Carrying the King's Pride

by Jennifer Hayward

  His gaze darkened. “And what would you like out of that real relationship now that you have it, Sofía? Let’s get all our cards on the table. Would you like to talk like we did tonight? Are you looking for love perhaps? Or does your inability to make yourself vulnerable rule that out?”

  “As much as it does for you,” she bit out. “A relationship is about respecting and appreciating each other. Knowing each other so we can support one another. And clearly you don’t know me at all right now. So we’re each going to have to learn how to drop our guards, to let each other in, to be in a relationship or this isn’t going to work.”

  His lashes lowered. “Sex is a vital part of a relationship. Sex is intimacy.”

  “It’s one level of intimacy,” she countered. “If I give in to you now, if I let you use sex as a weapon between us, as a way to avoid the issues we have, we are never going to confront them.”

  His gaze darkened. “Love is a fantasy people like to believe in. It has no place in the real world. We’d all be better off if we acknowledged that and viewed relationships as the mutually beneficial transactions they are.”

  “Transactions?” She lifted a brow. “I am certainly no expert here, given my poor track record, but my parents were in love, Nik. It was my mother’s love for my father that sent her into the spiral she went into. She loved him that much.”

  “And that type of dependency we are to aspire to?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that this is not working. Will not work. So figure out if you want this to succeed. And how you plan to do it.”

  He muttered an oath. Out of words. Out of everything.

  She lifted her chin, her gaze on his. “What you said, in New York, about finding out what happens when winning isn’t enough anymore... I think this is your chance to get to the heart of that. To confront the demons you obviously have and figure out what drives you. Otherwise, you’re going to detonate like the bomb you are right now and I don’t think anyone, yourself included, wants that to happen.”

  Turning on her heel, she stalked into the bathroom. He watched her go, clenching his hands by his sides. Why wouldn’t she just admit what she’d done? Why wouldn’t she just move on? He was willing to. He was being more than fair.

  Diavole. He needed this thing with her sorted. Done. He could not fight battles on multiple fronts.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IN THE DAYS that followed Nik’s confrontation with King Idas, tensions continued to mount. The Carnelian king responded to Nik’s challenge to back off by mounting a series of military exercises off the coast of Carnelia, leaving the people of both Akathinia and Carnelia to watch in alarm as the two countries slid closer toward a confrontation.

  It was the wake-up call Nik had needed. Sofía had been right. His grief was ruling him. He had been allowing his emotions to dominate his thinking, gut reaction to rule, something that might have worked in the eat-or-be-eaten world he’d inhabited in Manhattan, but couldn’t be allowed free rein as king of his country.

  It didn’t matter if he hadn’t wanted it, if he was still railing against the unfairness of having his life in New York ripped away from him, he had a nation depending on him to make the right choices at perhaps the most crucial period in its history. He could no longer be the one-man show he’d been in New York where risk taking had been the oxygen he’d breathed, he had to rule by consensus. He had to listen to all the voices.

  He had a choice to make. He could accept the role he’d been given and everything that came with it, truly accept it and move forward, or he could continue to fight it. There was no question which way it had to go. He needed his peace of mind back.

  An alliance with Aristos Nicolades in place in exchange for Nik’s support of a casino license for the billionaire, Nik had come to Carnelia, his enemy’s turf, to give diplomacy a shot, a council-approved plan in his hand. Although he was convinced the council was wrong in its estimation Idas was bluffing at future aggression, he would give the plan a shot, knowing a more robust armed forces was on the way as insurance.

  He stood, looking out at a picture-perfect view of the mountainous Carnelian countryside, a host of emotions running through him as he waited for the king to arrive.

  Athamos had perished in those mountains from which Akathinia had once been ruled, his car plunging to the rocky shore below in a death too horrific to imagine. His great-grandfather Damokles had fought for and achieved Akathinia’s independence over a century ago on the Ionian Sea he could see sparkling from the king’s personal salon, winning his nation’s right to self-determination.

  It could not be allowed to be taken away.

  A door opened behind him. He swiveled to face the king, who entered the room alone. His surprise must have shown on his face for Idas shot him a pointed look, his hawkish face amused. “You came by yourself, Nikandros. I am assuming you are interested in having a frank discussion.”

  “Yes.”

  Idas waved him into a chair and sat down. “Allow me to express my condolences once again for your brother’s death. It was difficult to do so with so many others in our last meeting.”

  Nik lifted a brow. “Kostas couldn’t have said that to me personally?”

  The king’s eyes flickered. “My son has taken Athamos’s death badly. They were rivals, yes, but their history is long, filled with a mutual respect that went very deep as you know.”

  “Was it a woman that provoked their disagreement?” He couldn’t prevent himself from asking the question that wouldn’t leave his head.

  Idas shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. Perhaps in time, we will both learn the answer.”

  He got the sense the old man was telling the truth. Idas rested a speculative gaze on Nik. “Congratulations on your match to the beautiful American. The star-studded engagement party is tonight, is it not? A message to the world, perhaps, Nikandros? That you have the international community behind you?”

