Читать книгу The King's Captive Virgin - Natalie Anderson - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you don’t know where she is?’ King Giorgos Nicolaides glared at his security chief.

The uniformed man shifted and took two attempts before answering audibly. ‘I have the entire team on it now, Your Majesty.’

‘Now?’ Giorgos, ordinarily so cool that people genuinely believed he had ice in his veins, was lethally close to losing his temper. ‘You’re telling me that Princess Eleni hasn’t been seen since late this morning, yet I am only hearing about it “now”?’

It was hours after she’d last been seen. It was now evening—dangerously close to darkness.

‘She went into the hospital but never made it to the usual ward that she visits.’

Every muscle in Giorgos’s body strained as he fought to control his innate instinct to sprint from the palace and start combing the streets for his sister.

Breathe. Think. Assess. ‘So where did she go?’

The man before him paled at Giorgos’s soft query. ‘We’re working on that, Your Highness.’

‘I assume you’ve checked all available security footage?’

He fisted his hands in a fierce attempt to hold back the rage threatening to overwhelm him. Why had his supposedly elite security soldiers waited so long before informing him? Unacceptable.

‘Her guard is to be fired,’ he snapped, unable to resist the need to take some kind of action. ‘As soon as she is found I want him gone.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The man all but fled from the room.

Giorgos took no satisfaction in knowing that other heads would also roll once the situation was under control, because for now he needed every one of those ‘elite’ soldiers to be out there trying to find her. Trying to rescue her.

Because she’d been taken—Eleni never would have left the hospital willingly. And when he got his hands on the foul bastards who’d stolen her with the intention of doing heaven knew what—

He halted his horrendous thoughts and stalked the perimeter of the large room. Find her. They just had to find her. Fast.

‘Sir—’

Giorgos whirled back as the soldier re-entered the room. As he registered the expression in the man’s eyes he felt his blood chill. This was a man who’d faced horrors before—not only in war, but in natural disaster rescue and recovery operations. He’d experienced the gamut of human devastation. And right now he looked wary. Why?

‘What?’ he rapped. His brain couldn’t compute complete sentences.

‘One of the street cameras shows—’

‘What?’ He stalked forward and gestured at the laptop the man held. ‘Show me.’

Impatiently Giorgos stared at the screen. The footage was grainy, but the identity of the woman on the screen was unmistakable. Giorgos watched his younger sister walk alongside a tall man—away from the hospital—to a car parked not far along the quiet side street. He watched as she got into the car and allowed the man to drive her away.

The man who’d held no gun or knife or any kind of discernible weapon. The man who’d almost been smiling. There’d been no apparent coercion, no apparent threat. Giorgos’s blood ran so cold he actually shivered.

His sister had chosen to leave.

The very night her royal fiancé was flying in to see her she’d run away with another man. And it had taken Giorgos only that one look at the man to know Eleni was in big trouble. That slimeball held his head high and had an arrogance to his long stride. He wasn’t afraid to be seen and he clearly knew what he wanted—Princess Eleni Nicolaides. And now it seemed he had her.

The question was why—what was he going to use her for? But that answer was also blindingly obvious. The man was a predator, an experienced seducer—Giorgos recognised it instantly because once upon a time he, Giorgos, had been a using bastard like that too.

He clenched his fists, seething with impotent fury. He didn’t blame his sister, only himself. She was naive and innocent and young and she’d been duped—no doubt about that. Bitter bile burned the back of his throat. This was entirely his fault. He should have protected her more, should have kept her safer... But heaven knew he’d tried. Right now he couldn’t understand how this man had got access to her.

‘Who is he?’ He breathed the question slowly.

Before his security chief could answer Giorgos’s mobile rang. He froze, his gaze locked on that of his soldier. They both knew very few people had his personal number. He forced out a breath as he snatched the phone from his pocket and swiped the screen.

‘Giorgos, it’s me.’

His sister scrambled to speak before he had the chance to.

‘Eleni. Where are you?’ He was so relieved to hear from her he barked his words like bullets. ‘Come back to the palace now. Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused?’

But she didn’t answer immediately—and her pause put Giorgos back on high alert.

‘I’m not coming back yet, Giorgos. I need time to think.’

‘Think? About what?’ Giorgos didn’t think at all before berating her. ‘Your fiancé is already here. Or had you forgotten that you’re about to go on tour with him?’

