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That impossible prettiness of Madelyn’s seemed to infuse everything, even the dusk settling around her shoulders like a shawl.
That deep gold thread inside him pulled tight.
That longing in him was something more like a roar—
“Hear me,” she bit out, and whatever he might have been about to do disappeared, lost somewhere in the way she held her hands on her hips, her censorious gray eyes fixed on him. “This will not happen. Troy is not a toy for you to play with. And I am not going to marry you. You might not remember what happened between us, but I do. Just as I remember exactly what was required to survive it. While caring for the child you didn’t know existed until yesterday.”
He didn’t think she should remind him of that part. It wasn’t wise. There was still that boiling well of fury inside him, and he didn’t see it dissipating anytime soon—
But this was not the time for fury. Not directed at his future queen, at any rate.
Paris Apollo was sure there would be time enough for that in the years to come, when justice was served.
And it would be served. He intended to see to it personally.
“You will marry me,” he corrected her, without any heat. Because there was no need to argue. She could fight this all the way down the aisle, for all he cared, and there was a part of him that hoped she would. A part that sat up and took notice of the building heat between them. “You and I will pledge our vows before the whole of my kingdom and the world. Our relationship will be all that is harmonious and aspirational, and if that is not true behind closed doors, it is of no matter. Lucky for me, the mother of my child is lovely. This is only to be expected, I grant you, but happily you are also a hard worker who isn’t afraid of a struggle or two. You will be an enormous hit, I’m certain.”
“I will not be ahit.” Her chest was moving jaggedly, as if she was running a race while she stood still. He found himself mesmerized, remembering all the other ways he could make her breathe so heavily—until a frustrated sound brought his gaze to her face. “This isn’t a game, Paris Apollo. This is my life.Mylife.”
“You are the mother of my heir,” he said mildly. Perhaps too mildly, the better to cover up all that wildfire inside of him. “By Ilonian law, your life is second to his, as is every other life in this kingdom save mine. It is a shamefully old-fashioned system, but there it is. A monarchy is all about its line of succession.”
Madelyn swallowed, hard, a storm in that gray gaze of hers. He should not have found it so fascinating, when he knew that was part of what had ruined him the last time. “If you would like to be part of Troy’s life, I won’t deny you.” She said that as if she was offering him a great concession. As if he had not already seen to it that there could be no such denials. “I realize now that I should have tried harder to involve you from the start.”
“Do you think?”
And that was not quite as mild as the rest, he could admit.
Her gaze got darker. She shifted, dropping her hands from her hips. “I hope you understand that I was being completely honest when I said it never occurred to me to try. That is how different the two of us are. It was unimaginable to me that you would look down from all these palaces and thrones andsceptersto take note of anything I might have been doing.Lines of successionwere not something I considered at any point. But it turns out youareinterested in Troy and I’m...delighted.”
“Yes, Madelyn. Your delight is plain to see.”
She ignored his dry tone. “I’m sure Troy will love getting to know his father. He’s always wanted one. But none of these very reasonable decisions that you and I will undertake for his benefit make me a candidate to become your wife. Much less yourqueen.”
He only watched her and waited.
And sure enough, she laughed out loud as if she’d made a joke. “I’m nobody’s idea of a queen. The very idea is laughable. Absurd in every respect.”
She laughed again to punctuate it.
“It is already done, my little Queen,” Paris Apollo said softly. “Too many dies are already cast, I’m afraid. There are forces at play that make it impossible to allow any claim to throne to go unprotected. Both you and your son must remain under my protection.”
“We wouldn’t need your protection if you simply left the both of us alone.”
“Perhaps you forget that I am not the one who found you.” Paris Apollo lifted a shoulder, then dropped it, reminding himself as he did that there were eyes everywhere. Even here on this supposedly private terrace, and it would not do to tip his hand. His enemies must see him as the lazy Prince they’d imagined they could usurp. So he smiled. “If Angelique could find you, so, too, can my enemies. That would end differently, I think. And not in a way you would like.”
“Is that a threat?”
He laughed. “Not from me.”
“I will do anything to help Troy.Obviously.But that doesn’t mean that I’m prepared to marry you. It’s ridiculous that you would even ask.”
“Madelyn.” This time, it was a pleasure to keep his voice lazy, because he could hear the truth beneath. Steel and intent. And if he wasn’t mistaken, so could she. “I did not ask.”
Down on the far end of the terrace, his staff appeared and began setting out the evening meal. Paris Apollo pushed away from the rail, then gestured toward the table with exaggerated courtesy. Madelyn looked at him as if he was a lunatic, which he liked more than he should have, but she turned anyway. Then she stalked down the length of the terrace, a bristling sort of umbrage stamped over every inch of her.
Truly, each moment he spent with her, he enjoyed her more.
This time, he would enjoy her without losing his head. He would not be taken by surprise by the punch of her, for one thing. And for another, he was not the same man he’d been then.
