His gaze held hers. “Yes, we should. I want us to have a fresh start, Sofía. We need to end this impasse between us. We need to make this relationship work, for our sake and for our child’s. Things may not have begun under the most ideal of circumstances, but we decide where our relationship goes from here. I want it to be a good one.”
She pursed her lips. “But you still don’t believe me about the pregnancy?”
“Sofía,” he growled. “Let it go. The point is we need to move on. You said you want me to open up to you, to learn how to be in a relationship. I’m willing to do that. I’m willing to open up to you and learn to trust each other.”
“To a point,” she bit out. “That one thing will always sit there between us festering.” She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him. “What’s your ulterior motive here, Nik? Do you want to fix us so you can move on with more important things?”
His face tightened. “I’m offering an olive branch here. It would be nice if you would accept it.”
“Why the sudden change in heart?”
“My parents’ marriage was a political one. Amicable enough in the beginning out of the respect they had for each other. My mother came from an aristocratic family—she knew her role. But the one thing she couldn’t handle were my father’s affairs. Not unusual for a sovereign, but my mother has a great deal of pride. It was her one stipulation and he broke it.
“Their marriage became a war zone,” he continued. “Our home became a war zone. I will not have that for my child. Our child.”
“But can you trust me? Truly trust me?” She fixed her gaze on his. “We need that above all else if this is going to work, Nik.”
His lashes lowered. “I will work on it.”
Her heart dropped. She had the feeling he might never trust her. Never let go of what he thought she’d done. But what choice did she have but to try to make it work?
She spun away toward the wardrobe in search of her shoes. “You need to get ready.”
“Sofía—”
“Not now, Nik.” She turned around and faced him, hands on hips. “Every reporter in Akathinia is waiting for me to step into that ballroom so they can analyze me from every angle. So that they can further expose my deficiencies and label me not up to snuff. So let’s just get it over with, shall we?”
His eyes widened, then narrowed. “The press will come around. You need to be patient and stop worrying so much about what people think. I saw the coverage of the charity event. You didn’t look like yourself at all. Stop hiding under that shell of yours and let people see you.”
“So they can dig their claws in deeper?” She rolled her eyes. “No, thank you.”
“I wouldn’t do that again if I were you.”
“Do what?”
“Roll your eyes.”
“Why? Because you’re a king?
“Because it’s disrespectful.” He stalked toward her. “What’s really bothering you?”
Her chin dipped. “I just told you.”
“How did the designing go today?”
“Not well. Nothing’s working. I threw them all out.”
He shook his head. “You can’t force it. You’re pushing too hard with everything. Give yourself some space. Take a day off.”
“It’s my sanity,” she growled.
“Good thing, then, I’ve set aside some downtime for us.”
“Downtime? Isn’t that an oxymoron for you?”
He ignored the gibe. “Things are in control for the moment. Idas will sign. Which means you and I are going away for the weekend where we are addressing all of this, Sofía. All of it. I can’t be fighting battles on multiple fronts.”
And there was the real issue. Not him caring about her. She was taking up his precious brain space.
She lifted her chin. “I don’t have time. I have a wedding to plan.”
“To supervise,” he corrected, stripping off his tie and starting on the buttons of his shirt. “And we aren’t going far. Just to the summerhouse.”
The one on the private island off the shore of Akathinia Stella had pointed out on their tour? Her stomach curled in on itself. “It’s not necessary. We can work things out here.”
“Like we’ve been doing?” He lifted a brow as he shrugged out of his shirt. “We are good together, Sofía. We will make a great team together if we can iron out this discord.”
“If that’s even possible.”
“Oh, it’s possible.” He threw his shirt on the chair and breezed past her on his way to the bathroom. “The only variable is how long it takes for you to give in to what you know is the truth. And how I make you do it.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Did I actually like you once?”
He paused in midstride, his mouth tugging up at the corners in one of those rare devilish smiles that made her heart go pitter-patter. “You adored me once, glykeia mou. I’m sure you can get that loving feeling back.”
“Oof.” She stared at him as he walked into the bathroom. Her engagement ring shimmered in the light as she made a rude hand gesture at his back. The cursed ring.
“Haven’t you already doomed us with this ring?”
He turned around, the smile fading from his face. “I bought you that ring because you loved it. Because we don’t need luck. We can do this, Sofía. You just have to make the call.”
She stood there, shoes in hand as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting up. Damn him. This was not the way she needed to face the most intimidating night of her life. Off balance and suddenly unsure of everything.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOFÍA HAD ATTENDED a seemingly endless amount of events in New York to promote her business to the fashionable women who frequented them. Hospital fund-raisers, art galas, gallery openings, society events, all at stunning venues with the crème de la crème of society in attendance. But not one of those occasions could have prepared her for the near frenetic energy that surrounded the palace as car after car of dignitaries and upper-crust Akathinians arrived under the furious shutters of the paparazzi cameras.
