A princess in peril must choose between duty and desire in this electrifying romance

No one believes Princess Serena has the strength to rule Acacia...least of all Serena. But the assassins that placed her in line for the throne have turned their sights on her. And the mysterious Casimir Cullen—who’s already saved her life once—is the only man she trusts. Serena is drawn to Casimir with overwhelming ferocity. But affairs of state require that she marry King Warrington of Rizari.

Casimir’s relationship with Serena was supposed to be a means toward revenge against Warrington. Falling in love was never part of the plan. Now, protecting Serena and bolstering her self-confidence has become his priority. But what will happen when she learns his secret destiny?

“I think the Princess of Acacia is playing a dangerous game.”

“I don’t play games,” Serena replied.

“Asking me to meet you here?” Casimir said. “If I weren’t more trusting of you, I would think this was a trap.”

“How could this possibly be a trap?”

“I think you know how the king and his mother would respond to finding us alone in the palace. It would call your pending engagement into question.”

“We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Katarina seems to believe my very presence is wrong,” Casimir said.

“She knows her son and I don’t have a relationship. Any male is a threat to the little that we do have.”

Casimir’s eyes traced from her eyes to her lips. “Do you want to make me a real threat to him?”

He was asking if she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it. Desperately.

* * *

Be sure to check out the next books

in this miniseries.

Conspiracy Against the Crown: Ally or foe?

No one can tell in this fight for power...and love.

Dear Reader,

I love royalty romances. Protecting His Princess (November 2013) was the first royalty-themed romantic suspense I wrote for Mills & Boon and Under the Sheik’s Protection (August 2014) was the second. Both took place in the Middle East.

For this book, I changed the location to the Mediterranean. I was inspirited by the beautiful landmarks, the beach havens, the rich culture and the picturesque settings.

Princess Serena Alagona never expected to be queen, and when she is thrust into the position on the heels of a family tragedy, she’s unprepared. Casimir Cullen didn’t plan to become involved with the princess. He only cares about revenge. When their paths cross, sparks fly.

I hope you enjoy The Secret King. I love hearing from readers and may be contacted through my website, cj-miller.com.

C.J. Miller

The Secret

King

C.J. Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

C.J. MILLER loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website, cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband, son and daughter. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances and happily-ever-after.

MILLS & BOON

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To my brother, Dr. Andy. Your sense of humor cheers me on my darkest days, your love of adventure inspires me and your unending support means the world. Love you, buddy.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Casimir felt the pulse of power in the ballroom of the Acacian castle. Three influential leaders, each with their axes to grind, were setting problems aside tonight in a public display of unity that hadn’t been witnessed in the past twenty years. The king of Acacia was turning sixty and the night was meant for frivolity.

Too bad one of the kings would die tonight by Casimir’s hand. He hated to ruin the party for the king of Acacia, but attacking the king of Rizari away from his palace made the logistics much simpler.

With the president of Icarus’s help, Casimir had smuggled his weapons into the room. He was ready. He had mentally run the plan dozens of times. He had trained. He would do what needed to be done, shed his fake identity for good and he would disappear, taking asylum in Icarus.

Casimir was careful not to touch the gun at his side, a habit he’d formed in the military to ensure it was in place. The knife in its sheath at his hip brushed against his pants. He did nothing to call attention to himself. In addition to the three leaders, the room was filled with security—each of the king’s guards and the president’s servicemen, all armed to the teeth.

Danae, the eldest princess of Acacia had her guards close as well. She was the heir to the throne, and watching her, Casimir understood why she was being courted by the king of Rizari. Princess Danae looked like a woman who liked to have fun, but who couldn’t organize her closet, much less a country. Her brunette curls bounced as she laughed and threw her head back in delight.

The younger princess of Acacia, Serena, was standing alone on the perimeter of the party. Unlike her sister’s vibrant, fanciful energy, Serena had a quiet, serious beauty about her. Her blond hair hung around her shoulders and she looked almost ethereal in a light blue gown. She sipped her glass of wine and watched the party with little change in her expression. No one spoke to her. She had to be bored. Casimir had been studying King Warrington’s social circles, and he found her behavior curious, very different from what he had experienced in Rizari. To blend in to the royal social circle, extraversion was critical.

Why was the princess so removed? He knew little about the king and princesses of Acacia. They didn’t factor into his plan, except that he was using their castle to exact his revenge. He would send an anonymous note of apology once he’d returned to Icarus and was safe in his new life, revenge complete. Perhaps then his soul would be quiet and peaceful.

“She is beautiful, no?” Demetrius DeSante said. The president of Icarus, and his good friend, spoke softly. Though DeSante and Casimir were careful not to give away how close they were, especially in regard to this conspiracy, DeSante had been making the rounds through the ballroom, talking to everyone with a title or a fortune. Casimir was pretending to have the latter.

Though DeSante had been accused of many bad things, he was a good leader and one of his best qualities was his charisma. He could talk anyone into doing what he wanted. It was another way he was dangerous.

The lights flickered and then went out.

“Is this your plan? You’re doing this now?” DeSante’s voice in his ear.

The blackout was not part of his plan. Casimir was nowhere near King Warrington of Rizari. Casimir could only see by candlelight in the darkened room. Acacia was plagued by energy distribution problems. “Not my plan. Rolling blackouts—”

The sentence died in his mouth. At the sound of gunfire, Casimir dove for the floor, instinctively dragging President DeSante with him. The ceramic tile was cold against his hands, but his body broke out into a sweat and adrenaline charged through him. Gunfire had that effect on him. He had already been keyed up, waiting for his chance to kill Warrington and now, he was all systems go and on full alert.

The music died. More gunfire and the room was filled with screaming and shouting. Glass was breaking and objects hit the floor. A woman’s heel pierced his hand. Damn stiletto shoes. Shaking off the pain, Casimir belly crawled toward the darkness, away from the windows. If an active gunman was peppering the area with shots, he was safer in the darkest corner of the room. Once there, he would take stock of his position and kill whomever had decided to ruin his revenge.

Casimir assessed the area. Though his eyesight was compromised, his hearing was sharp and his nose searching. As if his senses had been attuned to violence, he peered through the candlelit glow of the room. The king of Acacia was slumped on the floor, the older princess next to him. In the dimness, it was impossible to know if the king was dead or injured. The sound of gunfire was elsewhere in the castle. Seeing no one guarding the king, Casimir filled in the blanks. Security had fled in the direction of the shooting, leaving the bodies of the king and princess alone. Were they already dead?

Dread consumed him when Princess Serena’s face came into view. She was moving toward her father and sister. Was she trying to get herself killed? Wasn’t she aware she should run away from bullets, not toward them?

Forgetting his own safety, Casimir rose to his feet and sprinted toward her. Princess Serena was pulling her father behind a table. For protection? Her face was grief-stricken and her eyes met his. They screamed for help, pleaded with someone to come to her aid.

Women in need were a soft spot for him. He could have used the darkness to search for King Warrington and kill him. But the probability of finding him unguarded was slim. More pressing was the beautiful woman who needed his help.

* * *

Serena shouldn’t have come to the capital tonight. She had decided at the last minute to forgo her usual excuses and instead had driven to the castle for her father’s birthday.

Serena’s face felt sticky and her feet slid on the floor. She had to drag her father and sister to safety. Someone was shooting into the ballroom. No answers came to mind as to why.

She couldn’t find her father’s security. She had commanded her cousin and personal secretary Iliana to hide in the coat closet. But Serena couldn’t leave her father and sister exposed. She had no medical training, but she could be with them until help arrived.

Pulling her father’s weight was nearly impossible. Why was the floor so slippery? Her shoes slid out from under her again. Her dress tangled around her ankles as she fought to stand. A shadow blotted out the little light shining in her direction. Help had arrived! She lifted her head to welcome whomever had come to assist her.

Instead, she came face to face with the muzzle of a gun.

Before she could scream, not that screaming would have made a difference in the current environment, a hot and wet liquid hit her face. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, the lights were on again. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the scene.

