The Secret King

by C. J. Miller

  “Give me your wallet,” a man said into her ear. Something sharp pressed into her back.

  Adrenaline kicked hard in Iliana’s blood. She reached into her purse to hand him her wallet. The thief turned her around and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He held a knife to her stomach. She was afraid to breathe, for fear he would kill her.

  “Let me go!” Iliana screamed.

  “How lucky for me that a beautiful woman was stupid enough to walk alone.”

  “She isn’t alone.”

  Demetrius DeSante came out of nowhere, fists flying. He had the thief on the ground and was pummeling him mercilessly.

  The thief wasn’t moving. Iliana grabbed his arm. “Stop, Demetrius. Stop. Please.”

  Demetrius landed another punch and then stood. His guards were ten paces away. They had not interfered and they seemed indifferent to the scene. Would they have allowed the dictator to kill the man?

  Demetrius touched the side of her face with tenderness she wouldn’t have thought he possessed after that display of violence. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. Scared. Of him. Of you. What are you doing out here?”

  “Following you.”

  Iliana blinked at him. Serena had messaged her to see if she was okay following an attack on Serena’s uncle, so Iliana had been somewhat distracted. She had been walking the streets for close to two hours and hadn’t noticed anyone following her. “But the party...”

  “The party is just that. A party. But you are precious.”

  Her lips parted and she inhaled. He was looking at her intently and her heart fluttered for reasons that had nothing to do with fear. “Thank you. I didn’t think...”

  “This is not Acacia. You are a stranger in another land. You need to be careful.”

  He slipped his arm around her waist and led her to a black sedan parked at the end of the block. “Tell me what you’d like to see and I will take you.”

  Iliana felt she was in an alternate reality. “I was planning to walk the city and see the sites.”

  “Then may I suggest a place?”

  “Sure.”

  “I know a small café on the edge of town that serves the most wonderful biscotti. Let’s share some coffee, or tea if you’d prefer at this late hour, and enjoy the local specialties.”

  “You want to eat with me?”

  “I want to do more than eat with you, but I am a gentleman.”

  She swallowed hard. Seeing this side of him was strange. What was his angle?

  “You called me Demetrius.”

  Her mind was still reeling from the attack and fear was still trembling in her muscles. “Did I?”

  “You did. When you were begging me to show your assailant mercy.”

  Iliana blinked at him. “You would have killed him.”

  “He should not have touched you. I wouldn’t have beaten him for stealing from you, but touching you and threatening you is a grave offense.”

  “I was okay.” Except she wasn’t sure if she would have been.

  “Iliana, I know you are afraid of me. But I want to undo those fears. I want to show you I am not a monster. I am a man, a driven man, and I will prove that you can trust me.”

  Iliana didn’t know what to do with this information. Still rattled, she slid closer to Demetrius in the car. Though he seemed surprised, he didn’t move away. She laid her head on his firm shoulder and closed her eyes.

  Inhaling deeply, she let herself relax. She had fantasized about Demetrius, dreamed of him, sparred with him verbally and now that she was in his arms, she didn’t want any more drama. She just wanted him.

  Despite being together for hours, Demetrius DeSante didn’t touch her. He sat across from her in the café at the circular mosaic-topped metal table. He did not laugh easily and rarely smiled. But he made no attempt to end the evening. He asked interesting questions to further the conversation. He didn’t look at his phone or the clock on the wall.

  Demetrius was well read on a variety of subjects and strangely, they seemed to share several interests and were of like mind on many topics.

  Best of all, his attention was completely on her.

  Iliana wished she could text Serena about this, but she didn’t know how to without appearing rude. And she already felt intimidated sitting across from the dictator. When the shop employees began wiping down tables, they reluctantly stood to leave.

  Demetrius left a sizeable tip on the table. She wouldn’t have thought he would tip so generously. Everything she had read about him seemed shaded and not representative of the real Demetrius DeSante.

  When they returned to the hotel, Demetrius walked her to her room, oblivious to anyone who saw them together. Would he try to come inside her hotel room? Would he expect sex? She slipped her key card into the slot and the light turned green. She turned the door handle and cracked the door.

  He did not advance forward.

  “Iliana, I had a wonderful night. Thank you for the company.”

  She held the door open and debated inviting him inside. Reading him was difficult and it would be easy to make a misstep. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  He seemed to blush and it was adorable. His hands were clasped behind him. He would leave without touching her or kissing her. Would it be wrong to kiss his cheek? To hug him?

  She decided a kiss on the cheek was not out of bounds. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his cheek. He closed his eyes.

  When she pulled away, she had left some lipstick on him. She wiped at it with her thumb. He caught her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Leave it.”

  “It looks like I marked you.”

  “Perhaps I want to be a marked man. Good night, Iliana. You will call on me if you require anything.”

  He stepped back and she closed the door. After sliding the lock into place and taking several deep breaths to calm herself, Iliana peeked out into the hallway. Demetrius was gone.