  “But we do,” Nik said smoothly. “The world will not sit by and watch you do this.”

  The king sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “The international community seems to have a different opinion on territories with historic ties to one other. Particularly when segments of the population would prefer a return to the old boundaries. It tends to view them as local issues. Problem spots they don’t want to get their hands dirty with.”

  “Not Akathinia. It is a former colonial jewel. Internationally loved. It would be seen as outrageous.”

  “Outrageous is something I’m comfortable with.”

  Nik’s fingers bit into his thighs. “We don’t need the world’s help, Idas. We have the strength to make this a very bloody and costly war should you choose to take a wrong step.”

  “How?” the king derided. “Your military forces are nothing compared to ours.”

  “You have old information. Your spies should do better reconnaissance.”

  The king regarded him skeptically. Nik sat forward. “It’s common knowledge Carnelia is struggling. Thus your need for Akathinia’s rich tourism and resource base. That will never happen, but we are open to the idea of expanding trade talks with you. Lending you some of our natural resource expertise so you can further develop your own base. But this,” he stressed, “is contingent on your ceasing your rhetoric in the media. On your agreement to respect Akathinia’s sovereignty as we pursue discussions.”

  A play of emotion crossed the king’s face. Greed, another hefty dose of skepticism and...interest. “It’s an intriguing proposition.”

  “New sources of income are the answer, Idas.” Nik drilled his point home. “Not an unpopular war.”

  A silence followed. “We will need some time to consider it.”

  “You will have it. If you give me your word you will
not act militarily upon Akathinia during the time of these negotiations.”

  The king stood up and walked to the French doors. When he turned around after a lengthy silence, Nik knew he had won.

  They shook hands. Nik walked out of the palace into the bright sunshine and on to the waiting helicopter. He wasn’t stupid enough to think the threat of Idas had been neutralized. But it was a start. A very real success he could take to his critics, to the people, and move forward with.

  He drew in a breath as the sleek black bird rose straight into the air. For the first time in weeks he felt as if he could breathe.

  The palace, surrounded by the mountainous Carnelian countryside, faded to a mere blip on the ground as the helicopter rose high in the sky. He sat back in his seat and turned his thoughts to his fiancée. His other persistent problem he couldn’t seem to fix. She should have been neutralized as an issue when she’d agreed to marry him. When his heir had been secured. Instead her insistence she hadn’t planned her pregnancy, her demand he trust her was an impasse they couldn’t seem to get past.

  He agreed it was out of character for her to have done it. For the vastly independent Sofía he’d known in New York to get pregnant to keep a man. Nor was she acting like a woman who’d gotten everything she’d wanted. She was acting the opposite—as if she was the trapped one. Which made him wonder if it had simply been an error in judgment on her part. An impulse she regretted. Sofía reaching for the money and security she’d never had. Perhaps she hadn’t even realized what she’d been doing?

  Or he could be wrong. Sofía could be telling the truth. The medication may have affected the efficacy of her birth control pills. But allowing himself to believe that, that she was that honest, different woman he hadn’t been quite ready to let go of in New York wasn’t an alternative he could allow himself to consider. He wouldn’t be made a fool of a second time. Not when his last mistake with a woman had produced a scandal that had rocked his family. Not when now, of all times, his head had to be clear, something it evidently hadn’t been up until now.

  What they needed, he decided, was a fresh start. With neither of them bearing any axes to grind. Which, he conceded, involved developing a healthy relationship between them as Sofía had said. Which he could do. He liked her. He admired her strength—the survivor in her. He appreciated her vulnerability—her soft underside that would make her a great mother. They had been good together in New York. If they could both move on from this, they could make a great team.

  Tonight, he decided grimly, he was solving this impasse.

  The helicopter banked and followed the coast, bound for Akathinia. An impulse took hold. He leaned forward and shouted an instruction to the pilot. The pilot nodded and changed direction. Fifteen minutes later, they landed on a flat patch of green halfway up the southern Carnelian mountain range.

  Nik stepped out of the helicopter, walked across the field and hiked the half mile down to the treacherous, winding road that dropped away to the pounding rocks and surf below.

  The site of his brother’s accident was marked by the masses of flowers that lay at the side of the road, once a vibrant burst of color, now withering and dying.

  Soon they would disintegrate into nothing.

  For the first time since he’d been informed of the accident in that mind-numbing conversation with Abram, he acknowledged his brother wasn’t coming back. Wasn’t ever coming back. That this all hadn’t been the horrific nightmare he’d wanted it to be. Just because they hadn’t managed to find his brother’s body when they’d pulled the car from the sea didn’t mean he wasn’t gone.

  Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, scalding in the whip of the wind. You need to give yourself permission to grieve. He hadn’t done that. Just as he’d suspected, it was a dark tunnel he had no desire to travel through.

  Athamos smiling that wicked grin of his at him as they’d cut the sails in the America’s Cup and declared victory for Akathinia. His brother’s fierce countenance when they’d fought tooth and nail over their beliefs. His big grin when they’d made their peace with one another.

