by Olivia Gates
The reporters still tried to get him to say more, their voices rising with dozens of queries.
Leonid chose to answer one. “I do believe my daughters, Eva and Zoya, represent new life for our kingdom. They are literally that for me.”
Brooking no further interruptions, he strode ahead and even the most dogged reporters parted before him as if unable to stand being in the path of his power.
Within minutes, they were seated inside a gleaming black stretch limo with the Zoryan flag flapping at the front.
She sat beside Leonid with the girls in their car seats facing them and Despina beside them. Leonid focused almost exclusively on the girls all the way to the palace, pointing out landmarks on the way and explaining their significance and history, with the girls appearing to take absolute interest in everything he brought to their attention and gleefully repeating the words he emphasized. Kassandra just kept telling herself to stick to her decision not to analyze his behavior, to stop thinking altogether.
Then they entered the palace complex grounds and all thought became impossible as she plunged ever deeper into the unreality of it all.
She’d been to the world’s grandest palaces, as a tourist. Entering this place as a future resident, if things went according to Leonid’s plan, was something else altogether. With the massive grounds populated by only those who worked there, it felt totally different from all the other palaces that had been crawling with visitors.
“This place was first laid out on the orders of Esfir the First, Zorya’s founder and first queen.” Her gaze swung to Leonid, and he gestured to her to look back at their surroundings as he continued narrating its history. “Her name, the Russian variant of Esther, also means star. This complex of palaces and gardens are sometimes referred to as the Zoryan Versailles. The central palace ensemble had been recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since the fall of the Soviet Union and its return to the Zoryan state.”
As she took in the information, he pointed toward another landmark. “The dominant natural feature is this sixteen-meter-high bluff lying less than a hundred meters from the shore of the Sea of Azov, which is part of the Black Sea. The Lower Gardens, or Nizhny Sad, encompassing over a square kilometer, are confined between this bluff and the shore. The majority of the complex’s fountains are there, as are several small palaces and outbuildings. Atop the bluff, near the middle of the Lower Gardens, stands the Grand Palace, or Bolshoi Dvorets, where the monarch historically resided...which I’m now repairing and renovating, so I hope you’ll excuse any mess. Ah, here is one of my favorite features of the place...”
Kassandra’s head swung to where he was pointing, the most glorious cascade and fountain she’d ever seen, situated right on the bluff’s face below the body of a palace so grand it looked right out of a fairy tale.
“That’s the Grand Cascade, or Bolshoi Kaskad, with the Grand Palace forming the centerpiece of the entire complex, and it’s one of the most extensive waterworks of the Baroque period.”
Leonid kept explaining and describing what they were passing through, with all of them, including the girls, hanging on his every word. Apart from realizing he was telling them important things he wanted them to learn, the girls, like every other living being, she suspected, just loved listening to his voice and were hypnotized by the way he spoke.
The hypnosis only deepened as Leonid took them inside what he kept referring to as their “new home.”
In her jumbled state, Kassandra’s mind couldn’t assimilate the details her eyes were registering, just the major strokes. From beneath the scaffoldings of in-progress renovations clearly close to being finished, she could see an entrance, staggering in size and grandeur, under hundred-foot, painted dome ceilings, halls with soaring arches with dozens of paintings depicting naval battles, atmospheric landscapes and royal ancestry, and chambers displaying countless ethnic influences in their art and decor.
What made her focus sharpen were an inner garden and pool that, while they had elements of the rest of the place, were evidently new, and the most incredible parts of the palace to her. Somehow she had no doubt they were Leonid’s idea and taste.
Throughout the tour, the girls, who’d never been in an edifice of that size, ran around squealing and pointing out their discoveries to interrogate Leonid about before another thing distracted them.
“And here are your quarters, for now.”
They entered through white-painted, gold-paneled double doors to the most exquisite, expansive living area she’d ever seen. Though the dimensions and architecture echoed the rest of the palace, the furnishings and decor were more modern, comfort inducing and closely resembling the style and color scheme of her own living room in LA. And it was also outfitted and proofed for toddlers, clearly with Eva and Zoya in mind.
She wouldn’t even ask how and when he’d had such personalized furnishings installed. He was powerful and rich enough he could have anything realized as soon as he thought of it.
But one thing didn’t make sense. “For now?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “This is my effort at anticipating your needs and preferences. But you may decide you’d prefer some other place in the palace, or want something built on the grounds from scratch to your demands. So this will do until then.”
“You can’t seriously think I wouldn’t find this perfect? It’s actually...too much. This living room is as big as my whole place, which is big to start with. And I see glimpses of more tennis court–size rooms beyond.”
He shrugged dismissively. “Everything is built on a grand scale in Zorya, even peasant’s houses. You’ll get used to it.”
Will I? Will I also get used to you blowing searing then arctic, to never knowing where I really stand with you?