The image of her calmly walking away with that other man replayed in his mind—walking away from her duty, from her country. How could she? He’d never have believed her capable. She’d always embraced her role and been accepting of her future. Everything was perfectly prepared and the plans had been in place for over two years. This was an excellent match for her—she well knew that, as royals, their lives could never entirely be their own.

‘I can’t do it, Giorgos.’

‘Can’t do what?’ His impatience almost got the better of him.

There was another moment. Giorgos listened closely to the unnatural silence, sensing a new level of danger.

‘I’m pregnant,’ she said softly.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t bear to think.

Pregnant.

With one word he was transported back to another time—to another woman. The split-second recollection of the devastation that had ensued slammed into him as if it had been yesterday.

‘Prince Xander isn’t the father,’ she added.

It was his worst nightmare—he’d longed to protect her from exactly this kind of mistake.

‘Who?’ he finally whispered. ‘Who?’ That ferocious anger was unleashed.

‘It doesn’t matter—’

‘I’ll kill him. I’ll bloody—Tell me his name.’

‘No.’

His rage ran unrestrained and he shouted into the phone. ‘Tell me his name, Eleni. I’ll have him—’

‘Call off the hounds, Giorgos. Or I swear I’ll never return. I will disappear.’

His jaw dropped and he was stunned into silence by her interruption. Eleni never interrupted him. Never swore or answered back. And she sure as hell never made threats. What had happened to his sister?

Again a reprise echoed in his head—of his own headstrong argument with his father, his own defiance that had led to such destruction. Recklessness and impulsive action like this led to chaos and calamity. The last thing he wanted was for her to suffer a lifetime of guilt and regret. He knew too well how heavy that burden was.

‘It doesn’t matter who it was,’ she followed up firmly. ‘He didn’t seduce me. I was a fully willing participant. I made the mistake, Giorgos. And I need to fix it. Tell Prince Xander I’m sick. Tell him I ran away. Tell him anything you like. But I’m not marrying him. I’m not coming back. Not yet. Not till I’ve sorted it out.’

Shock at her rebellion almost made him stagger. ‘Are you with him now?’

‘I’m not marrying him either,’ Eleni said.

Giorgos muttered a series of swearwords through gritted teeth. She was so damn naive.

‘This child is mine. Pure Nicolaides,’ she said. But then her tone softened to include the gentle plea he’d rarely been able to resist. ‘And please don’t blame Tony for losing track of me. It wasn’t his fault.’

‘Your protection officer has no idea where you’ve gone. He’s clearly incompetent. He has been dismissed.’

‘But it’s not his fault.’ Eleni’s voice rose, returning to that uncharacteristic tone of opposition. ‘I told him—’

‘Lies,’ Giorgos snapped. ‘But it is his fault that he lost track of you. His employment is not your concern.’

‘But—’

‘You should have thought through the consequences of your actions, Eleni. There are ramifications for all the people of Palisades.’

He closed his eyes again. This hurt so much. He needed to make her see sense and stop this foolishness before even more damage was done.

‘How do I stop a scandal here, Eleni?’ he asked as gently as he was able, making himself focus on her and not his own tortured past.

The past he could not change. But the future? That he could help to forge. He would care for his sister however he could. He owed her that, given it was his fault she had no father.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said dully. ‘I take full responsibility. I’ll be in touch when I can.’

Giorgos kept his back to the man in the room long after she’d ended the call, realising how close he was to losing her. That simply was not an option. His sister was all that remained of his family and he’d vowed to protect her—and their family name.

‘His name is Damon Gale...’ his head of security ventured quietly.

Giorgos drew in a deep breath before turning to take on the battle.

‘Everything,’ he said firmly. ‘I need to know every last thing about him. I want all records of him entering and exiting the country. I want to know who he is and what he does—down to what he has for breakfast and what detergent he uses. I want everything. Nothing is too small or too trivial to know.’

‘We’re already putting together a dossier.’

‘I want it in less than an hour.’ He wanted it now.

‘Yes, sir.’

Alone once more, Giorgos paced the room as he waited for the vital information to arrive. How had this man got to Eleni? When had he had the chance to seduce her? He’d arranged a perfectly suitable engagement. She would be going from this palace to another nearby. And she’d been pleased—hadn’t she? She’d always understood the expectations of her.

He turned as his security chief finally re-entered the room fifteen minutes later.

‘We’ve been running all palace footage through facial recognition software,’ he started.

‘And?’ Giorgos prompted him curtly.

