Carrying the King's Pride

by Jennifer Hayward

  He brought his mouth down on hers in a whisper-soft caress that drained any remaining anger from her. “You can jump,” he murmured. “I will catch you. You are right, Sofía. We are more. We can be a good team. I promise you.”

  Team. It was a vivid reminder of who she was marrying. A man who might have just promised to build a relationship with her, who liked and desired her, but who would never love her. Nothing had changed there. He had married her to secure his heir.

  She vowed to remember that as her lips clung to his and the kiss moved deeper. This time their coming together wasn’t about urgency or release, it was about leisurely exploring each other, about sealing a promise they were making. To do this together.

  She sighed and sank back into the wall, her palms coming up to cup his face. He inserted a knee between her thighs and moved in closer, deepening the kiss. He had never really lost his erection. It lengthened, thickened against her now. Pulsed with his desire for her.

  He wrapped his fingers around her thigh and hooked it around his waist. She pulled in a breath as he nudged the tender flesh between her legs with his shaft. “Sore?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He buried his mouth in the hollow of her throat. “I’ll be gentle.”

  “Yes.”

  He eased himself inside of her. Her body drew him in. He rocked against her, his eyes holding hers as he fused them together. Slowly, with heart-stopping tenderness, he took her. Higher, deeper until her sensitized body stirred back to life.

  The struggle she saw in his eyes gave her hope. He didn’t want to want her this much. He was fighting the connection they had. Fighting what they had always had that had seemed to be bigger than both of them. Out of their control.

  It scared her too, terrified her. But she needed him to be her anchor in this. Knew that he would be even if he never loved her. And that had to be enough.

  He surged inside of her again and again with deliberate precision, the friction of his body against her flesh almost painfully good. She came apart on a long, delicious surge of pleasure, her fingernails digging into his biceps. Nik groaned, clasped her hips tighter and came inside of her, the skin of his beautiful face pulling taught as the pleasure consumed him.

  Their breathing slowed. Her legs slipped to the floor. The haze of passion enveloping her lasted throughout the hot shower Nik set her under and until he tucked her into the big, luxurious bed. As she drifted off to sleep she curled against his chest.

  She didn’t want to think about the jump she’d just taken. The stakes that had been raised, just as she’d known they would be tonight. The fact that if she crashed this time, it would be a far bigger fall than the last.

  * * *

  Two sun-soaked days passed, and with it Sofía’s hope for her and Nik grew. They ate delicious food, played in the sea and indulged in an endless amount of lovemaking that had her convinced her fiancé had the stamina of four men.

  It was the time they’d needed to be able to focus on one another away from all the pressure. It had made all the difference in the world. Slowly, Nik was opening up to her. He was still guarded. He would likely always be guarded given his past, but less defensive when she probed, as if he was learning the rules of a game he’d never played. But then again, so was she. In that way, they were perfect for each other.

  What worried her, she thought pensively as she watched Nik return from a sail on their final day in Evangelina, his lithe, beautiful body as he secured the boat a major distraction from the sketch pad in front of her, was when they returned to their stressful life tomorrow where Nik literally carried the weight of a nation on his shoulders. Where she was going to have to face the forces that awaited her and somehow not let them destroy her. She feared their progress would be sorely tested.

  And that wasn’t even counting the part of her that knew she was falling in love with Nik, something that made her feel like crawling out of her skin. So vulnerable she felt raw and exposed. But she’d promised herself she was going to see this journey through. She was stronger than this as Nik had reminded her the night of their engagement party. She could do this for the sake of her child. And maybe, just maybe, she would end up with far more than she’d bargained for with Nik.

  She looked down at her sketch pad rather than let that thought fester. Examined her latest drawing. Still not right. Yet again. Grimacing, she tore the sheet off, crumpled it into a ball and added it to the growing pile beside her lounge chair.

  Dammit. Why wasn’t it coming? All those ideas she’d had in her head weren’t translating to the page. She picked up her cool lime drink and attempted to channel some Zen.

  Boat secured, Nik loped up the beach and dropped down on the chair beside her. Plucking the glass out of her hand, he drained its contents and set it on the concrete. Her mouth curved. “Is there anything you think is not yours?”

  His eyes glittered in the sunshine. “No. Did I not prove that last night? Do you need a reminder?”

  Her chin dipped, a wave of heat descending over her that had nothing to do with the sun. “What I need is for one of these designs to work.”

  He picked up one of the balls of paper. “May I?”

  “Will you be honest?”

  He lifted a brow as if to say when hadn’t he been?

  “Go ahead, then. I’m working on a maternity line.”

  He unballed one of the drawings, then another. Until he’d looked at them all. Twice. A frown of concentration creased his brow. “Well,” she said, teeth buried in her lip. “What do you think?’

  He looked up. “Qualifying this with the caveat I know nothing about fashion, I agree they’re missing something.”

  “Inspiration,” she murmured. “Nothing’s hitting me.”

