When Angus noticed that Siobhan was on the bridge, he panicked. It wasn’t ready for traffic—not even pedestrian traffic.

“I have to go,” he was already running in Siobhan’s direction, and then he saw her falling and he ran the last few yards as hard and fast as he could.

How to save her from falling without sending us both over the edge? If he could reach her in time, he still had a problem. Instinct took over. He had no awareness of planning it as he aimed for a vertical steel brace while reaching out for her at the same time. He felt his hand grasp hers, but did not notice any pain as the brace brought him to a dead stop.

She cried out as he pulled her against him roughly, his heart pounding in his ears. She was fine. She was in his arms, yet he felt as if he had just experienced his first heart attack.

The sweetness of her curves registered, and he gathered her in his arms. She was delicate, like an exquisite piece of china in need of protection. He didn’t think he’d ever held anything so fine. Careful, so careful, he wrapped his arms around her and held her against him, using his body as a shield against the world.

“Is she alright? Do we need to summon a physician?”

Angus ignored Mircea’s and Javert’s frantic questions behind them as he pulled back to look in Siobhan’s eyes, his hands refusing to budge from her body just yet. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head but he could see the stark terror in her eyes. “I…no, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, feeling the blood return to his own body. If she had fallen into that river, there would have been a good chance she would have been swept too far downstream before anyone had a chance to reach her. Her body would have smashed against the rocks violently. A cold sweat broke out over his body and Angus picked her up in his arms, needing to feel her close to him.

Pain flashed in his eyes and his lips tightened. She was already too close to him. And when people got close, they ended up dead. Every time he cared for someone they wound up dead. His father, Lilian, Innes. He didn’t want to lose Siobhan. He didn’t—couldn’t—lose another loved one. If he fell too much further he would never recover. He couldn’t lose her.

“Angus, I’m fine, I can walk,” she insisted as the small crowd that had formed, now parted for him to move through. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“What happened?” he asked instead, his voice still not as steady as he would like.

“I-I lost my balance,” she answered, her arm wrapping around his neck. “Please, put me down.”

He shook his head, the pounding in his ears starting to lessen somewhat. “Are you certain? Perhaps you shouldn’t walk so far without assistance.”

She sighed loudly. “Are you serious? I’m fine—better than I was before you came into my life.”

The corner of his mouth lifted and he looked at her, the rest of the terror leaving his body. She was fine. She was going to be fine. “I’m having the physician summoned as soon as we get back, Siobhan. I want you checked out.”

The frustration on her face was evident and Angus kept walking, wondering if she could feel the tremble in his hands under her body.

* * *

They failed to notice the woman on the other side of the bridge with an angry scowl on her face.

The woman couldn’t believe her bad luck—or was it the younger woman’s providence that had gotten in the way?

What irony, she hissed, mentally. She had failed to knock the King’s bride off the bridge, but only because the stupid woman was in the act of falling off by herself.

That wasn’t her agenda. She wanted to see the dragon humiliated, on his knees.

When a sudden cold clamminess broke out on her neck and back, dampening her shirt under her armpits, she reached into her skirt pocket. She’d anticipated that and had had her medicine prepared differently: in chewing gums, easily carried around and taken when necessary.

She popped one in her mouth. The taste was like almonds that were slightly off.

She chewed it, relishing it, and her heartbeat slowed to a ponderous rhythm, though she felt more excitement than she could remember. She hoped that with this dosage there would be no hallucinations.

Ah, and there went the mighty king, carrying his fiancée to the car, walking as if from a trance as Siobhan gestured and fumed at whatever he was saying to her.

Stubborn Siobhan wasn’t one to be led blindly, and she was no doubt demanding answers, ones that Angus clearly wasn’t providing.

She compared Angus to a bear chasing a butterfly.

The corners of her lips tilted up.

No, Angus was better than that—he was like a dragon with a rabbit twitching her tail in front of him.

Sooner or later, the dragon would attack.

She chortled thinking that it would be a great humiliation if the rabbit escaped him.

When Angus shut the car door, he stood for just a second, exhaling deeply, as if getting his bearings, running a shaking hand over his face, no doubt disbelieving he’d wed such an empty-headed woman.

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” she softly assured him. “It shan’t be for long.”

* * *

Angus had made good on his threat, and the doctor was there to examine her as soon as they arrived at his country house since he had ordered the helicopter to fly Dr. Singh—immediately—to his house.

She had merely slipped. She was fine, as she had assured him, and now the doctor could confirm it. As if she wasn’t able to be an authority on her own condition. He was the one who ran himself into a bridge and didn’t even know how badly he was hurt.

“Everything looks good, Siobhan.”

Siobhan looked over at Angus, who was holding his arm while watching Dr. Singh’s every move. “Thank you, doctor. I feel better than I have in quite some time.”