The man who’d been holding a gun at her was slumped in the arms of a stranger. A very dashing stranger, with reddish-brown hair, hazel eyes, a mustache and goatee, pronounced cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose. Serena was sure she had never met this man before and yet he seemed so familiar.

He threw the body to the side. She winced at the sound it made hitting the porcelain tile. The man slid his knife into a sheath beneath his black suit coat. A knife-wielding stranger had saved her life.

He extended his arms to her. On the heels of a violent attack, she should be more wary of him, but her instincts told her he wouldn’t harm her. He had saved her life. If he wanted her dead, he could have allowed the gunman to kill her.

She took his hand. Her feet slid beneath her. Blood. It was blood she’d been slipping in. In stark contrast to the gruesome scene, the stranger was watching her with the kindest eyes she had ever known. She turned her head to look at her father and sister, to see what help they needed.

The man put his hand on her cheek. “Do not look, Princess. This is not what you should remember.” He took a white handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped her face. Blood smeared the material.

He began to escort her away. Suddenly, her father’s guards flew in her direction, ripping her from the man’s arms and slamming him against the wall.

“Release the princess!” More shouting and commands.

Serena held out her hands toward the stranger this time. “Please stop. Stop! I command you to stop! This man saved my life.” Now the guards appeared again? In the chaos, they had left her and her family unprotected. Hysteria threatened to consume her. She stared at the stranger. If she looked away from him, she would look back at her father and her sister.

“Come, Princess, you need to be taken to the safe room.”

The stranger looked over his shoulder at her. Her guards released him and he turned toward her, bowing slightly. “You will call on me again if I am needed.”

He fled the ballroom, toward the sound of sirens. He was gone before she realized she didn’t know his name.

* * *

President DeSante pulled Casimir away from the crowd. Everyone was being questioned by the police. In the circle of DeSante’s guards, they could speak freely.

“Was this your plan?” DeSante asked.

“I already told you it was not.” Casimir threw off his fury and focused. Someone had beaten him to the punch, but the assassins had killed the wrong king, at least in his thinking. “I had nothing to do with this.” His plan had been to kill King Warrington of Rizari only. His revenge did not include a massacre.

“This was chaos. This was reckless.” DeSante’s fingers bit into Casimir’s arm and his eyes were blazing with intensity. “This was not the revenge you had planned, but this is an opportunity. Don’t squander it.”

An opportunity?

DeSante spoke quietly. “Think like a king. Who is next to inherit the throne in Acacia?”

“The princess. Princess Serena.” It had been difficult to walk away from her. But he couldn’t stay. He had no reason to remain with her and if he did, too many questions would be asked.

“That’s right. The princess, the woman whose life you saved.”

Casimir mustered control of his anger over his lost chance. He focused on what his old friend was saying. They were not blood relatives, but they were brothers on the battlefield and DeSante owed Casimir a debt. A debt that would not be paid until Casimir’d had his revenge.

“I killed one of the assassins.” Casimir had slit the throat of the man who had planned to kill the princess at point-blank range. The assassin had gotten what was coming to him and Casimir felt no regret for his actions.

“That you did. I promised you revenge and asylum from the fallout of that revenge, but this is more than I could have given you. Use her.”

Use her for what? DeSante was a chess master, seeing many moves ahead in the game and in life. For Casimir, his anger often drove him harder than reason. He shook off his anger and took a cleansing breath. “You said she is to inherit the throne. Are the king and Princess Danae dead?” From what he had seen, it didn’t look as if they had much chance of survival, but doctors could sometimes perform miracles.

DeSante inclined his head toward the ambulances. “An official announcement has not been made, but I would assume that yes, they are dead.”

The ground had been covered in blood. The assassins had worked quickly.

True peace in the Mediterranean between Icarus, Acacia and Rizari had never been achieved. After tonight, Casimir guessed it would be impossible. Accusations would be made and blame would be spread around enough for everyone to be hit with some.

But perhaps DeSante was right and this was an opportunity for Casimir to achieve a goal he had never believed possible. As a royal, Princess Serena would be part of King Warrington’s social circle. After all, he had been planning to marry Serena’s sister. Casimir could use contact with Serena to keep the king close while Casimir planned his next move. If he was lucky and played his cards right, instead of killing King Warrington outright as he had intended tonight, perhaps he could clear his mother’s name. Casimir could make a play for the crown and the throne of Rizari. The crown that rightfully belonged to him.

King Warrington would pay for what he had done to Casimir and his mother, but not with his life. Instead he would lose everything that mattered to him.

* * *

“Do you think that President DeSante is responsible for the bloodshed?” Iliana asked. She set a cup of coffee next to Serena’s easel.

Serena didn’t look away from her canvas. She had been painting since midday. Painting and thinking. Her long-term therapist, Dr. Shaw, had helped, but she’d had only a couple weeks to process what had happened the night her father, sister and fifteen others had been killed in a massacre the media had dubbed the Birthday Bloodbath.

Serena found the name distasteful, but she found everything about the situation distasteful and almost too painful to bear. “He denies it. The investigation hasn’t uncovered who hired the assassins to murder my father.”

According to the one killer who had been apprehended by the police, the deaths of her sister and the others had been collateral damage. As if they hadn’t considered that firing bullets into a crowd in the dark would result in deaths. Serena wasn’t surprised to learn the ME had found amphetamines in the assassins’ bloodstreams. Their behavior had been aggressive and erratic.

Serena had never planned to be queen, and yet she would be Acacia’s queen in a few weeks’ time. She hadn’t had a boyfriend, and yet negotiations were in progress for her to marry the king of Rizari. Samuel Warrington had been courting Danae, and now, as if the two sisters were interchangeable, he planned to pursue Serena.

Serena had asked for a fortnight to grieve away from the public eye in the seclusion of her beach house, knowing that being granted that amount of time was a boon. Her personal feelings didn’t matter. Her country needed a strong alliance with King Warrington and Rizari, the closest country to the east, to keep the dictator of Icarus on their western shores from attacking during a time of weakness. Acacia’s Assembly would keep the country running while she grieved, but the country needed their princess.

King Warrington would provide military protection in exchange for uniting their countries and placing his own advisers in positions of influence in Acacia’s Assembly. He had agreed to respect her country’s culture and traditions and give Serena a certain amount of independence. It was the best and only offer she’d had. Her advisers were discreetly inquiring about other arrangements, but Icarus, through that detestable Demetrius DeSante, was rattling its saber, letting it be known that the death of the king of Acacia had presented them with an opportunity to strike. Rizari and Icarus had long been enemies and Acacia, being geographically in between them, was subjected to the fallout of that long-standing feud.

Serena’s solitary time was up and she would need to paste on a brave face and pretend as if she could be a competent and strong queen. Danae had been the perfect princess and would have been the perfect queen, the perfect bride and the perfect wife. Serena would be none of those things. Her formal training was untried and she hadn’t been blessed with the grace and elegance her sister had had.

Serena had much to do, much to plan, yet she was spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about the stranger who had saved her life. No one could give her his name. Witnesses who had seen him save her life provided varying accounts of the incident. He had been described as brown-haired and blond, tall and short, overweight and slender.

Someone recalled seeing him speaking to President DeSante, but when questioned, that loathsome man had claimed to know nothing about Serena’s protector. Serena knew how to tell when DeSante was lying: his mouth was moving.

Serena wouldn’t give up looking for the man with the kind eyes. Though her country didn’t have the resources to launch a national manhunt, especially for a man who was a hero, Serena had a few private investigators searching for him. The birthday guest list was being reviewed to see if someone could discover his identity. Whoever brought her information would be handsomely rewarded.

Serena wondered about the man with the gentle, compassionate eyes. Could he have been from Icarus? From Rizari? That would explain why no one seemed to know him. He had been granted entrance to her father’s birthday, meaning he was either invited or had attended as someone’s guest.

Her emotions were volatile, grief amplifying every feeling, and Serena tried not to become frustrated with her inability to find him.

