The Royal House Of Karedes: Two Kingdoms

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Silence. Then Maria felt Alex clasp her hand under cover of the table and enfold it in his own.

“Maria is an artist, Father. Her creations are, in a sense, representations of a life force—in this case, a celebration of Mother’s birthday as well as the continuity of our people. She’s simply trying to gain some understanding of our kingdom. Isn’t that right, Maria?”

“Yes,” she said, staring at Alex, amazed he should instinctively comprehend what most people did not. “Stories, legends, history… those are some of the qualities my work is meant to convey.”

“Well, our history isn’t very complicated,” Sebastian said pleasantly. “The Kingdom of Adamas dates back to ancient Rome and Greece.”

“Yes,” Maria said again. “Alex told me it did.”

“Aristo was the island from which the kingdom was ruled. It grew wealthy on its trade routes with Greece, Turkey and Egypt,” Andreas said. “Calista had—has—its diamond mines. Pink diamonds. Very rare—but, of course, you know that.”

Alex squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“The Karedes family—our family—got fat and rich trading those diamonds to Europe.” He smiled wryly. “As you can probably imagine, the Calistans didn’t like that. My grandfather—”

“King Christos,” Maria said.

“Yes. He tried to alleviate the tension but it didn’t work, so he announced that on his death, he’d leave Aristo to be ruled by my father and Calista to be ruled by my father’s sister, Anya.”

“And the people accepted that?”

“What else could they do?” Sebastian said. “But Christos always hoped for a reconciliation. Part of what he said, when he made his decision public, was that he wished the two halves of the Stefani diamond would someday be reunited and that when they were, the island would also be reunited as one nation, the nation of Adamas. We call it Christos’s Legacy.”

Kitty nodded. “But it hasn’t happened.”

“That must have been a difficult time for everyone.” Maria looked at the king. “For you and your sister, especially, sir.”

“It’s all in the past,” Aegeus snapped. “And I fail to see a need to go through it with a stranger.” He tossed his napkin on the table. “You are to make a necklace for the queen, Ms. Santos, not write our family’s history.”

“Just a minute,” Alex began, but Maria spoke first.

“My sole interest is in making the necklace as meaningful and perfect a gift as possible, sir.” She sounded composed but Alex recognized that distinct, don’t-screw-with-me lift of her chin. “I regret that you don’t see it that way.”

Alex bit back a grin. His Maria had been nervous about dining with royalty, but she sure as hell had the balls to stand up to Aegeus. His brothers were trying not to smile; his sister looked as if she might fly from her seat, grab Maria and kiss her. The queen gave a soft cough and covered her mouth with her napkin.

Aegeus looked as if he weren’t sure if he’d been insulted or not. Finally he nodded, shoved back his chair and got to his feet.

The meal was over.

“Perhaps I overreacted, Ms. Santos. At any rate, a perfect gift is my wish, too. And now, if you require nothing further—”

“Actually,” Maria said carefully, “actually, sir, I do.”

Aegeus stared at her. So did the others. You could push the king just so far and then you had to stand back before the explosion.

“Do you, indeed?” he said coldly.

Maria looked determined but she was shaking. Enough, Alex decided, and, despite all the eyes on her, he moved closer and slipped his arm around her shoulders. At first, she stiffened. Then he felt her lean into him.

“It’s—it’s a request, sir.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like to see the Aristan crown.”

“You have seen it,” the king said coolly. “My people provided you with photographs.”

“Photos aren’t the same as the real thing, Your Majesty.”

“Impossible. For security purposes, the crown is kept in the royal vaults.”

“Surely, it can be taken out of the vaults, Father,” Alex said quietly.

“There is no need.”

“Oh, but there is, sir,” Maria said quickly. “I need to be certain the center diamond in the necklace, the big pink one, will be the correct shade. A diamond’s true color can never be conveyed through a photo, no matter how good the photo is.”

“You mentioned color in your proposal. That is the reason I provided you with two large pink stones rather than one.” The king’s lips twisted. “Surely you noticed that.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. And I very much appreciate that thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, and expensive, Ms. Santos.”

“It was a generous thing to do, sir.” Maria drew a breath. “But there are slight variations in the colors of the two pink diamonds. That’s all the more reason for seeing the crown.”