  He sat back in the chair, sprawling his long limbs out in front of him. “I think you’re doing a typical Sofía. You’re going for the safe choices—what you think people will like, approve of, instead of giving your imagination free rein. You’re not fully committing.”

  “I am,” she protested. “I’ve been killing myself over these.”

  He gave her a look as if to say that was exactly her problem. “Draw something for yourself. Draw something crazy, way over the top to get your creative juices flowing. You can always pull it back.”

  She eyed him. “Where do you get all this creativity expertise?”

  “You’d be surprised at the amount of creativity it takes to put a ten-million-dollar deal together, agapi mou.” He lifted himself off the chair. “Try it.”

  She chewed on her pencil as he went off to shower. Considered her surroundings and how the lush beauty of the island, the intensity of the colors, the smells inspired her. She started drawing and didn’t stop until Nik came to get her for dinner.

  “Any success?”

  “Yes,” she said, snapping the sketch pad closed.

  “You going to share?”

  “Not yet. They still need lots of work. But I’m happy with them. I think this is the direction I want to go.”

  “Good.” He pointed her toward the villa. “Then I can have your undivided attention over dinner.”

  Nik’s undivided attention proved as heady and fascinating a thing as always. But her head kept skipping forward to what lay ahead, distracting her.

  Nik pointed his wineglass at her as their entrée plates were removed. “Where is your head?”

  “I don’t want to go back,” she admitted. “I wish we could just stay here. Away from all the pressure.”

  “You aren’t marrying a normal man, Sofía. You’re marrying a king.”

  She sighed. “I know. Just wishful thinking.”

  “Come show me your drawings.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “I told you they aren’t ready.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.�
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  She pretended to think about it. But the temptation was too great. Pushing her chair back, she grabbed her sketch pad and walked around the table. Nik pulled her onto his lap, settling her against his chest.

  “I want the truth,” she reminded him, then flicked open the sketch pad and showed him the series of ten drawings she’d decided on, which still needed to be filled out and perfected, but they were a start. She talked him through each one, why she’d done what she’d done, what she liked about them. Nik studied them, then set the sketch pad down.

  “I like them. They’re elegant. Different.”

  She chewed on her lip. “You really like them? You’re not just being nice?”

  “You’re a sure thing,” he murmured. “Why would I be nice?”

  Her mouth fell open. She was about to give him a knock across the head when she saw the sparkle in his eyes. “You are terrible.”

  “Sometimes you need to lighten up.” He nuzzled her cheek, the stubble on his jaw razing her skin. “I think they’re great.”

  She rested her head against his chest, absorbing his warmth. He ran a hand over her hair. “Things are going to get crazy, Sofía. They always do. When it happens, when it feels as if we are surrounded by a force far greater than us, remember we can do this.”

  A sense of foreboding slid through her. “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It won’t be. But you are up to the challenge, agapimeni. I have no doubt.”

  She hoped she was. Thought she might be. Guessed she was about to find out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NIK SLID INTO his car on a bright, sunny afternoon in Akathinia, a peace treaty with Carnelia in hand. A series of meetings between the two countries in the weeks following his return from Evangelina had finally borne fruit as he and Idas had signed the treaty and begun to map out plans for an economic alliance.

  Because he didn’t fully trust the Carnelian king, Nik had also pushed the development of an enhanced military force forward, but it would take months to see real progress on that initiative given the scale and coordination involved. Meanwhile, he would continue to push the alliance forward with his neighbor by putting a framework in place.

  Bringing the Jaguar rumbling to life, his favorite toy to taunt his detail with on the windy, coastal roads, he took the scenic route home to the palace. The sense of well-being that settled over him was profound. His press conference to announce the peace treaty had inspired a feeling of relief and celebration among Akathinians. He could now get on with the business of running this country and looking toward the future rather than the perpetual crisis control mode he’d been in since he’d become king.

  The sparkling Ionian Sea to his right, the spectacular peaks of the Akathinian hills to his left, it was hard not to appreciate what destiny had handed him in that moment. He felt content. It felt right, as if what Sofía had said was true. That perhaps it was his destiny to lead Akathinia at this stage of its history.

  Part of that had come with letting go of his life in New York. Truly letting go of it. He couldn’t live with his head in both places. He’d had to choose. It didn’t mean he would never grieve his former life. It wouldn’t be human for him not to. But as he got more comfortable in his role as king, the affinity he’d always felt toward his homeland had taken over. He knew he could take this country where it needed to go. Knew he had the global perspective his father and Athamos had not.

  If he was content, his fiancée was another reason for it. Having her back in his bed, having that intimate bond to look forward to every evening made the long, complex days bearable. They’d taken to having dinner together in their suite a couple of nights a week so they could spend quality time with each other. He’d found himself sharing more and more of his thoughts and plans with Sofía as the days went on. Her sharp, objective perspective on things always gave him excellent food for thought.

