Читать книгу The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12 - Кейт Хьюит, Шантель Шоу - Страница 21

THE day of the queen’s birthday celebration was an anomaly.

It was winter, when cool winds and rain often lashed Aristo, but this day dawned bright and warm.

Alex hardly noticed. He had not been home since he’d left Maria in the guesthouse. He’d returned the crown to the display case in the vault and, ever since, he’d been closeted with his brothers.

They were trying to come up with answers. Where was the missing diamond? Who had stolen it? When? How could the switch have gone unnoticed? Where did they start searching for the real stone? Most pressing of all, how could they keep it all a secret?

And it had to be a secret. They could not permit word to get out that the stone was gone.

On the simplest level, news like that would be humiliating. Far more unsettling were the possible political consequences. What if a Calistan sheikh somehow gained control of the diamond? Could he then twist the true meaning of King Christos’s legacy, join the Aristan stone to the one in the Crown of Calista, and claim the right to rule both kingdoms?

It was a real possibility, one that might well destroy Aristo.

He missed Maria terribly. Her smile. Her quiet strength. The feel of her in his arms. He phoned her whenever he could: even the sound of her soft voice was an oasis of calm in the middle of a storm.

“I miss you, glyka mou,” he told her softly.

She missed him, too. Terribly. But she understood that he was needed at the palace. Sometimes, she could forget her lover was a prince. Now, she couldn’t escape it. So, rather than burden him with her own feelings, she did what she thought was right. She said she missed him, too, but she was busy.

“Even if you were here, Alexandros, I couldn’t spend time with you. I have last-minute work to do on your mother’s necklace.”

“Oh,” he said, just that one word, but he sounded disappointed. She almost told him she was lying, that she missed him so badly she ached, that if he came through the door she’d toss everything aside and run into his arms…

But the last thing he needed now was a clinging female. Her Alex, along with Sebastian and Andreas, were like jugglers trying to keep a dozen balls in the air. Elissa had just arrived home. She and Kitty were busy helping their mother get ready for the party.

The king had come home from the hospital against the advice of his doctors. The heart attack had not done any damage, true, but they wanted other tests. Nonsense, said Aegeus. There were affairs of state to deal with. Tia’s birthday. All the media attention the celebration had brought. Scores of foreign dignitaries.

“I am fine,” he insisted.

Was he? The brothers thought their father looked ill.

“Actually,” Sebastian said, “he looks like hell.”

It was an accurate assessment. The king was pale. He seemed to have shrunk in size and there was a constant sheen of sweat on his forehead. And why did he never mention the missing diamond? That seemed strangest of all.

“If we can just get through the celebration tonight …” Alex said, and they all agreed. Get through tonight and then they could institute a real if subtle search for the missing stone.

Alex was going home to shower and change. “We’ll have half an hour alone, sweetheart,” he said when he phoned Maria, “but we can make the most of that half hour.” He told her how they’d do that, in explicit detail, and she gave a sexy little sigh and said she’d be waiting.

Smiling, he flipped his cell phone shut. He needed that thirty minutes, not just to make love to her but to tell her what he’d started to tell her three days ago. What he should have told her weeks ago.

He didn’t want her to leave him.

Once she gave the necklace to the king, once the king presented it to the queen, Maria would go back to New York.

He could not imagine letting that happen.

They were at the start of their relationship, not the end. In the last month, she had become part of him. She was—she was everything to him. Sometimes, when he held her close, he wanted to tell her—to tell her—

“Alex?” Andreas was hurrying toward him. “Change in plans. Last-minute stuff. Sebastian’s meeting with that guy from the BBC, I’m going to talk to CNN. Kitty’s doing a piece with The New York Times. Lissa was going to deal with Newsweek but Mother needs her, something about the flowers. Can you take her spot?”

Alex looked at his watch. “I have to get home, Andreas.”

“You mean,” his brother said, smiling, “you want to see Maria.”

“No, of course not. It’s just that my tux is at home …” Alex sighed. “You’re right. I do.”

“Well, you’ll see her soon enough. The party starts in a couple of hours. Let your driver pick up your tux, okay? If you don’t take over for Lissa, we’ll be up the creek without a paddle.”

Alex hesitated, but what choice was there? He couldn’t walk away from his duty, no matter what his own needs. He hoped Maria would understand.

She did more than understand. She said that it was just as well, she still had to do her nails and her hair. He said fine, he was glad it had all worked out, but he was lying.

What he’d wanted her to say was that she’d been longing for him. That it was agony to know they would not have half an hour alone.

He had no way of knowing that Maria was lying, too. She’d been counting the hours until Alex came to her, but she couldn’t tell him that. She needed the feel of his arms around her. And then there was her pregnancy. She had to find the right time to tell him about it.

But when?

He was, after all, a man with all the responsibilities of a life completely different from hers. He might see her as an exciting lover but that was all she was, all she ever could be…

Her throat tightened.

Maybe she wouldn’t tell him about the baby. Not just yet, anyway.

Not until the time was right.

The evening started with a flourish.

A dozen royal heralds played a trumpet fanfare at the top of the marble steps that led into the huge ballroom. A velvet curtain at the far end was drawn back and the queen swept in on the king’s arm. The hundreds of guests smiled and applauded her arrival. Every eye was on the radiant Tia.

Every eye but Alex’s.

He was waiting at the opposite end of the enormous room, waiting and watching for Maria. Where was she?

“Alexandros,” a voice whispered, and he turned and there she was, standing behind him, so gorgeous in a silk gown the color of fine sherry, her dark hair tumbling down her back in a profusion of waves and curls accented with tiny ruby and diamond stars he’d had sent to her, that the sight of her almost stopped his heart.

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate but took her hands, drew her through the crowd and out to the terrace, took her in his arms and kissed her.

