Marrying Her Royal Enemy

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Marrying Her Royal Enemy Page 15

by Jennifer Hayward


  Her gaze deepened to a sparkling amethyst, more violet than blue. Mouth on hers, he thrust inside her, her hips rising to meet his deep, hard strokes. Sliding his tongue against hers, he made love to her mouth as erotically as he took her body, wanting to blow her mind as much as she unbalanced him, took him apart and put him back together again.

  She started to shake, come apart beneath him, her sensual response taking him apart. Their lips came together in a darkly sensual connection that destroyed his control. Bowing to the demands of his body, he pumped himself inside of her, taking her faster, harder. She convulsed around him, his name on her lips as her silken flesh gripped him, goaded him into a release that shook his body.

  The deep shadows of night swept the bedroom as he curled his wife against him and stroked her silky blond hair. She fell asleep almost instantaneously, the events of the past week having taken a toll, but as exhausted as he was, living on fumes, sleep would not come.

  Moonlight sliced across the room, a triangular patch of light shifting on the stone floor as the minutes slid by. His wife wrapped in his arms, the perfection with which they fit together impossible to ignore, he knew he had crossed a line tonight, a line from which he couldn’t return.

  He wanted everything he’d never had. If there was danger in that leap of faith, if fear fisted his stomach with cold, hard fingers at allowing Stella into a place he’d never allowed anyone, he was willing to risk it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  STELLA WALKED OUT of the executive council meeting with Kostas at her side. It had been the final meeting of the council before the body was dissolved and replaced by members selected from the new legislative assembly chosen in tomorrow’s elections.

  A chance for the current members to earmark issues of importance for the new council to address, it had been a spirited and vocal meeting. Whereas she had sat back and listened in her first meeting, discussing it afterward with Kostas, this time she had spoken up with her ideas about the future, about the injustices Carnelians had suffered and the programs she felt necessary to help them thrive.

  Some of what she said was a clear reprimand to those who had managed such portfolios. It sent a ripple through the male-dominated council, but Kostas had backed her up, agreeing the programs she had proposed were necessary.

  Hand at her elbow, he helped her into the car, then slid in beside her and shut the door. Her mouth curved as she sat back against the seat. “Your chief of security called me a loose cannon.”

  “You are.”

  She flicked him a glance. “Are you angry with me?”

  “Obeying protocol is not one of your strong points, agapi mou. Fortunately,” he drawled, a sensual heat in the gaze he swept over her, “you know how to obey when it counts.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat, her pulse beating a jagged rhythm. He had enjoyed giving her orders when he’d taken her to bed last night. Stark, sexually explicit orders that had made it more exciting than it had ever been before. Caught up in the pleasure he was giving her, she’d obeyed every single one of them.

  With the swiftness of a cat, he caught an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

  “Kostas,” she breathed, “we’re in the car.”

  “Which has blacked-out windows and a privacy screen.” His fingers curved around her neck to bring her mouth down to his. “You in power mode puts me in an indecent frame of mind.”

  His kiss was hard, hot and possessive. She sighed and melted into him, returning the kiss with the responsiveness he demanded. Flicking his tongue over the seam of her lips, he insisted on entry, deepening the kiss with slow, sweet strokes.

  Her fingers curled into his shirt. Every touch, every stroke, every lick, carnal and earthy, pulled her deeper and deeper into the vortex that was Kostas. Somewhere along the way, she realized hazily, her desire to be impenetrable had been exposed as the front it was, for what she really wanted—the love of this man.

  It stole her breath as she broke the kiss and leaned back, studying the harsh set of his jaw, how he was hard lines and strength everywhere except in his eyes at that moment. His feelings for her were written across them. She just had no idea how deep they ran.

  Perhaps he might come to love her in time. Maybe it was possible. Maybe they could learn to do this together. Or maybe she was the biggest fool on the planet for thinking such self-destructive thoughts when he’d clearly warned her off.

  “What?” Kostas smoothed a thumb over her jaw.

  She breathed deep. Attempted to stem the panic crawling up her spine for this wasn’t the only thing she had to face today.

  “Later,” she murmured, sliding off his lap.

  * * *

  When they arrived at the castle, Stella went directly upstairs to her bedroom while Kostas headed to his office to work. The purchase Page had made was tucked away in the drawer as requested. Her heart was a hammer in her chest as she pulled the two pregnancy tests out of the bag. Two—just to make sure—although she already knew the answer.

  Her breasts were tender, her mood even more jumbled this past week, her psyche somehow more fragile. Kostas was so damn virile, she’d expected it, but nothing could really have prepared her for the two plus signs that stared back at her a few moments later.

  An heir for Carnelia. What the country had been waiting for... Head buzzing, she tossed the evidence into the trash can and sat down on the antique stool. It had been the goal, of course, to conceive Kostas’s heir. With Kostas’s approval ratings having risen dramatically since the town hall, it was the last piece of the puzzle to slide into place.

  Her hands clenched so tight she could feel her nails digging into her skin. She knew it was good—wonderful—news. Fear still clamped her chest like a vise. Could she be a good mother after her own childhood? Could she and Kostas give their children the unconditional love and acceptance they’d never had? Ensure they never knew the loneliness and isolation that had marked both their early years? Would her relationship with Kostas continue to flourish so they could be those parents they’d never had?

