by C. J. Miller
Maria seemed pleased by that. “Me, either. But my brothers, I mean our brothers, I don’t know. They aren’t immune to a woman’s charms. Stella flirts with everyone. She lies and she makes promises she can’t keep—or has no intention of keeping. I think she could persuade my brothers.”
“Flirt with their stepmother?” The idea left Iliana feeling queasy.
“She’ll offer whatever she can to get what she wants. Money, land, future goodwill after she is queen. I don’t trust her.”
“I am sure Emmanuel, Theodore and Spiro are smart enough to see through whatever she offers.”
Maria frowned. “I don’t know. They underestimate Stella, and that’s exactly how she’ll win.”
Iliana squeezed her sister’s hand. “You need to rest and get better. Demetrius is looking into this. He’ll find the truth. If Stella is involved, she’ll pay.”
Maria pursed her lips in thought. “Demetrius cares for you.”
“He’s my husband.”
“What’s that like? To have a powerful man on your side?”
Secure and comforting, especially in difficult times like these. “You had our father on your side. How did that feel?”
Maria sighed. “Our father was busy. He took a distant interest in our lives. When I wanted to learn to play the violin, he hired a teacher for me. When I wanted to learn to paint, he had a well-known artist work with me. But I’m not sure that’s the same as what you have with Demetrius. He’s always right there.” She gestured to Iliana’s side.
Hearing about how the king had raised his children, Iliana was grateful for the man she had called dad. He hadn’t just signed her up for piano lessons. He had sat in the room while she’d attended them. He had listened to her practice. He had hung her artwork, as messy and imperfect as it was, in his office. Her parents had recorded her dance recitals and her games. They had showed the recordings to family members at her birthday parties. They had been proud and supportive.
Iliana felt overcome with emotion. A sob escaped her, and soon she couldn’t stifle her grief.
Demetrius burst into the room. “What happened?”
Maria patted Iliana’s hand. “She’s just upset. This is a lot for us to deal with.”
Demetrius put his arms around her. He didn’t say anything further. He just hugged her until she pulled herself together.
* * *
“I think you should talk to a psychiatrist,” Demetrius said as they prepared for bed. They had returned to Icarus. Iliana was glad to be somewhere familiar and safe.
Iliana was taken aback by her husband’s comment. She’d cried today, but that was hardly cause for needing a therapist.
She had slipped into pajamas that were less for sleeping and more for enticing. She’d been thinking about Demetrius and how he had protected her, and it had turned her on. Her emotional release in Maria’s hospital room had been therapeutic, and she was feeling better since the incident on the bridge.
But Demetrius’s statement was a cold, wet blanket over her libido. She wished she hadn’t spent the past forty minutes in the bathroom preparing for bed.
“A psychiatrist. Why?” She didn’t hide the defensiveness in her voice.
“You’ve been under a lot of stress. I’ve seen it happen to the best men in the field. You need a release.”
She needed a release. But not a verbal one. After her good cry, she wanted to sleep with her husband. “I cried, Demetrius. Deal with it. It will happen sometimes. Usually when I have my period. I have my friends if I want to talk. But right now I don’t want to talk. I want what only my husband can give me.”
She walked across the room, hoping her saunter was seductive. But it was hard to strut in five-inch heels. Bedroom shoes, shoes that wouldn’t see the light of day. She crawled into the bed, and Demetrius set his tablet on the nightstand. His eyes went from her face to her chest and hovered there for an extra moment before continuing down her body. “You don’t have to do this. You’ve had a hard day.”
What was his problem tonight? She was offering herself up on a silver platter and he was turning her away? What gave? “Are you telling me you don’t feel like it?”
“I’m not a jerk. I’m trying to be sensitive to your feelings.”
Why couldn’t she and Demetrius get on the same page emotionally? “My feelings right now are sexual.” She leaned forward.
He set his hands on her shoulders, keeping her from coming closer. “Serena called me and told me to take it down a level. I can only assume that the message is being filtered through her from you.”
Iliana rolled her eyes. “She called me, too, because she saw the incident on the bridge on the news. She worries. She’s about to be a mother, and that makes her worry more.”
“Iliana, I’m trying to be a good husband, but you’re wiggling around in barely anything and I’m only a man.”
She’d have her way. Iliana lunged at him. She was cold and her feet hurt. Forgetting the day was her first priority, and sex with Demetrius had a mind-erasing effect to it. She kissed him insistently and let out a sigh when he kissed her back. Her little noise seemed to be the starting gun for him. It was all-systems-go time.
She straddled him and shoved his shoulders down, forcing him to lie flat on the mattress. She rolled her hips and he lifted his, the hardness of his body exciting her. Iliana peeled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. She tugged his pants down his hips, hooking her fingers in his boxers and taking them down, too.
Demetrius liked to be in charge. He made it obvious with every decision. But in their bedroom, they were equals. Since being married, they had experienced more drama than most couples did in an entire year. He had remained at her side and he had protected her and cared for her. Now she would take care of him.