Serena heard tires spinning on gravel. Looking out her second-story window, she saw her uncle Santino driving to her beach house, his off-road vehicle kicking up dirt. Her guards stopped him for a moment and then waved him through. After parking in front of her house, he climbed out of his car, limping as he walked. Though he had a cane, he hated using it, believing it made him appear weak. Uncle Santino had a scar that intersected his right eye and as a child, Serena had called him a pirate. The scar was a result of a tragic boating accident that had killed his wife soon after they were married.

Serena set down her paintbrush. She met her uncle on the wraparound porch, holding up her hands. “I would hug you, but I need to wash up first.”

“Painting again?” he asked.

“Yes.” Art calmed her and the past two weeks had given her many reasons to need serenity.

Iliana poked her head out on to the porch, her long red hair swinging around her shoulder. “Why don’t I prepare tea for everyone?” Iliana was her cousin on her mother’s side and officially Serena’s personal secretary. But their relationship went far deeper than boss and subordinate.

Serena and her uncle had met several times since the massacre. Sometimes they spoke about her father and sister, sometimes about the kingdom and sometimes about nothing of importance.

Santino sat at the kitchen table. With the curtain open, Serena counted four guards at the back of her house. With her being a potential target for yet unknown reasons, her security team wasn’t taking chances.

“When are you meeting with King Samuel?” her uncle asked.

King Samuel had been her sister’s boyfriend and according to Danae, he had been smitten with her. How could Serena put her heart into a relationship that should have been her sister’s? It felt twisted. “He wants to meet tomorrow evening for a dinner party.”

It was her understanding that others would be in attendance, which should make it less awkward in some ways, more stressful in others. Serena would need to behave and speak in a certain manner. Her every action would be scrutinized and criticized. The media would pick apart her clothing, hairstyle and how she accessorized. Serena dreaded it and promised herself she wouldn’t read their articles, which would undoubtedly accent her every inadequacy and include a snarky review of her love life or lack thereof.

“You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?” her uncle asked.

“Not really.” Thoughts of her sister and father kept her awake and on particularly bad nights, she lay in her bed and waited for morning to come.

Nightmares about the night her family had died, nightmares about the mother she hadn’t had in years and nightmares about her future haunted the little sleep she did have.

“Still thinking about the man who saved your life?” her uncle asked.

Sometimes. Often. “Now and then.” Why was she so obsessed with someone she had met once, for no more than a few minutes? If he wanted to be found, he would be.

What if there was a compelling reason he wanted to remain anonymous to her? He might fear the media response. He might not enjoy the idea of his rescue story being printed in the papers. It was another reason she had to keep her search quiet.

“Let it go, Serena. You don’t know what you saw. You’ll go crazy if you let this consume you,” her uncle said.

He had urged her to forget everything she could about that night. Serena wasn’t in any hurry to relive it, although occasionally brief flashes from that night interrupted her thoughts. “I know someone saved me.”

“And then disappeared. He could have been working with the assassins.”

“Yet he chose to kill one of them to save me?” It didn’t make sense. Unless her instincts were totally skewed, her protector wasn’t involved in the plot to kill her father.

“Please let this go, Serena. You will only be hurt again. I can’t stand to see you in more pain. You have enough grief to manage without adding to it. This fixation with him is unhealthy.”

Maybe she was thinking about her protector because it was easier and far more pleasant to think about him than to think about her father’s and sister’s deaths or how much she missed them. Though she had not lived in the castle and had been happy to have some independence, knowing she could reach out at any time was a comfort. Now, she felt alone.

Serena’s uncle wished to protect her. But he didn’t need to protect her from the man who’d saved her. Iliana returned to serve the tea and Serena changed the subject. No point in upsetting her uncle who was wrestling with his own grief over losing his older brother and his niece.

Her uncle left around nine that evening.

“You’re not giving up on finding the mystery man, are you?” Iliana asked.

“Not a chance,” Serena said.

“Why don’t you let me fly to Icarus and speak to DeSante? He knows something about everything and his spies are everywhere. Give me a few minutes alone with him and I can force the information out of him.” She lifted her knee mimicking hitting the dictator in the crotch.

Serena cracked a smile, rare for her these days. “I don’t think that’s advisable. He has big, scary guards and you’re topping out at five foot two.”

Iliana set her hands on her hips. “For you, I’d kick his butt. You know I could. I’m pretty mean when I’m angry.”

Serena loved that about her cousin. She was loyal and spunky and feared nothing. Her business phone rang and Iliana frowned and answered it, her tone professional and cool. “Princess Serena’s office. Iliana speaking. How may I help you?”

Iliana swore under her breath. “He’s a real piece of work. Hold on.” She pressed a button on her phone.

Dread coiled inside Serena. “What now? What’s happened?” Was her uncle okay? He had only left a few moments earlier.

“The coast guard is on the phone. The Icarus navy is preventing ships from entering our waters.”

Icarus’s navy, one of the fastest, biggest military operations in the region, boasted hi-tech equipment and sailors who came from generations of sailors. They were experts on the water. “What did you say?” Serena asked.

Iliana repeated her statement, this time slower. Serena had heard her the first time, but she hadn’t fully processed the information. Was DeSante planning to attack? Serena had no military experience. How should she maneuver in this situation? Who should she call? Though she had the ear of the head of the Assembly and she was supposed to wield influence, she was green and DeSante knew it.

It was dark, but that wouldn’t matter to the experienced Icarus navy. Was DeSante hoping to catch her off guard, ill equipped and scared? The idea incensed her. She might be weak now, but she wouldn’t be for long.

“Has the coast guard made contact with DeSante? What does he want?” Serena asked.

“I don’t know, hold on.” After a few moments, she said, “They say they want your confirmation that it’s okay to let boats through.”

Her confirmation? That made no sense. Icarus wasn’t in charge of screening what boats entered and exited through their waters. Acacia and Icarus had no such arrangement. “What do they really want?”

Iliana repeated the question into the phone. “He wants to speak to you. He being DeSante, the warlord.”

DeSante wasn’t exactly a warlord, but he wasn’t a peaceable man either. He had come to be president of his country during a violent coup.

This was a warning, then, from Icarus. If she refused to speak to him, DeSante would place an embargo on Acacia.

The dictator of Icarus was playing a dangerous game, mostly dangerous to Acacia with its weaker navy and dependency on imports. If DeSante refused to allow boats into their ports, Acacians would starve. “Put Demetrius DeSante on the line.” She sounded stronger than she felt. She had been avoiding the dictator’s requests for an audience and instead had allowed Iliana to put him off and explain that she’d needed time to grieve. Apparently, that time was over.

Iliana handed Serena the phone.

“Good evening,” Serena said, keeping her voice cool and polite.

“Finally, I have the pleasure of speaking with you,” DeSante said.

She wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with DeSante. “Let the boats through.”

“I would be glad to. I am an ally who can secure your western waters from enemies.”

What a load of crap. Her enemies consisted of him and whomever had killed her family, although Serena still suspected they were one in the same. “Let them through.”

“As you command. I expect a meeting with you shortly or my navy may again feel the need to question boats coming close to your shores.”

“You’ll have your meeting,” she said. She hung up the phone with a quaking hand.

Iliana grabbed her arm. “You did good, Serena. It’s okay. You sounded strong and the right amount of pissed off and polite.”

It wasn’t okay. The sharks were circling because they smelled blood in the water.

* * *

“She’s looking for you,” DeSante said.

Casimir knew it. He needed to play it cool. If he came on too strong, Serena would be suspicious. Casimir needed to approach her in the right manner with his plan in place.

When he was ready, he would allow himself to be found. Or perhaps he would show up at her castle and catch her off guard. The biggest downside to his plan was living with his fake persona a little longer. Being a wealthy heir who liked to party didn’t suit him, but it had been his cover to infiltrate King Warrington’s social circles. Though he had never breached the inner circle, he’d gotten to know enough royals and hangers-on that he couldn’t change his identity now.