“Continue your walks but do not overdo it and make sure to keep away from bridges under construction.” Dr. Singh stepped back, peeling off his gloves as he did so. “Now, Your Majesty, if you please?”

Less than fifteen minutes after Angus had started the car, the throbbing in his shoulder and arm started, and by the time he was near his country house, he was sweating in pain. He had barely been able to drive the rest of the way.

“You should be in bed,” he said brusquely to Siobhan as she cut his shirt open for the doctor to examine him. “Not taking care of a big brute like me.”

One side of his chest and shoulder were already turning purple from where he had smashed himself against the post. “And you should not be traipsing around your country saving women from falling off bridges.”

She stepped back to allow Dr. Singh to examine Angus.

“First, I don’t traipse, and second—Devil take you, that hurts!” he shouted at the doctor.

“Of course, it does. I’ve yet to see a case of flesh beating steel. It’s always the reverse,” said Dr. Singh.

Siobhan regarded him sympathetically, knowing how he hated not being in control. Angus was always well-dressed and in command of himself. His very name connotated success, and power. None of that was consistent with finding himself on the bed, battered, bruised, forcibly divested of his clothing and with a doctor probing his hurting flesh.

In pain, he closed his eyes with a grunt.

“And second?” she prompted gently, bringing him back to his unfinished thought.

“You’re not women,” he said gruffly, his eyes still closed, as the doctor probed his shoulder and arm. “You’re my future wife.”

Siobhan’s heart twisted with painful sweetness. She wanted badly to comfort and cradle him. Instead she had to settle for kneeling beside him on the bed and stroking his chestnut hair very lightly. He pushed his head against the caress, like an affectionate wolf. Her palm moved along the side of his face to the firm, perfect line of his jaw.

“It seems okay,” Dr. Singh said, examining his other shoulder. “It’s not been dislocated but the tendon is strained. I want you to do a MRI tomorrow and be careful to make sure it heals properly. Ms. Faulkner, if you keep petting him like that, I’m sure he’ll recover in no time.”

Siobhan withdrew her hand sheepishly and Angus gave Dr. Singh a baleful glance.

* * *

“I’m going to bed. We’ve lots of work to do if we want to convince the people of Lektenstaten I am the right person to lead them for the next four years,” said Mircea. “Even though Angus is on our side, we can’t count on him to support us, and the people might see him not choosing me for Prime Minister not as an impartial choice, but as a rejection of our cause.”

“That might be so, but I am willing to bet he will help us if we need,” Javert replied, draining his wine and pushing back his chair to accompany Mircea and Claudia to the door. “That was quite a feat Angus performed today saving Siobhan. I thought he wouldn’t reach her in time.”

Claudia went to stand with her husband. “Our king is showing his true colors, maybe with Siobhan—”

“You are all too trusty,” scoffed Diamanta.

Mircea refrained from contradicting her, he knew Diamanta had her reasons for not trusting the Braxton-Lenox males. “I am just giving him the benefit of the doubt. See you tomorrow, Javert.”

Before Claudia could exit the house, Diamanta grabbed her arm. “Please, a moment, Claudia.”

“Of course,” she answered, giving her husband a look of what was to come when she returned. “Keep the bed warm, my darling.”

His heated gaze was all that she needed as an answer.

“I’ll retire, Mother. I have no need for women talk.” Javert dutifully kissed Diamanta’s cheek before exiting the room, leaving the two women alone.

“What is it that you wish to discuss?” Claudia asked the older woman when they were seated again.

Diamanta sighed, her fingers tracing the crystal on her glass. “The woman Angus brought. What do you know of her?”

“Not a great deal.” Claudia shrugged. “He seems infatuated with her though. She was very sweet and quiet, far unlike Innes was. Perhaps that was never a good match for him to begin with.”

“I would venture to say she holds something over him,” Diamanta said darkly. “Far more than his heart.”

Claudia laughed, taking a sip of her leftover wine before continuing. “Are you saying she has bewitched him?”

Diamanta pursed her lips. There were all sorts of bewitching from affairs of the heart to the sins of the flesh. She imagined young Siobhan had both over Angus.

“No more than I have done to Mircea, no doubt,” Claudia continued, her eyes warm from the amount of wine she had consumed. “I am happy that Angus has found someone that makes him happy, and I like her.”

“She had strange lines on her palms…” Diamanta’s gaze unfocused for a moment before she placed her hands on the table and stood up, her smile returning. “I hold you from your bed and your husband. Go on.”

“Good night, Diamanta,” Claudia said, as she stood and walked out of the room. Diamanta stayed behind, watching the fire as it danced merrily in the fireplace. Young Siobhan had her puzzled, appearing to be nothing but a generous soul who was infatuated with the king of Lektenstaten. There was love between them, even if they could not see it themselves.