  She wouldn’t know how to explain what had happened tonight. Was she being courted by the dictator of Icarus? Was he trying to use her for some ulterior motive?

  If he was using her, what did she have that he needed?

  * * *

  As the party picked up the pace, wine and alcohol were flowing more freely and the volume of the room grew louder.

  Casimir found Serena sitting at the bar. She looked bored. He seconded that emotion. He had spent time with Warrington, a task that taxed and angered him to no end.

  “Having fun?” he asked.

  Serena smiled halfheartedly. “I was planning to leave in a few minutes. I wanted to give you this.” She pressed her room key into the palm of his hand.

  The simple gesture meant volumes. Even after a night of socializing with the upper echelon of Elion, she still wanted Casimir in her room. The anticipation of being alone with her might kill him.

  Casimir was pleased to know that if he was with Serena, she would not be with King Warrington. Demetrius DeSante would be pleased to know that information as well.

  Serena slid off the bar stool and walked casually out of the room. Before he could follow her, DeSante approached.

  “I almost killed a man tonight.”

  Casimir knew his old friend could mean that literally. “In what context?”

  “I went out with Serena’s assistant. A man touched her. I beat him senseless.”

  Casimir shook his head. DeSante rarely acted or reacted with pure emotion. There had to be more to the story. “You had a date with Iliana?”

  “We were out together. It was not a date.”

  “What kind of man touched her? Like brushed by her on the street?”

  DeSante gave him a droll look. “No, he tried to assault her.”

  The incident came more clearly into view. DeSante had no patience when it came to violence against women or children or anyone who could not defend themselves. Zero threshold. It was a strange ethic. He would beat someone without guilt, but would defend to the death someone whom he believed des
erved protection.

  “Is Iliana hurt?”

  DeSante shot him a look. “Do you think I would let someone hurt her?”

  Casimir didn’t know DeSante and Iliana had grown so close. DeSante’s interest in Iliana was noteworthy because he rarely pursued a woman. “If you were out with her, I have no doubt she was safe.”

  DeSante stood taller. “I made it clear to her where we stand.”

  “And where is that?” Casimir asked.

  DeSante touched his heart. Then he flicked his head upward to someone behind Casimir. “Excuse me.”

  Casimir didn’t mind the abrupt end to their conversation. He and DeSante could be friendly. They made it their policy to be sociable with everyone. But they couldn’t be linked together. It was too risky for their plan.

  The last thread he needed to tie up was Fiona. She was having a good time, not drunk, but definitely feeling a buzz. He located her on the dance floor.

  “I’m heading to bed,” he said.

  Fiona shook her head and winked at him. “Not unless it’s my bed.”

  He wasn’t sleeping in her room. They had booked separate rooms for a reason. “Not tonight, Fiona. I can’t sully your reputation.”

  “Then make an honest woman out of me and put a ring on my finger.” She threw her head back and laughed, but he heard the truth in the statement.

  He had promised himself Fiona wouldn’t get hurt in his quest to destroy King Warrington. That might mean ending his relationship with her and giving her wide-open space to move on with her life. Not that he and Fiona had made any verbal commitments to each other, but Casimir knew that Fiona sometimes read into a situation and the more time they spent together, the more attached she became to him.

  “Good night, Fiona.” He kissed her cheek and she waved as he left the party.

  He took the stairs to Serena’s room. He needed to burn off some extra energy and give himself time to think about how to play this.

  It had never been the plan to sleep with Serena. He didn’t want to hurt her or put her in the middle of anything. He needed to be careful not to be seen entering her room at this hour by anyone other than her guards. They were, and should be, unavoidable.

  Casimir stopped in his room, changed into sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. Then he went to Serena’s room. He didn’t see her guards. Were they posted inside?

  Casmir entered the bedroom and he closed the door behind him.

  Serena was in her closet, taking off her dress. His breath caught. She looked beautiful.

  “Where are your guards?” he asked.

  “In their rooms. Sleeping.”

  No one was watching her room? That seemed risky. All the better that he was with her.

  She turned to show him the buttons. “I can’t get my dress unfastened.”

  She was undressing in front of him? Score for his desire. He walked closer to her, trying not to appear too eager and trying to keep his lust in check. This might not mean what he thought it did.

  “You picked a dress with the world’s tiniest buttons. There’s no way one person could get this off.” His fingers brushed her bare skin as he worked with the tiny spheres, forcing them through the satin fabric loops.

  “Maybe it’s supposed to require two people. More exciting that way,” Serena said.

  Her tone was higher and she seemed anxious. “Everything okay?” he asked, still unfastening the buttons. They went down the back of the dress, well past the curve of her rear end. Should he unbutton every one, or leave some fastened? How far did she want this to go?

  “I received some bad news from my uncle.”

  “About Dr. Shaw?”

  Serena took a deep breath. “Thankfully, Dr. Shaw is stable and growing stronger every day. But my uncle was attacked leaving a restaurant.”

