His sneer was mortifying. That humiliating blush burned again. She hadn’t meant it about the chains, yet here he was implying that she was doing this only to...to flirt? She never flirted.
What was wrong with her? This man made all the rules—he owned the nation...his face was on the currency—and she was snapping at him like some schoolgirl with an immature crush.
‘Of course not.’ She avoided his eyes and muttered contritely, ‘I’ll just get my bag and then we can leave.’
She was startled when he kept pace with her as she went into the small office.
‘Why are you following me?’
‘I’m not giving you a chance to hide anything or any time alone to contact him.’
Contact who? She stared at him uncomprehendingly.
‘Just get your things,’ he muttered.
It finally dawned on her that this had to be a case of mistaken identity—he’d confused her with someone else and there was nothing she could help him with. She was nobody. She did nothing but work at the hospital and then go home to read up about more work. But she’d go with his assistant now and they’d soon realise she wasn’t the person the King sought. Then they’d bring her back here and all would be forgotten.
Reassured by this reasoning, Kassie grabbed her satchel and slung the strap over her shoulder.
She almost had to run to keep pace with him moving through the hospital. He’d lost patience and wasn’t slow. She stepped into the sleek black car idling right outside the back entrance. To her surprise King Giorgos walked around and got into the seat on the other side.
‘I thought I was going with your assistant?’ she said. She’d been looking forward to a quick resolution.
He directed a quelling look at her as the car glided off, taking them away. ‘Do you ever stop questioning?’
‘Not when there’s this much to be questioned. Where are you taking me? And why?’
‘I’m the one who has the questions, Ms Marron.’
The edge in his tone forced her to regard him directly. Something lurked in the back of his eyes—a streak of wildness that surprised her.
But it wasn’t entirely a surprise. From what she’d seen of him at a distance—in the news and on the television—King Giorgos had always appeared to her like a wild man forced into refined clothes. It wasn’t that he wasn’t civilised—of course he was—but it was as if he might break free from the polished uniform at any moment. He was too elemental to be contained.
Idiot.
She scoffed at her wayward thinking. She was just unused to a man his size. He was taller than average, with a powerful set to his extremely broad shoulders. Lean and muscled, his physique and demeanour were imposing. And this close she could see his hair was a little bit too long, and a faint edge of stubble showed on his jaw, adding to the impression of edginess—of a man chafing at his constraints. And right now he was clearly inwardly struggling to contain a fierce emotion.
But the thought that King Giorgos might be struggling with latent rebelliousness was pure imagination. This was King Giorgos. The man had been King since his late teens—earnest and capable beyond his years. Yet suddenly all she could do was think about that streak of wildness and the size of his muscular thighs and the promise of physical power...
What was wrong with her? She swallowed, but it didn’t ease the dryness in her throat.
She realised that he was silently scrutinising her as much as she was him. But he had that hostility in his eyes again, and a moody set to his jaw. His whole positioning was tense. Something was off. Something was wrong. And she had no idea how she was supposed to help.
‘Is it Princess Eleni?’ she asked softly.
He sat very still. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘She missed her visit today. She never misses her visits.’
He watched her...waiting. Something swirled in the atmosphere between them. The luxurious car suddenly felt cramped—as if she were too close to him, as if he could see into her mind. She felt compelled to fill the silence—anything to deflect this pull she felt, pushing her nearer to him.
‘She was unwell last week,’ she added, licking her dry lips.
‘Unwell in what way?’
Foreboding slithered down her spine at the ice in his voice.
‘She was dizzy. She said she’d had a bug recently.’ She frowned as she swallowed again. ‘Is she okay?’
If she wasn’t then the King ought to be summoning a doctor, not a physiotherapist.
‘Did anyone else notice that she was unwell?’ he asked. ‘Did anyone ask about her?’
Kassie shook her head—then froze. Damon, her half-brother, had appeared just after the Princess had walked away. He’d asked her who she’d been talking to. Now she thought about it, Damon had been too curious—and stunned when he’d learned the Princess’s identity. Why had he been so surprised?
‘Ms Marron?’ the King prompted.
Chills whipped across her skin, chafing where heat had burned only moments ago. Perhaps this wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps there was something very wrong. She barely knew her half-brother, Damon, but she wasn’t about to throw him under a bus. Not until she understood exactly what was going on.
King Giorgos’s expression hardened as she remained silent. He knew she was holding something back. How did he know that?
‘You attended a ball at the palace a few weeks ago,’ he said coldly.
‘Yes.’ There was no point in lying—but she didn’t need to offer any more information than necessary, right?
‘Why?’
Her heart thumped. ‘It was for charity. For the hospital.’
‘But you didn’t go with the hospital staff. You attended as the guest of someone else.’
She hadn’t been one of the lucky staff to win a lottery invitation, but Damon had taken her—the only thing she’d let herself take from the half-brother she’d met only a few months before. Damon had seemed preoccupied when they’d left the ball, but she’d been too deep in thought herself to notice much; she didn’t really know him well enough to ask if he was okay. She should have asked.
But then Damon had asked that random question—more than once. ‘Did you see that woman in the blue wig and black mask? Do you know who she is?’