“Someone may recognize me and tell her who I am,” Casimir said.

“As long as they give her the cover story and do not reveal who you actually are, you can handle it,” DeSante said.

Casimir could handle anything. He would leak the story that he had been the man who’d saved the princess’s life. It might keep him interesting to the royalty of Acacia and Rizari. Staying close gave him leverage to manipulate the situation to his benefit. “I’m not worried.” Yet. Living a lie every day was almost as hard as harboring the rage he felt toward Samuel Warrington.

“Call me after you make your move,” DeSante said.

“Will do.”

Casimir hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket. Few people trusted the president of Icarus, but Casimir did without question. Not only did DeSante owe him, DeSante had a vested interest in Casimir taking control of Rizari. Having allies in the region and preventing Rizari from interfering with Icarus had long been DeSante’s goal. With Casimir assuming the throne, DeSante would have the freedom to do as he wished.

Casimir entered his mother’s house. His weekly meetings with her were difficult to press through, and grew worse with each visit. Casimir hated the stink of booze and cigarettes. “Hey, Mom.”

His mother, Anna, rarely greeted him. She was sitting in the dark in her living room, like she often did. She had the television on, but seemed to be staring blankly at it. Casimir muted it. His mother hadn’t always been this way. Every year, she grew noticeably more withdrawn, tired and depressed. Now, he couldn’t convince her to sit outside on a nice day. She was a recluse and if he didn’t do something, she would die in this dark, dank house.

“He’s still alive,” his mother said. She was looking haggard, having lost weight, and her skin appeared sallow.

Samuel Warrington was still alive. Casimir hadn’t killed him. He had told his mother he would take care of it, but he had failed. The knowledge burned him. But he wouldn’t give up on his new plan. “There were other assassins in the room. They killed the Acacian king and his daughter Danae.”

His mother lit another cigarette. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

Casimir hid his frustration. His mother’s sole focus was revenge. “I couldn’t get to Warrington in the confusion.”

His mother said nothing and her silence reeked of censure. Her history with the king and his family was a bitter one.

One year into her marriage to King Constantine Warrington, he had falsely accused her of having an affair with his brother, Charles, and had exiled her. Anna had blamed Charles’s jealous wife, Katarina, for manufacturing stories about her. She had fled to Icarus with a new identity. Fearing for her life and the life of her unborn child, she hadn’t told the king that she had been pregnant with his baby. She had lived in Icarus and raised her son with her eyes on one goal: for Casimir to return to Rizari in glory and take his crown when he was of age.

But when Constantine and his brother were killed ten years ago, Casimir knew presenting himself as the rightful heir would earn him a knife in his back as well. He needed to be more careful, more crafty. Martyrdom wasn’t the goal. Making things right for his family and Rizari was.

Casimir’s existence and true parentage was a secret from everyone in the world, except his mother and DeSante, whom Casimir had allowed into his confidence when he was fifteen.

When his father had died, so had his mother’s chance of revealing to her ex-husband his true heir. With false accusations about her participation in his and his brother’s murders and her conviction without a trial, her life had spiraled further into darkness. Anna had sworn to Casimir all his life that she still loved his father. His death had robbed her of the family reunion she had not-so-secretly wished for. Anna had believed that Constantine would see that she had been loyal and that Katarina would be revealed as a liar.

That hadn’t happened.

When Anna had heard rumors that Constantine and Charles had been killed by Charles’s son, Samuel, in an effort to usurp the throne, she had made Casimir swear he would avenge his father’s death by killing the king who had stolen his life.

Chapter 2

Iliana recognized the country calling code for Icarus and felt a jolt of adrenaline. She had arrived at the castle early that morning to start work and she was eager for a tussle with DeSante’s goons.

They thought they could push Serena around because she was young and had been distant from her father for some years. There had been no bad blood between Serena and her father, but Serena preferred the quiet of her beach house and the private pursuit of her interests. She hadn’t been idle. She had painted a number of amazing landscapes and was making a name for herself—at least, under her alias—in the international art community. Iliana had brokered deals for her in the United States, Canada, Italy and France as well as throughout the Mediterranean. Iliana’s law degree had some use after all, which was a mild salve on her ego, considering she’d failed the bar exam three times.

“Princess Serena’s office. How may I help you?”

“Iliana.”

One word and Iliana knew instantly she was speaking with Demetrius DeSante, Serena’s enemy and the biggest bully in the Mediterranean. He thought he could push around smaller countries like Acacia. Maybe he had the stronger navy and maybe his economy was larger, but he wouldn’t push Serena around and he wouldn’t push Iliana around either.

“This is she. Who is calling, please?” Pretending she was unaware would knock his ego down a peg.

He had the gall to laugh. Pompous jerk. “This is President DeSante. Iliana, I enjoy our talks so much. But please, call me Demetrius.”

They had spoken twice before. Iliana had been openly hostile both times and she didn’t regret it. “President? Is that your official title? I mostly hear you referred to as a dictator.”

He was quiet for a beat and she wondered if she’d gone too far. Her mouth had gotten her in trouble before.

“I will take great delight in winning you over and hearing you call me by my given name.”

A little shiver of relief mixed with pleasure danced over her. “I wouldn’t hold your breath on that.”

“Such hostility from someone I barely know. Of course, I would like to know you better. You’ve proven to be quite spirited. I like that in a companion.”

Companion? What did that mean? Like a friend or a prostitute? She would be neither to him. Her heart raced and it was not because she found his confidence appealing. He was appalling. She would be wise to remember that. “What is it that you want? The princess is not available right now.”

“Such a shame. I was hoping to speak with her this morning about several pressing matters.”

“If you tell me what they are, I will relate them to the princess.” She wondered if he would tell her anything. In the past, he had refused to give her details of why he was anxious to meet in person and speak with Serena.

“Her father kept the peace between Icarus and Rizari. I need to know the princess’s stance on that.”

Was DeSante interested in peace in the region or did he want to stir up trouble? “I can assure you the princess wants no bloodshed.” Iliana shuddered, remembering the night of the king and Princess Danae’s murder. Serena had commanded her to hide in a closet and then had run off to aid her father and sister. Risky and bold, it was the side of Serena that came roaring to life in defense of the people she loved. When Iliana had left the closet where she’d hidden with several other women, the ballroom had looked like a slaughterhouse. Even now, the ballroom had not been reopened. Iliana wondered if it ever would be.

“What do you want, Iliana? Because you sound like you want to wrap your hands around my throat and throttle me, which wouldn’t be keeping with the princess’s desire for peace.”

She scoffed. “I don’t want to wrap my hands around your anything.” Why did that image elicit a strange stirring in her stomach?

“Perhaps you’re attracted to me and you hate that, so you’re lashing out.”

“I am not attracted to you.” Except it was a lie. The first time she had met him in person, she had had no defense against the rush of sensations. Her body had tingled and though he had been professional with her, she’d harbored some decidedly nonprofessional thoughts about him, his mouth, his body. She chalked it up to hormones. Her attraction to the dictator meant nothing. Handsome on the outside, he was a troll on the inside. Handsome could trick her hormones. Mean would prevent her from doing anything about it.

“What is it that bothers you most about me?” DeSante asked.

Listing his deficiencies could get her killed. At least, if rumors were true. “I do not feel safe enough to honestly answer that question.”

“You are afraid of me?” He sounded surprised. Wasn’t he accustomed to fear from his countrymen?

“I am afraid of nothing. I just don’t want to disappear.” Or be murdered in her bed.

“You have nothing to fear from me. I will not hurt you. Not today and not ever. If I found out that you had been harmed, I would seek vengeance for that atrocity. A lady should never be on the receiving end of violence.”

Why did he seem sincere? Why should she believe that? Even more, why did he sound as if he were earnestly trying to convince her? “How many people have died at your hands, believing that same thing?”

“What I have done for my country is not something I am ashamed of. I have spilled soldiers’ blood, but I have done so for the greater good.”

The greater good, which had fortuitously brought him into power.

“What is most difficult is accepting that you believe I am a monster.”

