But one more discovery and everything had changed. There was more on offer now. More than he could ever have dreamed of. He wanted more. And there was one way he was sure of getting it.
‘So now how about you tell me the real truth?’
He saw the wariness in her eyes, the shadow that crossed her face, and it made him all the more determined to get to the bottom of all of this.
He’d planned on giving her another chance to give him the real facts this morning, but the truth was that as soon as she’d started to speak his concentration had been shot to pieces. All he could focus on was the way she looked, with that dark auburn hair pulled back into a pony tail so that it exposed the fine bone structure of her features, the brilliance of her eyes. Tiny silver earrings sparkled in her lobes, seeming to catch the flash of her eyes as she leaned towards him, elegant hands coming up to emphasise her points. The movement of her mouth fascinated him, the soft rose-tinted curve of her lips moving to emphasise what she had to say, the faint sheen of moisture on them making him want to lean forward and kiss her hard and fierce, plunge his tongue into her open mouth and taste her again as he had done the night before.
She hadn’t said anything about Ivan and that made him grit his teeth tight against the questions that needed answers. Now he couldn’t look at her without thinking about Ivan—and about her with Ivan. Acid rose in his throat at just the thought of it and the blood heated in his veins, making his heart punch harshly, a pulse throbbing near his temple. The thought of her with anyone else—anyone but him—was too much to take. But with Ivan...
And that feeling—that fury of jealousy, the hunger, that sensation of being alive that had been missing in his life for so long—told him so much. It erased the numbness he had been living—existing—with, the deadness that had invaded his world since the loss of first his father, and later the baby daughter he had barely started to get to know. He hadn’t felt this way in years and he wanted it back. And he wanted Ria, as the woman who had given sensation back to him.
‘That if you can’t persuade me to take the throne, then you are tied into a contract to marry Ivan, and so strengthen his claim to the inheritance. Tell me—why not just go with the marriage to Ivan? After all it would make you Queen of Mecjoria.’
‘My father might want that, perhaps, but not me!’
But this was what her father had been training her for, the summit of her family’s ambitions. And if being queen had been her ambition too then all she had had to do was to leave the marriage document where it was.
‘You don’t want to be queen?’
‘And you want to be king?’ she tossed back, earning herself a faint, twisted smile and an ironical inclination of his head in acknowledgement of the hit. But she hadn’t spent the past ten years exiled from the country he was now supposed to rule.
‘Where was the marriage certificate found?’ he demanded now, wanting to get at the truth.
It was a question she didn’t want to answer, that much was obvious, and yet he didn’t think she was trying to deceive him. Sharp white teeth dug into the softness of her lower lip, and he was suddenly assailed by the impulse to protest at the damage she was doing to the delicate skin. Instead he made himself repeat the question in order to divert his thoughts.
‘Where?’
Her delicate chin came up defiantly, gold-green eyes blazing into his.
‘My father had it all the time. It was in his safe when I checked in there after he was arrested. My mother begged me to look for something that might help.’ Once more her teeth worried at her lip as she obviously had to push herself to go on. ‘I also found the contract between him and Ivan then.’
‘You hadn’t known before?’
He could well believe that of Gregor, conspiring with anyone he could in secret. But would he really sign his daughter’s life away without her knowing?
‘I knew nothing about it!’ There was the tremor of real horror in her voice.
‘Your father can’t force you into this.’
Her soft mouth twisted into an expression of resignation—or was it bitterness?
‘In Mecjoria, royalty—even unimportant royalty like me—don’t expect to marry for love. Dynastic contracts matter so much more than personal feelings. And right now peace is what matters. I meant everything I said about the possible consequences if the succession isn’t easy and smooth. If not you, then Ivan is the only logical candidate.’
‘But neither of us wants Ivan to take the throne.’
‘No, we both know what a disaster that would be.’
The way she rushed to agree with him, the tone in which she did it, scraped roughly across his exposed skin. The mood of calm and control that had come from feeling that he had her just where he wanted her was starting to fray at the edges, coming unravelled with every breath he drew in. Last night she had claimed she’d given him every argument she possessed but she’d kept this vital point carefully back. And hiding that point showed him just how much she had wanted to influence him into agreeing to her plans without ever knowing the full story.
She had only forced herself to come to him because she had no possible alternative. Because her country needed it now that she had proof that he wasn’t illegitimate, that he was truly as royal as she was—more. But because she needed it too. Would she have told him about the document if she hadn’t also been able to use it to her own advantage? Because she wasn’t prepared to sacrifice her own freedom in order to rescue the place herself. She hadn’t reckoned on him ever finding out about the proposed union between her family and Ivan’s—at least not until it was too late.
‘So you will do as I ask? You will take the throne?’
There was a very different mood in the words, with a whole new sparkle in those eyes, a lift to the warm curve of her mouth. She thought she had got what she wanted from him—that she had worked out a way of ensuring an heir to the throne but without her having to tie herself into marriage with the only other candidate for the crown. So that he could live the restricted, controlled life of a royal while she kept her freedom and could live as she pleased.
He felt used, manipulated. But it didn’t stop him wanting her.
And wanting her didn’t stop him recognising that her father had done a good job in training her up to be a queen—whoever’s wife she might be. From acknowledging what an asset she would be as anyone’s consort—and it didn’t have to be Ivan’s. He didn’t want her to be Ivan’s any more than she did.
‘I could be persuaded,’ he said slowly.
The light that her smile brought to her eyes almost made him lose his grip on his temper as icy rage swamped him. She thought she was winning and that pushed him dangerously close to the edge. All he wanted was to pull the rug out from under her, let her know that he already had all her secrets and he fully intended to use them to his own advantage.
But there was more pleasure in letting things out bit by bit than in dumping everything on her all at once.
‘I will do as you ask,’ he said slowly, keeping his eyes locked on her face to enjoy watching her reaction. ‘But there are terms.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘TERMS?’ RIA ECHOED the word on a note of pure horror. ‘What sort of terms?’
‘Terms that you and I need to agree between us. We need to plan the future.’
‘But we have no future...’
She looked so appalled at the thought of any more time spent with him. She would even refute the flames that burned between them if she could. It was there in the darkness that clouded her eyes, the way she was fighting to deny there was anything between them.
‘You think?’
Their eyes clashed, held for a moment. Hers were the first to drop as she recognised the unyielding challenge in his.
‘What terms?’ she asked.
So much of the attack had gone out of her voice, leaving it weakened and deflated. Was it possible that she suspected what was coming? A dark wave of satisfaction flooded through his veins.
‘I will be king—on the same conditions as it would have been for Ivan to take the throne.’
It took a moment for her to register just what he had said, several more to have the words sink in and the meaning behind the flat statement become real. He watched every change of emotion spill across her face, the way that it tightened the muscles around her mouth and jaw, made her elegant throat contract on a hard swallow. One that he felt echo in his own throat as he fought the urge to press his lips to the pale skin of her neck and follow the movement down.
‘But those conditions were only for Ivan...’ Ria stammered.
She still hadn’t quite realised just what he was talking about. Either that or she didn’t want to accept that he could actually mean it.
‘It’s that or nothing. And I wish you joy being Ivan’s wife.’