She kissed his bare chest, letting her fingers scrape across his skin. Making love could be about almost anything. Tonight, it was about feeling close to him, about feeling gratitude and a connection and wanting to indulge in it.
He flicked the straps of her nightie over her shoulders, and she let the thin fabric fall around her waist.
He grew harder between her legs. “Are you screwing with me?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I plan to screw you, though.”
He reached for her breasts and palmed them. Sensations rippled over her. He massaged slowly, squeezing, lightly pinching the peaks. Her hips swiveled, and her shoe fell off and hit the ground with a thump.
She rested her hands on his hips. His impressive length grew. Following her desires, she moved to lay vertical to him, her head near his hip. She took him in her hand and licked his tip. He fisted the sheets and she knew he wanted to grab the back of her head. She licked and sucked and kissed along his length. Then she took his hand and brought it to her hair. He threaded his fingers into her long strands and set the pace he liked. She took him deep, opening her throat, hollowing her cheeks.
His toes were curled and a sweat had broken out on his forehead. The great and mighty Demetrius DeSante was rattled by some caresses from her hands and mouth. The power was intoxicating.
She blew across the tip and he shivered.
She loosened her jaw, to relax and do what brought him pleasure. With Demetrius, it was never enough. She bobbed up and down and he fisted her hair in his hand, no longer moving her head, just holding on to her.
She lifted her gaze to make eye contact. It may have been the connection or her hand, but he lost control.
He pulled out of her mouth with a pop and rolled her onto her stomach. She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Seconds later, he was lifting her hips and pushing inside her.
He rode her hard and fast. She pushed back against him, loving this uninhibited side. She wanted to tell him to say words of forever, words that made her precious to him. Words su
ch as love, my only and eternity.
He wouldn’t speak the words.
His pace frantic, he reached to massage her in the right places, bringing her with him, higher and hotter until they both saw stars.
Chapter 8
Iliana’s first formal invitation as Demetrius’s wife arrived the next day, tied with a purple satin ribbon and closed with a wax seal with an A stamped into it.
Abeiron stood next to her after delivering it, staring at the wall. He did that whenever they were alone, staring at nothing, as if afraid to look at her.
“Whose seal is this?” she asked.
“The baron of Aetos in Valencia.”
Iliana broke the seal and unrolled the silky paper. The details were written in precise calligraphy.
Abeiron cleared his throat. “A courier brought it this morning.”
Abeiron was dressed as he always was, wearing formalwear before 8:00 a.m. Iliana wondered if he slept fully clothed and changed only to keep his garments looking neat and pressed and smelling fresh.
Iliana took a sip of her orange juice and swallowed her multivitamin. “Who is the baron of Aetos?”
Abeiron sniffed. “He is the most well-known baron in Valencia. Some fear him because of his eccentricities.”
“Eccentricities?” Iliana asked. That could mean anything. She wanted details before she agreed to meet with him.
“He keeps to himself in personal matters, but inserts himself into political matters. The side he takes is usually the side that wins. He has allies and enemies, but his enemies often go silent and find themselves at his mercy.”
He sounded...creepy. “Why does he want to see me?”
“Tradition. You are new to Valencia. He wants to welcome you, as is the custom. The baron of Aetos serves as the country’s official welcome ambassador.”
“I should meet with him, then,” Iliana said. Perhaps the baron could share his thoughts on the situation with the king’s will. She would be careful to ask vague questions, as to not pit him against her by inadvertently appearing to take sides or to have already made up her mind.
Maria had warned her that Stella was sly. She could already have formed an alliance with the baron of Aetos.
“That is your decision. I’ve heard that the baron makes life easier for those who he calls friends.”
She could use allies in Valencia, especially if she was pitted against Stella, who’d had years to gather supporters.
“I suggest you speak to the president about it,” Abeiron said.
Iliana would do that. Demetrius knew everyone and he would likely tell her about the baron of Aetos. Excited, she ran to Demetrius’s office. When she entered the office, he was on the phone and switched to another language.
One day she would study the languages he spoke and then he wouldn’t be able to shut her out of conversations. When he hung up, she circled the desk to show him the invitation. “Guess what came today?”
She had received many similar invitations for the queen of Acacia. She hadn’t before been the intended recipient, except when invited as the queen’s guest.
“I’m guessing it’s good news.”
“An invitation to dinner in Valencia from the baron of Aetos.”
If she had added, “which includes a postdinner orgy,” it would have garnered the same response from Demetrius. His face was cold and hard, the same expression he possessed when he had a gun in his hand and planned to use it.
“You aren’t going,” he said.
He liked to throw down edicts. She wasn’t his to command. If he wanted her to decline the invitation and set a precedent that she was reclusive and rude, she needed a compelling reason. “I know you are concerned about security—”
“My objection is not about security. Iliana, please for once in our marriage, will you do what I ask of you without question?”