Lit this evening in the gold and blue national colors of Akathinia, the palace looked straight out of a fairy tale with its square turrets and gold-accented glory. Sofía and Nik stood at the center of it all at the head of the receiving line with Nik’s family, Sofía in a bloodred gown by her favorite Italian designer and Nik in ceremonial military dress that made him look lethally handsome.
Her mother and her fiancé, Benetio, already inside, Sofía turned a smile on the King and Queen of Sweden, her lips feeling as if they were painted on by this point. “So lovely to meet you,” she murmured to the queen.
On and on it went, for another thirty minutes, names and faces blurring into one another. Ambassadors, European royalty, upper-crust Akathinians and the filthy rich who spent their life moving from one party to the next.
She lifted her head to offer one of the final arrivals a smile. Almost done. And lost it immediately. Stunning in an ice-blue gown, the simplicity of which only enhanced her elegant, reed-thin figure, Sofía would have recognized the countess anywhere. She was so perfect she almost didn’t look real with her coiffed, ethereal beauty.
Her own defiant choice of red suddenly screamed overdone.
“Countess,” she murmured, inclining her head.
The countess’s gaze slid over her in the same unabashed study as Sofía had given her. Sofía stood, back ramrod straight, head tossed back under the scrutiny.
“What a...sensational choice of dress,” the countess finally responded, leaning forward to blow air-kisses to both of Sofía’s cheeks. “It makes quite a statement. Congratulations to you and Nikandros.”
Sofía drew back. The scarlet woman, she might as well have said. Nik’s pregn
ant lover who’d reeled him in. She could just imagine all the labels running through the countess’s head.
Frosty Maurizio and the rest of the Agieros were next, then the American ambassador to Akathinia, who, at least, finished off the endless precession on a pleasant note.
Nik curved his fingers around hers. “Now you can relax.”
Relax? Was that a joke?
The paparazzi chanted their names from the bottom of the steps, the refrain growing louder with every second. Nik tugged on her hand to turn her around. “They’ve been patient,” he said, “let’s give them a good shot.”
She didn’t have a smile left in her as they walked down the steps toward the crowd of photographers. Not a single one. Nik slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “You’re stiff as a board,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re supposed to be in love with me. Fairy-tale engagement and all that.”
She pasted one last fake smile on her face. “I’m a terrible actor.”
“Then don’t act.” He turned her toward him, his fingers curving around her jaw as he brought his mouth down on hers in a hard, possessive kiss. No avenue of escape existed with camera flashbulbs exploding all around them, Nik’s less than PG-rated kiss passionate, demonstrative, demanding a response from her. Knocked completely off balance, Sofía curved her fingers around his lapel to steady herself.
The paparazzi loved it, catcalls and whistles filling the air as their flashes went mad. Sofía surrendered helplessly, for what else could she do, her lips clinging to Nik’s, her body poised on tiptoe as she absorbed the magic of what it was like to be kissed by him.
A dangerous occupation.
Nik lifted his mouth from hers, eyes glittering. “Much better.”
She fought for composure, heart pounding, lips stinging. “You have your reaction,” she came back tartly. “We’re needed inside.”
His low laughter taunted her. “That wasn’t even close to the reaction I’m looking for from you, Sofía. We save that for later.”
Flashbulbs continued to explode in her face. She ignored him, or attempted to with her insides a hot mess of confusion.
“Sofía,” a paparazzi called. “Who are you wearing?”
A genuine smile curved her lips. “Francesco Villa. He’s a genius. He’s making my wedding dress.”
They answered a handful of other questions, then turned to make their way up the steps.
“Sofía. It’s rumored you’re carrying the royal heir. Care to comment?”
She froze, desperately grateful her back was to the cameras. She would have given it away in a shutter click. Nik’s hand tightened around hers as they turned back to the cameras.
“I’m working on it,” he drawled. “Isn’t that supposed to be the enjoyable part?”
Laughter rang out. The photographer held up his camera in a wry gesture that said “I had to ask.”
She and Nik resumed their path up the steps. “Better you took that one,” she murmured. “Although I’m not sure that’s the way I would have answered it.”
They made their way into the palace and up to the second-story ballroom. The service staff scurried to ensure the guests had a glass of champagne in their hands before they made their entrance.
She stood beside Nik underneath the massive, twenty-foot-high double doors to the ballroom, her stomach spinning circles. The room looked magical cast in its blue-and-gold glow, its ten-foot-wide chandeliers dripping with crystal rivaling the jewels that adorned the exquisitely clad guests.
It was like walking into a fairy tale. Except this was real. She was about to marry a king.
A fleeting wish that this was real instead of being the pretend, practical union it was flashed through her head. She extinguished it as quickly as it came because believing in fairy tales had never been a luxury for her. That had all ended far too early in life.
A booming voice announced them. She took Nik’s arm as they moved to the front of the room to give the welcome toast. The glare of the spotlight, the sensation of hundreds of eyes on her made her hand tremble as she took the glass of sparkling juice a waiter handed her. She kept her eyes on Nik to ground herself.