‘It seems Mr Gale was a guest at last month’s hospital ball.’

‘The hospital ball?’

Giorgos was so surprised he dumbly repeated the man’s statement. But then he looked at the open laptop the man had carried in. There, frozen on the screen, was proof that this Damon Gale had breached the gates of Giorgos’s own damn palace.

A series of four images had been captured from the security footage. The ball—a masquerade—was an annual fundraiser for the hospital, and yet Damon Gale hadn’t bothered with a mask even then. He’d walked in with one woman, but had then been caught on camera promenading in the ballroom with another. A tall, slender woman in blue—and even with the mask and the wig she wore Giorgos knew it was his sister.

So the arrogant jerk had seduced Eleni in her own home, under Giorgos’s very nose. He’d had the gall to ditch his date while he went princess-hunting.

Giorgos looked back at the first image and could hardly focus for the fury rising through him at the sight of Damon’s date. She too wore no mask, and she was stunning. There was pretty and then there was beautiful, and Giorgos had met plenty of both—models, actresses, heiresses—enough to be jaded...spoilt, even. But this was a woman in another league altogether.

Both serene and haughty, while subtly flaunting her sexy curves, her brunette hair was long and thick and hung in a seductive swathe to the narrow waist that was the cinch between her bountiful breasts and curvaceous hips. But even though she had the ultimate hourglass figure, it was her face that was utterly arresting—the pure symmetrical beauty of her wide eyes, upturned nose and pillowy pouting lips.

She was indisputably, classically perfect. Every inch of her spoke of femininity and sensuality. Her undeniably exquisite features meant she’d be a woman who understood her power and her worth. The dress she’d chosen emphasised that fact—it covered, yet clung, and he knew she’d deliberately chosen it to emphasise every killer curve.

A hot rage brewed deep in Giorgos’s belly—he was familiar with beautiful women who toyed with men. Who betrayed them. But why had Damon Gale left her side to target Eleni?

‘Get me a print-out of this picture,’ he snapped.

‘Of Mr Gale?’

‘Of them both. Who is she?’

Why had this man gone to seduce Giorgos’s innocent younger sister when he’d walked in with this woman? What part did this...this vixen...have to play in it?

‘Her name is Kassiani Marron. She’s known as Kassie and she works at the hospital.’

‘My hospital?’ Giorgos tensed as his fury burned hotter. ‘So she brought him to the palace?’

‘Actually, Mr Gale held the invitation. She accompanied him.’

Giorgos drew in a sharp breath. She was Damon Gale’s date—he’d asked her to attend with him yet set his sights on Eleni? Giorgos was stunned. This woman held such sexual allure...

‘Ms Marron is Mr Gale’s half-sister,’ the officer added. ‘She is the illegitimate daughter of John Gale, Damon’s father, an American diplomat.’

So she was Damon’s half-sister—family. Of course. It made sense. She was the feminine feline equivalent of her predatory brother. Scalding hot satisfaction rushed through Giorgos’s system, flooding his rage and turning into another emotion altogether. An emotion he had no inclination—and no time—to define.

He narrowed his gaze on her image and tried to process the revelation rationally. The vixen would have information. The vixen would have answers. The vixen would pay. Adrenalin charged his system like a lightning bolt of electricity, empowering his drive and focus.

He whipped his head up to glare at the security chief. ‘Where is she now?’

‘At the hospital. Would you like me to bring her to you?’

‘No.’ Giorgos turned away from the screen with speed. ‘I will go to the hospital.’

‘Sir?’ The officer looked startled.

Giorgos shook his head. As if he could trust any of his security team to deal with this situation, given they’d lost Eleni and not even told him for the better part of the day? No.

No.

This needed urgency, delicacy and above all control—the one thing Giorgos had in abundance. He needed to do the interrogation himself. And he’d extract every ounce of information he could from her. By whatever method was necessary.

‘Bring my car,’ he ordered. ‘Immediately.’

* * *

‘You shouldn’t be working late on a Friday night.’ The junior doctor leaned over Kassie—too close—with a winning smile. ‘You should be coming to dinner with me.’

Kassie took a breath, then answered with well-practised firm but dismissive politeness and eased back from his breach of her personal space. ‘I still have half an hour on my shift.’

And she’d be on the ward for at least another hour afterwards. She had too much paperwork to catch up on. Never mind that it was Friday night.

‘I have a booking at a very nice restaurant.’