“I refer you, again, to the photographs. I have been assured that digital photos are quite accurate.”

“Not when it comes to color,” Maria said with quiet determination. “Plus, I need to see, to touch the Aristan half of the Stefani diamond.” She flushed. “Stones have a way of speaking to those who work with them, sir. I know it may sound strange—”

“Strange?” Aegeus snorted. “It would seem I was correct in fearing this young woman might be a leftover flower child,” he said to no one in particular, “instead of a jewelry maker.”

“Actually, Father,” Alex said coldly, “Maria is neither.” He felt her body jerk against his. Deliberately, he drew her closer. “She is an artist, and we are very fortunate she agreed to create this piece.” His eyes met Aegeus’s. “I think you owe her an apology.”

The king’s face turned red. No one spoke for what seemed an eternity. Then the queen cleared her throat, stood and took her husband’s arm.

“Aegeus, Alexandros. Please, let’s not spoil the wonderful plans for my birthday celebration. I am so excited about this necklace… Just think, Aegeus, the entire world will be watching when you present it to me. The necklace should, indeed, be as perfect as Ms. Santos can make it, should it not? It should glow with the same light as the Aristan crown, especially since you’ll be wearing the crown that night.”

Silence. A muscle knotted in Alex’s jaw. Then he nodded.

“Mother is right, Father. I’m sorry if I seemed rude, but I spoke the truth. Maria’s talent will ensure that people everywhere will talk of Aristo, its crown and the queen’s matching necklace for years to come.”

The king stood as still as a statue. Then, at last, he jerked his head in assent.

“I’ll make the arrangements. Ms. Santos, you shall have five minutes with the crown and the Stefani diamond. Five minutes, and not a second more. Is that clear?”

Maria stepped free of Alex’s encircling arm and made a deep curtsy.

“It is, sir. And thank you. You won’t regret your decision.”

Aegeus looked at her. A shadow seemed to pass over his face.

“I hope not,” he said, and strode away.

They drove back to the mansion in silence.

The gates swung open; the Ferrari purred down the long drive. When they reached the house, Alex turned off the engine, stepped from the car, opened Maria’s door and thought what an amazing woman she was.

Bright. Talented. Strong.

And lovely.

Incredibly lovely, in the moonlight.

She would be even more lovely in his bed.

Naked. Her eyes on his as he undressed. Her arms reaching for him as he came to her and she would reach for him, he would find a way to make her admit how much she wanted him—and yet, at this moment, what he wanted most was to kiss away the worried furrow between her eyes, the sad little down-curve of her mouth.

He held out his hand. “We’re home,” he said softly.

She nodded, took his hand and stepped from the car.

“Your father will probably send me back to the States tomorrow.”

Alex smiled. “No danger of that,” he said as they walked to the door. “He’s trapped. My mother, clever woman that she is, reminded him that the world will be watching when she celebrates her birthday.”

“Don’t try and make it sound as if I didn’t behave foolishly!”

“The word I’d use is ‘bravely.’”

“I don’t know what got into me. It’s just—”

“What got into you,” he said, turning her to him, “was all that fiery passion you do your best to hide.”

“I don’t hide anything. I just—”

“And you do a pretty good job of it—until something comes along and heats your blood.” He opened the door to the sleeping house, then turned toward her again and caught a cluster of silky curls in his fingers. “Tonight, it was the ridiculous behavior of a king.”

“No. I mean, I only—”

“And your dedication to your art.”

“That’s—that’s nice of you to say, but I made everyone uncomfortable——”

“And me.” His voice roughened. He cupped the nape of her neck, slipped his fingers into her hair and tilted her face to his. “I heat your blood, agapimeni. As you heat mine.”

He bent his head and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss, the soft whisper of his lips over hers, but it made him groan.

“Maria,” he said softly, and he felt her tremble. “Maria,” he said again, and her arms rose, wound around his neck; she lifted herself to him, sighed his name and when he kissed her again he went deep. Deeper, letting the taste of her fill his senses, the feel of her feed his soul…

And he knew, without question, that he could not, would not hold her to the devil’s bargain they’d made.

Gently, he cupped her face and drew back. Her eyes opened slowly; she looked up at him, her pupils dark and wide and blurred with desire or perhaps with tears. It killed him that he couldn’t tell the difference.