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Promoted To His Princess (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Royal House of Axios, Book 1)

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by Jackie Ashenden




  In bed with the playboy prince

  For now, or forever?

  Calista is an elite soldier trained to win any battle. But what happens when the fight is within? Resisting the charismatic prince she’s protecting is getting harder by the minute. When his shirt comes off, so do her inhibitions...

  When serious Calista requests one night of ecstatic freedom, Xerxes is more than happy to comply. Ordered by his king and brother to quit his playboy ways, he’ll allow himself this final seduction! Yet their outrageous passion leaves Xerxes wondering if one night is ever going to be enough...

  JACKIE ASHENDEN writes dark, emotional stories, with alpha heroes who’ve just got the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr Jax, two kids and two rats. When she’s not torturing alpha males and their gutsy heroines she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, wasting time on social media or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband. To keep up to date with Jackie’s new releases and other news sign up to her newsletter at jackieashenden.com.

  Also by Jackie Ashenden

  Crowned at the Desert King’s Command

  The Spaniard’s Wedding Revenge

  Shocking Italian Heirs miniseries

  Demanding His Hidden Heir

  Claiming His One-Night Child

  Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

  Promoted to His Princess

  Jackie Ashenden

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  ISBN: 978-1-474-09845-8

  PROMOTED TO HIS PRINCESS

  © 2020 Jackie Ashenden

  Published in Great Britain 2020

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

  By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

  ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Note to Readers

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  For Sparta

  Contents

  Cover

  Back Cover Text

  About the Author

  Booklist

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note to Readers

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  Extract

  About the Publisher

  CHAPTER ONE

  CALISTA KOUROS CONCENTRATED on the slight prickle of her woollen uniform chafing against her wrists, needing something to focus her attention on that wasn’t the half-naked man pacing back and forth across the expanse of the massive living area, a phone jammed to his ear as he argued with someone on the other end.

  The glorious man, who was currently wearing a pair of worn jeans and nothing else, was proportioned very much like the Greek gods his ancestors had no doubt worshipped thousands of years ago.

  Broad, powerful shoulders, muscled chest, six-pack abs, lean hips, long legs. Olive skin and short black hair. A face that was all exquisite angles, sharp, sculpted cheekbones and a high forehead. Straight nose. A beautifully carved mouth that somehow managed to be both hard and sensual at the same time. A deep, rich voice with a faintly rough edge, like black velvet or melted bittersweet chocolate...

  You’re staring at him again.

  Annoyance shot down her spine.

  She should not be staring at him. That was the one thing she shouldn’t be doing. As a palace guard, she was there to protect him, which meant she should be alert for threats, not gawking at his body.

  He’d stopped in the middle of the cavernous room, his back to her, facing the huge plate-glass windows that looked out over the lake on which the royal villa was situated. It was dark outside, the moon glittering on the water.

  His voice rolled over her, sin and smoke. ‘You were expected to be in Axios today. What? Yes, I’m aware you had a council meeting to attend, but I’m afraid that’s not my problem.’ There was a pause. ‘I don’t care. The gowns are here and you were required to attend a fitting.’

  Calista stared at his sleekly muscled back and the magnificent tattoo of a lion that stretched from one powerful shoulder to the other.

  The royal lion of Axios.

  Only one other man in the country was permitted such a tattoo: the king.

  ‘No,’ Prince Xerxes Nikolaides of Axios said tersely. ‘I’m not couriering them to you. The designer needs to be back in Paris by tomorrow, which means she needs to make the final alterations tonight.’

  Calista dragged her gaze from him, fixating on the middle distance instead. But it was difficult and that annoyed her acutely—a problem when one had a volatile temper that needed effort to keep controlled.

  For the past month, ever since she’d been promoted to the prince’s personal guard, she’d been finding it very, very difficult—sometimes next to impossible—not to simply ogle him like a teenager would their favourite pop star.

  It was an issue. Especially when she’d never had this issue with men before.

  She was a soldier, a member of the elite royal guard tasked with ensuring the protection of the king of Axios and his family, a position for which she’d worked very hard. The Axian army included women, but the royal guard didn’t. Or, at least, it hadn’t until she’d been assigned to it a month earlier. />
  She was the first woman to be an active royal guard and she took her position extremely seriously. One day she hoped to be promoted to the king’s personal guard, perhaps even making captain as her father had, but she wouldn’t until she’d made an impression as part of Prince Xerxes’ detail. And she had to make a good impression.