‘And of course you don’t want that booking going to waste.’ Kassie maintained her slight smile, despite the disappointment edging into her.

The guy was probably nice enough, but already her temperature had dropped at the thought. And he was only suggesting dinner—totally tame—anything more intimate would have had her freezing in a nanosecond. Sadly, it was going to be another no from her.

‘Fortunately there are plenty of others about to end their shift,’ she said.

‘But I don’t want to go out with any of them. Only you.’

And there was a line she’d heard before. ‘You don’t even know me,’ she pointed out gently.

But he’d heard about her—she knew that.

‘You know Kassie doesn’t date anyone in the hospital,’ Zoe, one of the nurses, piped up with a smile, quickly shooting Kassie a glance of pure sisterhood solidarity. ‘Why don’t you ask Terese? She’s super-fun and a great dancer.’

Super-fun and a great dancer. Two things Kassie wasn’t.

The doctor looked at Kassie, but she avoided his gaze by studying the chart she was carrying, happy to let Zoe rescue her.

He finally turned. ‘What about you?’ he asked Zoe. ‘What are your plans tonight?’

Zoe shrugged and her smile turned coquettish. ‘You tell me.’

He smiled back. ‘Half an hour at the main entrance. I’ll be waiting.’ He sent Kassie a smug glance and strode down the corridor.

The nurse giggled before he was entirely out of earshot and turned to Kassie. ‘Are you sure you didn’t want to go out with him, Kassie?’ she asked. ‘He’s totally hot.’

‘Dr Hot is all yours.’ Kassie sighed deeply. ‘And thank you.’

‘Oh, no—thank you! I’m delighted to take him off your hands.’ Reassured, Zoe giggled again. ‘I just don’t understand why you don’t date any of them. If I were you I’d—’

‘Be getting back to my work—which is what I’m going to do,’ Kassie interrupted swiftly with a firm smile.

But she appreciated Zoe’s assistance. It wasn’t worth the embarrassment of trying to date any more. She just didn’t feel things the way normal people did. But that was fine. She’d long since accepted it and chosen to focus on building her career.

Zoe had turned away and Kassie became conscious of the nurse’s sudden silence. In fact the entire ward was abnormally silent. The gentle bubbling hum of soft conversation had ceased. A prickle rasped down her spine and she turned around to see what the issue was.

‘Good evening.’

A man stood right in front of her. As she stared up into his face her lips parted but she remained wordless—silenced by the hard glow of his striking green eyes and the furiously cold glare he was directing her way. Dazedly she recognised that this tall, imposing figure wasn’t just anyone. She was used to the King’s sister, Princess Eleni, visiting the hospital, but not King Giorgos himself.

How long had he been standing there? Had he heard all that conversation? To be caught out talking dating by anyone was mortifying—but by the King? Why was he here at all? Why hadn’t they been notified? Why hadn’t there been the usual security sweep before anyone royal arrived?

A billion thoughts flooded her feeble brain, but the one that her mind locked on to was the most banal and the most unbelievable—so handsome. King Giorgos was so incredibly handsome.

She’d lived here all her life but never seen the King up close before—and had certainly never imagined he’d be as good-looking in reality as he was in print. Impossibly, he was more so. As he towered over her she was conscious of his physicality—of the broad shoulders and muscled body that his perfectly tailored suit hinted at. It struck her that the immaculate stitching and fabric was nothing more than a fragile veneer, masking his raw masculinity. His dangerousness.

And where had that idiot thought come from?

She mentally slapped herself. So he was tall, dark and handsome? She knew that. Everyone knew that. So what? More importantly, where was everyone? Where was her ward manager? She tore her gaze from his to see Zoe a short distance away, walking with a uniformed soldier who must have accompanied the King.

‘Don’t you know who I am?’ he asked.

Her attention snapped back to the column of masculinity blocking her path. Of course she knew who he was.

‘Yes, I do,’ she muttered breathlessly, instantly mortified by the brevity of her answer. ‘Sir,’ she added. ‘I mean, Your Highness.’

Oh, hell, was she flustered? Kassie was never flustered.

He was still staring at her. His piercing green gaze narrowed, deepening his frown to appear even more disapproving than before. Another prickle rippled down her spine—and it was not only awareness, it was edged with something else. A foreign kind of anger kindled. What was he waiting for? Was he expecting her to curtsey? Bend her knees and scrape the floor? Roll over before him?

