CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I’m sorry about this unexpected move,” Darias said softly, once he’d closed the door behind them. “I suspect my mom was behind it. She has a will of iron under her soft exterior.”
“I do find it weird that people are handling our possessions without our knowledge. Possibly even snooping through them.” She wondered, not for the first time, if she should tell him about the contract but chickened out again. Besides, despite Darias’s reassurances that it wasn’t, the room might be bugged.
“I’m used to it, but it is annoying. I’m sorry.” His adorably contrite expression stole her heart. Not that he hadn’t stolen it already.
“No worries. I signed up for it.” She grinned and tried to sound lighthearted. “I wonder where they put my phone charger. I ran out of battery some time during the ceremonies.”
“Here, use mine.” He pulled one from the nightstand drawer as if he’d put it there himself. “At least with years of experience I know where they’ll put my stuff.” He plugged in her phone and put it on a beautiful inlaid dresser.
The room was huge, even bigger than the one they’d shared before. Most two-story houses in New Jersey would fit comfortably inside it. The furnishings were very elaborate, polished wood with gold inlay that was probably real gold and gorgeous oil paintings of animals on the walls—probably some ancestors’ cherished pets.
Her phone started to make noises as messages arrived, but she ignored it because Darias wrapped his arms around her waist and started to kiss her. Her belly melted, and her knees grew weak as emotion crept over her. All the tension and anxiety and excitement of the day evaporated out of her like steam under the heat of his kiss.
“Thank you for being my queen,” he whispered between kisses.
His queen. She was! At least for now. The conflicting feelings made her chest ache.
“You’re welcome. I’m enjoying the experience.” A strange thing to say, at least if they had been a real couple.
Darias undressed her slowly, tantalizing her skin with his lips and tongue. “I’ve been waiting all day and night to do this.” She wrestled with the buttons on his uniform, fingers impatient. It was hard to concentrate when he blew softly into her ear, sparking a cascade of sensation.
He helped her get his clothes off, and they made hungry, impatient love. She forgot all about the strange bedroom and the contract and all the strangers she’d smiled at today, and lost herself in Darias’s arms. Afterward she lay there, wishing the moment could go on and on. Lying with her head on his chest, she could imagine their relationship slowly evolving into a true marriage where they shared their thoughts and dreams and grew old together as equals.
Then she woke up.
Her phone, now charged, vibrated angrily on the dresser across the room. Reluctant, she climbed out of bed—where was her robe? She had no idea. She walked across the room naked and retrieved it. Darias was still asleep, relaxed and beautiful with a big muscular arm flung across the pillow above his head.
She unplugged the phone and hurried back to bed and under the covers. Fifty-three text messages? Ouch. And thirteen phone calls. She decided to start with the calls. The first was from Viola, a college friend, who chastised her for not inviting her to the wedding. For the first time she felt bad that she hadn’t invited any of her friends.
If it had been a real wedding, she would have. But it wasn’t. How could she have them travel halfway across the world and probably buy an expensive gift when this whole wedding was just a charade to allow Darias to become king?
The next message was from another friend, from high school this time, first congratulating her warmly, then reminding her that they’d always promised to be each other’s maid of honor.
Really? That must have been at least eight years ago. Did people even use a matron of honor these days? The only friend of hers who’d actually got married had an informal ceremony in Central Park and encouraged nearby strangers to join in and throw organic confetti.
Another message was from her Aunt Sallie, who lived in Nevada and whom she hadn’t seen in five years since Sallie hadn’t been able to attend her mom’s funeral due to a cruise she’d already booked. She was also mad about not being invited. Apparently, the wedding had been all over the news media and now everyone she’d ever met was mad at her.
She was ready to delete the next message unheard, but it turned out to be from The Fountains. Her blood pressure spiked when it began with “I don’t wish to alarm you but…” and went on to explain that her brother had gone missing the previous evening.
Gone missing? Weren’t residents under close observation? It was a facility filled with addicts, whose thoughts habitually revolved around how to score their next fix. She sat up, pulled the covers around her and called back. She realized on the third ring that it was probably about three A.M. in New York right now, but someone answered. “What happened to Jonas?”
She heard an inhale. “I’m afraid that he went missing sometime right after dinner. He said he was heading back to his room to get something, then the nurse noticed he was missing at night check.”
“Did you call the police?”
There was a pause. “Uh, no. If he’s involved in something illegal, he could be arrested and charged.”
“Of course.” How did her brother get tangled up in drugs? Especially when he’d grown up knowing that his dad died of an overdose. Anger flashed through her, followed closely by fear. It was The Fountains job to help him, but once he’d walked off the property they might feel no further responsibility. “Is anyone looking for him?”
“Of course. We have someone who specializes in finding patients who go AWOL, and he quietly interviews them while they’re here to figure out where they would be mostly likely to go at a time like this. We usually find them within twenty-four hours.”
“Great. That’s great to hear. Is there anything I can do to help?” She felt powerless and frustrated that she was thousands of miles away. It was not like she could just get on a plane. She had a job to do here, and she couldn’t have Darias’s family find out that thanks to her there was now a junkie in the extended family.
“Don’t worry too much. We’ll keep you posted.”