He was a monster. “Do you deny subjugating your people?”

DeSante made a sound of disgust. “I deny it emphatically. If you are asking if my methods of leadership are harsh, then yes, they are. But I am not ashamed that every Icarus family has food on their table and important work that contributes to our economy.”

Iliana had heard that conditions had improved in Icarus since DeSante had come into power. She couldn’t quite accept how he had come to power, but she felt a chink in her armor.

“I want you to come to Icarus as my guest. I will show you. I will let you see with your own eyes.”

His guest? Nothing in those words was sexual and yet her heart was doing somersaults. He had been secretive with the media and yet he wanted her to visit? “No.” Her reasons for saying no were complex. She couldn’t leave Serena now. She would feel like a traitor traveling to Icarus to spend time with DeSante. Spending time with DeSante under certain conditions could bring up some emotions she didn’t want to confront.

Iliana did not have a good track record with men. She was easily seduced. DeSante could break down her defenses. Iliana knew it. She was loyal to Serena and she would remain that way.

“Perhaps you will be persuaded in the future.”

To sleep with him? She smothered her outrage, realizing he’d meant changing her mind about traveling to Icarus. Iliana pulled her emotions under control. What about this man riled her so deeply? “We will see.”

“I believed you to be an open-minded woman. Did I misjudge you?”

“Of course I’m open-minded. But I cannot travel to Icarus unless Princess Serena decides she wishes it. Did you have anything else you wanted to talk to the princess about?”

“Tell her she is contemplating marrying a cad.”

She hadn’t heard that term in years. “A cad?”

“King Warrington will not make her happy.”

“And you would?” Iliana asked, feeling a stab of jealousy at the idea of Serena dating President DeSante.

“Not at all. I am not interested in marrying the princess. My interests in her are political and professional.”

Right. Though Serena hadn’t had many boyfriends, mostly as a result of her avoiding crowds and staying away from being the center of attention, she was a beautiful, voluptuous woman. “I’m writing this down. You’re not interested in war, you don’t want Serena to marry the king and you’re interested in her. Professionally.”

“Don’t forget that last word. My personal interests lie elsewhere. Until we speak again, and I do hope that is soon, be well. Good day, Iliana.”

She hung up the phone being more turned on from one phone conversation than she had by her last boyfriend in the year they’d been together. President DeSante was the trifecta of attraction: bad boy, bad ass and far too handsome for his own good.

* * *

Serena took her guard’s hand and stepped out of the town car to catch her balance and not trip over her gown. A plane flight and a long car ride had brought her to the palace of Rizari, King Warrington’s home.

She smoothed her green dress, hoping it was appropriate for the evening’s events. Iliana had helped her select it and yet Serena was a bundle of nerves about the entire visit, including what she was wearing. This was not where she shone. She was not great at small talk and mingling, and preferred to stay on the outskirts of a crowd and watch. Or better yet, to sketch or paint from a safe distance. Even hiding behind a camera had a certain appeal.

Before her father’s birthday party, Serena had not been to a formal occasion in years, avoiding them with carefully constructed excuses. Grief knotted in her stomach and she blinked away tears. How she wished her father and her sister were still alive!

“Your Grace?” her guard asked.

Serena realized she had been standing rooted in the same place, looking up at the palace. It was a breathtaking display of architecture and design. When Samuel had inherited the throne after the untimely death of his uncle, he had put energy and resources into renovating the two-hundred-year-old structure. The effort showed.

“I’m fine.” Her guards flanked her and she took the stairs to the front door. It opened and she was escorted inside.

She had always believed her castle to be ornate, but the palace of Rizari made Acacia’s royal home look like a straw hut.

This was her first date with King Warrington, although she wasn’t sure if he would consider it a date. Officially, it was a dinner party with members of the royal social circle, some whom she knew by name and others not at all.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she was escorted by King Warrington’s butler and her guards into the dining room. She was almost used to having her guards so close, but in her home, they didn’t hover over her as they did in public.

Serena scanned the room for an inconspicuous place to sit or stand, as was her usual technique when being in an unfamiliar place. Her eyes landed on a man across the room and her breath caught in her throat.

“Your Grace, may I offer you a drink?”

She held up her hand to decline, vaguely aware that she may have been rude, but she was impossibly fixated on one person. The man who had saved her life. As she crossed the room, she realized she could be mistaken. She could be imagining him. Thinking of him so often had a strange effect on her. She found herself almost subconsciously looking for him everywhere she traveled.

When she was a few feet from him, he took a sip of his drink and then turned his head toward her. Their eyes connected. She remembered those kind eyes, eyes of strength and compassion.

“Is it you?” she asked.

“Your Grace.” He bowed to her.

“What is your name?” She had to know before he disappeared again. A swell of emotion and questions rose up inside her.

“Casimir Cullen.”

Casimir. A regal name. His voice set off a sensation in her stomach, and excitement spiraled throughout her body. “Do you remember...” She didn’t know how to finish her thought. He had to remember that night. Anyone who had lived through it would have it seared into their memory.

She had thought, upon their reunion, her protector would grab her, hug her to him, and now she realized, she had pictured him kissing her, banding his arms around her and making her feel safe for the first time in weeks.

“I remember.”

She would have to settle for being the target of his warm, intense gaze. But the effect was much the same. “I’ve been trying to find you.”

He inclined his head and Serena glanced at the person he had been speaking to. More specifically, the woman he had been speaking to. This was the king’s dinner party. Was Casimir here with his wife? Why did that thought devastate her? Her entire being should be focused on grieving for her father and sister, and trying to wrap her arms around the tremendous tasks ahead of her. Yet part of her clung to Casimir as being something bright and good in her future. It was presumptuous of her to think they had a future.

“That night was difficult. I have been traveling, trying to clear my head,” he said.

“With your wife?” she asked, gesturing to the woman standing across from him.

The woman smiled. “Cas and I aren’t married.” The look she gave him implied she would like to change that at some point.

Cas. The nickname suggested familiarity and Serena was confused. Was this his girlfriend? Suddenly, her mind was reeling from a barrage of thoughts. What was he doing here? How did he know King Warrington?

The king of Rizari. Serena’s heart dropped and she felt sickened. She was at the palace to spend time with King Warrington and she was fixating on Casimir. She glanced around the room. As if reading her thoughts, Casimir spoke.

“The king has not yet arrived.”

The woman giggled. “He tends to be late. You know the type.”

Serena didn’t know the type or understand the reason for the laughter, and while his tardiness might have been rude, she was grateful he had not yet arrived. It had given her this moment with Casimir. “Casimir, could I speak with you alone for a minute?”

The woman frowned but stepped away. Serena walked toward the double-wide glass patio doors. Casimir followed her, as did her guards. Casimir opened the doors and led her outside.

“I have so many questions,” Serena said.

“Please ask them. I told you I was yours to call upon.”

He had said those words and yet he had disappeared without giving his name. “Do you live in Rizari?” she asked.

“I do not. I live in Icarus, but I travel frequently throughout the Mediterranean.”

Many follow-up questions came to mind. “What were you doing in Acacia?” Serena asked. She wanted to know everything about this man. Everything.

“Acacia is known for their world-class boat making and I am having one built. My friend Fiona,” he gestured inside to the woman he’d been speaking with, “knew I was in town and invited me to your father’s birthday party as her guest.”

His story made sense. Acacia’s boat-building history dated back a thousand years. Most of the royal naval fleet had been assembled in Acacia. To hear him refer to his companion as a friend soothed some of her worry. “I am pleased you recognize quality.”

He glanced at her lips and then his gaze skimmed down her body. “I recognize it.” His meaning was decidedly sensual.

“I have wanted to thank you for what you did that night. I don’t recall if I did at the time.”

She didn’t want the conversation to circle around the worst night of her life. Serena struggled with her grief and anger over what had happened. Yet, she felt it was important to acknowledge what he had done and express her gratitude.

“I did what any man would have.”