Kassie hadn’t even seen who he’d meant—there’d been plenty of women in wigs...it had been a masquerade ball, after all. It could have been anyone, right? But not Princess Eleni. Everyone knew that the Princess hadn’t attended the ball that night because she’d been unwell with a migraine.
But once more Kassie remembered the look of utter astonishment on Damon’s face when he’d learned that Princess Eleni was the visitor he’d overheard at the hospital that day a few weeks later.
‘You see my sister every week. I hear she likes to talk to you?’
She hadn’t answered King Giorgos’s earlier question. She realised now he hadn’t needed her to because he already knew. Just as he already knew the answer to this question too.
‘I take her on her tour of the ward, yes.’
‘And when she was unwell last week...?’
‘She didn’t stay. No one else was aware she was unwell.’ None of the other staff, nor the other patients.
‘No one?’ he pressed, astute and seeking. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
She panicked, desperate to deflect his questioning. ‘Your sister might put up with your bullying, but I’m not going to.’
He stiffened. ‘That’s what she told you? That I bully her?’
She couldn’t hold his scorching gaze, and was unable to lie. ‘No. I never spoke with her about anything personal. She never mentioned you.’
Her foolish eyes had minds of their own and they couldn’t resist looking into his again. He kept watching her, and suddenly nothing else seemed to register or matter. Not
hing but this moment in which the world tilted, shifting something within her. Something deep and profound and frightening.
She forced herself to glance away, but he reached out and touched her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. There was no veil over his expression now. He was lethally, icily angry.
‘Tell me everything you know,’ he ordered.
‘Or what?’ That deep curl of fear forced the defiance from her—a primitive instinct to hold him at bay even though she knew it was rude, perhaps wrong. ‘You’re going to torture me?’
‘It’s a tempting thought,’ he muttered. ‘And you seem to like the idea of chains. But I can think of a better way to extract the information I need.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘A more fitting way.’
She couldn’t breathe. His words—his promise—sucked all the air from her lungs.
The opening of the car door startled her. Only then did she realise that they were inside the palace grounds. The large iron gates had automatically closed behind them. Locking her in.
‘Come into my palace,’ he demanded, curtly exiting the car to stalk ahead of her.
‘Said the spider to the fly...’ she muttered beneath her breath in annoyance at his peremptory tone and total lack of manners.
He stopped walking and spun so quickly she almost bumped into him from behind. Damn, it seemed the man had supersonic hearing.
‘You think I’m going to make you my prisoner?’ he asked, so softly that all illusions of her personal safety were shattered.
King Giorgos was pure predator and she’d never felt in so much danger. Nor had she ever felt such primitive exhilaration.
Suddenly she wanted to sprint from him. Instead, as always, she froze.
‘You think I’m going to eat you?’ he added with the slightest huskiness.
It wasn’t the sexual innuendo that shocked her but her sudden sensual response to it. Another of those incredible flushes burned her at the blatant carnality of his taunt.
‘I think I’m right to be wary.’ She pushed the words past the croak in her throat.
‘Because you’re guilty as sin?’
Kassie squared her shoulders and made herself look directly into his shadowed, judging eyes. ‘What exactly is it you think I’m guilty of?’
CHAPTER TWO
RIGHT NOW GIORGOS could believe her guilty of nothing. And everything.
Kassiani Marron wasn’t what he’d expected—she was much, much more. More beautiful than the pictures from the ball—impossible as he’d thought that could be, especially considering she was wearing the most horrendous uniform he’d had the misfortune to clap his eyes on. And in his decade as King he’d seen a million uniforms.
This was a drab, shapeless tunic with a high collar that revealed no skin whatsoever, paired with black trousers and utilitarian shoes. Her stunning hair was swept back into a neat braid and she’d not applied any make-up to accentuate those thick curling eyelashes framing her enchanting deep brown eyes. Nor had she bothered to rub any gloss on her full, kissable pout.
Because she didn’t need to.
Because despite this apparent lack of artifice, and despite the dullness of her attire, she’d easily capture the attention of any red-blooded man in her vicinity.
Frustration bit hard, forcing him to grit his teeth. He was hardly about to demand that she strip. Because wasn’t that what she wanted? Wasn’t she playing her part in a honey trap? Wasn’t the sexual undertone to every word spoken between them part of her plan?
He’d watched her shoot down that doctor who’d asked her on a date with the coolness of an ice queen. The poor guy had been so transfixed by her he hadn’t even noticed his King standing at a little distance just behind her. He could understand the man’s focus. She made it impossible to pay attention to anything else when she was in the room, with the dazed sensuality of her wide-eyed gaze and parted-lips pout. It was a wonder there hadn’t been any medical malpractice cases at the hospital.
So he’d keep the lights on low and not let himself be blinded by her exquisite features. He needed information from her—that was all. He refused to be taken in by her manipulative flirtation or her challenges.
He led her down the darkened corridors, not taking her to the formal meeting room as he’d planned. He needed more privacy than that, and he needed the control he felt in his personal quarters. He had years of self-imposed restraint behind him—this meeting with her would be entirely manageable.