But then a sudden image sprang to her mind—of herself on her back and him arching over her—sensual, inappropriate and so unexpected and shocking she gasped softly.

His gaze sharpened. ‘Will you show me around the ward?’ he asked with stinging sarcasm, as if he shouldn’t have had to.

The last thing she wanted to do was spend another second in his company when her dormant sensuality had decided to spark up—and malfunction.

She cleared her throat, panicking. ‘Is there anything in particular you would like to see?’

Why on earth would he want a tour, last thing on a Friday? And, crucially, how quickly could she get this over with so she could step outside and examine the fact that she’d just had a flash of an X-rated fantasy for the first time in her life—ever? A totally alien heat flooded her body.

‘I’d like to understand what my sister likes to see when she visits.’

Kassie tried to pull on a sympathetic smile and get her mind back on track. ‘We missed the Princess today.’

‘You usually see her.’ He was coldly confirming a fact more than asking a question.

‘Every week.’ Kassie nodded, happy for the distraction. ‘Is she well?’

The icy expression in his eyes instantly slid into steely hostility. She stared back at him, stunned by the animosity so apparent in him. Had the question been rude? Should she not have asked? Why not show concern for the poor woman?

The temperature plummeted as the silence stretched, tearing at her equanimity and customary conciliatory manner.

‘The Princess likes to spend time with the younger patients,’ she said crisply, deciding to end this as quickly and as politely as possible. Fortunately she was experienced at building barriers to distance herself and end conversations early. ‘Most of them are having their dinner and will then be prepared for sleep.’

‘Are you saying this is an inconvenient time?’ His query would have been perfectly polite if it hadn’t been for that slight edge in his voice.

‘It’s outside of customary visiting hours,’ she replied, with as much diplomacy as she could summon.

‘Then let’s not disturb them.’

Relief bloomed in Kassie’s chest and she managed an actual small smile as she waited for His Arrogance to depart. But he too waited, watching her far too closely. His lashes lowered and he lazily looked her up and down. She stiffened. Was he really looking at her body? The King?

Men had been looking at her body since she was a young teenager and had first developed the curves that so many guys seemed instantly to equate with sexual appetite. They looked, they made assumptions, they made passes. And then they made slurs, because she didn’t respond the way they wanted. So, as always, she froze at this visual inspection—but stared hard back at him, glaring to convey her anger at his audacity.

He ended his trailing inspection of her and met her gaze directly, his green eyes imprisoning her attention. She couldn’t have torn it away if she’d tried. And, deep within her, an unexpected kernel of energy popped—a spark that set her nerves to smoulder. And then another. Suddenly every muscle tightened, coiling with kinetic energy. Her body simmered.

Ordinarily Kassie had no flight-or-fight mode—she simply froze. But now? Now she felt primed to act.

He wasn’t anything like his serene sister—a sweet woman who liked to laugh and draw pictures for the patients. There was no laughter in him—only leashed energy. She could almost feel waves of emotion rolling off him—impatience barely concealed. It didn’t seem right for such a big man to stand so still. He was like a predator about to attack. His fiery gaze trained on hers.

She was clearly going crazy. She didn’t get flustered in the presence of royals or other supposedly important people. She didn’t get overwhelmed. She didn’t get struck speechless. And she certainly didn’t start thinking about sex. Always she remained cool. More than cool. Outright frosty.

She knew very well that in the doctors’ ranks she was famed for her frigidity. That was the only reason why that guy had come to try his luck with her just before. And she’d rejected him—just as she’d rejected every one of the others who’d heard about her and who’d come to ask her on a date. It was no longer about her as a person, but her as a challenge. Rejection from her was a rite of passage for new recruits.

‘How else may I help you?’ she asked, her throat dry.

‘I require your assistance,’ he said curtly.

‘You need a physiotherapist?’

Insanely, the thought of touching him was...not what she’d expected. No, the thought of touching him made the skin beneath her uniform sizzle rather than chill.

Startled by her own stunning inconsistency, Kassie quickly denied him. ‘I’m sure there’s someone with more experience who can assist—’

‘It’s you I want,’ he snapped.

She flinched. Want? What did he mean by ‘want’?

She stared up at him, transfixed by the total derailment of her thoughts. By what she thought she could read in the banked heat of his green eyes. Was this some kind of weird pick-up? Because if it was this was worse than any of the attempts she’d been subjected to in the past.

Mortified, she felt as if acid was burning a hole right through her pride.

