The Secret King. C.J. Miller
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