And his life was full of changes at the moment.
Sunny wormed its way around his ankles and Angus scowled down at her. “You do understand you shed when you do that?”
“I knew you would warm to her.”
Angus looked up and gave Siobhan a shake of his head. “Not even close. The infernal thing won’t leave me alone.”
Hearing the voice of her mistress, Sunny lazily made its way to Siobhan, who bent down to scratch behind her ears. “But she senses the authority inside you,” she remarked with a laugh. “And as an intelligent woman, she likes it.”
Angus didn’t respond, instead enjoying the view of Siobhan in a stunning long silver dress, showing more than enough of her cleavage, and the sparkling crown on her raven hair, showing the world that, even if they weren’t married yet, she was already his princess.
Coming behind her, he put his hand over the slight bump on her midsection, feeling under the dress the tight panties she wore. He frowned. “You won’t be able to hide it for long, you know.”
She straightened, her hand going over his, and turned her head to look into his eyes. “I know. I just don’t want the attention to be on me tonight. This is a very special night for you and Lektenstaten.”
He was surprised she cared so much. “It is a special night for the Romani people.”
Siobhan knew that it was, but she could see the relief in Angus’s eyes that it was all over with. The Romani people would have a voice. It was a time to celebrate.
He held out his arm. “Are you ready, Angel?”
“Yes, Dragon, I am.” She gave him a bright smile, and placed her hand in the crook of his arm, reveling in the warmth she felt from his body.
He looked every inch the king he was, powerful, mighty, and wise, and she hadn’t felt so proud since the moment she stepped foot into his world as she did now.
37
Diamanta and Javert were the last ones in the line.
They bowed, Diamanta not as much as her son, or the other guests. “Your Majesty, Miss Faulkner.”
“Congratulations, Diamanta. I know how much work you put into this election,” Angus said, and then stretched his hand out to Javert. “Congratulations.”
“I am but a humble servant to the new Prime Minister,” Javert said. “My work is complete, and I can dedicate myself to Miss Faulkner’s business.”
“Humble does not become you, Javert.” Angus chuckled.
Javert’s golden eyes flashed.
“You are correct, Sir. I am not very good at being humble, but I do appreciate the support.”
“Dom Mircea will need a great deal of support in the coming months.” Diamanta looked from Angus to her son and smiled. “And you will be the right man to stand at his side.”
“Of course,” Angus replied lightly, annoyed with the barb. Taking Siobhan’s hand, he motioned for them and said, “Shall we?”
8:00 p.m.
More wine was poured, and the main course was served. The musicians played in a sedate tune. Everything was going smoothly when Angus picked up Siobhan’s hand in his, and brought her fingers to his solid erection and whispered to her, “I’m dying here looking at your lovely breasts.”
Siobhan shot him a horrified look, but he just smiled around at the guests in the hall as if nothing was amiss.
She was not nearly as stealthy as her wayward fiancé. Her body instantly came alive with interest, her nipples betraying her arousal at the feel of his hard cock pulsing under her hand.
“If you want me to quell that flame burning in you, we can disappear for a moment after dessert. I would be very pleased to lick the fire from your sweet pussy.”
“Angus, stop.” But the danger of it excited her in a way she had not thought possible and she did not resist as much as she should have, her fingers began to stroke him long and slow.
“Or perhaps you could be persuaded beneath the table to tend to me.” His words were tempered with a low bestial groan of pleasure and approval.
“You are glowing, Siobhan,” Mircea, who was seated on her other side, noted. “Like the sun’s last rays.”
Just to have the might proper king of Lektenstaten chuckle loudly.
“Thank you.” She snatched her hand from Angus’s lap, blushing, and grabbed the glass of juice which had been put in front of her and took a gulp of the sweet content, and followed with water, when she discovered it was mango juice, to which she was allergic.
After dessert was served, her head felt lighter and she was happy for it, because Angus had made a few more heated comments which made shivers course through her body.
They walked to the veranda on the back side of the palace along with Mircea and Claudia, where the crowd were gathered, the garden itself transformed into a lovely dance party for the people.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Claudia gushed, her cheeks pink. “I’m to be the Prime Minister’s wife. Oh, I am so nervous!”
“You will do fine,” Siobhan said, grasping her hands lightly. “I shall help wherever I can.”
“Thank you,” Claudia replied, squeezing their clasped hands. “For being a friend.”
Siobhan gave the woman a smile and at Ewan’s prompt, she walked to Angus’s side and the two of them stepped forward, with Javert, Mircea, and Claudia following a couple of feet behind.
Angus raised his hand and the crowd quieted.
“Tonight, we celebrate the ushering of Lektenstaten into a new era, an era where all are heard,” his deep, strong voice carried over the slight wind that had picked up.
The crowd clapped enthusiastically and Siobhan watched with pride as Angus addressed the them, bewitching them with words of wisdom. She was part of this, no matter how much she had fought against it. This was her future, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like once she met her family, and was recognized in front of her own native country.
A loud pop rang out, and when Siobhan looked up to sky, frowning at the wrong start of the fireworks, she was violently pulled back, watching horrified as Javert dived in front of Angus, pushing him with an open palm, and shouting, “Get down!”