She melted against him.

“Maria,” he said softly, “kardoula mou, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Her mouth curved against his. “And you, my prince, are the most handsome man on the planet.”

He kissed her again. “I hoped you’d be here before the celebration started.”

“The car,” she said, on a little laugh. “We had a flat tire. Don’t let on that you know, Alex. Poor Alastor felt awful.”

“As he should,” Alex said, but he smiled. “Never mind. You’re here now. That’s what matters. Did you give the necklace to my father?”

Maria nodded. “He seemed pleased with it. He said he’ll give it to your mother at midnight.” She hesitated. “Is he all right? He looks—”

“Terrible. I know. We tried to convince him to cancel but he refused.” Alex gathered her closer against him. “Let’s not talk about that,” he said softly. “Not when I have something important to discuss with you.”

Now was the time to say that she did, too.

“Maria.” Gently, he brushed a curl from her forehead. “I know you’re supposed to… I mean, I know we agreed you would …” Alex groaned. “I’m making a mess of this, glyka mou. What I’m trying to say is—”

“Your Highness! Prince Alexandros!”

An equerry was running toward them. Alex knew, before the man said another word, that the news was of his father.

“The king?”

The equerry nodded. “He’s been taken ill, sir.”

Alex ran into the ballroom. Maria hiked up her skirt and ran at his side.

“Where is he?”

“The throne room, sir. There’s a helicopter on its way. Your Highness?” The equerry, running with them, caught Alex by the sleeve just before they reached the throne room. The simple action was so unprecedented that it startled even Maria. “The king wishes to see Ms. Santos.” He swallowed audibly. “Alone.”

“Me?” Maria said, in amazement. “That can’t be.”

The Karedes family was gathered outside the closed doors of the throne room, faces white and puzzled. When Maria hesitated, the queen motioned her forward.

“My husband wants to see you, Ms. Santos.” Tia bit her lip. “Please. I don’t think there’s time to waste.”

“Go on,” Alex said softly, and touched his hand to her cheek.

The doors closed behind her with an audible click.

This was Maria’s first visit to the throne room. It was not as big as she’d imagined, the size, perhaps, of half her loft, but it was elegant. A red carpet stretched toward a pair of ornate chairs that stood on a raised platform but the chairs—presumably, the thrones—were empty.

“Here,” a weak voice said.

The king was alone. He lay on a crimson velvet sofa, head elevated on a blue silk pillow.

Maria moved slowly toward him. Her heart thumped. He’s dying, she thought, and, as if he’d read her mind, Aegeus struggled up against the pillow.

“I am not dead yet, Ms. Santos. Come forward.”

“Your Majesty. Your family is outside. Surely, you want to see them—”

“You were not supposed to learn that the diamond in the crown is false.”

Maria caught her breath. “You knew?”

The king’s face contorted. He groaned and Maria swung toward the door to call for help but Aegeus’s fingers wrapped around her wrist with the steely grip of command.

“My son is in love with you.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Alexandros loves you, Ms. Santos. I’m not sure he knows it yet, but he does.” He drew a rasping breath. “But you must not return that love.”

Maria shook her head. “Your Majesty. Please. You’re very sick—”

“All the more reason for you to pay attention to what I say,” he said, a touch of the old sharpness edging his words. “You must understand that there is no room in a royal’s life for love.”

“Sir. This is hardly the time—”

“A prince is not born to his mother or father, Ms. Santos, he is born to his nation and his people. His life, from birth, is one of responsibility. Commitment. Obligation.” Aegeus took another labored breath. “Someday, my sons will marry. They will marry young women born of blood as royal as theirs, young women who understand what is expected of them.”

Maria sank to her knees beside the sofa. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes and she blinked furiously to keep them from falling.

“I love your son,” she whispered. “And I understand he has responsibilities. I can help him shoulder them. I can step back when I must.”

“If you truly love him, you will give him up.”

“No. No! You can’t ask that of me. Or of him. If Alexandros loves me—”

“His duty is to his people. To his mother. To me. A prince who falls in love with the wrong woman can only destroy her. He can only destroy his nation and himself. Maria. If you love my son as you say you do, you will leave him. And you will not tell him the reason. Alexandros must never know you love him, or that you gave him up because you love him. You must walk away from him, from his life, and never look back.”

Tears streamed down Maria’s face.

“You ask too much of me,” she said. “You have no right!”

“I love my country and my people. And though you may not think so, I love my children.” The king took a long, agonizing breath. “Alex thinks you will make him happy but you won’t, Maria. Your love can only hurt him. You must, you must, set him free.”

“Your Majesty—”

The king jerked upright. His hand went to his throat; his breath rattled though a mouth gone wide, gasping for air.

Maria sprang to her feet.

“Help,” she shouted.

“Maria,” Aegeus whispered hoarsely.

“Someone, help—”

The door swung open. Footsteps clattered against the marble floor. And, as they did, Aegeus grabbed Maria’s hand again.

“Promise me,” he said fiercely. “Swear that you will do what you know you must.”

Weeping, Maria stared at the king’s stricken face—and knew he was right. She could not share Alexandros’s life. He was a prince and she—she was nobody.

“I swear,” she said.

A smile pulled Aegeus’s lips back from his teeth—and then he fell back against the pillows. His family surrounded him. The queen sank to the floor beside him, took his hand and began to weep.

“He’s gone,” she said, “he’s gone!”

Alex gently drew her to her feet. Sebastian put his arm around her. Andreas touched her shoulder. Kitty and Lissa bent over their father and sobbed.

And Maria did the only thing she could. The thing Aegeus had asked of her. The promise she had made him that she knew, in her heart of hearts, was right.

She slipped from the room, from the palace.

From Alexandros’s life.