by Maisey Yates
He’d hardly thought Layna would present a temptation to him, all things considered.
And yet...when he’d kissed her the other day, she had been a surprise. A burst of flavor on his lips unlike any he’d ever tasted before. And newness, to a man as jaded as himself, was so unexpected it was an aphrodisiac that was almost unmatched.
“Congratulations are in order, I suppose.”
Xander turned to face Stavros, and Eva, who was standing next to him, a glowing smile on her face, her hand over her rounded belly. He wanted to embrace them both. But he didn’t know if he could. And that was a strange thing.
Who didn’t feel they could hug their siblings if they wanted to? Who didn’t speak to their siblings for fifteen years?
Eva had gone from a child to a woman in that time. Having a child of her own. Stavros was a man as well, not the teenage boy he’d been.
Theos. He felt old.
And more than a little bit tired.
“For both of you as well,” he said, keeping back, his hands clasped behind him.
“I’m surprised she agreed to marry you,” Stavros said, his eyes flashing over to Layna, who seemed to be shrinking into the corner under the watchful eyes of their many guests.
“Are you?” he asked. “We had an agreement before I left.”
“And things have changed.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said.
Eva smiled, shy but with a glimmer of that old sparkle in her eyes. “Xander, I’m glad you’re back. I don’t want things to be weird between us. So let’s skip all of the regret and angry stuff. I’ll leave that to you and Stavros, since I doubt he’ll let it go as fast as I will. I, for one, have missed you for too long, and I won’t waste a second of you being back here with anger.”
“I appreciate that, Eva,” he said, feeling strangely tight around the chest. “I plan on staying.”
Stavros frowned. “I would love to never speak to you again. But you’re going to be the king. And my wife tells me that I should be nice because not only are you the future king, you are the uncle to our children, and it would be wrong of me to deprive you or them of that relationship.”
“She threatened you, didn’t she?” Eva asked, smiling.
“I don’t want to sleep on the couch for the rest of my life,” Stavros said, his tone dry. “But someday...we’ll have to talk more. And someday, perhaps I will not be so angry. But not today.”
Xander nodded. “Yes.” But he knew they wouldn’t talk about everything. Never about everything.
He made the rounds with Stavros and Eva, meeting Stavros’s wife, Jessica, and their two children, and Eva’s husband, Mak.
He looked back at Layna, who was slinking into the wall now, fading. “Excuse me,” he said, “I have to go and ask a woman to dance.”
He didn’t want to see her do this. Didn’t want to watch her try and disappear, and he wasn’t even certain why. Why it should matter.
It shouldn’t. She would get him the positive press he needed, she was a worthy choice to produce heirs. Nothing beyond that should matter.
But it did.
“Are you trying to turn into another coat of paint?” he asked, when he was near to her.
“What?”
“You look like you’re trying to become part of the wall,” he said.
“You left me alone and I feel...I feel self-conscious.”
“You look...”
She shook her head. “Don’t.”
“But you do.”
“Compared to the way I usually look.”
“So I’m not allowed to win?”
She blinked, dark lashes fanning over high cheekbones. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, you will come and dance with me and stop acting like you wish you could melt into the floor.”
She looked stricken. “We’re really going to dance?”
“That’s why we practiced, darling.” He extended his hand and she looked at him like he was offering her forbidden fruit. He felt like he was. Like he was on the verge of bringing her into something he had no right to drag her in to.
But it was too late. She was here. In front of hundreds of people, his ring glittering on her finger, tomorrow’s headlines being created right now, in the moment.
He didn’t deserve to use her like this. To have her as a buffer between himself and the unflattering headlines about his past behavior. But he didn’t see another choice.
Delicate fingers wrapped around his and she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He pulled her to him, much more gently than he’d done in her room.
“Relax,” he said, his lips near her ear.
He breathed in deep, and her scent teased him. It wasn’t false, or floral. It was the wind. The sea. The grass. Skin. It was Kyonos. It made his stomach tighten, opened up a well of longing, a strange sense of need and homesickness that washed over him like a wave.
This desire for her came from somewhere deep. It didn’t come from looking at her, or even from touching her, it was her very presence. It seemed to be some part of her, some part deep inside, connecting with something in him.
Perhaps it was shared pain meeting a shared goal. Or maybe it was nothing more complex than a bout of celibacy that had gone on for too many months. Either way, it was beginning to feel too strong to fight. He was wondering if there was a reason to bother, anyway.
She was going to be his wife after all.
Not that she had any idea of what that truly meant. Of who he truly was.
“Everyone is staring, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Have you ever worn makeup? Since your attack?”