“Angus!” But she was grabbed by one of her ever-present bodyguards and rushed inside with Claudia and Mircea, the guards surrounding them and forming a blockade as they frantically talked into their mics, and more shots were heard.
“Angus!” Siobhan shouted, panic starting to rise in her throat, as she saw him on the ground. He can’t be injured. I wouldn’t be able to take it if something happens to him.
“What’s happening?” Claudia cried, grabbing Mircea’s arm. “Where’s Javert and Diamanta?”
“Let me go!” Siobhan shouted, flaying and pushing at the nearest guard holding her. “Angus might be hurt.”
“Siobhan.”
His voice was like sweet relief as he pushed through the guards, his expression both angry and worried. “Thank God you are alright.”
“Oh, my God, Angus! Are you hurt?” she asked, running her hands over his body, looking for any blood or bullet wounds.
“I’m fine.” He crushed her to him.
Siobhan buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed, tears of fear and relief coming through. He’s alive, he’s well. Everything is going to be fine.
9:00 p.m.
Siobhan felt terrible as she walked to her rooms with Ewan—and six bodyguards. Her stomach churned, and she sweated profusely.
Angus had stayed on the first floor to keep himself apprised of any developments, his need to know what was happening temporarily outweighing his need to be with Siobhan.
Once alone, Siobhan stumbled to the bathroom to wash her tear-stricken face, and remove her ruined make-up.
She had been so nervous about Angus, her heart nearly stopped beating when she saw him on the ground. Her heartbeat quickened.
He was so bold, strong, and sexual. He had such a caring heart, even if he didn’t acknowledge it. She couldn’t even imagine losing him. The anguish she had
felt was worse than any injury she’d ever known.
Tears started anew, and the chills didn’t stop. In fact, they seemed to get worse.
She felt as if her whole body was being sucked into an abyss: her head hurt, her skin was hot, then cold, and her stomach was bubbling.
Shivering uncontrollably, Siobhan tugged the crown off her head and set it on the floor as she sank to the ground. Crawling on her hands and knees across the bathroom’s marble floor, she barely made it to the toilet before she started to throw up.
38
9:10 p.m
It was utter chaos in the medical ward of the palace.
Angus watched as Dr. Singh, who happened to be one of his guests tonight, bound Javert’s shoulder tightly, while a stretcher was prepared to take him to the hospital. “You are very lucky it was a through and through shot.”
When the shots rang out, Angus had thought Mircea was the target. Never in a million years would he have assumed he was the target. Now everything was coming to a head, a clear path of what had happened to Siobhan. She never was the ultimate target.
“Take care of him as if he were me, doctor,” Angus said, as the doctor started out of the room.
Angus shook his head and sat down for a moment, his hands and legs trembling lightly, the weight of what could have happened starting to sink in.
Someone had tried to kill him.
The door opened and two of his most trusted agents from Lektenstaten intelligence stepped in, followed by Ewan.
“Your Majesty.”
Angus faced them. “Did you find them?”
“They did find one woman.” Ewan stepped forward. “Diamanta Romani, dead on the edge of the forest by her own hand. She was carrying a gun and had gunpowder on her hands. A preliminary exam indicates the bullets in her gun are consistent with the bullet fragments buried in the wall on the patio.”
“Diamanta,” Angus said dully, surprised. “Are you sure?” Why? Had she been behind the attack on Siobhan?
“All the evidences point at her, but investigations will reveal more.”
Diamanta had been someone he respected, someone they all cared about. He would have never imagined she would be capable of doing such horrible things, including murder. “Was she working alone?”
“It seems so. We have yet to find indications of anyone else being involved, but it's still early in the investigation.”
He nodded, wondering what they would find out once all stones were overturned. What was her motivation? “I want it all kept under lock and key. Say nothing to no one or we might have a revolution on our hands.”
All Angus cared about now was getting back to Siobhan.
Had Javert not acted so fast, Siobhan would be making plans for his funeral. He nearly missed out on his future with her, seeing the child they had created.
His steps faltered a bit and Angus firmed his legs.
Even with the words of love they had shared, he was still frozen with fear that she would leave him and it would be out of his control.
Angus blew out a breath. The affairs of the heart were going to kill him in the end. But, I will die a happy man.
Entering into their bedroom, Angus glanced around. Siobhan wasn’t on the chaise.
With a soft smile, he started for the bedroom. He craved her nearness to chase the demons from his thoughts. There was nothing she could do to change what happened to Javert, but the idea of her gentle hands holding him was comfort in itself.
To his surprise, she wasn’t there.
“Angel?” he called. Frowning, he searched the balcony before looking for her on the dressing closet.
He stopped when he heard a sound in the bathroom. He imagined her in the bath—warm and naked—but as he neared the closed door, his senses prickled, and when he tried to open it, he found it locked.
Knocking, he called, “Siobhan?”
Her answer was a cough, before she moaned, “Go away.”
“Open the door.”