It didn’t seem fair. Why was he getting upset about this? “I can’t just do as you ask. You need to give me a reason. If I decline, it will look discourteous.”
He snatched the invitation from her hand. He swore in another language, and she knew from his tone he was furious.
“Is it because he’s a man?” she asked, but she sensed this wasn’t pointless jealousy. “You need to tell me what is going on.” She hated when Demetrius kept secrets.
“Iliana, you cannot attend. Please be reasonable.”
What did Demetrius know about this man to garner such a negative response? “Are you worried he’ll tell me something about the king that will hurt me?”
“This isn’t about your father.”
Somehow this conversation hurt worse on the heels of the night they had spent together. He had held her and made love with her so passionately, and now he was treating her as though secrets between them were again required. “Tell me why.” If she let him call the shots and not give any reasons, then they wouldn’t grow closer. Demetrius’s secret keeping had almost destroyed her ability to trust him. Why couldn’t he see how important the truth was to her?
“This is not a conversation I can have with you. Do not go to the baron’s house.”
When he said the baron his voice shook with anger. “Do you know him?”
“I know everyone of importance.”
“Aren’t you full of yourself,” she said.
“I am not full of anything except concern for my wife. You aren’t going, and that’s final.”
“I’m not going, and that’s final? You’re acting as if I’m your subordinate, but I am not. I am your wife.” Did he hear how unfair he was being? “Unless you give me a good reason right now why I shouldn’t get involved in Valencia, I’m going.”
“He is not someone you want to associate yourself with.”
“Why? What will having dinner with him do?”
Demetrius locked his sights on her. She didn’t avert her gaze. This conversation was about more than an invitation. It was about him seeing her as an equal and trusting her with information. “It will make me furious.”
“Well, you’re making me furious right now!” Iliana felt tears welling in her eyes. Another tap on the door and three of his advisers were standing in the doorway looking uncomfortable. She would not cry in front of them. She stood, snatched the invitation from his hand and hurried from the room, pushing past the men. She mumbled, “Excuse me,” but could only manage the words in a whisper.
Iliana would gladly stay away from politics involving Icarus, but she could make a mark for herself in Valencia.
She was going to meet with the baron of Aetos. She would find out what secret Demetrius was keeping.
Chapter 9
The baron of Aetos lived on a spread of land about fifty miles from the capital city of Abele. The sky was dark and overcast, and she had a heavy feeling in her stomach, but Iliana didn’t want to consider the possibility she was making a mistake.
She had left Icarus and flown to Valencia without Demetrius’s approval. He hadn’t wanted to discuss the matter further. She had tried to talk to him. He had been busy, in meetings and on phone calls. When she’d brought it up, he’d looked at her, told her she couldn’t go and left the room.
Iliana had Demetrius’s security with her. They were likely keeping the president informed of her whereabouts and she supposed they would have stopped her if this was a mistake.
Maria had thought she should go. Maria had met the baron. She’d described him as a crotchety old man but said he wielded power and influence over politics in Valencia. If the king’s children wanted him on their side, Iliana had to win him over. Anything to keep him from joining Stella’s camp.
The baron’s steward escorted her to her host’s dining room. Expecting a dark and somber place, she was surprised to see it was well decorated, bright and inviting. The baron wa
s blind and his guard dog was at his side.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Iliana sat and sipped the wine that was offered to her.
“Thank you for meeting with me. As the official in charge of welcoming you to our country, I am pleased you agreed to meet me, especially on such short notice. I meet with numerous barons and duchesses throughout the year to take a pulse point. I thought it was important that we speak, especially since it seems you will be the first marchioness in my lifetime.”
Welcoming her and other titled royals to the country meant inserting himself into the thoughts and plans of the movers and shakers. It was a smart play, and Iliana would be careful not to be taken advantage of.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” she said. The key was neutrality. She sensed they were circling each other, but she wouldn’t let this escalate into a fight.
“I’d like you to see me as a friendly adviser, someone who would love to hear your thoughts and offer council.”
He was a stranger with an unknown agenda, and he wanted her to confide in him. That was bold. She would proceed with caution.
“Thank you. You’ve been the first to reach out to me in an official capacity.” She was intentionally avoiding answering his question.
“And your husband? Could he not join us tonight?”
Had this dinner been an effort to meet Demetrius? What had happened between the two men in the past? She wouldn’t tell the baron how angry Demetrius had become at the idea of her coming here. “Demetrius was busy with state matters.” Did the baron sense the lie? Demetrius was busy, but he should be with her tonight.
“There are some in the country who are worried your husband will use your position to make a play for the crown.”
Iliana laughed softly, not to insult the man but to convey how ludicrous she found the comment. “I can assure you that my husband has plans for Icarus, but none of them include expanding the borders. He is eager to stay friendly with his neighbors.”
