Page 27 of Falling for the King

His wife, mother, grandmother, like their predecessors had all worn the family heirlooms as well as newly purchased jewels. None of them had provoked more than a passing interest. They were part of the job, a uniform as such, for the positions they held. Tradition dictated Katerina could never wear the queen’s jewels even though there were others available for her. She wasn’t, nor would she ever be the queen, a thought that strangely rankled.

Tonight when he’d seen her descending the stairs wearing both the rubies and the rose he’d wanted to rip them all off her, beat Edgar to a pulp and throw her over his shoulder. He’d itched to race her up the stairs to claim her as his own. And it hadn’t eased after he’d finally taken off the jewels nor when she’d dropped the rose to the floor. He’d wanted to keep going, to undo the long back zip inch by inch and push the dress off her shoulders exposing piece by piece of creamy flesh until it pooled at her feet. Then he’d have her step out of it to stand only in her heels and whatever underwear she wore.

‘What’s this about? You’re trying to tell me what jewellery I should and shouldn’t wear?’ she said, smashing his forbidden musings and even the kindest ear couldn’t miss her anger. He took a moment to be grateful she couldn’t read his mind.

‘No. I want you to be comfortable.’

‘Comfortable! Tonight? You’ve got to be kidding. And my jewellery was the least of my concerns.’ Her hands gripped the chair in front of her turning her knuckles white.

‘I don’t trust him, I told you that,’ he said feeling the need to justify himself as control of the conversation continued to slip. That she was the only person who had the ability to do that didn’t make him feel any easier.

‘Neither do I. And you looked like you wanted to kill him at the bottom of the stairs, what was that all about?’

Dismay settled deep in his gut that he, after a lifetime of training, was so transparent to her. It was bad enough without the knowledge that he couldn’t read her. She was an enigma to him although he was beginning to see a new side to her. One that questioned, challenged and talked back to him, the only person who did. And even though he’d known her for years, he found himself irresistibly drawn to her in ways he never imagined he’d feel towards anyone and that’d started the moment he’d passed on Edgar’s proposal.

‘A momentary lapse, my apologies, that was unprofessional of me.’ It had been, still it hurt to say the words that he never thought he’d have to, his whole life had been about his professionalism, his duty.

She bit down on her lip.

‘No. That’s not what I meant. Did he say something before I arrived? I’ve told you everything, but what about what he said to you?’

I’d recognised that gleam in his eyes when he looked at you and it made me murderous.

Silenced filled the space as he reorganised his internal words.

‘He said nothing. I didn’t like the way he looked at you,’ he finally admitted.

Raising her hand again she rubbed it across her throat.

‘And that made you mad?’ she said so softly he had to follow the movement of her lips to catch the words.

‘It’s not appropriate for him to behave like that,’ he said stiffly.

‘No, it’s not but there’s currently no laws against looking, unless you change them.’ A small smile pulled at her lips and he found his doing the same.

‘I might do just that.’

As quickly as it appeared the spark of humour was gone replaced with an all too familiar prickling awareness that persisted despite his best attempts. Her eyes darkened, holding his and he realised then, if he changed the laws, he’d be the first one in trouble.

She glanced down at the jewellery bundled on the table.

‘I wear the rubies as a reminder of Max.’ She stared at the jewels, not him, crashing him back to reality.

‘Do you need a reminder?’ He wanted to understand her feelings towards her late husband. They’d led separate lives almost from the start yet a formal separation had never been discussed.

Shame and sadness flashed across her face making his stomach clench and automatically he moved towards her.

‘Kat—’

‘He was my husband; I’ll never forget that.’ She speared him with a look that stopped him mid-step.

‘Nor will I.’ Although there were more times recently than he wanted to admit that he’d needed to remind himself of that fact.

‘You’re so different from him. It’s sometimes hard to believe you were brothers.’

‘He was like our mother in looks and temperament,’ he said unnecessarily. Of course she’d know that she’d met his beautiful fun loving, blonde-haired mother.

‘And you’re not.’