There was only silence.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
Cursing, he slammed the wood with his shoulder. It took a few times before the lock gave away, allowing him to charge inside.
“Siobhan…?” The question died on his lips as he stumbled on her discarded crown.
His blood ran cold as he took in the scene.
Siobhan was sprawled out on the floor. Her lips were blue and a pool of saliva had formed on the tile floor.
“Angel!” he yelled, and bent down to turn her over. Her skin was so cold, he was sure she had to be dead, but she coughed, allowing his heart to resume beating. “Siobhan?”
He swept her into his arms. Her crown bent under his boot as he stepped on it, but he didn’t care.
He rushed her from the bathroom, praying he was not too late.
She stirred with the movement. Her lids lifted wearily so she could look at him, and she mumbled, “Dragon…”
She was out.
As he sprinted toward the palace medical ward, he yelled, “Call Dr. Singh, she’s been poisoned.”
Before he was all the way through the door, Siobhan was whisked from his arms, her near lifeless body hanging limply as a doctor carried her to the examination room in the back.
11:35 p.m.
“Ms. Faulkner has not stopped throwing up, even though there is nothing else in her system, and she’s still unconscious,” Dr. Singh had said an hour after they had taken Siobhan from his arms. “Is she allergic to any food?”
He looked stupidly at Dr. Singh for a moment before calling Jaxon, who told him in one single breath she was allergic to mangoes and he was coming immediately to Lekten. Angus told him to book the first available private jet at his expense.
Ludwig had stopped by but it hadn’t distracted Angus, who grew anxious for fresh news as the minutes ticked by.
He was still staring helplessly at the door leading to where they took Siobhan, when Ewan rushed into the waiting room.
Angus asked, “Any news?”
“Your guess was right, Your Majesty. Miss Faulkner has been poisoned. It was hemlock. I informed Dr. Singh by radio as soon as the flower was discovered in Diamanta’s bag.”
“Poisoned, hemlock,” he repeated dumbly. He had no idea what hemlock was, or what it could do. His stomach balled into a knot. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his mouth went completely dry, but he managed to ask, “Is it…dangerous?”
Ewan took a deep breath and looked away, blinking. He had gotten attached to the spirited Siobhan in the few months he had gotten to know her.
“Ewan, for fuck’s sake!”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Ewan whispered. “There is no antidote available for hemlock.”
A blank stare came over Angus’s face before he tilted his head back and a deep, guttural howl of anger came from some unfathomable part of his soul.
“No! No, no, no!”
He couldn’t imagine living without her.
She had all but consumed his life, making him feel like the man he had always wanted to feel like.
She made him a better man, one that could look himself in the mirror in the morning and be proud and happy of what he had.
“No!” He let out another below and smashed his fist into the wall, which brought Dr. Singh and a nurse running into the room.
Angus grabbed Dr. Singh by the arms, raising him from the ground and shaking the short doctor as if he were a leaf. “Tell me she’s not going to die! Tell me!”
“Sir! Sir!” A horrified Ewan pulled on Angus’s forearm trying to stop him. “Angus Augustus Braxton-Lenox, stop that right now!”
Being called by his full name, in the way his mother did when she was angry with him, brought Angus to reason, and he put the stunned doctor on the floor, ashamed. “I’m so sorry, doctor. So sorry.”
“I think you saved me a trip to the chiropractor, Your Majesty.” Dr. Singh straightened out his clothes and stretched his shoulders back. Then, “No, Sir, Miss Faulkner is not going to di
e. She was lucky the poison was put in a mango juice. The vomiting expelled most of the poison from her body before it could do worse damage.”
Angus dropped heavily on the sofa and passed a hand over his face. “Thank God.”
“But her health inspires care. Gastrointestinal decontamination and aggressive supportive care are the mainstays of treatment, which we have done already,” Dr. Singh explained. “Do you want to see her?”
Angus was already on his feet before the doctor could finish the question and as they walked to her room, the doctor told him that if he hadn’t found her when he did, she would be dead.
And then he realized Dr. Singh hadn’t mentioned their baby. “The child?”
“Sir, we must wait,” Dr. Singh said in a serious tone as he pushed the door to Siobhan’s room open. “Poison hemlock causes skeletal deformities in the offspring of livestock that eat the plants during gestation and we have no literature on pregnant women surviving hemlock poisoning.”
A very pale—but not cyanotic—Siobhan was lying in the middle of the bed, lines and tubes all around her and an oxygen mask over her face. She looked so small in the bed, but he was glad she finally rested and breathed quietly.
He wasn’t sure if she was getting better, or if the medicine they gave her kept her from looking worse.
Hour after hour, Angus watched over her, staring at each rise and fall of her chest, willing her to keep fighting—one more breath in…one more breath out.
The following night, he wrapped his body around hers, whispering against her hair, “You enjoy being contrary. Now prove them all wrong and get better.”
39
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
8:30 p.m.
“Angus Augustus.”
He turned from the window to see Catriona at the door. “Mother, what are you doing in here?”
“I heard about the attack,” she said, entering the room and approaching him after a brief look at Siobhan on the bed. “I have come to tell you something.”
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