She hung up and noticed that Darias was now propped on one elbow watching her.
“Your brother left The Fountains?”
She nodded. “I’m scared. My dad OD’d when I was seven.” She wanted to remind him that Jonas was her last living family member, but Darias might find that odd or rude, since she was now surrounded by his entire large family.
Except that they weren’t really family when it was only for one year.
He stroked her arm. “They’re the best of the best. They’ll take find him.”
“And every girl I ever said hello to is mad that I didn’t invite her to my wedding.” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers as she said wedding. “It’s weird that I can’t tell them the truth.” She hadn’t really thought about how people she rarely saw would react. It truly hadn’t occurred to her that they’d even find out. Obviously, she just wasn’t that smart. “I guess I didn’t realize how much press the wedding would get. Why are they only finding out about it now?”
“People don’t really care that much about Altaleone. A lot of them have never heard of it. I suppose the media outlets went for a two-for-one combo package.”
“And now I have fifty-three text messages that I’m afraid to read.”
Darias laughed. “You’ll soon learn not to give your number to anyone that you don’t really like.”
“They’ll probably all feel smug when the press announces our breakup a year from now.” She tried to sound chirpy. She realized as she said it that she was hoping Darias would protest and say that—
She didn’t know exactly what she was hoping for, but Darias didn’t say anything. He looked at the sheets. Then at a large oil painting of a brindle greyhound.
“At least the coronation went smoothly. After the firework incident, that is.” She babbled, saying anything to fill the awkward silence she’d created.
“I need to go find out what they’ve learned about the kid who did it.” Darias propelled himself from the bed, probably glad of an excuse to get away from her.
She needed to learn to be happy with what she had—right now. Nothing lasts forever. Even people entering real marriages would probably end up splitting up and shedding tears sooner or later. She should be glad that at least she knew how this romance would end.
Darias was a ladies’ man. Yes, she might be his current “muse,” but she wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. And she’d better not forget that again.
Darias tugged on some clothes smart enough to encounter whatever dignitaries had stayed overnight and headed downstairs. Emma’s statement—about their impending breakup—had rattled him. He wasn’t even sure why. Wasn’t that exactly how he planned it?
Maybe it was all going too smoothly. He hadn’t expected her to end up in his bed so quickly. Or maybe he had and was disconcerted that he’d been right.
“Good morning, darling!” His mom greeted him at the bottom of the stairs with a kiss.
“You’re glowing.”
“With happiness. Out of the ashes, you know? Now you need to get used to people calling you your majesty. Is Emma sleeping in?”
“No, she’s up. Just responding to phone messages. I’m sure she’ll be down soon. I’ll catch breakfast later. I want to meet with Gibran and get a bead on what happened yesterday.”
“Of course.” He hated the shadow of worry that passed over his mom’s beautiful face. “Do take care.”
“I will.” He dialed Gibran as he walked out to his car and a staffer opened the door for him. “Any news?”
“His lawyers are arguing that it was a youthful prank.”
“He’s not that much of a youth. At least college age. Is he still in custody?”
“Yes, but only because this is a monarchy and he attacked the king. Your lawyers tell me that it would otherwise be a misdemeanor since no one was hurt.”
“Property was damaged. I’m sure the carriage has some scrapes. And my wife was scared.” Protective rage filled him at the thought that Emma could have been hurt.
“Can you charge him with treason?” Gibran’s voice was grim. “That may be the best way to hold him.”
“And scare the truth out of him. Treason carries the death penalty. Of course it hasn’t been used in recent centuries. If the lawyers say it will work, then do it. I want to talk to him now.”
“He’s in the old cells at the armory. We thought it best to keep him away from the general jail population.”
“Good. I’ll be right there.” It was probably quicker to walk, but he was already in the car, so he drove and parked on the street outside the monolithic stone armory that dated back to the late middle ages.
The prisoner was in a simple stone cell with a built-in bench, and he sat on the bench as if waiting for his coffee at Starbucks, glancing up with seeming disinterest as Darias approached.
“I know you. I know your father is president of the Lesset Bank Group and that your sister, Lana, just graduated from Harvard. I’ve skied with your brother, Werner. Our fathers hunted together. What were you doing?” He didn’t really expect an answer. Gibran told them he hadn’t spoken except to his lawyers.
“Delivering a message.”
“Oh?” Darias tried not to look too interested.
“You’ve been invited to join the Cross of Blood.”
“I have no interest in joining some ancient society with bizarre rituals.” That might be behind the murders of my father and grandmother.
“I think you’ll find that you can’t not join.”
“I think you’ll find that you will soon be charged with high treason.” Darias stared at him, unblinking. Why would the son of a wealthy noble risk imprisonment and death? Usually, the reasons for crime could be traced back to either money, or power.
“What is the main objective of the Cross of Blood?”
“Join it and you will find out.” The young man looked relaxed and confident, as if he’d just been challenged to a game of backgammon, not threatened with execution.
“What’s in it for me?” Apart from possible death.
“Your destiny.”
Darias sneered and decided he’d heard enough. He turned and walked back past the armed guards. Unfortunately, it appeared he would indeed have to join the Cross of Blood.