She frowned. “Once. I tried it once. Not very long after my last surgery. It didn’t really help I... But I thought tonight I should wear some because I needed to dress up and...”
“You look lovely. And I do mean that.”
“They did a better job covering the damage than I ever managed to do.”
“That isn’t the only reason.”
“Let’s not do this mushy, stumbling lying thing now, Xander. You were perfectly honest with me the other day about my looks. So don’t go trying to smooth it all over just because I tried.”
“You are a stubborn woman,” he said. “And I want you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand want? Desire? Do you know what it means to want someone?”
“I...yes. But I don’t need you to lie to me about it.”
“I’m not.” he said, tightening his hold on her, bringing her curves flush against his body. And he let her feel what she was doing to him. He let his cock harden against her and he didn’t bother to suppress his need, his fantasies. He imagined what it would be like to have her bare softness against him, without this damned tux in the way.
What it would be like to make her let go. To make her break out of the little cell she’d locked herself in. The one that meant there was no passion. No desire. Only boring, staid contentment.
He wanted to make her lose herself while he lost himself in her. Because for some reason he felt sure that she was the only one who could make him feel again. The only one who might make a change in him that could last.
The feeling that came with that thought was fleeting, but so intense it nearly buckled his knees. So intense he nearly dragged her from the dance floor and into the nearest dark alcove to make her his without any thought to vows.
But then it cleared. The fire dying down as suddenly as it had flared up.
No, there was no changing him. Not even she could do it. There was no magic to be found on her lips. But there was pleasure. And he was a man who’d spent years consumed by the desire for pleasure.
That was the simple answer to why he felt so drawn to h
er. It wasn’t in his nature to deny himself anything he wanted.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to hold myself back this time. You accused me of lying about wanting you and I thought you should know this time, for yourself, that it’s true.”
She pushed out of his arms and walked away from him, leaving him there in the middle of the dance floor, shocked and hard as hell.
He followed her, through the crowd of people and out onto the balcony. Her shoulders were shaking and guilt stabbed him, low in the gut.
He’d had a lot of bad feelings since returning home. Guilt and regret. He preferred it when his life boiled down to being drunk and horny, but right now he had felt sober, horny and guilty. Which was a combination he wouldn’t wish on anyone.
“What did I do? Did I offend you with my erection? Because you’re going to have to get used to it if you honestly want to marry me.”
She whirled around to face him. “Oh, please. Stop making this about you when it’s clearly about me.”
“I think we both think it’s all only about us.”
“Fine,” she said, tears on her cheeks, “but...this is...why do you want me? Why...I don’t understand this. Any of it.”
“Is that really what upset you?”
“It’s just a lot. A lot to take. Everything has changed in the past week. Everything I’m supposed to want.”
“Do you want me?”
“Xander...”
He walked over to where she was standing and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you want me?”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“But it’s part of marriage.”
“So is love. We barely have like.”
“I’m not big on love,” he said. “Personally, I would rather have want. So if that’s all we have, I’m okay with it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t deal with this just now. Not when everyone is in there and we’re on show. I’ve probably already ruined things by storming out.”
“It’s okay. I might have been a little bit inappropriate. But I’m out of practice when it comes to civilized behavior.”
“You make me...you do make me want things, Xander. Things that I thought I’d let go of. And it scares me. Because in my experience, wanting things is just a long road paved with pain.”
“That’s emotion you’re thinking of. Sex can be a lot more simple. And a lot more fun.”
She laughed, a shaky, watery sound. “Well, I wouldn’t know.”
His gut tightened, blood rushing to his arousal. “I could show you.”
“I don’t understand this. I don’t remember being this tempted by you back when I thought you were a decent human being, so how can I be so drawn to you now?”
“Lust doesn’t have to make sense, Layna.”
“I guess not,” she said, looking at him with a weary expression. “Perhaps that’s why the church has such a firm stance on it. It could potentially get someone into a lot of trouble. Particularly since our bodies seem to be indiscriminate.”
“Is your body being indiscriminate for me?” he asked. So strange how badly he just wanted her to say it. How much he wanted to her to admit, from her prim little mouth, that she wanted him. That she was picturing sweaty, tangled limbs and screams of pleasure.
Yes, screams. He wanted it loud. And he wanted it dirty. He wanted it with a ferocity that shook him to his core.
With a woman who’s most likely a virgin. You truly are a rare breed of ass.
Maybe. Did it matter? He was so past the point of redemption anyway. And she was going to be his wife, surely that made it at least partly okay.
And if not, why should he start caring now?
It was too late for him anyway.
“We should go back inside,” she said.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“And I’m not going to. Here I’ve stormed out of the ballroom and I’m supposed to be making you look stable. So I think it’s time to go back and show solidarity, don’t you?”