  She dropped her head into her hands as the room spun around her. Giving that last piece of herself to Kostas, making a leap of faith that he could someday learn to love, meant letting go of the painful experiences that had shaped her life and trusting the future could be different.

  Alex had been right. She’d sabotaged every relationship she’d been in because she’d been afraid of getting hurt. Perhaps it was time to stop letting the past rule her. Hadn’t she preached the same to her husband? Shouldn’t she be brave enough to do it, too? Or was she setting herself up to repeat history in the most painful of ways?

  * * *

  “There is a lieutenant from the navy here to see you, Your Highness.”

  Kostas looked up from the report he’d been scanning. Frowned. The navy was Houlis’s domain. “He’s been screened?”

  “Yes. He said it was a personal matter. He wouldn’t discuss it with me.”

  A personal matter? Curiosity pulled at his insides. “Kala. Send him in.”

  A young man in his late twenties walked in, his short, buzzed haircut instantly marking him military. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Miles Colonomos. Kostas returned his greeting and waved him into the chair opposite his.

  “How can I help you?”

  The lieutenant reached into his pocket and withdrew a box. He set it on the desk and pushed it toward Kostas. “One of my men was doing a routine check on the western perimeter when he found these caught on a rock at the base of the cliffs.”

  Kostas’s heart was a knot in his throat and he didn’t know why. Athamos’s car had gone over the cliffs on the western side of the island, but the crown prince’s car had been the only thing they’d ever been able to find, Athamos’s body swept away by the strong currents.

  He pulled the box toward him and closed his fingers over the cover. Lifting it, he saw two oblong, flat aluminum discs attached to a chain of the same material. His brain flatlined
. Dog tags. The piece of identification pilots wore in case they were lost in combat.

  They all bore a soldier’s first and last names, their social security number, blood type and religion. Came in twos so that one could be removed from a dead man’s body to notify his family of his death should the body need to remain behind.

  The tags in the box were wrong side up. His gaze blurred and his hand trembled as he flipped one over, an unnecessary action because he knew whose they were.

  Athamos Constantinides

  102300

  Blood Type: O

  Religion: Greek Orthodox

  He sat there, motionless, staring at the two pieces of metal, jagged glass lining his throat. “Anything else?” he asked, his voice a sharp rasp. “Did your diver find anything else?”

  The officer shook his head. “The tags must have been ripped from the prince’s body during the fall. They were lodged in a crevice. The only reason we found them was the rock had shifted.”

  He nodded. They had scoured the waters for days, weeks, looking for Athamos’s body to give his family closure, but they’d never been able to provide it. Now, he thought, his gut twisting, they would have it.

  “Efharisto.” Thank you. He nodded at the officer. “Please keep the information to yourself. The family must be notified.”

  The other man nodded and took his leave. Rising from his chair, Kostas walked to the window and attempted to breathe past the tightness in his chest. He couldn’t bring Athamos back, he had accepted that, but giving his dog tags to Stella was something else entirely.

  Spreading his palm wide against the glass, he absorbed the shame that flooded through him. For his recklessness that night. For his weakness in not going to Athamos’s family immediately and telling the story. For thinking he could hide the truth from his wife as to who he was.

  For he had to tell her. This was a sign, a reminder that the last piece of the truth still lay between them. It had been foolish of him to think he could keep it from her, he realized, heart sinking. It would lie there forever, festering, rearing its ugly head whenever his demons got the better of him, and that couldn’t happen, not when he was sure he loved his wife. That he had always loved Stella.

  She had transformed from willful princess to a powerful, empathetic queen in front of his eyes. She had slain every dragon alongside him. Now he had to hope they were strong enough to weather this storm together or he would lose the one woman who meant everything to him.

  * * *

  Stella paced the floor of the conservatory, waiting for Kostas’s meeting to end.

  Takis finally appeared in the doorway after she’d nearly worn out the floor. “His Highness’s guest is gone.”

  “Efharisto.”

  Making her way down the stone corridor that led across the castle to the visitor’s wing, she walked into the king’s offices. Tapping lightly on the door, she opened it at her husband’s command to enter. The minute she looked at Kostas’s face she knew something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

  Her news fell to the wayside as she came to a halt in front of his desk. “What is it?”

  He held out a hand. “Come here.”

  She skirted her way around the desk and slid onto his lap. Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to her palm. “I need to show you something.”

  Her heart was a drumbeat in her throat. “Is it the military?”

  “No. Everything’s fine.”

  Letting go of her hand, he reached for the small, black box sitting on his desk and handed it to her. “A navy diver found this today.”

  “A navy diver?” She frowned. “What is it?”

  “Open the box.”

  The edge to his voice turned her blood to ice. Hands shaking, she opened the box. Knew immediately what was inside because she’d seen Athamos wearing them. Dog tags. Her gaze flew over the two pieces of metal, fingers clenching the box so tight her knuckles went white.