She didn’t know what to do about that, or how it would play into the rising political discord with putting Mircea on top as the Prime Minister.

Which would happen in her lifetime.

* * *

“I have something to tell you.”

She looked at him, seeing a sparkle in his eye. “What?”

He gave her a smile, squeezing her hand with his. “I know I have taken you out of your comfort, away from the things you love and cherish the most. I know I haven’t been the easiest to contend with.”

“That is an understatement,” she interrupted with a laugh.

He shot her a look. “Will you let me finish without your interruptions?”

She leaned against him, breathing in his scent. Oh, how it made her heart race! “Go on.”

“I wish to give you back some of those happy things in your life, so I have purchased some goldsmith tools, and set an office for you in a wing of the palace that wasn’t being used.”

Her head shot up so fast she nearly clipped his chin with it. Have I heard him right? “What? Already?”

“Yes. A shop, or rather, an office and goldsmith place in the palace, and in the future, a shop,” he said, his other hand caressing her chin. “For you to create your pieces as much as you wish and after the baby is born and you’re feeling well enough, you can start selling them. Meanwhile, you start the production.”

Siobhan was speechless. “I thought you were just humoring me. But you really did it.”

He dropped his hand and shrugged. “It’s important to me that you are happy.”

She looked at him, her heart hammering against her chest. The mere thought of creating her jewelry again had her beyond excited,

Siobhan was impressed. He did seem to care about what she might want. “Am I high-maintenance?”

She sounded remorseful, which wouldn’t do. He gave her buttocks a possessive squeeze. “Aye, but you’re high-output as well.”

“Angus!” she cried, chuckling.

He had just pulled her down on the bed when a formal knock at the door interrupted them. “Who on earth can it be now?”

Exhaling a sigh, Angus rose from the bed and opened the door to Jumani.

“The Dowager Princess came calling and she’s waiting for you downstairs, Sir.”

Hell… “Show her to the family room, please. We’ll be there in a moment.”

* * *

“Angus, before we see her, can we talk for a minute? It’s important, and I’ve been putting it off, but I can’t any longer.”

The drastic change in tone from before Jumani’s knock concerned him. “What is it, Angel?”

Siobhan worked to gather her thoughts, refreshing her memory of Catriona telling her that Angus didn’t think she could run the household, and then telling her that she’d never fit in the way Innes did. But she didn’t want to sound like she was jealous about Innes. This was about living in a house with someone who hated her, and didn’t hesitate to make her disgust clearly known to her.

Siobhan turned away from him for a moment. With the sting of tears making her blink rapidly, she willed herself not to cry because she was pretty sure that he probably didn’t do crying along with hysterics. And it would underscore Catriona’s opinion that she was no Innes, apparently strong and capable of everything.

“You were saying?”

Siobhan, lost in her thoughts, had almost forgotten what she had been saying. She focused her eyes on the man sitting next to her on the sofa and blinked.

“Your mother…Catriona said something and I need you to clarify.”

“Get to the point, Siobhan.”

Is he being understandably impatient because I’m waffling, or are these just the signs of how things will be after the honeymoon is over?

“She said that she was…responsible for the coordination...”

“And so she is. Are we going somewhere with this, or is it just the circles thing?”

“She said that you had spoken to her…told her that I wouldn’t be able to run the household. Not the way Innes did...

Bitterness had crept into her voice, and Angus’s face darkened.

“I said you would not be able to immediately. And Innes never came up.”

“Okay, but to your mother’s way of thinking, I’ll never be able to because I’m just an intruding pauper who’s not only not up to the task, not qualified for it, but also only here for your money.”

The words were wrenched out of her and spoken straight from the heart. She’d intended to say more, but couldn’t, as she broke into tears.

Damn her to hell. “Listen to me, Angel. My wicked mother speaks only for herself. You should know I share none of her opinions. And I never—are you listening? —I never compare you to Innes, or anyone else, for that matter.”

Siobhan wiped her eyes and looked at him. “But she’s right. I can’t manage a palace. And what’s worse, I don’t even want to learn such a thing. I’m an artist, not an administrator. I could never be a suitable wife for a king, even if I did agree to marry you.”

“Say no more. It will never be your responsibility. I can hire someone else to do it, if you wish. You need not ever worry about the burden becoming yours.”

Siobhan’s tears began anew. How can he seem to care so much, and try so hard, and be so off the mark? “I don’t care about the damned household administration, Angus. I’m talking about your mother! Don’t you see?”

His eyebrow lowered as he frowned at her, confused. “I’m afraid I don’t. I thought household administration was what we are talking about.”

