed to what Alex was proposing, she had to be clear on the rules. The boundaries. Truthfully, he was starting to think a controlled experiment, like allowing a fire to burn under carefully monitored circumstances, was the only way forward for them. To burn this attraction out completely.

  She was affecting his head. Impeding his ability to focus at the most critical time in his career. He couldn’t have it.

  An image of himself on his knees, his hands on Alex’s delectable body, tightened his fingers around the tumbler. Those sexy moans she made when she couldn’t help herself...

  An impatient sigh broke through his fantasy. “I know she’s hot,” said Kako. “Hell, I’d be long gone by now, but could you please,” he said, waving his hand at him, “take a card or pass so we can find a winner?”

  Ignoring the pro’s gibe, Aristos lifted his hand and requested two more cards. It wasn’t enough.

  The final result: Kako first, Aristos second, the sultan third.

  He offered Kako his congratulations, his own mood rather surly now as he watched his millions piled in front of the pro. He intended to exact retribution for the result, in only the most pleasurable way, of course.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALEX STOOD, FOREARMS resting on the terrace railing, contemplating the floodlit beach as the clock ticked past 2:00 a.m. The lap of the waves against the shore and the persistent song of the cicadas were the only sounds that filled the air, not enough to drown out the pounding in her ears.

  She’d seen some of t
he players disperse along the beach toward their private villas, which meant Aristos would be done soon. Adrenaline coursed through her, tightening her skin, quickening her heart. Had Aristos meant tonight when the game was over they would settle this between them? Or perhaps when all the players had gone home? Since that wouldn’t be until tomorrow afternoon, she thought it might actually kill her. She’d stayed dressed just in case.

  A knock on her door ten minutes later had her jumping out of her skin. Waiting for it, anticipating it, she froze, all of a sudden utterly unsure of what she was doing.

  It came again. Pulling herself out of her suspended state, she walked inside, crossed to the door and released the bolt. Aristos, tie slung over his shoulder, a bottle of champagne in his hand, stood leaning against the wall.

  Apparently the intensity he’d been wearing hadn’t ended with the game. The look he sliced over her was pure predator. It held her feet rooted to the ground, eyes fixed on his.

  “You going to let me in, Princess?” His low drawl raked over her sensitized skin. “A discreet affair might not entail me standing in the hallway with a bottle of champagne in my hand.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Is that what they were having?

  She stepped back before it appeared she’d lost all her brain cells. Aristos straightened away from the doorway and moved inside, leaving behind a waft of that delicious spicy scent he wore.

  She closed the door.

  “Lock it.” His evenly delivered command told her exactly how this was going to go. Made her stomach cave to the floor. She twisted the bolt shut with hands that weren’t quite steady. Turned around to find him uncorking the bottle.

  “Who won?”

  “Kako.”

  “Oh.” She pushed a chunk of hair out of her face. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “You should be.” A pop as he worked the cork free made her jump. “I was in it up until those last couple of hands. You destroyed my concentration.”

  She searched his face for some sign he was joking, but there was none. Just that same intensity, clawing its way across her nerves.

  “I really am sorry. I had no idea the sultan would be so...outrageous.”