‘Want for what?’ She couldn’t even speak properly—her voice was reduced to a whisper—but her words were rude.

Because it wasn’t quite her pride that was burning—it was something deeper than that. Something more complicated. Had he heard the rumours about her? Was he here to try his luck?

Impossibly, he looked even more remote. ‘It is a delicate matter.’

Somehow her brain conflated ‘delicate’ with intimate. Another whisper of a vision—of being close to him—scattered her remaining rationality to the four winds.

Was she blushing? She never blushed. Never responded to any suggestion of closeness with anything other than revulsion.

‘In what...?’ She paused and cleared her throat to force herself to continue, repeating her question. ‘In what way do you want me?’

He had not lifted his unyielding stare from her face and she knew he was watching the heated colour mottling her skin. Too late she realised that he knew. He saw right thought her and knew the appalling direction her thoughts had taken. And too late she realised the innuendo so blatantly obvious in the question she’d so innocently asked.

‘I’m not about to act inappropriately with you,’ he said, very slowly and softly. ‘I do have a modicum of self-control.’

He had self-control? Did that mean he wanted to act inappropriately with her? She was so shocked she simply couldn’t speak.

He took a step closer, his voice lowering further still. ‘You need to come to the palace. My assistant will bring you there immediately.’

No. Every instinct warned her against being alone with him. Because even being with him here in public like this was causing a reaction within her that wasn’t normal. Not for her.

Emotion surged—fury coalesced with fear and summoned rebellion. She didn’t care who he was. She wasn’t going to blindly do as she was told.

‘I don’t get into cars with strangers,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘I don’t go anywhere without knowing why.’

He regarded her steadily, that arrogant tilt curling his lips. ‘Are you defying the express orders of your King?’

She sucked in a breath and replied before thinking clearly. ‘Are you abusing your position of power to control me?’

His mouth opened and then closed. His nostrils flared as he exhaled. ‘Yes,’ he said with carefully controlled quietness. ‘In this situation I will do whatever it takes to get what I need from you.’

This time her jaw dropped. ‘I don’t see that there’s anything I can do—’

‘But you don’t see everything, do you?’ he said sharply. ‘You don’t know.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘We haven’t the time to waste—’

‘Then put me in chains,’ she snapped. ‘That’s the only way you’ll get me to leave with you.’

Her defiance shocked her. She’d never stood up to anyone so overtly. She worked hard and did as she was told—kept out of trouble and tried to stay invisible to men. But the arrogance of this man was bringing out a side she’d not known she had. Not a good one.

Determinedly she held his stare—and something flickered in his green eyes. She realised he was imagining it—her in chains—and he was enjoying the vision. The heat swamping her now was intolerable, and she dragged in a searing breath as wayward nerves deep within her body fizzed into life.

But suddenly he straightened, and in a blink that cold hostility returned to his expression.

‘I need your help with a personal matter,’ he said irritably. ‘That is all I am prepared to discuss while we are in a public place. Does that satisfy your safety concerns?’

She was lost for words. How could she possibly help him with a personal matter?

His gaze narrowed. ‘Have I given you reason not to trust me?’

‘I don’t trust anyone,’ she answered honestly.

Not intimately. And she certainly didn’t trust him. King Giorgos had a good reputation—he was serious, intense, and it was known that he worked hard and long hours—but that edginess he carried, and the unexpected, unexplained demand he was making...

Her body was sending out all kinds of chaos signals—the shivers down her spine, the speed of her pulse, the breathlessness, the heat. Maybe she was coming down with something. But, no, in her gut she didn’t trust anyone—not him, and now she was beginning not to trust herself.

His smile was slow and not very reassuring. ‘No doubt you have your reasons.’

Of course she did. ‘Several,’ she replied coldly.

He offered nothing more than a dismissive shrug. ‘Regardless of your hesitation, we need to leave.’

She shook her head. ‘I have to finish my shift.’

‘Leaving a few minutes early will make little difference. Your manager has already been informed.’

Shocked, she stared up at him, registering his planning. He hadn’t come to the hospital to visit patients and to spread cheer.

‘I came here for you.’ He quietly confirmed her thinking. ‘And I’m not leaving without you. If I have to get my security team to forcibly remove you, then that’s what I will do.’

‘No, you won’t,’ she challenged him—because this she did know. ‘You care too much about what people think.’

King Giorgos was remote and dignified and there’d never been a breath of scandal about him. He was Giorgos the Perfect, while his sister was Eleni the Pure.

