The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12. Кейт Хьюит
happened so quickly that night…
After, he’d said, “You have the right to know that I have no diseases,” and she, embarrassed by the conversation, had thought of telling him that she couldn’t possibly have any because she’d never been with a man until him, but it had been easier to say that she had none, either.
“I assume you’re on the pill,” he’d added.
Well, of course, she wasn’t. But it had been the safe time of her cycle so she’d just nodded instead of answering and left it at that.
Maria groaned and buried her face in her hands. She thought of all the times she’d silently wondered how her mother could have made so many devastating mistakes. Now, she knew one answer was that making mistakes when you were swept away by passion was pathetically easy.
And all the signs she’d ignored! Nausea. Wooziness. Exhaustion. Not getting her period. That should have been the most damning evidence of all, but she’d never been completely regular…
Maybe you didn’t see what you didn’t want to see. Maybe it was just that simple.
She wanted to weep. To scream. To bang her fists against the wall. That she, of all women, should have tumbled into the age-old trap…
She knotted her hands in her lap. Took deep, calming breaths. Hysteria wouldn’t change anything. Besides, there was no time for this now. The necklace. The summons from the king. Those things came first. She had responsibilities. To the queen. To herself.
She dressed quickly. Black trousers, a black cashmere sweater and, over it, a pale pink jacket. Black heels. Alex had followed his gift of the emerald silk dress with what seemed like an endless wardrobe, ordered from the pricey designer boutiques in Ellos and delivered to the mansion.
“I can’t let you buy me things like this,” she’d protested, and he’d kissed her to silence.
“I love giving you gifts, agapi mou,” he’d said, and because she’d known he meant it, because nothing had turned out as she’d anticipated and instead of only being in Alex’s bed she was also in his life, she’d accepted the clothes and wore them when they went out to dinner, to the theater, to the casino.
Now, the rack of expensive outfits in the dressing room—his dressing room—was a mocking reminder that these were not simply gifts, they were proof she was his mistress.
And mistresses did not get pregnant. They did not have babies. They did not forge real, lasting relationships that led to a joint future, especially with a man like Alex. A prince of the Royal House of Karedes…
“Stop it,” she said sharply, and blanked her mind to everything but the meeting with King Aegeus. She had worked years for this kind of professional honor.
Right now, that was all that mattered.
Weeks before, Alex had arranged for his limo to be at her disposal.
“Don’t trust me to drive, hmm?” she’d said, laughing.
“Not on these roads, glyka mou,” he’d said, and she’d admitted that was for the best. A born and bred New Yorker, she’d learned to drive but she didn’t do it often or well.
Today would most certainly not have been a day to test her skill.
The driver had apparently been told where to take her. He drove through the palace gates to a rear courtyard where an equerry greeted her and led her through a maze of corridors to a half-opened door in a gloomy alcove.
“Ms. Santos, sir.”
The king was seated at a small table, a velvet drawstring bag before him. A chair was drawn up opposite his. Maria blinked. Were these the royal vaults? She’d expected something different. Bright lights. Security cameras. Guards. Not a small, plain, ill-lit room.
“Your Majesty,” she began, but Aegeus cut her off with an imperious wave. Another wave dismissed the equerry. Aegeus pointed at the other chair.
“Ms. Santos. Sit down.”
His tone was hard, a direct contrast to his looks. She was surprised by his pallor and the throb of a vein in his forehead.
“Are you—are you all right, sir?”
Aegeus glared at her. “Are you a physician as well as my son’s mistress? Oh, don’t look so shocked, Ms. Santos. I’m not a fool. I am aware of everything that happens in my kingdom.”
“Then you are aware that I’m here as the designer of Queen Tia’s birthday gift, sir, nothing else.”
She knew she’d overstepped the boundary between commoner and king but the last thing she would let happen today was a discussion of her relationship with Alex.
To her surprise, Aegeus laughed. “I can understand Alex’s infatuation. A woman with beauty and intelligence and spirit …” His smile tilted. “What man could resist such temptation?”
Maria drew a deep breath. “Your Majesty. The crown …”
Aegeus pushed the velvet bag into the center of the table but kept his hand protectively on it.
“Normally, it is kept in a display case along with the Crown Jewels and, of course, the original Crown of Adamas.”
“Yes, sir. To tell the truth, I’m surprised that—”
“Your surprise does not interest me, Ms. Santos. I’ve arranged to meet you here so we could keep things as simple and private as possible.” He raised his wrist, pointedly looked at his watch and then at her. “Five minutes. Then your time is up.”
Maria nodded and reached for the bag. The vein in the king’s forehead seemed to leap as he lifted his hand and sat back.
She loosened the drawstring and lifted the Crown of Aristo from it.
Her breath caught. The crown was magnificent.
Brilliant white diamonds shone like star fire even in the dim light. Yes, she thought happily, yes, they’d match the ones in the necklace perfectly, but it was the fantastic center stone that dazzled the eye. The half of the pure pink Stefani diamond King Christos had bequeathed to his son, Aegeus, and to the kingdom of Aristo, dominated the crown.
“Beautiful,” Maria said softly.
Aegeus nodded. “Yes,” he said brusquely, and reached for the crown.
“Wait,” Maria said quickly, pulling it back.
He looked up. The vein in his forehead looked even darker than before. “You forget yourself, Ms. Santos.”
“I meant… Wait. Please, Your Majesty.”
“For what? You’ve seen what you came to see.”
“I want a closer look at the pink diamond, sir. To check its shade against …” Maria took a small silk bag from the leather tote she always carried when handling gems. She opened it, and the pair of pink diamonds, one of which would become the centerpiece of Tia’s necklace, tumbled onto the table. “To check it against these.”
The king hardly looked at the stones. “Either will match. The colors are the same.”
Maria shook her head. “Actually, they’re not.”
“Of course they are. And your five minutes are—”
But Maria had stopped listening. A trickle of ice water seemed to slip down her spine. She looked at the single light bulb in its overhead socket.
“Is there …?” She cleared her throat. “Is there a way to get more light in this room, sir?”
“No.”
“Surely we could take the crown into the display room?”
“Surely we could not,” Aegeus said coldly. “And I repeat, your time is—What are you doing?”
Maria’s