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“Perhaps you’ll catch some of your mother’s enthusiasm for the wedding planning,” Nik murmured as he guided her toward the next group, which he’d informed her included the devil himself, Aristos Nicolades.
“Perhaps I would,” she conceded, “if I didn’t have a million and one protocols to follow.”
“Which are what the wedding planner is for.” He pressed a palm to her back as the loosely arranged grouping that was their target parted to admit them. A tall, extremely well-built male who looked to be in his early thirties stepped forward. “Your Highness.”
His designer dark stubble and piercing, black-as-sin eyes were a bit breathtaking. The dangerous, edgy vibe the stranger exuded suggested this might be Aristos Nicolades.
Nik stepped forward to shake his hand. “Aristos Nicolades, meet my fiancée, Sofi´a Ramirez.”
Aristos’s eyes moved over her in an appreciative slide that somehow managed to be proper and not so proper all at the same time. Instead of shaking the hand she offered, he brought it to his mouth, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Nik stiffened beside her at the lapse in propriety.
“The king is a lucky man,” Aristos murmured. “Congratulations.”
As beautiful as he was, as fascinating as his predatory vibe undoubtedly manifested itself for just about any woman on the planet, Aristos’s touch generated none of the electricity she felt when Nik put his hands on her. The magnetic realization that she had been wired for him and him alone.
The thought was more than a little disconcerting.
She retrieved her hand. “So lovely to meet you, Mr. Nicolades, after hearing so much about you.”
Aristos’s mouth curved. “I can imagine the king’s opinion of me could prove quite fascinating. You must enlighten me.”
Nik’s fingers tightened around her elbow. “I am looking forward to us being on the same side, Nicolades. It should prove refreshing.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Nik flicked a glance over the group. “You came with someone?”
Aristos nodded toward a tall blonde immersed in conversation with another woman. “No need to introduce. It’s dying a slow death.”
Nik’s mouth twisted. Sofi´a absorbed the nonchalant look on Aristos’s face, then glanced over at the vivacious-looking, stunningly beautiful blonde, a response tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Does she know that yet?”
Aristos lifted a shoulder. “Considering the blowout we had before we came, I am fairly sure she does.”
Sofi´a blinked. Regarded Nik’s lethal rival as the two men embarked on a conversation about meeting the next week. “He’s outrageous,” she murmured to Nik when he wrapped the conversation and propelled her forward into the crowd. “Poor woman.”
He guided her through a traffic jam. “His women are well aware of the score. I’m sure she’s cognizant of the fact her expiration date is almost up.”
“As was mine until the unexpected happened.”
Nik leaned down and brought his mouth to her ear. “You know you and I were more complex than Aristos’s careless liaisons. I hardly think they can be put in the same category.”
Complex? What did that even mean? That the desire they’d had for each other had simply been more consuming than most? That it had been harder to walk away? What would happen when Nik’s lust for her died? Would his attitude be just as apathetic and cynical as Aristos’s? After all, they seemed to be two birds of a feather when it came to women despite what Nik said.
They attempted to greet everyone, but with hundreds in attendance it was almost impossible. Some of the Akathinians were gracious and welcoming to her, many more were cold and unfriendly to the outsider she clearly was. It was unnerving and depressing to put herself out there time and time again only to have her overtures thrown back in her face. By the time she and Nik moved to the center of the room to kick off the dancing, she wasn’t sure if she was furious or utterly deflated.
He drew her into his arms, camera flashes extinguishing as she laced her fingers through his and set her hand on his shoulder. His gaze scoured hers. “If you let them get to you, they win.”
“Easy for you to say. You haven’t been the subject of a hundred snubs.”
“Who cares what they think? You are my choice.”
Because she was carrying his child. Because it was his duty. The humiliation that had been building inside her all evening spun itself into a fury, heating every inch of her skin. Clamping her mouth shut, she stared sightlessly over his shoulder.