  Thankfully, his soon-to-be wife also seemed to have found a peace of her own. When she wasn’t doing a public appearance with his mother or sister, she was caught up in her designing with a ravenous enthusiasm that made him smile.

  They’d given a joint interview to Akathinian TV last week, their first broadcast interview together. Sofía’s inner happiness had shone through this time, her innate wit and charm capturing the host’s heart and earning her good reviews. The image-conscious press had also picked up on her fashion sense, grudgingly conceding she was a bit of a shining star.

  It was the boost of confidence Sofía had needed. She was acting more like her charismatic self, the woman he’d known in New York. And if that took him dangerously close to exploring uncharted feelings for his soon-to-be wife, he had deliberately held a part of himself back for just that reason. Now was not the time to be clouding his head with emotions he wasn’t capable of fully expressing. Feeling.

  He had promised Sofía a partnership. To protect her, to be by her side. For a man who didn’t do commitment this was one promise he could keep.

  * * *

  They were done. Sofía stood back and surveyed the ten prototypes she’d created for the maternity line she would launch at the boutique, pride swelling her heart. It wasn’t a whole line, but it was ten solid pieces to start the fall/winter collection with next year. Ten pieces Katharine had raved about and couldn’t wait to sell.

  A rather ridiculous number of customers had come in to the boutique asking for the dresses Sofía had worn in her public appearances. The press coverage she had once considered a suffocating fishbowl was paying dividends. The sooner she got these prototypes off to the manufacturer so they could source material for them and produce samples for approval, the better to take advantage of the current buzz surrounding her and Nik’s engagement.

  Satisfaction at a job complete filling her, she leaned back against a table and drank in the late-afternoon sunshine pouring through the windows of the studio. She felt remarkably content. She’d given up her obsession with what the people thought of her because she really couldn’t control that and focused instead on her design work and the creative outlet it provided.

  The restlessness that had consumed her since coming to Akathinia had faded as she’d gained a sense of purpose. When she was using her role for good as she had when she’d visited Stella’s youth group and shared her experiences in business, when she helped Queen Amara with one of her charitable endeavors, she could see a vision for her life here.

  It helped that she and Stella had become fast friends. Although Queen Amara had taken Sofía under her wing and guided her in her role, she had the sense the queen would always have a certain distance about her, just as Nik had said. As if she held part of herself back. Perhaps it was her way of protecting herself against the storms and humiliations she had endured with her husband?

  And then there was Nik. Her insides warmed as they always did when she thought about him. Her cynical, hard fiancé was evolving into a more knowable, approachable version of himself as they continued to deepen their bond. It made her decision to gamble on them, to gamble on the fact he might develop deeper feelings for her someday seem as if it hadn’t quite been the foolish thought it had seemed at the time. That capturing his heart was within the realm of possibility.

  Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. Her heartbeat picked up in anticipation. Nik home already?

  Her suspicion was confirmed as her fiancé walked in, a dark suit complementing his swarthy good looks, a sexy aura of satisfaction surrounding him. She smiled a greeting. “I saw the announcement. Congratulations.”

  He crossed the room and gave her a kiss. “Efharisto. It feels good.” He waved a hand at the prototypes as he released her. “What’s this?”

  “My first ten designs,” she said proudly. “I’m about to ship them off to a manufacturer to get samples made.”

  “That’s exciting.”

  “It i
s. I think we should celebrate.”

  He subjected her to a lazy inspection that bumped her pulse up a notch. “A personal celebration in our rooms later, to be sure, agapimeni, plus I thought I’d take you out to dinner. I have something I want to show you.”

  She loved that idea. “Give me a few minutes to change.”

  * * *

  They dined at a tiny local seafood restaurant along the coast that was known to serve the best food on the island. Then they got back into Nik’s car and drove another few miles to the rugged, most scenic east coast of the island, where the highest peaks of Akathinia dropped in a sheer cliff to the rocky shore below.

  Sofía stepped from the car, her eyes widening as she took in the dramatic view and the remnants of the old fortress scattered along the edge of the cliff.

  “What is this?”

  Nik took her hand by way of answer and led her through the disintegrating ruins out to the edge of the cliff. “Carnelia,” he said, pointing to a dark mass in the distance, lit by the dying rays of the sun. “This is where my great-grandfather King Damokles defeated the Catharian navy to secure Akathinia’s independence. When they attacked us, the Catharians sent a smaller contingent to the harbor as a decoy knowing we would expect them to strike there, then massed most of their troops here. They bet on the fact my great-grandfather would mass his forces at the harbor to defend it, but Damokles was too smart to fall for that. He sent his best troops here, defeated the Catharians, and they retreated, never to come back.”

  Sofía stood there quietly, taking it in. The significance of where they were standing, what it meant to Nik slid over her, giving her goose bumps.

  Nik pointed at the big cannons still guarding the cliff face. “Thousands of men lost their lives defending Akathinia that day. My great-grandfather said it was the bloodiest battle he’d ever been in.”

  She turned to him. “And you will never put your people through that again.”