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She shook her head as if that would somehow change things. ‘No. No. You can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m a—’ She stopped dead and looked down at the staff member kneeling on the floor and sweeping up the broken glass. Her teeth worried at her bottom lip.
There was no soldier’s mask now, no thousand-yard stare, no iron control. All those powerful emotions he’d seen the night they’d spent together were laid bare, shock flickering over her strong features and darkening the liquid amber of her eyes. The light from the unnecessary fire had caught the differing shades of gold in her glorious hair and he was suddenly, almost forcibly reminded of how he’d wound that hair around his wrists and used it to guide her mouth on him.
Desire pulsed through him, a thick, hot wave of it, and deeper this time, an edge of possessiveness creeping in. She would be his and there would be no cold bed for this particular marriage. He was tired of feeling nothing. He wanted to drown himself in her heat and her fire, which meant she would be his wife in every way.
The staff member finished up with the glass, making sure every shard had been collected and the water mopped up, then they scurried away as noiselessly as they’d entered.
Xerxes shut the door again and moved over to the coffee table, picking up the glass of orange juice and holding it out to her. ‘Drink this. You’re looking pale.’
‘No.’ Disbelief was stark on her face. ‘I’m a palace guard and you’re a prince. I can’t marry you.’
‘Au contraire, soldier. I can marry anyone I choose because I’m a prince.’
‘No, you can’t,’ she insisted. ‘Your engagement to the princess—’
‘Has been put on hold, soon to be cancelled.’ He moved over to her, took her nerveless hand in his and closed her fingers around the glass. Her skin felt cold against his. ‘Don’t drop it this time.’ He deepened his voice, putting a note of command in it that seemed to work so well on her. ‘Drink at least half, and that’s an order.’ She needed the glucose to combat the shock.
Reflexively she lifted the glass and took a couple of swallows.
Satisfied, Xerxes went on, ‘I have already informed my brother that I need to speak with him urgently. In about...’ he glanced down at the heavy platinum watch that had been made just for him ‘...twenty minutes. And I will inform him of my plan.’
Calista’s eyes were wide and shocked, but her cheeks had lost that overly pale look.
Xerxes took the glass from her—she’d swallowed almost exactly half as ordered—and put it down on the coffee table. Then he laid a hand at the small of her back and guided her to the chair again. She didn’t resist, the heat of her body seeping into his palm, making the desire already smouldering inside him flare.
But as much as he’d like to kiss those red lips, taste the sweetness of her again, he wasn’t going to. Not yet. She needed some time to come to terms with her new situation and he could be patient when he wanted to be. He’d had practice since coming back to Axios, after all.
‘Sit down before you fall down,’ he murmured, easing her back into the chair.
She did so, looking up at him, her face still whiter than he would have liked. ‘You can’t...’ she whispered. ‘You can’t.’
‘I can,’ he said with a certain amount of gentleness, and crouched down in front of her chair, reaching out to take her fingers in his and chafing them to warm them. She let him, as if she wasn’t aware he was even doing it. ‘I’m going to tell the king that you are pregnant with my heir and that I need to marry you quickly. Eleni won’t care. She’ll be relieved, since she didn’t want to marry me anyway. We’ll come to some arrangement about the armies we promised her country; it won’t be an issue.’
He wouldn’t let it be an issue. His own father had put everything before the welfare of either of his sons; nothing was more important than the throne, than Axios. A prince had to be made of rock and stone, since human flesh was weak, and so he’d tried his hardest to crush the humanity right out of them.
Xerxes still remembered that stone room in the bowels of the palace, with no windows and no furniture except a chair and one bright light. A test, Xenophon had called it afterwards. But it hadn’t been a test his father had put him through, but torture.
No, he would not do the same to his child.Never.
Calista was shaking her head. ‘But all those people in the ballroom...’
Of all the possible issues she should concern herself about, the people in the ballroom were the least important. He’d half considered presenting her to the assembled dignitaries right now so that it was done. But it was clear she wasn’t ready and he had no desire to put her through that.
Later, when she’d come to terms with it, he’d dress her in that golden gown and a tiara worthy of her new status. Array her like a goddess, Artemis with her bow and arrow, ready to hunt. He’d present her to his country as the prize she was.His.
Hunger and possessiveness wound itself around his throat, clawing at him. The sudden rush of feeling would have worried him, since possessiveness wasn’t exactly a hallmark of detachment, but he ignored it, refusing to examine it.
Instead, he kept his touch on her fingers businesslike. ‘The people won’t care. They’ll have enjoyed a party with free champagne and it’ll end in a scandal, which will thrill them. I’ll be speaking to Eleni before I see the king and ensure she’s well taken care of. She might want to score a few points off us for it, but I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.’ Ideas had already begun to turn themselves over in his head, his brain flicking through options the way it had used to do when he was in the army. ‘In fact, I’ll probably offer some military support in recompense and she’ll be pleased. Even more pleased if I tell her that she can be the one to break off the engagement. Tell everyone I’m not suitable. No one will be surprised.’
Calista’s fingers were warming in his hands now, the cold leaving them, and he had a sudden urge to kiss them. Instead, he closed his own around them, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
Instantly, as if remembering herself, Calista jerked her fingers from his, leaning back in her chair away from him. There was a set look on her face, the beginnings of anger glowing in her eyes. ‘You’re totally serious, aren’t you?’
He remained where he was, crouching in front of her chair. ‘Of course I’m serious. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the past ten minutes.’