  His official title was Defender of the Throne, a title that all second royal sons were given, and his duties included being the head of the Axian army. Which meant if she was going to be promoted to the king’s guard, she would need his good word.

  Not an impossibility, but it was difficult trying to do her best for a man she personally didn’t think much of.

  Prince Xerxes had not been popular when he’d been appointed, mainly because he’d been disinherited and exiled from Axios by his father, King Xenophon, ten years earlier. The rumours went that it was for cowardice, which was on a par with treason to most Axians, and his behaviour—that of a spoiled, self-centred playboy touring the bedrooms of Europe—certainly didn’t enhance his reputation with the army.

  After the old king had died and his eldest son, Adonis, had succeeded the throne, Adonis had brought Xerxes back to Axios, and, despite strong disagreement from the generals, Adonis had reinstated him, titles and all.

  The army had been openly scathing, but Xerxes’ acceptance of responsibility for his own reputation and the rumours that dogged him, and his determinedly spotless behaviour since returning to Axios, had somehow mitigated the generals’ disapproval. That he had proved to be an excellent strategist, a decisive leader, and possessed of a huge amount of personal charm also helped. He’d endeared himself to the rank and file with his easy camaraderie and his almost perfect recall of their names. He had the ability to make people feel special and somehow the tide of approval had turned in his favour.

  Calista still found him deeply troublesome.

  Despite his charm, she suspected he was a rule-breaker. A secret rebel. There was a casualness and lack of deference to him that offended her rule-following, ordered nature.

  But that wasn’t the worst part.

  The worst part was that somehow, despite her best intentions, she wasn’t immune to his physical beauty or his intense personal charisma, a legendary magnetism that had once brought half the female population of Europe to their knees.

  She hated that. It reminded her that no matter how hard she tried to be like her comrades in arms, to make sure she wasn’t treated differently because she was a woman, there was still some part of her that remained intrinsically female. And that female part of her found him absolutely fascinating.

  She despised that part of herself. Despised it utterly.

  ‘I see.’ The prince’s usually warm voice was distinctly cool. ‘Well, don’t expect me to care if you turn up to our engagement party in a gown that doesn’t fit properly.’

  A small, electric jolt coursed down Calista’s spine. She shouldn’t have been listening to the conversation and was irritated that she was even conscious of it. Then again, the prince didn’t seem to care about the members of his staff, be they civilian or military, listening in on his conversations.

  Even private conversations with his soon-to-be fiancée.

  King Adonis had ordered his brother to marry to safeguard the succession of the Nikolaides royal line, and, though it was well-known that Prince Xerxes wasn’t entirely happy about it, an announcement had been made that the prince would be formally engaged to one of the princesses of one of Europe’s more progressive countries and that an engagement party would be given.

  Hence, presumably, the fitting of dresses. Which his fiancée-to-be would now not be attending.

  Calista didn’t know why that strange little jolt had hit her at the mention of his engagement party. The marriage would certainly be good for the prince. People would be less inclined to gossip about his past if he married and settled down.

  ‘No, and that’s not my problem either,’ Xerxes snapped, and he must have disconnected the call because he tossed the phone down onto one of the low couches that were scattered around the room. He didn’t like living in the palace for some reason, preferring his luxuriously appointed lakeside villa instead, with its couches of butter-soft white leather, and thick pale carpet, white walls and glass and steel furniture.

  It was all very clean and modern, unlike the ancient stones of the palace.

  Calista shifted minutely on her feet. She’d be dismissed for the night soon with any luck, which meant she could go back to the barracks and...

  Her thoughts came to a dead stop, the weight of another person’s gaze settling on her.

  His.

  Instantly she snapped to attention, her chin coming up, her shoulders straightening.

  He’d turned around and was gazing at her, a distinctly speculative look on his impossibly handsome face.

  He had that knack of looking at a person and making them feel as if they were the centre of the universe. As if he saw them.

