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‘Why not? I’ve got nothing else to do.’
He looked away, lifting a casual shoulder, as if it was nothing to him. ‘I was captured by the enemy on a mission in the Middle East. We all had cyanide capsules to take in case of torture and we were all expected to take them to safeguard military secrets. I should have taken mine, but I didn’t. I ended up being rescued by my brother, who went against orders to do it. My father was furious. He told me I should have died and that by not killing myself I’d endangered the entire country. So he exiled me.’
Calista’s gut lurched. His voice had been utterly normal, as if relating a story about something innocuous and not about capture and death. As if it had happened to someone else.
So that was the truth about why he’d been disinherited and banished. The truth about his so-called cowardice. He was supposed to have killed himself and hadn’t.
‘I...didn’t know,’ she said hesitantly. As a soldier, she should have treated this admission with the disgust it deserved, since a loyal soldier would always die before betraying his or her country’s secrets. Yet...it wasn’t disgust that she felt right now. It was something else. Something she couldn’t identify.
‘No, of course you didn’t.’ He adjusted something on his controls. ‘My father refused to speak of me after I left.’
The emotion clenched tighter and more questions bubbled up inside her. Why hadn’t he taken the pill? Why was his father furious? Wouldn’t the king have been happy his son was alive?
But no, she shouldn’t be getting curious about him. She shouldn’t want to know. What she should be doing was trying to get him to drop this marriage idea, because it was insane.
She knew how to kill a man, how to march for miles with a heavy load, how to disassemble a firearm in seconds and then put it back together again. How to stand at attention for hours, alert to the slightest movement.
She’d put work and effort and time into her military career and she did not want it to be derailed because she’d somehow forgotten all those lessons in control her father had taught her, about the dangers of giving in to your own wants and needs, of putting yourself first.
Her country was the most important thing in her life aside from her father, and she couldn’t allow one mistake to jeopardise it.
Calista turned away to look out at the mountains passing beneath them, gritting her teeth against the stupid tears that pricked behind her eyes.
Why was she crying? She was a soldier. She was strong. Which meant it had to be the pregnancy hormones affecting her. Perhaps she’d leave off asking questions and instead try to come up with a plan so he’d drop the idea of marrying her.
So all she said was, ‘I’m sorry.’
He only shrugged and said nothing more.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence, but, as he’d promised, it wasn’t a long one. Barely an hour later, they were coming down to land on the flat stone roof of a palatial villa built into the cliffside. A small beach covered in perfect white sand lay below it, with a deep, crystalline blue ocean lapping at the shore.
Immediately the helicopter landed, they were met by a swarm of staff, one taking her bag and a second bag that must have belonged to the prince, while another few surrounded Xerxes, obviously receiving orders.
A few more surrounded her, preparing to usher her inside, but the prince waved them away and abruptly they were alone again, standing on the roof while a fresh sea breeze smelling of salt and sunlight played with the ends of her hair.
‘Come,’ Xerxes said, making no move to touch her this time. ‘Do you want to eat first or shall I show you around?’
Calista squared her shoulders, standing at attention. ‘Neither, Your Highness. I’d prefer to go home.’
He gave her another of those measuring looks. ‘Food, I think. We’ll discuss it over brunch.’
Calista opened her mouth to protest, but he was already walking away towards the stairs that led down to the rest of the house. Which left her with two choices. Either she could stand here stubbornly waiting until he saw sense, or she could follow him.
Glancing regretfully at the helicopter—she’d never learned how to fly, though it was something she’d always wanted to do—Calista sighed. Waiting here would be pointless, since if she wanted to change his mind she’d actually have to talk to him. And besides, a soldier needed strength to fight and she was certainly intending to fight.
Forcing her sullen temper away, she followed him reluctantly.
The villa was amazing. Constructed of white stone and over several levels, it tumbled down the side of the cliff in a series of boxes and terraces, with huge windows that made the most of the astonishing views over the sea.
On one of the terraces was a long, deep blue infinity pool, while on another there was a garden with pots of trees and shrubs and flowers.
A long, heavy, rustic wooden table shaded by grapevines growing over a wooden frame stood on yet another and it was here that brunch had been laid out, the table covered by a white tablecloth and set with fresh, crusty bread, butter, all kinds of preserves and a carafe of coffee and glasses of orange juice. A basket of pastries stood near the coffee, while a platter of crispy bacon made her stomach growl.
Xerxes flung himself down in one of the heavy wooden chairs, the seat covered with bright cushions, and gestured at her to do the same.
She felt an irresistible urge to stand just to spite him, but she wasn’t quite that petty, so she sat, unwillingly pleased at how comfortable the seat was.
The prince reached for the coffee, pouring out two mugs and pushing one to her, before grabbing a plate and filling it with bacon, the fresh bread and some pastries, which he also pushed in her direction. ‘Eat that before we start,’ he ordered. ‘You look like you’re going to pass out at any second.’