  Athamos. They were Athamos’s dog tags. Her hand flew to her mouth. “You found him?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, agapimeni, we didn’t find him. These must have been torn from him when the car went over the cliff.”

  Her heart convulsed. Picking up the two pieces of metal, she cradled them in her palm. They were cold. Final.

  Heat stung the back of her eyes, the truth washing over her like an undeniable force. This...this was all she was ever going to have of her brother.

  She looked up at her husband. “He’s never coming back.”

  Such dark, dark emotion reflected back at her. “No.”

  Moisture streaked down her cheeks. Kostas rested his chin on her head and held her as she cried, tears soaking his shirt. It seemed as if she cried for a very long time.

  “Thank you,” she murmured when the tears had slowed to a crawl. “At least we have a piece of him. It’s more than we ever thought we’d have.”

  Kostas was silent. The tenseness enveloping him straightened her spine. “What?” she whispered. “What is it?”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Somehow she knew another blow was coming and she wasn’t sure if she could take it.

  His gaze captured hers. “The night Athamos and I raced, I was furious with my father for his behavior, worried about what damage he would do before I could take control, antagonized I could do nothing about it, tortured by the decisions in front of me.

  “Cassandra,” he continued, “is a beautiful woman. Both Athamos and I wanted her. Athamos fell hard, though, harder than I’d ever seen him fall for a woman. He was in love with her, but I knew Cassandra was interested in me, maybe even in love with me. I should have let the two of them be, but my need to blow off some steam, my need to win, was stronger.”

  She pressed a hand to her mouth, bile stinging the back of her throat. “Kostas, no—”

  “Yes.” His voice was a harsh whip against her skin. “You need to know the truth. You need to know all of it.”

  She shoved a hand against his chest, needing him to stop, needing not to hear this right now because everything—everything—depended on them making this marriage work. He held her there, his arm an iron band around her waist.

  “It was a game for me, Stella. To prove I could have her.” His words were like grenades, blowing up in her face. “Athamos had become my friend and yet I didn’t care. I goaded him, ensured he would take the challenge. I was responsible for his death.”

  She put her hands up to shield herself from the blows, from more, but he was done, staring at her with jagged pain in his eyes.

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because keeping this from you would have destroyed me. Because we need to have a future free of the past.”

  “Destroyed you?” She shoved a hand at his chest. This time she caught him unaware and managed to scramble off his lap before he caught her. She stood in front of him, limbs shaking. “You challenged my brother to a race when you knew he was in love with the woman you were playing with. You stole his life from me, Kostas.”

  Naked pain crawled across his face. “Don’t you think I wish I had been the one to have gone over that cliff? Don’t you think this hasn’t nearly driven me mad, Stella? But I can’t do that. I can’t take his place. I can’t bring back the dead. I can only forgive myself as you yourself said and do the best I can to make something out of all of this. Something good.”

  She closed her eyes because rational speech wasn’t penetrating the grief surrounding her. All she could feel was the spear of ice he’d shoved through her heart.

  Kostas walked around the desk, stopping a step away from her. “We have something special, Stella, something rare. We always have. Our marriage was a key alliance, yes, but you know it was because I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.”

  Red rose in front of her eyes. “Wanted?” She spat the word at him. “The game has never ended, has it? It never will. It’s the o
nly thing you know.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not a game. This thing between us is real, you know it is.”

  The pain lancing her heart dug deeper. “I gave you so many opportunities to tell me the truth. I was begging for it and still you said nothing. How can I believe anything you say?”

  “Because I love you.”

  She recoiled, feeling as if she’d been sucker punched. “You don’t know how to love anyone, Kostas. You said so yourself.”

  His gaze was steady. “I do love you. I have always loved you.”

  She shook her head. “You just decimated that.”

  “Stella—”

  Turning on her heel, she flew out of the room and headed for the hallway to the other wing, footsteps echoing a solitary tread on the stone floor.

  Tears rolling down her face, she dashed them away with her fist as she sidestepped a maid and took the stairs to the royal wing. Staff dotted the hallways as they went about their afternoon tasks, so she changed direction and took the back stairwell to the top of the castle. Climbing the extremely old, dank set of stone steps, she emerged on the palace ramparts, a sweeping view of the mountains to her right, the cliffs and coastline to her left.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat on the stone bench, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them as the high sun of midafternoon faded into a dusky pink-and-orange sunset. It was the type the tourists went gaga over, one that would bring them here in droves when Kostas’s developments came to fruition, but it barely penetrated the ice that surrounded her heart.

  There were no more puzzles now, no more mysteries. Her brother, who had never loved easily, had been mad about Cassandra Liatos, and in typical, stubborn Athamos fashion had refused to give up. Perhaps he had known Cassandra was in love with Kostas and pursued her anyway, perhaps he hadn’t. The only thing that was certain was that the two people who could have put a stop to the madness—Cassandra and Kostas—had not.

  She stared out at the foam-capped waves as they crashed against the cliffs where her brother’s car had gone over the edge. It was true, Athamos had also been responsible for his actions that night, but Kostas, however, bore the biggest blame of all because his actions had been premeditated. He had wanted to win and to hell with the consequences.

 

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