“I’m talking about living under the same roof with a woman who despises me and reminds me of it at every opportunity. Would you have your wife be the victim of her daggers on a daily basis as long as the house runs like clockwork? I’m talking about how hard it is for me to live here, and how Catriona makes it not only difficult, but painful as well. I struggle with the fact that you don’t love me, but on top of that, I have to deal with her hating me. Viciously hating me, Angus. Could you live with your worst enemy?”

Now that she’d finally gotten it all out, she had nothing more to say. She cried freely, having exposed the source of her worst daily pain. Now it was up to Angus to show her, or not, how much he really cared.

Angus wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her hair and whispering what he hoped were solutions.

“I’m sorry, Angel. I should’ve known. I should’ve done something. And I will. I’ll go talk to her while you wait here. And I’m going to lay down the law with her. I was outraged by the reporters throwing darts at you, while inside my own home, my mother has been throwing knives. I’m sorry. And, I will find someone to replace her. I will hire someone to run this house, and relieve her of that duty.” And I need to ask her to leave.

* * *

There was never anything like real stars in London. Just a few of the brightest constellations and the lights of planes overhead.

She tilted her head up, marveling at the night sky.

“I don’t know why anyone thinks looking at the stars is so romantic,” he said.

“Have they ever read Greek mythology? It’s all the same story—God sees mortal, God desires mortal, mortal suffers gruesome fate and is rewarded with an eternity of pain in the cosmos.”

He shrugged. “You could always make up your own stories.”

But she was already shaking her head. “No. Those stories are written in stardust millions of years old. I don’t think I get to change them.”

“Then I’m thankful for light pollution,” he said.

She made a little noise, something close to a giggle, and it set off a cascade of desire in him.

He put his hands behind his head and cupped his nape. “Have you thought about what you’ll do after the baby is born?”

She cocked her head to look at him and felt him jolt as she accidentally pressed against a sore place on his side.

“You hurt more than your shoulder,” she said in worry.

Angus let out a scraping laugh. “Angel, I haven’t a single moving part that doesn’t ache.” He struggled to a sitting position and propped his back against the headboard. Closing his eyes, he let out an unsteady breath and tried to accommodate the multitude of pains that assailed him—more specifically the one between his legs.

“What do you need?” Siobhan asked urgently. “What can I do?”

A few locks of heavy dark hair had tumbled over his forehead, and she stroked them back with tender fingertips. His lashes lifted, and she found herself staring into hot, golden eyes.

“You can marry me.”

“Oh, Jesus, Angus. Are we back at this?” She shook her head and clasped her hands in her lap. “You know nothing about me.”

“The best part of marriage is all the things you discover after the vows are spoken. And I know more about you than you think.”

“Oh?” She waited for some flippant reply. But his expression was serious as he studied her.

“You love your family, and you’re loyal to your friends. You’re very clever. You have a romantic streak, but you do your best to repress it. You consider yourself a sensible woman—and most of the time, that’s true. You have a dry sense of humor, and the ability to mock yourself and the pomposity of others. How am I doing?”

Some women might find it flattering that an attractive man paid such minute attention. Siobhan was uneasy. The woman he described was better than she was. The resemblance was unmistakable but it wasn’t her. But it was certainly a version of her that she liked a lot.

“You make me sound as if I have no faults,” she said gruffly.

His smile conveyed too much affection for a man who had said he couldn’t give her love. “I make you sound like you’re perfect for me. I saw immediately that you were something special. And I, my dear Siobhan, am a connoisseur.”

Are you? She stared back, both fascinated and appalled. “And if I fall in love with you? Is it going to be anathema?”

“No,” he said swiftly, and looked away from her. There was a slight rasp to his words, when he faced her again. “No. That would be perfectly…unobjectionable.”

From his words, she might have thought him uncaring. But that catch in his voice and the way he tilted his head toward her again, gave the lie to his indifference.

He looked at her like a thirsty man gazing on an oasis, trying to decide if it were an illusion brought on by the heat. It made a sudden, impossible sense of everything.

He doesn’t want a loveless marriage. He’s just resigned himself to one.

* * *

She couldn’t see it in the dark, but the Lektenstaten flag flapped in the wind, announcing the dragon was there, reigning over the kingdom.

And so was she, formidable as ever, just like the dragon. She had stayed alive this long by using her ability to predict her adversaries’ moves.

She knew how they would behave, oftentimes even before they did, thanks to her ability to read the stars and the cards.

Her life was an endless chess match, a calculated march taking her ever closer to her endgame—of a kingdom seized and retribution delivered.

Now, she was staring at the silent cards, which didn’t tell her what futures were possibilities. She gazed out to the sky, but the stars were also mute.

But that wouldn’t impede her to chase the dragon away.

She was already friends with Fiona, and she would use the gullible girl to put her plans in motion.

This situation could get tricky if Fiona got in the way and was hurt. She had no desire to hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.

But then, she wasn’t above casting away a pawn if she was to put the king in check.