  It was lost to him now. There wasn’t any time left to tell him how he’d truly felt. To mend the fences that had risen between them. To ask his brother what the hell he’d been doing in that car racing Kostas that night. Answers he would never have. Answers he would have given anything to have.

  In that moment, as he stared into the gray, stormy surf below, he had to believe all of this had happened for a reason. That there was some sense in this.

  * * *

  As the minutes ticked closer to Sofía and Nik’s first official appearance together, Sofía’s general demeanor vacillated from a numbness that shielded her from it all to a stubborn defiance that this media frenzy wouldn’t get to her.

  “It doesn’t matter what I wear,” she told Stella, who was putting the finishing touches on her hair. “They wanted a countess. They’re going to crucify me regardless of what I show up in.”

  “Give them time,” Stella soothed, wrapping a wayward strand of Sofía’s hair into the sophisticated updo she’d engineered. “Once they get to know you, they’re going to love you.”

  She already had that in New York. Her friends appreciated her. Her clients appreciated her. And yet in her first public appearance here, a visit to a youth charity with Stella, she’d been pegged as lacking in charisma. Stiff.

  What did they expect? They had spoken of her as a foreigner from day one, incapable of understanding the nuances of Akathinian society. Nik’s scandalous acquisition rumored to be pregnant. A far cry from the countess they’d been teased with, and the influence the Agieros exercised across Europe.

  Was she supposed to have walked into that charity event and shone under that criticism? Under the barrage of it that seemed to come daily—when all she really wanted was to be back at the boutique, where business was booming as her face became a household name. The only upside that seemed to be coming from all this!

  Stella eyed her in the mirror. “I was skeptical about you in the beginning, you know, like everyone else. Women have treated Nik as a prize to be won for so long we’re all a bit jaded about it. But I can see that you care about him. That you are true, Sofía, in everything that you do. And that’s exactly what Nik needs after that piece of work he was with.”

  Sofía frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “A woman, of course. A nasty piece of work he could have done without.” Stella made a face. “Rather than risk Nik’s ire at divulging his secrets, I won’t get into the whole sordid story. Suffice it to say he has reasons to be as cynical as he is. Give him some time, some latitude. He’s worth it.”

  She closed her eyes as Stella engulfed her in a cloud of hair spray. If only she could confide in her future sister-in-law as to the lows her and Nik’s relationship had hit. How they were hardly talking. How his mistrust of her was killing them. But as warm as her and Stella’s relationship had gotten, Stella was still Nik’s sister and she wasn’t about to go there.

  With Katharine busy running the boutique, she would have only her mother and Benetio, her fiancé, by her side tonight.

  “Stop frowning,” Stella murmured, fussing with one last wayward curl. “Don’t you know frown lines never go away?”

  Frown lines didn’t happen to be her biggest concern at the moment. Faking she and Nik were supremely happy in front of the world was. The only thing that kept her from a full-on pity party was the knowledge that Nik had placed himself on enemy territory today in an attempt to find a diplomatic solution with Carnelia. It made her stomach churn every time she thought of him meeting with that madman.

  What if Idas tried something? Surely he wouldn’t do anything provocative, the rational side of her brain proclaimed. The pulse pounding at the base of her neck suggested she’d be fine once he was back here all in one piece. Which was really rather trait
orous behavior on her part because she hated him for thinking the worst of her. Hated he thought she could be so duplicitous as to trap him into marriage.

  Stella made an approving sound and stepped back. “Oriste. You look spectacular.”

  “Indeed she does.”

  Both of them whirled around at the sound of Nik’s deep, resonant voice. Sofía’s pulse took off at a dead run. Not only was he in one heart-stoppingly gorgeous suit, there was a triumphant glitter in his eyes, an aura of power about him that did something crazy to her insides.

  “What happened?” Stella demanded.

  Nik shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on a chair. “Idas has agreed to back off while we discuss an economic renewal plan for Carnelia that Akathinia will help facilitate.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I hope not,” he said drily. “I was looking forward to giving the council some good news.”

  “And so you shall.” Stella flew toward him and gave him a hug. “I wish I could have been a fly on the wall for that meeting.”

  Nik loosened his tie. “It doesn’t mean the threat is gone. Idas is dangerous. But this gives us some time to build up our forces in case negotiations fall through.”

  Stella nodded. Glanced at her watch. “Good heavens, it’s almost six. I need to get dressed.”

  Nik’s sister whipped out of the room, promising to meet them downstairs in an hour. Sofía got to her feet, her knees a bit weak with relief. “Congratulations. I’m sure that must take a weight off your shoulders.”

  “For now.” He crossed over to her until he stood mere inches from her. It was the closest they’d been to each other since the night of their big blowout and it set her heart thrumming in her chest. “Thank you for what you said to me that night on the terrace,” he said quietly. “I needed to hear it. I needed the perspective.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “If we’re a team, that’s what we should be doing for each other.”