  Calista didn’t like it. She was just one of his guards; she wasn’t special. She didn’t stand out and she didn’t want to. And besides, she was a firm believer in royalty maintaining their distance, so the prince’s laid-back attitude was another thing she disapproved of.

  Though there was nothing laid-back about him now.

  Deep in his dark eyes, gold flecks gleamed like coins at the bottom of a night-shadowed sea, making her heartbeat accelerate. Then his beautiful mouth quirked, as if he found her amusing in some way, sending a burst of irritation through her; she didn’t appreciate being laughed at.

  She didn’t let it show, though she did click her heels together rather more ostentatiously than she would have normally. ‘Highness,’ she said crisply.

  He smiled and lifted a hand, crooking a finger. ‘Come here, soldier.’

  Calista had been following orders and taking commands her entire life, including many from the prince himself. So obeying this one shouldn’t have made her think twice. Yet, she hesitated for a split-second. His smile was arrogant and that crooked finger annoyed her, plus his bare chest was still irritatingly on show, and he didn’t comport himself the way a prince should.

  All of which shouldn’t have any impact on her ability to obey orders, yet somehow did. Which was wrong. She shouldn’t let her personal opinion of him affect her behaviour as a soldier and especially not compromise her emotional control. And most especially not if she wanted a promotion to the king’s guard.

  Shoving away her irritation and hoping he hadn’t noticed her hesitation, Calista stepped forward from her post by the door. ‘Your Highness.’

  ‘Closer,’ the prince murmured. ‘I’m not going to bite, I promise.’ The gold in his eyes gleamed brighter. ‘Well, at least not very hard.’

  Even though she hadn’t been working for the prince long, she’d learned that the gleam of gold in his eyes, and the slightly edged, amused tone in his beautiful voice, was usually a sign that he was in a temper. And that it was wise not to disobey him when he was in this mood.

  Still, the comment made more irritation prickle over Calista’s skin and she couldn’t think why. It was very strange.

  ‘Highness,’ she repeated, and took another step, coming smartly to attention once again and giving him a steely-eyed stare.

  He stared back a second, then let out an annoyed-sounding breath and strolled up to her. ‘When I said closer, I meant closer.’ His smoky gold gaze looked down into hers. ‘Like so. Are we clear?’

  For a second Calista’s brain blanked. All she could think about was that he was, indeed, very close. Mere inches away. That distracting bare chest, broad and powerful, all smooth olive skin and sharply cut muscle, was right in front of her. Close enough for her to feel his heat, catch his scent, spicy and warm, reminding her of pine forests and sun-drenched earth.

  Are you insane? You’re his guard. You’re not suppo
sed to notice anything but threats.

  The royal guard was largely ceremonial these days, but still. She took her job seriously. She should not be getting distracted by a bare chest, and especially not his bare chest. He was Commander of the Armies, a superior officer. She shouldn’t even be noticing it.

  ‘Yes, Highness,’ she said crisply, with any luck masking the thick note in her voice.

  His gaze narrowed and then, much to her shock, he gave her a very thorough, very deliberate scan from her head to her feet.

  The prickle of irritation became something else, electricity whispering over her skin.

  Slowly, he began to circle her with the same kind of fluid, predatory grace as the lion tattooed on his back.

  ‘Yes,’ he murmured, his deep voice nearly a purr. ‘Yes, I think you’ll do.’

  The strange, electric sensation got worse.

  Calista fought it, putting iron in her backbone and steel in her shoulders the way her father had taught her: lifting her chin high and staring straight ahead; ignoring the way he was looking at her. ‘Excuse me, Highness?’

  He stopped circling, coming to stand in front of her again. A satisfied-looking smile flickered around his mouth. ‘Calista, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘Calista Kouros?’

  Another small shock pulsed through her that he knew who she was, though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He knew the name of every single person who worked for him, plus those of the soldiers under his command. And besides, she was the only female guard on his staff; he would know her name.

  ‘Yes, Highness,’ she said.

  His smile lost its satisfied edge and became warmer, more charming. ‘I need you to do something for me, Calista.’

  It was very strange. The way he said her name made her entire body shiver.

  She ignored that, too. ‘Certainly, Highness.’ She was nearly off-duty, but when royalty commanded, she obeyed. No matter how annoying she found said royalty.

 

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