  Though he wondered if there was a connection, Casimir could not tell her about Iliana’s near mugging without giving away his friendship with Demetrius. “He didn’t have his guards with him?”

  “He did, but they were waiting in the car,” Serena said, emotion thickening her voice.

  Casimir gently turned her by the shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He drew her into a hug. She seemed as if she needed a friend and a support. He could be both. It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, coming to her room tonight, but he would be whomever she needed him to be.

  “Do you want a glass of wine? Something to relax?” he asked.

  “I’ve had enough to drink tonight,” she said, turning again.

  He had unfastened the last button. Her thong was exposed, giving him a peekaboo look at the rest of her.

  “Have you looked in the mirror?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He led her to the mirror and she stared, mostly at him. They looked good together.

  “You look like a princess,” he said.

  “I am a princess,” she whispered.

  Reading her signals and responding, he peeled the right shoulder of her dress away, letting it fall down her arm. She was wearing a black bra and now he could see the lace trim. Elegant and classy, exactly like her.

  Then he slid the fabric down the other shoulder.

  The dress fell to the floor in a heap. Still watching her face in the mirror, he kissed her neck, setting his hands on her hips.

  She let out her breath on a sigh. He moved his hands to encircle her waist and she leaned into him. He had wanted her for so long, this could have gone lightning fast and been over in an instant. But he wanted to draw it out, to make his time with her last as long as possible.

  Though he wasn’t sure how this related to avenging his mother’s honor or how it would impact his and DeSante’s plans, he knew exactly what he was doing with Serena. He knew how to please a woman, and tonight he would please Serena.

  “Open your eyes and look at me,” he said.

  She did as he asked.

  “Watch what I’m doing to you.”

  He reached into the front of her panties and found her hot and wet. His erection strained against his pants, but this was about her. He wanted her to come once, maybe twice. He massaged her and she swayed on her feet.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She brought her legs apart and he plunged a finger inside her. She gasped.

  Moving her panties aside, he knelt between her legs. Using only his fingers, he made love to her, his eyes never leaving her face. She reached for the full-length mirror stand to steady herself. She made the most astonished face when she came and pride tumbled over him.

  He stood and kissed her and she melted against him.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she said.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Sweeping her off her feet, he carried her to the king-size bed. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled away the covers and blankets and laid her down.

  She watched him from propped elbows, her back on the mattress.

  He lifted her foot, removing her shoe and dropping it. Same for the other foot. He set her feet on the bed, her knees bent. He moved between them.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I want you to come again.”

  “I already...”

  “That’s why I said again.”

  She started to protest, but he ignored her and brought his head between her legs. After a few gentle laps of his tongue to gauge her reaction, he held nothing back, licking, sucking, tasting.

  “I can’t. I can’t,” she said, her hips thrashing.

  But she could. He had seen it and now he wanted to taste it.

  Adding his hand, he slid inside her. His free hand reached to her breast and, pulling aside the delicate fabric, he stroked her. She climaxed in his arms.

  He moved up the bed and lay next to her, feeling simultaneously tired and as if he could do this all night. The way she moved and the sounds in the back of her throat when she enjoyed him were awesome.

  She rolled to the side and buried her head against his neck. “Casimir, please stay
with me.”

  For tonight? Forever? His mind traveled to funny places and he considered what he had done. It complicated matters for sure. Was that bad?

  Letting DeSante in on what he had done, not the details, just that his relationship with the princess had shifted, might give perspective, but Casimir wasn’t ready to share this with anyone.

  For tonight, Serena was his and his alone.

  Chapter 6

  Serena curled next to Casimir, basking in the heat of his body. The only light was from the closet. She was tempted to get up and turn it off, to pull on her pajamas and get more comfortable. But being next to Casimir was a comfort in itself.

  She ran her fingers over his jawline, his beard tickling her fingers. Then she kissed him. Her skin prickled and the memory of the night they had shared simmered in her blood.

  He looked so peaceful and handsome as he slept. “Casimir?”

  “Yes, Your Highness?” He sounded groggy.

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  “What would you like me to call you?”

  “My name. Call me Serena.”

  He brought his lips to her temple in a kiss that was as perfect as it was brief. “Serena, what’s on your mind?”

  “I was thinking about last night.” Given the early-morning hour, it was an accurate description.

  “About what happened with your uncle?” he asked.

  “About what happened between us.”

  “It sounds like you’re worried.”

  Of course she was worried. What did this mean? “I’m supposed to marry King Warrington.”

  He tensed. If she hadn’t been touching him, she wouldn’t have noticed the slight tightening of his muscles in response to the mention of the king. “I know that you do not and cannot belong to me. You belong to Acacia and the king.” His voice was edged with ice.

  The truth in his statement brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back. “Can’t I be yours for now? For a few days or weeks or however long we have?”

  A dark expression passed over his face. She didn’t know him well enough to say what it was, but he was holding something back. He had depths she hadn’t fully explored and given the temporary status of their relationship, she couldn’t demand he confide in her.