He nodded slowly. She really was good at this. He’d all but forgotten the ball happening inside. If she’d let him he probably would have just lifted her dress and taken her here on the balcony with the ocean as the backdrop. And people just inside.
He did a much better job of thinking of his own appetites than he did of thinking of his people.
“Can I do it?” he asked, not sure why the words came out just then.
“Can you do what?”
“This,” he said. Too late to take them back now.
“Will I really be a good king? For some reason, you seem very confident in me when it comes to that part of things. You have no respect for me on a personal level, but you seem very sure that I’ll rule well, why?”
“Because you don’t want it,” she said. “Because there’s nothing easy about it, and the power itself doesn’t seem to appeal to you at all. What better man to rule?”
“Because I don’t want it?”
“Yes. From that I have to assume that your motives are pure.”
“My motives are a lot of things. But I doubt they’re pure. I doubt anything in me is.”
“Are you ready to go back?” she asked.
He was humbled in that moment, by her strength. By the cost of this to her. It was costing him, but what really? His total waste of a life? His meaningless flings with random women? His chance to continue living in different penthouse suites?
It was costing her every shred of pride she had.
He would not let them take it. She was too strong. Standing there with her focus fixed on the ballroom, determined to go back in even though he knew it was difficult for her.
“Yes, agape, let’s go and show them what the future of their country looks like.”
CHAPTER NINE
SHE HONESTLY HAD no idea what her problem was. Why she’d melted down with Xander, why she’d had to run out of the ballroom.
Well, no, she did know why. It was because she had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know how to handle men. Didn’t know how to deal with this desire that was starting to wrap itself around her like a creeping vine.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She was supposed to be...at the very least she was supposed to feel nothing for him. And at most, she’d been willing to allow herself to be angry.
And she was angry. She was angry at him for leaving her. She was angry at life for making her the way that she was.
But in there somewhere, she wanted him, too, and that was the thing she couldn’t quite deal with.
She breathed in the sea air. It was such a relief to be outside. To be on the beach instead of in that ballroom, which, as expansive as it was, had made her feel claustrophobic beyond words.
She’d escaped as soon as she could. Most everyone had gone and she’d made her excuses, as soon as was polite. She was dreading tomorrow’s headlines. Dreading the future. So funny, because she hadn’t thought of the future at all in a long time.
All of her days had been so alike at the convent. Her future had been so certain. So solid. She’d seen her days stretching out before, a calm and endless sea.
But now she was storm-tossed and she had no idea where she would land.
She sat down, not caring that the ground was wet, not caring that there would be sand on her gorgeous black dress. She would hardly be able to wear it again anyway. That was something she remembered from her socialite days. Never wear the same thousand-euro dress twice. Such a sharp contrast to her other life, where she wore the same threadbare shifts until they couldn’t be mended anymore.
She felt like she wasn’t wholly the girl she’d been before, or the woman she’d become, but damned if she had any idea who she really was. And she bl
amed Xander for that feeling.
She’d been fine before he’d walked back into her life. She’d been at peace with her choices. And now he was demanding so much from her. So much more than she ever thought she’d have to give to anyone.
“I thought perhaps I had seen a ghost.” She looked up and saw Xander standing there, his shirt open at the collar, his tie and jacket discarded.
“That’s how I felt the day I saw you at the convent.”
“I’m sure.”
“What are you doing down here?”
“I might ask you the same thing.”
“I am...brooding. I think that’s what this is called.”
He sat down next to her. “I’ll brood with you.”
“Brooding is best done alone.”
“Doesn’t that get tiring, though?”
“What?” she asked.
“Being alone.”
She looked out across the water, at the moon reflecting on the waves. “You’re never alone, though, are you? I mean, you’ve never had to be. You’ve basically been at a giant party for the past few years.”
“I’ve been surrounded by people, yeah. But it’s amazing what a hell that can be.”
“I doubt you’ve spent one night alone when you didn’t want to be alone,” she said, feeling bitter now. Because all she’d had was an endless void of alone. In that huge house without her family, with only a couple of servants to help her with things. Making sure she ate, making sure she didn’t overdose on her pain medication.
Locking up her pain medication. And then, when they’d taken her one bit of solace, they’d felt like her enemies, not her allies. Even though she knew differently now.
Xander truly had no idea how isolating her life had been. How low she’d gone. How dark it had been. Because he’d walked away. Because he hadn’t stayed. When things had gotten hard in his life he’d left her there, but there had been no way for her to unzip her damaged skin and crawl out of her own body. There had been no way to escape her pain.