He blinked rapidly. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You’re the hard-working, serious King who can do no wrong.’

‘You do realise you’re insulting that “hard-working, serious King” to his face?’

‘Because he is doing wrong. You can’t make me go with you.’

‘I can—because this is too important. We are leaving,’ he ordered. ‘Walk with me now.’

‘You’re serious?’

He took another step closer—a shade too far into her personal space. ‘Are you going to make me get the chains? Because if that’s really what you want, then of course I wouldn’t dream of disappointing a lady.’

His sneer was mortifying. That humiliating blush burned again. She hadn’t meant it about the chains, yet here he was implying that she was doing this only to...to flirt? She never flirted.

What was wrong with her? This man made all the rules—he owned the nation...his face was on the currency—and she was snapping at him like some schoolgirl with an immature crush.

‘Of course not.’ She avoided his eyes and muttered contritely, ‘I’ll just get my bag and then we can leave.’

She was startled when he kept pace with her as she went into the small office.

‘Why are you following me?’

‘I’m not giving you a chance to hide anything or any time alone to contact him.’

Contact who? She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

‘Just get your things,’ he muttered.

It finally dawned on her that this had to be a case of mistaken identity—he’d confused her with someone else and there was nothing she could help him with. She was nobody. She did nothing but work at the hospital and then go home to read up about more work. But she’d go with his assistant now and they’d soon realise she wasn’t the person the King sought. Then they’d bring her back here and all would be forgotten.

Reassured by this reasoning, Kassie grabbed her satchel and slung the strap over her shoulder.

She almost had to run to keep pace with him moving through the hospital. He’d lost patience and wasn’t slow. She stepped into the sleek black car idling right outside the back entrance. To her surprise King Giorgos walked around and got into the seat on the other side.

‘I thought I was going with your assistant?’ she said. She’d been looking forward to a quick resolution.

He directed a quelling look at her as the car glided off, taking them away. ‘Do you ever stop questioning?’

‘Not when there’s this much to be questioned. Where are you taking me? And why?’

‘I’m the one who has the questions, Ms Marron.’

The edge in his tone forced her to regard him directly. Something lurked in the back of his eyes—a streak of wildness that surprised her.

But it wasn’t entirely a surprise. From what she’d seen of him at a distance—in the news and on the television—King Giorgos had always appeared to her like a wild man forced into refined clothes. It wasn’t that he wasn’t civilised—of course he was—but it was as if he might break free from the polished uniform at any moment. He was too elemental to be contained.

Idiot.

She scoffed at her wayward thinking. She was just unused to a man his size. He was taller than average, with a powerful set to his extremely broad shoulders. Lean and muscled, his physique and demeanour were imposing. And this close she could see his hair was a little bit too long, and a faint edge of stubble showed on his jaw, adding to the impression of edginess—of a man chafing at his constraints. And right now he was clearly inwardly struggling to contain a fierce emotion.

But the thought that King Giorgos might be struggling with latent rebelliousness was pure imagination. This was King Giorgos. The man had been King since his late teens—earnest and capable beyond his years. Yet suddenly all she could do was think about that streak of wildness and the size of his muscular thighs and the promise of physical power...

What was wrong with her? She swallowed, but it didn’t ease the dryness in her throat.

She realised that he was silently scrutinising her as much as she was him. But he had that hostility in his eyes again, and a moody set to his jaw. His whole positioning was tense. Something was off. Something was wrong. And she had no idea how she was supposed to help.

‘Is it Princess Eleni?’ she asked softly.

He sat very still. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘She missed her visit today. She never misses her visits.’

He watched her...waiting. Something swirled in the atmosphere between them. The luxurious car suddenly felt cramped—as if she were too close to him, as if he could see into her mind. She felt compelled to fill the silence—anything to deflect this pull she felt, pushing her nearer to him.

‘She was unwell last week,’ she added, licking her dry lips.

‘Unwell in what way?’

Foreboding slithered down her spine at the ice in his voice.

‘She was dizzy. She said she’d had a bug recently.’ She frowned as she swallowed again. ‘Is she okay?’

If she wasn’t then the King ought to be summoning a doctor, not a physiotherapist.

‘Did anyone else notice that she was unwell?’ he asked. ‘Did anyone ask about her?’

Kassie shook her head—then froze. Damon, her half-brother, had appeared just after the Princess had walked away. He’d asked her who she’d been talking to. Now she thought about it, Damon had been too curious—and stunned when he’d learned the Princess’s identity. Why had he been so surprised?