‘Are you taking me to the dungeons?’
And there it was—another sultry challenge to his control. Her breathy voice prodded his simmering anger. She had no reason to defy him if she wasn’t guilty. Her attempt wasn’t going to work the way she wanted it to.
‘As I have already said,’ he answered softly, ‘I’ll use whatever methods are required to extract all information.’
He felt her slight misstep, as if she were shocked. As if she were afraid he really was going to take her to a torture chamber. Another ripple of awareness swept over him and he gritted his teeth harder. Oh, she was so very skilled, with those sensual words and those eyes, while somehow sending a blush of innocence and naivety sweeping over every inch of her luminous skin.
He stepped aside for her to enter his suite ahead of him. He watched her glance about the dimly lit room, her mouth held firm, her shoulders tense as she looked everywhere but at him.
Irritated that he ached for her attention, he snapped his first question. ‘You went with Damon Gale to the ball. Why?’
She turned to stare at him briefly.
‘Just answer,’ he growled. He had no patience left for her games.
She glanced at the dark-toned painting hanging on the wall rather than addressing him directly. ‘He introduced me to a couple of medical technology investors and a robotics researcher.’
Giorgos frowned. So it had been a business meeting? He didn’t think so. ‘And to return the favour that night you introduced him to Eleni?’
Wariness bloomed in her eyes. ‘Princess Eleni wasn’t there.’
‘She was—and you introduced them.’
Kassiani shook her head. ‘She wasn’t there. I didn’t see her.’ She puffed out a breath. ‘I heard that she was unwell—that’s why she wasn’t at the ball. And I never would have presumed to speak with her even if she had been. She’s the Princess.’
Giorgos paused. Veracity rang clear in her voice like the echo of a pure bell.
Disconcerted, he chose another angle. ‘But you told Damon when he could find Eleni at the hospital?’
Damon had returned to Palisades for a number of short visits since the ball. And he’d been to the hospital each time. She flushed and her gaze dropped. She couldn’t deny that.
Rage gripped him and he tensed, holding himself back from shaking her. ‘You told him. And then he took her.’
Her jaw dropped and she lifted her long lashes, turning a stunned look upon him. ‘Took her?’
‘Where?’ He stepped closer, no longer caring about protocol and personal space and not buying into her plan. ‘Where did he take her?’
‘Eleni’s missing?’
‘Don’t act as if you don’t know.’ He grabbed her upper arms, unable to hold back a second longer. He needed her to realise how serious this was.
Needed to feel her skin.
It was soft and silky and instantly he wanted to touch more.
‘What was the plan?’ he asked harshly, restraining his wayward thoughts. ‘We know they’ve gone on his boat. Where is it going? Where is he taking her?’
‘What do you mean, they’ve gone on his boat?’
Kassiani’s soulful eyes were wide and her kissable lips parted in surprise.
‘Are you saying Eleni isn’t here?’
‘Tell me everything,’ he growled, somehow pulling her closer still.
‘I don
’t know anything.’
Frustration bubbled over. How did she dare to be so heartbreakingly beautiful as she looked up at him with those passionate eyes and lied to him? How could she have the face of an angel but the soul of a liar and a cheat? How could she manipulate her sensuality to ensnare her victims?
‘Sleep with lots of the surgeons, do you?’ he snarled at her.
She flinched, but kept her gaze trained on him. He stilled, watching anger supersede that other undefined emotion in her molten brown eyes.
‘You have no right to question me about my personal life,’ she said with cool dignity. ‘That’s harassment. Whatever your problem is, it has nothing to do with me.’
‘Doesn’t it?’ He had the feeling it had everything to do with her.
But she was right. He shouldn’t have asked her that. He wanted to cut out his tongue for that stupid lapse in control. Wasn’t it exactly what she’d been pushing him to with her mention of chains and dungeons and torture? Wasn’t this underlying sexual element to their conversation exactly what she’d planned?
He’d fallen into her trap.
He released her instantly. He shouldn’t have crossed that boundary. He always kept his distance and discretion, never mixing women into his public life. At least not since he’d been crowned and had determined to prove himself to those disapproving courtiers who’d blamed him—rightly—for his father’s premature death.
But he’d been off balance from the moment he’d seen her image on that screen. He was thunderingly furious—how could he have got so distracted? His sister was alone out there—pregnant—and yet he couldn’t concentrate on finding her because all he could think about was how stunning this woman was. All he felt was this appalling urge to touch Kassiani more. To wreak his revenge—and bury his guilt—in the most pleasurable of ways. To have her surrender everything to him—her information and then her body.
He jerked back, releasing her to reassert his teetering self-control. Clearly it had been too long since his last affair.
‘Tell me about the night of the ball.’
Her tongue touched her pillowy lips. Giorgos turned completely away, unable to bear looking at her a second longer. He ran his hand through his hair as a hot wave of anger engulfed him. Determined to dispel the claustrophobic feeling, he jerkily stripped out of his suit jacket and wrenched off his tie. He saw her gaze follow the ribbon of silk as he threw it across the room to a low chair.
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