She only tossed her head toward Despina and the girls, who were rushing about exclaiming at all the delights he’d layered the place with. “Even if this magnificent place for some inexplicable reason didn’t suit my taste, the girls and their nanny have given it their fervent seal of approval.”
His lips twisted fondly before his eyes returned to hers earnestly. “I hope I thought of everything you might need, but you already met Fedor and Anya during our tour, my valet and his wife. Anya will be at your service for any domestic needs, and Fedor for anything else. Always call me first, with anything serious, even if I’m occupied with state emergencies. But Anya and Fedor are always ready for immediate and trivial matters.” She nodded and he walked away. Midway to the door, he turned again. “You promise you will call me if you need anything?”
Heart expanding at his solicitude, shriveling at his withdrawal, she knew he’d wait until she said, “I promise.”
Once he was gone, she rushed to the nearest bathroom and locked herself in. And let the tears flow. For she’d just promised she’d call him if she needed anything.
Anything but him. When he was all she needed.
Eight
Leonid stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He looked like hell. Much like he had in those days after he’d sent Kassandra away. He’d been keeping her away since they’d come to Zvaria three days ago. Every hour, every minute, every second had been sheer torture. Total chaos.
Every moment had been dedicated to concocting legitimate ways to escape being alone with her, so he wouldn’t be forced to clarify his position. It had been getting progressively harder, with him perpetually on the precipice of doing something totally insane or irrevocably damaging. Or both. Like taking her against the nearest vertical surface, as he’d done back on the jet.
And he’d run out of excuses, could no longer run from a confrontation. Doing so could cause the very damage he’d been trying to avoid.
So he hadn’t disappeared after they’d put the twins to bed. He was sure she would come after him. He could feel her drawing nearer, his every ce
ll rioting with her proximity.
And he had no idea about what to say or do. None.
Severing the visual clash with his own bloodshot eyes, he stiffly moved away from the mirror, shuffled back to his reception area and sank down on an armchair facing the door. Counted down the heartbeats that would bring her to him with an infallible certainty. The soft knock on the door came as his countdown ran out. Though expected, it still juddered through him. His nerves were shot, his resistance depleted. At any point in this encounter, if she touched him, he would devour her.
Unable to rise again, he called out thickly, “Come in.”
She’d realize he knew it was her. Who else would his guards allow to walk up to his quarters at this hour, or at all?
Bracing himself, his nerves still fired in unison when he saw her. That magnificent creature that had occupied his every waking and sleeping thought since he’d first laid eyes on her. In that deep burgundy floor-length dress she’d worn earlier tonight for dinner, which accentuated her complexion and curves. With her thousand-shade golden waterfall of silk and green-meadow eyes, she looked as magical as always. And as haggard as he did.
Without closing the door behind her, she approached, her gaze stripping away what was left of his tatters of control.
Thankfully, she didn’t come close enough to test his nonexistent resolve. She started without preamble.
“I could pretend I didn’t still want you when I was angry with you, when I was afraid of you. But even before I quit being either, I admitted it to myself first, then to you on that jet. I do want you, more than ever.”
He stared at her. He’d expected outrage, scolding, blame, anything but this confession.
She went on, “I know we agreed on a plan, and I haven’t changed my mind about it. You tell everyone whatever would be best for you, the girls and your kingdom, and I’ll back it up. I know you’d prefer to be together only for the girls, and I realize you haven’t said a word about what happened between us on the jet because you’re uncertain how to handle it. But I’m here to tell you that you don’t need to overthink it or feel anxious about it. If your response to me wasn’t just a random male one, if you want me, I am asking you not to hold back out of worry for your other considerations. Let’s have this. Let’s be together. No strings, no expectations. Just like in the past.”
Then she fell silent, the brittle hope in her gaze shattering what remained of his sanity, and his heart. He struggled to force himself to remain still, expressionless, but inside him, a hurricane raged.
How was it possible she could offer him this? Not knowing his reasons for taking everything she had, in the past and recently, then throwing it in her face, she would be a masochist, a victim, to offer him a second, and now a third chance. Which she wasn’t.
So did she want him so much that she was convincing herself his reasons were justifiable? Or was it even worse? Did she love him? In the past, and still now? Was she, after this magical trip to Zorya, and their explosive episode of passion, ready to expose herself to further injury for the chance of resurrecting something she shouldn’t believe had ever been real?
It overwhelmed him, agonized him, that her feelings for him could be so fierce and profound they’d survived his humiliation, his desertion. When he had to let her down, again. And for the last time.
Even though it would leave him bloodied and extinguished.
But he was still unable to rebuff her, hurt her like that again. He had to try to soften the blow any way he could.
Feeling he’d be cutting off a vital part of himself with a jagged blade all over again, he started, “I doesn’t matter what I want...”