Except that he had done what no one else had. “My guards had left me.” Before becoming the heir apparent to the throne she had only traveled with one guard. That night she’d had two, but they had been trying to stop the gunfire and in the chaos, they lacked the training to execute the proper response.

“Their mistake,” Casimir said.

A mistake that could have cost her her life. Her uncle was reviewing and changing security measures to ensure nothing like it happened again. “You owe me nothing. But I want to know more about you.”

“Your Grace, you may ask me anything you wish,” Casimir said.

It was a cool evening and Serena noticed she could not see or smell the sea from the palace. “What do you do? I mean, besides saving the lives of princesses?”

He grinned. “My father owns a financial services company. He and I recently parted ways. A life of numbers and spreadsheets bored me. Until I figure out what I want to do next, I’ve been traveling, studying and having fun.”

She didn’t want to ask, but she needed to know about his relationship with King Warrington. She was aware, of course, that nothing could come of her attraction to Casimir. The king was courting her. This could be the only night she had with Casimir. The idea was beyond depressing. “How do you know King Warrington?”

“He and I have been traveling in the same social circles for years. Fiona invited me here tonight. I didn’t realize you’d be in attendance.”

Serena felt a mix of emotions about Casimir’s connection to King Warrington. She almost wished no one in Rizari had known Casimir, that he could exist in some space with her where they would be free to have a friendship without the interference of others. A strange notion, since she was not a possessive woman. Casimir had saved her life. She owed him, not the other way around.

“Are you pleased to see me?” she asked, trying to understand if he reciprocated any of her feelings.

Casimir looked over her shoulder and then returned his gaze to meet hers. “Yes. I should not say things like that to the princess, and to King Warrington’s future bride, but yes, I am pleased to see you.”

Though two of her guards were standing inside the door and another two were on the patio with them, Serena felt the space surrounding her and Casimir closing in on them. “I’ve thought of you often.” An honest admission that could cost her.

“I have wondered how you were coping. I read that your father and sister’s send-offs were touching. Many people have had nice memories to share about your father.”

A water burial, as was tradition in her country, had taken place for both the king and the princess. “I am glad to hear it. I’ve distanced myself from politics and the day-to-day duties of the royal family in recent years. But I’ll be forced into the center of the arena now and I have big shoes to fill.”

“Why haven’t you been involved in politics recently? I thought that was mandatory for a princess,” he said. He took a seat on a concrete bench with birds carved across the back of it.

Serena sat next to him, thinking how to frame her answer and not give away what she had been doing while at her beach house. No one except Iliana knew she had been selling her artwork and building her career as a painter. “My sister was to be the queen. I didn’t think my future entailed a throne, so I found other interests to pursue.”

“Tell me about them.”

Casimir hadn’t asked about her art directly, but she wanted to tell him. They had shared an experience that had changed her life and now she wanted to share this piece of her life with him. “I like to paint. And do yoga.” She spoke quickly, feeling strangely vulnerable.

“What do you like to paint?” He sounded both calm and interested without censure in his voice.

“The sea.” The beautiful sea, a source of calm and joy for her.

“I’ve never had much success with art. Or yoga. But I’d like to try it.”

“I could teach you to paint.” She offered quickly, without checking the words before she spoke them. It wasn’t like her to talk without thinking. She wanted a connection with Casimir, something to keep him in her life.

“Then it’s date. I’ll be in Acacia tomorrow to meet with my boat builder. Do you have time tomorrow?”

Tomorrow was Boat Day, a national holiday celebrating the water, and her schedule was full, but she would make time. She agreed, both nervous and excited about seeing Casimir again. Though this couldn’t end in a friendship—or something deeper—perhaps another day with her rescuer would satisfy her curiosity and she would stop thinking about him.

But looking at his handsome face in the soft lights of the patio, she had the impression it would be hard to forget a man like Casimir.

* * *

Casimir was glad he’d arranged an excuse to be in Acacia before tonight’s dinner party. His plan was unfolding as he had wanted, without as much manipulation as he’d expected. Tonight was about keeping the door open to his connection with Serena.

Convincing Fiona, the Countess of Provence in Rizari, to attend this party and bring him along had been easy. Making it clear that their relationship was platonic was trickier. He had been careful to keep their association on neutral ground. It worked out better for his plans for Serena. The princess had to see him as available.

Going through a traumatic experience, Serena’s heart would be guarded. Casimir would have to be diligent to breech those shields.

He had learned through a friend that King Warrington had been with his mistress that afternoon. Based on the king’s tardiness at tonight’s dinner party, he may still be with her. The idea disgusted him. Had Warrington considered Serena’s feelings before inviting her tonight and booking time with his lover earlier in the day?

The silver lining was that, for once, the situation was progressing to Casimir’s benefit. The king was missing in action and Serena had been drawn to Casimir immediately.

Casimir had to help her see that she would be miserable married to King Warrington. Though Warrington could give her some freedom, mostly because he cared only for her position and not for her, she would be bound by her marriage vows. Casimir sensed she was a woman who would keep those vows sacred. She would be loyal and true and consequently, she would be lonely and disappointed. The king would see no reason to stop seeing his mistresses on the side.

He wouldn’t treat Serena as an equal; he would devour her. He would exploit her, sleep with her, marry her and then keep her in his life in some superficial manner, maybe use her to give him legitimate heirs. He wouldn’t give her the respect and love she deserved. It incensed Casimir to think about it.

Granted, almost everything King Warrington did or said fueled Casimir’s anger. He wanted the man to suffer for what he had done. Killing his father, and dooming his mother to a life of misery, came at a heavy price and Samuel would pay it. That Samuel had killed, or arranged to have killed, his own father as well, spoke to the depths that Warrington would descend for power.

The doors to the patio opened and Samuel’s mother exited the dining room. Katarina strode toward Serena, looking regal in a red dress. Her dark hair bounced as she walked. Casimir recognized the glint in her eyes. She, like her son, was hungry for power and she would do anything necessary to secure an alliance with Acacia.

Underestimating Katarina’s ruthlessness would be a mistake. She held sway over her son and according to Casimir’s mother and rumors, she was vicious. Casimir wasn’t sure what role she played in the king’s and her husband’s deaths, but he guessed she was at least aware that her son had been responsible for it.

“Princess Serena, what are you doing out here?”

Serena blinked in the dark and rose from the bench. “Hello.”

“I was concerned when I saw you exit the dining room.” She glanced at Casimir and narrowed her eyes. “Do I know you?”

Casimir had been introduced to her twice before. Nice of her to remember. “I’m a friend of your son’s. My name is Casimir Cullen.” The word friend burned his tongue.

Katarina narrowed her eyes. Did she see the resemblance to his father? That resemblance had been difficult for his mother and she had made no secret of it. “Please excuse us. I would like to speak to the princess alone.”

Serena held out her hand. “If you think something improper was occurring, I must correct you. My guards are with me,” she gestured over her shoulders, “and Casimir saved my life.”

“Did he now? And how is that?” Katarina looked irritated.

Serena swallowed heavily and Casimir detected a tremor in her lips. She blinked and Casimir saw the tears shining in her eyes. Speaking about the night her father and sister had died was difficult for her.

“I was close to the princess during the massacre at her castle. I prevented one of the assassins from attacking her.” Short and to the point. No use drudging up the gruesome details of that night or saying “killing her.” Hearing him mention the tragedy had to be hard enough for Serena.

Serena looked at the ground and Casimir knew she was trying to compose herself. Grief was a brutal, unrelenting animal. He would have done anything in that moment to take away some of Serena’s pain.

Katarina folded her hands in front of her. “I see. Then allow me to thank you on behalf of my son for saving his bride’s life.”

Serena’s chest lifted and lowered as she took a deep breath. She seemed to be pulling herself together and when she lifted her head, her expression was calm. “Has His Highness arrived?”

“Not yet. Please, Serena, let’s have a little girl talk. What do you say?”

Before she could answer, Katarina turned to Serena’s guards. “You may wait inside.”

Serena straightened. “My guards stay with me.”

