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‘Do I have a choice?’
‘In this, no.’ Not when her protection was concerned. ‘I need your word that you’ll co-operate or I’ll leave you behind.’
She’d started scrubbing hard again and this time his hand shot out to stop the abuse of skin. His hands were gentle as he showed her how to wash without scouring but his voice was hard when he spoke again.
‘I can’t be giving my speech and worrying about your safety at the same time. Give me your word that you’ll do what my security team tells you to do.’
‘Are you always this paranoid?’
‘Always. And not without good reason.’
She couldn’t hold his gaze. ‘You have my word.’
‘We leave in twenty minutes,’ he offered.
And left her to it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANXIETY RODE ANA hard as the helicopter drew away from the winter fortress. She didn’t like leaving Sophia behind, even if she could understand Casimir’s reasons for not taking her with them today. Sophia would be cared for here, of that she had no doubt. Her daughter was resilient and seeing Ana leave for work was nothing new.
And still, Ana had never felt such anxiety at the sight of her daughter becoming a speck in the distance.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Casimir said from his seat beside her. He wasn’t flying the helicopter today; he’d taken a back seat, alongside her. Behind them sat four security guards. His favourites, Ana thought. His most trusted. The ones who’d been with him before when he came to Geneva, the watchful Katya amongst them.
That had been what…four days ago?
It felt like longer.
Casimir was already dressed for his press conference, or so Ana assumed. Black suit, black tie, white shirt. She was wearing what he’d suggested. Dark trousers, white shirt, a short-cut jacket and low heels. Clothes from a suitcase packed in a hurry, back when they’d agreed she’d only be here for two weeks. She’d kept her make-up to a minimum and scraped her hair into a bun. She’d had twenty minutes to shower and dress. If he wanted her more presentable, he had to give her more time. ‘How do I look?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I didn’t bring many clothes.’ And she certainly hadn’t brought her best clothes. The kind he wore on a daily basis.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘You always are.’
‘I know how to make the most of what I have,’ she continued doggedly. ‘And I know this outfit is okay for today. That isn’t to say that I wouldn’t take advice from your people about what to wear, and what Sophia should wear, once you’ve acknowledged her. Do you have those types of advisors available?’
‘Fashion advisors for women? No. It’s been a long time since the monarch has needed to dress either a princess or a king’s consort.’
‘I mean, we have more clothes at home. They’re just not here. We’re only going to be here two weeks, and apart from that I didn’t know what we’d need and I still don’t know. I know what kind of clothes are acceptable in Geneva—no problem there. I’m just not sure what’s acceptable here.’ New country, unknown expectations and a public more than willing to crucify her. ‘Never mind. I’ll figure it out. It’ll be fun. Lots and lots of fun.’
‘You’re nervous,’ he said.
‘Very.’ She clasped her hands together and tucked them between her knees. And not just about clothes. He was about to lay claim to their daughter. There would be no turning back from that.
‘I’ll ask Moriana to take you shopping. She’ll know what’s appropriate.’
He sounded serious. He looked serious.
‘This would be the Moriana you were supposed to marry, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yeah, let’s not do that.’
‘Why not? Do you expect her to hold a grudge?’
‘She might.’ The woman was losing not just a kingdom but him too. ‘How long has she waited for you?’
He had the grace to look slightly discomfited. ‘I wouldn’t call it waiting on me, as such. Moriana had things to do too. She has a degree in politics and fine arts. Charities to oversee. Her brother’s coffers to empty when it comes to the royal family’s art collection. She’s been busy.’