Her stepping closer stopped him, and her tremulous objection twisted the knife hacking his guts. “It’s all that matters. This isn’t the past. Things have changed. You have. I have, too, along with things between us and everything else. We should be together for the sole reason that we want each other.”
Feeling he was drowning, a breath away from heaving up and crushing her in his arms, begging for anything for as long as she would give it, come what may, he shook his head.
“You’re right, this isn’t the past. It’s far worse. In the past, when I messed up, I hurt only you. Not that that was any less significant, or any more forgivable, but it remains a fact the damages I caused were limited to you. You’ve contained any repercussions for the twins so far with your strength and resourcefulness, aided by their young age. But now the situation is exceedingly more complicated. Personal considerations are the last thing to feature in my worries, and any damages would ripple out into widespread destruction.”
Another urgent step brought her closer, her incredible beauty alight with passion. “That’s what I meant by no expectations. There would be no repercussions to your kingdom or your relationship with the girls no matter what happens between us.”
Destroyed by her offer of carte blanche, hating himself and the whole world even more for being forced to do this, her next words cleaved the remaining tatters keeping his heart in place.
“I’ve been thinking back to the time of your accident. Just before it happened, I was starting to feel restless. You were right when you thought I wanted to change the rules of our liaison. Though it wasn’t premeditated, as you had believed. And contrary to what you thought, I wanted to negotiate, not for strings, but for more freedom. Our secrecy imposed too many barriers and limitations, and I wanted to be free of those, not to suggest different shackles. But when I saw your crumpled car, I knew then I only wanted you alive and well. That if I could only have you again, any way at all, I’d never want anything more. That feeling came back to me on the way here, made me face that I prefer the way it ended a million times to having it end...that way. And now I can’t bear the possibility of missing out on being with you because I didn’t let you know how I feel.”
He looked away, unable to bear her baring everything inside her to him like that. He wasn’t worthy of her courage and generosity, deserved none of her pure and magnificent emotions.
But escaping her gaze only brought her closer, until she touched him. Burned him to the marrow with one gentle, trembling caress on his shoulder.
“All that time, after you said you didn’t want me anymore, what hurt most was the confusion, the disbelief. I couldn’t imagine that what I felt from you, and so powerfully, didn’t exist. Now everything inside me tells me what I felt from you back on the jet wasn’t just sex. So please, Leonid...” Her cold, trembling hand cupped his jaw. It clenched so hard he was worried he’d grind his teeth to dust. “Tell me the truth. If you tell me you don’t want me now, I’ll walk away and this time I’ll keep my distance and will never bring it up again. Just tell me, and I promise you, it won’t change anything for you.”
Tell her you don’t want her. Set her free.
But he couldn’t look at her and tell another such terrible lie. He couldn’t watch the last embers go out in her eyes, and be replaced by the darkness of his final letdown.
Unable to breathe, praying he’d suffocate, cease to exist, he escaped the brutality of her gossamer touch, pitched forward, elbows crashing on his knees and head in his hands.
“Was this my mistake, then and now? Showing you how I feel? Was that what put you off?” And there they were. The tears she’d been holding at bay, soaking her voice as she entreated him one last time. “Leonid?”
He shook his head. Shook, period.
She made no sound, no gasp or whimper or sob. Even her steps were soundless. Yet her anguish as she silently left him was deafening, almost rupturing his head.
He’d hurt her irreparably and unforgivably again.
But now more than ever, now that he knew the sheer extent of her emotions, he knew he’d made the right decision. In the past and now. It was better to push her away, have her hate him, hurt her temporarily...than to do so permanently.
* * *
Kassandra walked through the majestic halls and corridors of the palace, afraid she’d scatter apart if she went any faster.
But she had to hold it together until she reached her quarters. Apart from the eyes that she felt were looking at her disapprovingly and pityingly from those lofty portraits, other hidden ones were monitoring her progress. Leonid’s invisible security detail.
Not that they should be worried about him. Their future king was impervious. And lethal. As he should be, as he’d just explained he had to be, to be king.
The distance to her quarters seemed to have doubled. And they weren’t her quarters. They were just the place Leonid had exiled her to across the massive palace. Now she knew beyond a doubt why. She had known since the first night he’d avoided her, but just had to make him stab any hope she’d been wrong to death.
Not that she could blame him this time. She’d taken a gamble that there was something between them, something old to resurrect or new to nurture, and she’d lost. She’d thought the slightest possibility she was right had been worth any price she’d have to pay if she turned out to be totally wrong. As she had been.
Leonid didn’t want her. That incendiary encounter had been an unspecific response of an overendowed male to a female in heat. And he was clearly disgusted with himself for succumbing to a base urge he feared would jeopardize his priorities: his relationship with the girls, and his position as a king reestablishing a struggling monarchy.
And though it devastated her that she wasn’t one of the things he cared about, she understood. He couldn’t help how he felt, and how she felt wasn’t his problem. He owed her nothing, but owed the girls and his kingdom everything.