She clenched her hands at her sides, her gaze fixed on his. “You are going to regret this.”
An amused glimmer filled his eyes. “Really? Do tell. My guess from the way you’ve been eyeing the king is that you’re an ex-lover. A jilted one, perhaps... You don’t seem—how should I put it?—off your rocker, so I’m assuming you’ve come with some misguided belief he’ll take a lover. I hate to break it to you, but he’s madly in love with his wife. It isn’t going to happen.”
A jilted lover? She gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve seen the women who throw themselves at the king. They crash parties to meet him. They go to ridiculous lengths to get his attention. So even though you,” he said, stripping the clothes from her with a look that singed her skin, “are undoubtedly every man’s type, this was a wasted escapade.”
Fury swelled up inside her. “I came tonight because I need to speak to the king about a personal matter. Just like I said earlier.”
“Why do it under false pretenses?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“That’s my business.”
“I’m afraid it’s mine if you don’t want me to have you handcuffed and hauled out of here right now.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Her heart surged painfully against her chest. Pressing her hands to her face, she paced to the other side of the terrace. “I can’t tell you why. I admit my methods for getting here were unconventional, but they were necessary given the security surrounding the king. I would never have gotten an audience.”
“That security is in place for a good reason.”
“Yes,” she said, turning around. “It is.” She took a deep breath. Fixed him with an imploring look. “I promise you it’s imperative I speak to the king. In fact, if you would just take me to him right now, I would highly appreciate it.”
“Not happening until you tell me who you are and what your business is.”
“I can’t.”
“Kala.” He spun on his heel and stalked toward the door.
“Aristos, stop.”
He turned around. “No one knows this,” she said. “You can’t say anything to anyone.”
“Spit it out,” he growled.
She lifted her chin. “My name is Aleksandra Dimitriou. The king is my half brother.”
ARISTOS’S MOUTH WENT SLACK. Nikandros’s half sister. He couldn’t have heard her correctly.
“Can you please,” he said deliberately, “repeat that?”
Aleksandra, if that was even her right name, rubbed a hand against her temple. “My mother, Melaina, was Queen Amara’s lady-in-waiting. She had an affair with King Gregorios during her tenure at the palace. The queen knew about her husband’s indiscretions, but when she discovered the affair with my mother, it was one step too far. She fired her. No one knew my mother was pregnant. She went home to her village and raised me by herself.”
He blinked. “Why keep it a secret? By Akathinian law, you would have been a royal.”
“My mother knew I would be taken away from her if anyone found out. She didn’t want that life for me. She told everyone, including me, that my father was an Akathinian businessman she’d met while she worked at the palace who was killed in a car accident before I was born. It wasn’t until the king had his heart attack that I learned the truth.”
Thee mou. His head spun. The queen’s lady-in-waiting. The ultimate betrayal.
It was well-known that King Gregorios had indulged in countless affairs. But a child kept secret this long? Born to the queen’s most trusted aide? If true, it was a scandal that would put all before it to shame.
He scrutinized the woman in front of him. Was she telling the truth? Her skin was pale beneath her olive-toned complexion, the vulnerability that emanated from her a quality he didn’t think could be manufactured. Nor did he think she was a threat to anyone. She was not a practiced liar, that was clear. But he had learned long ago never to trust first impressions. Particularly when it came to a woman—the most deceptive creature on the face of the earth. One who wanted an audience with the king.
It hit him then, that same feeling of familiarity he’d experienced from the first moment he’d seen her. Those eyes... That particular shade of blue belonged to only one bloodline he knew. They were Constantinides blue. It was like looking at Nikandros and Stella.
His blood ran cold. She was telling the truth.
Aleksandra pressed her lips together. “I told you you were going to regret doing that.”
He closed his eyes. For once in his life, he did. He and the king had just gotten their relationship on a solid footing after an adversarial start. This he didn’t need.
“Just because you have the Constantinides eyes, as rare as they are, doesn’t mean your story is true,” he said roughly. “It will need to be verified, as I’m sure you will appreciate. You can understand my suspicions.”
Her eyes flashed. “Your suspicions, yes, but not your tactics.”
“Like I said, it took two to make that kiss.”
That shut her up. He paced to the edge of the terrace, his brain working furiously. They were smack in the middle of a royal function with every paparazzo camera, gossip and royal watcher in the country in their midst. This could not get out before it was verified and the ramifications considered. But that was the king’s job—not his.
He closed the distance between them. “What were your intentions coming here tonight? What do you want from the king?”
“I want to see my father. Talk to him. That’s all.”
He studied her for a long moment. Cursed under his breath and pulled his mobile phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. A phone call to the man in charge of security brought a detail in a dark suit out to the terrace.
“This is how this is going to go,” he said to Aleksandra. “You are going to stay here with him. You do not move from here, you do not talk to anyone and if you do, he will restrain you. Understood?”
Her eyes widened, skin paling. “Yes.”
She looked as if a good gust of wind might blow her over. Intensely vulnerable. His heart contracted despite his effort to stay distanced from the explosive situation unfolding in front of him. It had taken an immense amount of courage for her to come here and do what she’d done. He could only imagine how terrified she felt.
Closing the gap between them, he slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze up to his. “The king is a good man. You have nothing to fear.”
He, on the other hand, did, if she spilled what had just happened to Nikandros.
* * *
Alex’s heart thudded painfully beneath her ribs as her rather ominous-looking security detail nodded at her to precede him into the room. She stepped inside the palace library, its elegant chandeliers and wall sconces illuminating shelf upon shelf of precious volumes.
With her voracious passion for literature, the shelves might have stolen her attention had it not been fixed on the man who stood at the far end of the room looking out the windows, hands buried in his pockets.
She