“The king has guards to protect his palace. You are not in danger while you are on the premises.”

“As you can imagine, after what I have been through over the past several weeks, I would feel better if my guards remained close.” Serena’s voice was saccharine sweet but there was no mistaking the edge in it.

“Very well.”

Casimir bowed to the women and strolled inside. Serena was timid in some ways, but when pushed, she wouldn’t hold back defending herself. He had thought Serena would be easy to manipulate, but seeing her strength in action was impressive. Made his plan harder, but notched up his respect for her.

* * *

Serena would not be shoved around by her future mother-in-law. Starting the relationship on that note would doom her marriage and Serena already had doubts about its future happiness.

“I know you are adjusting to your new position, but I should warn you, being alone with a man who is not my son is asking for trouble.”

It annoyed Serena to be spoken to condescendingly as if she were a teenager and the implication, that she had been doing something wrong by talking to Casimir, pissed her off. Her emotions were on a hair trigger, admittedly, but she thought Katarina had crossed a line. “Casimir is a man of honor. I am not ashamed to be seen with him in any context.” Maybe not naked with him in bed, which would certainly be inappropriate, but she was dressed and in view of her guards and the guests at the dinner party. But now that she was thinking about being naked with Casimir, she had trouble putting it out of her mind. Despite the coolness of the night air, heat flamed up her back and a new tide of arousal washed over her. Utterly distracting.

“I don’t say these things to chastise you, but if you read up on the history of the royal family of Rizari, you will find the implication of any disloyalty is not taken lightly.”

How would King Warrington react if she spoke to or flirted with another man? Behead her? “I will look into that.”

Katarina lowered her head, but Serena did not mistake the gesture for subservience. She would need to watch her back when it came to Katarina. Serena hadn’t planned to make an enemy of the king’s mother, but if she felt attacked, she would defend herself. She wished her sister was around to ask about the queen. The thought brought another wave of loss crashing over her.

“I will have my son send over some literature.”

“Speaking of your son, do you know where the king is?” Serena asked. Why invite her to a dinner party and then stand her up? He had to know she’d traveled a distance to be in attendance.

Katarina looked into the dining room. Stalling for time to manufacture a lie? “I know he had an important meeting this afternoon. Perhaps he lost track of time.”

“I see. That does not bode well for our relationship.”

“You cannot expect the king to be someone he is not.”

What did that mean? Expecting him to show up for plans he’d made wasn’t expecting too much. She was the princess and she had cleared her schedule. Serena had been second all her life. Everyone whom she’d loved had put her behind something or someone else more important. She could not live with being her husband’s second, at least not in his heart.

“I will keep that in mind in the future.” Serena walked away from Katarina, feeling daggers being shot at her back.

When Serena reentered the dining room, the same sense of dread and anxiety volleyed through her. Relying on her coping mechanisms, she found a chair in the corner of the room and sat, watching. Her gaze was drawn to Casimir. He was the most handsome man in the room. Apparently, the other women thought so as well. They fawned over him, touching the sleeve of his suit coat, practically stroking him to win his attention.

After several moments, he glanced toward the patio. Her heart thumped hard. Was he looking for her? Checking on her? He looked around the room and when he saw her, he said something to the woman he was speaking to and strode to Serena.

“Pleasant conversation with the king’s mother?” he asked.

“I’ve been warned that you could sully my reputation.”

“She said that?” He sounded incredulous.

“Not in those words. But apparently, I should have eyes and words only for women friends and the king. The king who is not yet here.”

Casimir’s eyes darted left and right. “Is this your first time in the palace?”

She must have made him nervous with her negative observation about the king. She had been thinking about Casimir so much, building him up in her head, she’d forgotten that she didn’t really know him. He had no reason to trust that she would not relate anything negative he said back to the king. She felt embarrassed for putting him in that position. “It is my first time in the palace. It is beautiful. My one complaint is that I can’t hear the sea.”

“The sea is a distance from the palace.”

“I won’t live here,” she said, thinking of the future.

“The king might be surprised when his bride moves to the beach,” Casimir said.

She hurried to explain, trying not to make him think less of her. “I used to fish and swim laps in the Mediterranean Sea and walk along the shore where the waves met the sand, letting the water cool my feet. I can’t give that up.” Not forever. She wished she were in her beach house now, listening to the water with Casimir.

“Marriage in any context is a negotiation.”

Except that in her case, she had none of the power and it entailed a lot of personal sacrifice with little personal gain in return. Acacia needed Rizari far more than the other way around.

On their first meeting as intended fiancés, the king was late. Was this an indication of how she would be treated during their marriage? Serena had a sense of foreboding. On the heels of that emotion was anger that the king thought so little of her. Would he have been late if he were meeting with Danae? Or perhaps the king was dreading this marriage as much as Serena was and looking for a way out. But if he offered an alliance without marriage, she would be turning Acacia over to King Warrington without any legal protection. That didn’t sit right with her.

Her father had always told Serena that she should not accept subpar treatment from anyone. She had tried to be pleasant and accommodating, despite the challenges she was facing. But the well of pleasantness was about to run dry. The last several weeks had depleted it.

A woman stumbled over to them and slid her arm around Casimir. She kissed the underside of his jaw. “I am so glad to see you. You make these dull parties fun.”

The woman took a big swallow from her glass of wine and glared at Serena. “Who are you?” The question sounded borderline hostile.

Casimir took a step away from the woman. “This is Princess Serena Alagona of Acacia.”

“Nice to meet you. Are you the one who’ll marry Samuel?”

Casimir shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, but Serena was intrigued by this intoxicated woman and what she had to say. “Nothing has been decided, but our countries are negotiating.”

The woman leaned forward and giggled. “I could tell you some hot stuff about Samuel. Most of the women in this room can. We’ve all slept with him.”

Serena hid her disgust and pretended she wasn’t repulsed by the idea of a slutty king who had invited his conquests to a dinner party with his future fiancée. “That’s a lot of women.”

Another giggle. “Not all at once. I mean, not usually more than one at a time. But sometimes.”

Serena’s hopes for a monogamous and meaningful relationship drifted further out of reach. King Warrington had been engaged to her sister. Was this woman speaking of the distant past? Could the king have been wild in his youth? Serena desperately wanted something to explain his behavior so she wouldn’t be doomed to a life of unhappiness. “The king enjoys spending time with a lot of women?”

“Sure. Of course. You’ll see. I’m sure you’ll receive the royal treatment, you know, one-on-one with him. But maybe not every night. He is easily bored.”

Was this a palace or a house of ill repute? “I see.”

She had been thinking that perhaps she could make this arrangement work, and maybe it was this woman’s intention to run her off, but after an altercation with the king’s mother and now this, Serena wanted more than ever to be home.

“That’s enough sharing. We can swap stories some other time,” Casimir said, leading the other woman away.

Everyone in this room must think Serena was an ignorant moron. If the women had slept with the king, were they laughing at her? The king might be tied to her in marriage, but would that mean anything to him?

She turned to her guards. “I’d like to leave now.”

They would not question her. As she moved toward the door, she tried not to think about what a spectacular failure this evening had been for her and her future with King Warrington. She had not made a connection with him. If anything, the experience had driven spikes between them.

She was on the front steps of the palace when she heard Casimir’s voice. “Your Grace, please wait!”

Her guards stepped between her and Casimir. “It’s okay.” She wasn’t mad at Casimir. Embarrassed by the king’s behavior and feeling like a fool, yes.

“Serena, those are wild tales about the king. He likes to have a good time. Don’t let a little provocation from his friends upset you. They are probably just having some fun at your expense.”

“He didn’t show up tonight.” Even if the stories the woman had related about Warrington’s bedroom behavior weren’t true, his absence couldn’t be disputed.

“He is being a fool,” Casimir said quietly.

“Seeing you again was the only thing that salvaged the night.”

She shivered and Casimir removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“I hate seeing you upset,” Casimir said. “And yet every time I am near you, you seem to be in that state. Let me do something that will make you happy.”