Nik lifted his glass. “Tonight is a joyous occasion for Akathinia. A time for us to celebrate this stunning nation we are fortunate enough to call our own, and my beautiful bride-to-be, Sofía.” He turned to face her, his brilliant blue gaze resting on her face. “Sofía reminds me so much of our great country. Vibrant and proud. Strong. I know Akathinia will benefit from her warmth, wisdom and perspective.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. It was a message, she knew, for the press and Akathinians gathered, but it did something funny to her insides.
His attention switched back to the crowd. “Let this also be a night for healing. A time for us all to move on. My brother was taken from us far too soon,” he said, a rough edge inflecting his tone, “in far too unjust a way, but I know tonight, he would have wanted us to celebrate. To let him go.
“Thank you for coming,” he said huskily, lifting his glass. “We look forward to sharing this special evening with you.”
Sofía lifted her glass, a deep throb in her chest. It was as if he had finally let himself feel. To digest the pain that was clearly tearing him apart. She thought perhaps the message of renewal had been meant for her, too. That they needed to move on.
She and Nik circulated. They sought out her mother and Benetio first, who had arrived that afternoon. Sofía had never seen her mother so radiant and happy. It was bittersweet to watch with the turmoil going on inside of her. With how far apart they were emotionally. Her mother had never been able to give, only take. And yet, watching her with Benetio, their relationship looked reciprocal. Her fiancé had managed to draw her mother out of herself, something she had never been able to do.
But maybe someday that would change, she told herself, kissing Benetio on the cheek and hugging her mother. Maybe Nik was right. Maybe this was a time for renewal.
“It’s all so exciting,” her mother exclaimed, looking up at Sofía’s fiancé. “A real king. How lucky is my daughter?”
A smile tugged at Nik’s mouth. “She says that all the time. She just said it to me earlier actually. How fortunate she was to have met me.”
“So true,” Sofía drawled. “I could spend all day detailing your attributes. They are so...compelling.”
Nik looked only more amused. Her mother rattled on about her own wedding plans until they were forced to move on, promising to find them later.
“Perhaps you’ll catch some of your mother’s enthusiasm for the wedding planning,” Nik murmured as he guided her toward the next group, which he’d informed her included the devil himself, Aristos Nicolades.
“Perhaps I would,” she conceded, “if I didn’t have a million and one protocols to follow.”
“Which are what the wedding planner is for.” He pressed a palm to her back as the loosely arranged grouping that was their target parted to admit them. A tall, extremely well-built male who looked to be in his early thirties stepped forward. “Your Highness.”
His designer dark stubble and piercing, black-as-sin eyes were a bit breathtaking. The dangerous, edgy vibe the stranger exuded suggested this might be Aristos Nicolades.
Nik stepped forward to shake his hand. “Aristos Nicolades, meet my fiancée, Sofía Ramirez.”
Aristos’s eyes moved over her in an appreciative slide that somehow managed to be proper and not so proper all at the same time. Instead of shaking the hand she offered, he brought it to his mouth, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Nik stiffened beside her at the lapse in propriety.
“The king is a lucky man,” Aristos murmured. “Congratulations.”
As beautiful as he was, as fascinating as his predatory vibe undoubtedly manifested itself for just about any woman on the p
lanet, Aristos’s touch generated none of the electricity she felt when Nik put his hands on her. The magnetic realization that she had been wired for him and him alone.
The thought was more than a little disconcerting.
She retrieved her hand. “So lovely to meet you, Mr. Nicolades, after hearing so much about you.”
Aristos’s mouth curved. “I can imagine the king’s opinion of me could prove quite fascinating. You must enlighten me.”
Nik’s fingers tightened around her elbow. “I am looking forward to us being on the same side, Nicolades. It should prove refreshing.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Nik flicked a glance over the group. “You came with someone?”
Aristos nodded toward a tall blonde immersed in conversation with another woman. “No need to introduce. It’s dying a slow death.”
Nik’s mouth twisted. Sofía absorbed the nonchalant look on Aristos’s face, then glanced over at the vivacious-looking, stunningly beautiful blonde, a response tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Does she know that yet?”
Aristos lifted a shoulder. “Considering the blowout we had before we came, I am fairly sure she does.”
Sofía blinked. Regarded Nik’s lethal rival as the two men embarked on a conversation about meeting the next week. “He’s outrageous,” she murmured to Nik when he wrapped the conversation and propelled her forward into the crowd. “Poor woman.”
He guided her through a traffic jam. “His women are well aware of the score. I’m sure she’s cognizant of the fact her expiration date is almost up.”
“As was mine until the unexpected happened.”
Nik leaned down and brought his mouth to her ear. “You know you and I were more complex than Aristos’s careless liaisons. I hardly think they can be put in the same category.”
Complex? What did that even mean? That the desire they’d had for each other had simply been more consuming than most? That it had been harder to walk away? What would happen when Nik’s lust for her died? Would his attitude be just as apathetic and cynical as Aristos’s? After all, they seemed to be two birds of a feather when it came to women despite what Nik said.
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