‘Ms Marron?’ the King prompted.

Chills whipped across her skin, chafing where heat had burned only moments ago. Perhaps this wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps there was something very wrong. She barely knew her half-brother, Damon, but she wasn’t about to throw him under a bus. Not until she understood exactly what was going on.

King Giorgos’s expression hardened as she remained silent. He knew she was holding something back. How did he know that?

‘You attended a ball at the palace a few weeks ago,’ he said coldly.

‘Yes.’ There was no point in lying—but she didn’t need to offer any more information than necessary, right?

‘Why?’

Her heart thumped. ‘It was for charity. For the hospital.’

‘But you didn’t go with the hospital staff. You attended as the guest of someone else.’

She hadn’t been one of the lucky staff to win a lottery invitation, but Damon had taken her—the only thing she’d let herself take from the half-brother she’d met only a few months before. Damon had seemed preoccupied when they’d left the ball, but she’d been too deep in thought herself to notice much; she didn’t really know him well enough to ask if he was okay. She should have asked.

But then Damon had asked that random question—more than once. ‘Did you see that woman in the blue wig and black mask? Do you know who she is?’

Kassie hadn’t even seen who he’d meant—there’d been plenty of women in wigs...it had been a masquerade ball, after all. It could have been anyone, right? But not Princess Eleni. Everyone knew that the Princess hadn’t attended the ball that night because she’d been unwell with a migraine.

But once more Kassie remembered the look of utter astonishment on Damon’s face when he’d learned that Princess Eleni was the visitor he’d overheard at the hospital that day a few weeks later.

‘You see my sister every week. I hear she likes to talk to you?’

She hadn’t answered King Giorgos’s earlier question. She realised now he hadn’t needed her to because he already knew. Just as he already knew the answer to this question too.

‘I take her on her tour of the ward, yes.’

‘And when she was unwell last week...?’

‘She didn’t stay. No one else was aware she was unwell.’ None of the other staff, nor the other patients.

‘No one?’ he pressed, astute and seeking. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

She panicked, desperate to deflect his questioning. ‘Your sister might put up with your bullying, but I’m not going to.’

He stiffened. ‘That’s what she told you? That I bully her?’

She couldn’t hold his scorching gaze, and was unable to lie. ‘No. I never spoke with her about anything personal. She never mentioned you.’

Her foolish eyes had minds of their own and they couldn’t resist looking into his again. He kept watching her, and suddenly nothing else seemed to register or matter. Nothing but this moment in which the world tilted, shifting something within her. Something deep and profound and frightening.

She forced herself to glance away, but he reached out and touched her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. There was no veil over his expression now. He was lethally, icily angry.

‘Tell me everything you know,’ he ordered.

‘Or what?’ That deep curl of fear forced the defiance from her—a primitive instinct to hold him at bay even though she knew it was rude, perhaps wrong. ‘You’re going to torture me?’

‘It’s a tempting thought,’ he muttered. ‘And you seem to like the idea of chains. But I can think of a better way to extract the information I need.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘A more fitting way.’

She couldn’t breathe. His words—his promise—sucked all the air from her lungs.

The opening of the car door startled her. Only then did she realise that they were inside the palace grounds. The large iron gates had automatically closed behind them. Locking her in.

‘Come into my palace,’ he demanded, curtly exiting the car to stalk ahead of her.

‘Said the spider to the fly...’ she muttered beneath her breath in annoyance at his peremptory tone and total lack of manners.

He stopped walking and spun so quickly she almost bumped into him from behind. Damn, it seemed the man had supersonic hearing.

‘You think I’m going to make you my prisoner?’ he asked, so softly that all illusions of her personal safety were shattered.

King Giorgos was pure predator and she’d never felt in so much danger. Nor had she ever felt such primitive exhilaration.

Suddenly she wanted to sprint from him. Instead, as always, she froze.

‘You think I’m going to eat you?’ he added with the slightest huskiness.

It wasn’t the sexual innuendo that shocked her but her sudden sensual response to it. Another of those incredible flushes burned her at the blatant carnality of his taunt.

‘I think I’m right to be wary.’ She pushed the words past the croak in her throat.

‘Because you’re guilty as sin?’

Kassie squared her shoulders and made herself look directly into his shadowed, judging eyes. ‘What exactly is it you think I’m guilty of?’