Serena felt the air sucked from her lungs. Was he planning to kiss her in front of the palace of Rizari? With her bodyguards standing around her?

“I will meet you in Acacia tomorrow,” Casimir said. “And I will bring a surprise.”

Not a kiss, but a promise of tomorrow. “Okay, tomorrow, then.”

* * *

Serena was too warm. She had her windows opened and the overhead fan running, but heat seemed to pour from her. Anger for one man and desire for another made her blood run hot.

King Warrington had humiliated her. She hadn’t been looking forward to the evening, but it had turned out worse than expected. With as much anxiety as she had about her social awkwardness and lack of finesse, her usually low expectations of social gatherings hadn’t been met.

Serena would rather focus on Casimir. When she thought of him, she felt white-hot desire. The emotion could be completely inappropriate given the recent deaths in her family, but it persisted. Having located Casimir, she’d thought thanking him for what he’d done for her would give her some closure about that night. But instead, she found herself longing for him more intensely. He had slipped his suit jacket over her shoulders and she had forgotten to return it to him. It was hanging on her bed post, which felt wild and forbidden. The pockets were empty, but the jacket smelled of him, like sandalwood and spices.

She rolled to her side, adjusting her sheets. Closing her eyes, images of her father and her sister’s bodies on the floor of the ballroom struck her. Nausea rolled over her. She opened her eyes. Maybe television would lull her into a mindless state.

She heard music as if caught on the wind, the light strumming of a guitar and the melodic sound of a man’s voice. Casimir’s strong, yet soft voice. Where was that coming from? Was she hallucinating at this hour? It was 1:15 a.m.

Looking out her bedroom window, she saw one of her guards patrolling her front yard. She knew at least two others were on the premises. Tugging a short robe around herself, she took the stairs to the main floor. On her wraparound porch stood Casimir, playing an acoustic guitar and singing quietly. She watched him for a moment, taking in how gorgeous he was. His dark silhouette was framed against the moon and the sea.

She memorized the image, thinking she could sketch it later.

Her heart was thumping as she walked outside. He continued playing, but had stopped singing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. The wind blew and she shivered.

“We made plans to see each other today. Since it’s past midnight, this counts,” Casimir said. “I couldn’t wait longer. I needed to see you now. I was serenading you.”

Her knees felt weak. She had never had a man anxious to see her. She held on to the back of one of her porch chairs.

She glanced at her guard, surprised he had allowed Casimir onto her porch.

Her guard’s shoulders tightened. “Do you wish to be alone, Your Grace? I overheard you agree to see him at the palace.”

She had agreed to meeting Casimir and she was happy he was here, at her beach house. Though they were not lovers, this had the makings of a secret rendezvous. She shivered at the thought. “Let me get dressed.” It wasn’t as if she had been sleeping anyway.

“You don’t need to change. You look good to me,” Casimir said.

Her legs were bare and her nipples were pebbled against the cotton of her tank top and robe. It was hard to believe he was actually here. “Want to come inside? I can show you where I paint.”

He shook his head and set his guitar on the porch, leaning it against her wooden chair. “No, we’ll save my first painting lesson for another day. Being in the princess’s house without a chaperone could be trouble.”

“My guards can be trusted,” she said.

“Perhaps I do not trust myself,” Casimir said. “Let’s go for a walk. You said you loved the sea.”

They started down the stairs and her bare feet sank into the cool sand. Her guard followed at a distance. As they walked along the water’s edge, Casimir didn’t touch her, didn’t hold her hand. His hands were tucked into his pockets in a boyishly charming manner. He had changed out of his suit and was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a navy T-shirt. She could make out the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest. She suppressed the urge to run her fingers down the hard planes of his body.

“I’m glad you came to see me tonight,” she said.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

Concern dotted his face. “I imagine you’ve had a hard time sleeping since that night.”

He bent to pick something up.

“I miss them. I go over the sequence of events and try to think if there was more I could have done. I try to remember the last thing I said to each of them. I don’t even understand why it happened.” Who had wanted her family dead? Why that night? The questions yielded no answers, only more frustrating questions.

Grief made her throat tight and she went still, closing her eyes and gathering her strength.

“You don’t have to be strong in front of me. Cry if you need to. I’ll be strong enough for the both of us. For you.”

A great heaving sob shuddered over her.

“I want to hold you. Let me hold you. Is that okay?”

She answered by stepping into his arms.

Casimir gathered her against him, his powerful arms clutching her to his muscular frame.

He held her while she cried. The water lapped over her feet at uneven intervals, the cool sensation soothing the burn of grief. The wind blew and the quiet of the night made her feel as if she and Casimir were hidden from the rest of the world.

When the tears stopped, only deep unrelenting sadness remained, heavy in her heart. Taking a deep breath, she rested her head on his chest. “A queen shouldn’t cry.”

“Where did you hear that? That’s nonsense.”

“My country needs me to be strong.”

“Crying and showing emotion doesn’t make you weak. It takes real strength to open up about how you’re feeling,” he said.

She broke away and sat on the sand. He sat next to her. He had his elbows propped on his bent knees. “You can say anything to me, Serena. I won’t sell you out.”

“I hardly know you,” she said. Yet she trusted him more than a princess should.

“When two people have been through something like we have, there’s a bond. It’s hard to ignore that connection. You can trust it. If you listen to your instincts, you’ll know I’m right.”

Then he had felt it, too. She would be careful what she said to him, knowing a woman in her position should be, but she had someone to talk to and that was what she needed most. “I was humiliated tonight. The king never showed and he never called.”

“It was a jerk move,” Casimir said.

Then she wasn’t the only one who thought so. “Why plan a party and invite me if he had no intention of coming?”

“I am not sure that he had no intention.”

“He could have called. Texted. Had someone else call or text.”

“That’s true.”

“I didn’t want to see him tonight.”

“Then why were you at the palace?” Casimir asked.

A complicated situation made more complicated by the day. “I don’t know how much you follow politics, but my country needs me to marry the king.”

“Why?”

“We’re in a difficult location being between two lifelong enemies. If Icarus decides to take a shot at Rizari, we’re in the way. Therefore, Icarus may want to use us or invade to have easier access to Rizari.”

“The president of Icarus told you this?”

She had yet to have a reasonable conversation with the president on the matter. “No, but Danae was planning to marry King Warrington to form a strong alliance with Rizari. Rizari’s military presence can prevent Icarus from seeing us as an easy mark and attacking. The Assembly believes it’s inevitable for Icarus to make a play for more power and more land.”

“I see,” Casimir said. He didn’t seem eager to share his thoughts on the matter.

“What would you do?” Serena asked.

“That’s not for me to say.”

She wanted to know. “I asked your opinion.”

Casimir glanced at her, amusement on his face. “Is that a royal request?”

“It is,” she said with a smile.

“I would hate to belong to someone in marriage who I could not tolerate as a person and who did not respect me.”

“I belong to no one,” she said. Yet even the denial was a lie and she knew it. From the weaker position, she would be forced to agree to Warrington’s terms. He would own her.

Serena watched the endless waves and thought about running away, just getting in a boat and sailing off. “I was never meant to be queen.”

“Life has its own sense of humor. Perhaps you never believed you would be, but you have what it takes.”

She scoffed. “If you knew me better, you would not say that.” He didn’t know about her social anxiety, the complete lack of experience and the fact that she had zero desire to be the figurehead of a nation.

“What I know tells me you are strong, faithful and loyal. What better qualities to have in a queen?” He handed her a piece of green sea glass.

She held it up in the moonlight.

“A broken shard of glass, someone’s trash. It’s been tumbled by the water and smashed by the rocks and the sand until it’s beautiful and shiny.”

“What it’s gone through is what makes it beautiful,” Serena said. She held the sea glass in her palm.

Casimir had the soul of a poet, the strength of a fighter and the bravery of an explorer. Everything she had been looking for in one man and had never found. Her heart clamored at her to crawl into his lap. But she couldn’t.

She belonged to another man.

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