Page 13 of Back to Claim His Crown
She stared at him, exasperated. But his scent and warmth and proximity confused her all over again and she suddenly had the most absurd urge to fall in and let him embrace her—as if he’d ever do that. This man had returned for his Crown and had no compunction about doing whatever was necessary to restore his rights. He was also wildly arrogant about it.
So she lifted her chin and made herself take a step backwards. ‘I apologise for my apparent lack of gratitude,’ she said. ‘It’s been a very confusing day.’
‘I also apologise,’ he replied roughly. ‘You’re in a vulnerable position. Get some sleep. It won’t seem so bad in the morning.’
She gritted her teeth yet again. Shereallydidn’t want his patronising reassurance. That was when she saw the glimmer of a smile in his eyes.
‘You disagree, Princess?’
Honestly, she completely disagreed. She’d been publicly jilted. Her family had left without her. She’d been accused of trying to entice the new King—by the new King himself, who was infuriatingly attractive.
He was also determinedly self-sufficient. She paused. The man was obviously an absolute survivor. Which was what she now needed to be. So maybe she could learn a few things from him.
As if he would allow that. He had so much else to be getting on with. And now she felt absurdly melancholic. In all likelihood, she would never see him again.
‘I can’t sleep in here,’ she grumbled. ‘It’s your suite.’
‘It has not been mine for so very long that one more night will make little difference.’ He turned and walked away from her. ‘I’ll ensure someone attends to you first thing and gets you wherever you would like to go. Goodbye, Princess.’
CHAPTER FIVE
LUCIANSTEPPEDINTOthe corridor, released a tightly held breath and tried to summon self-control. He’d had only a few moments to himself before another meeting and hadn’t expected to spend them stripping someone else’s bride and trading lack of sexual histories with her. It had beenmadness.But he’d been unable to resist. In truth, that was the longest private conversation he’d had with another person in ages and, to his amazement, he’d enjoyed it. The little princess who’d usurped his bedroom was surprisingly forthright and feisty and now he needed a moment because his response to her had becomeintense.
Initially he’d thought he might learn something useful from her. While it seemed unlikely she was a confidante of Anders, given his ungallant outburst in the cathedral, his cousin could pull off a bluff better than anyone. So Lucian had held back the information about her mother and then watched closely for her reaction when he’d finally informed her. She’d been utterly transparent—humiliated, hurt and hopelessly honest.
Shehadn’tbeen waiting to greet him in that stunning redundant wedding gown. And the bluntness with which she’d admitted her ‘flaws’—that her appearance was as fake as her nails; that she’d undergone a makeover to pretend to be a perfect princess; that she’d actually thought everyone was looking at herdressand not the delectable form beneath it or the beautiful depths of her eyes, all confirmed his gut impression that she was utterly naive. If he had a heart he’d consider it endearing. Instead, it infuriated him. How could Garth have ever considered her to be an appropriate match for Anders?
Furthermore, it infuriated him that she was still here. Becausehisreaction to her was infuriating. It had been from the first.
In the cathedral, in that moment when he’d finally been about to confront Anders face to face, he’d been blinded by her beauty. But now he’d discovered that beneath that cloudy veil and glittering jewels was no perfect princess at all. She was so much better—imperfectlygenuine—and he’d been compelled to get closer still. It was shocking. But he reasoned that his awareness of her was just a base reaction because of his entirely stressed-out state. He was operating on pure adrenalin andallhis senses were hyperalert. So this intensely physical response was merely an outlet for some of the pressure of this whole situation. It wasn’treal. If he ever saw her again in the future he’d likely feel little. Because ordinarily he felt little for anyone.
His emotional bonds had been destroyed in the aftermath of his ‘accident’. His cousin’s betrayal was bad enough but his mother’s death so soon after had devastated him completely and he’d resolved to remain focused on his duty first and for ever.
Because it was his fault that she’d died alone and heartbroken. His fault that he and Anders had been on that boat in the first place. Because he’d been a selfish, petulant teen who’d wanted time to himself, a holiday, leaving his mother alone when she’d needed him most.
His loyalty to his friend, King Niko of Piri-nu, was the last true bond that remained from his past. They’d met at school—one of those elite institutions that apparently Zara hadn’t been allowed to attend. They’d been proud alpha princes, battling each other for academic and sporting supremacy and becoming best friends in the attempt. It had been Niko who’d saved his life after the accident when, injured and in hiding, Lucian had sent him coded word. But while Lucian would feel indebted to Niko for ever, he’d repaid him all he could in time and service. Now Monrayne needed all his attention.
He huffed out another breath to push away the ache that princess had left him with. Then he hunted down a servant and demanded they provide the princess with a phone and food first thing and then make whatever travel arrangements she wanted.
At last he returned to the courtiers who’d gathered in the throne room. The assorted dignitaries attending the wedding had rapidly left Monrayne. He wasn’t offended. Given there was a chance of upheaval and civil unrest following his wholly astonishing return, he too would’ve advised anyone who wasn’t a citizen to leave. Just in case. Which was why it was shocking to him that Princess Zara had been so abandoned by her family. And if she’d not been properly educated or able to enter society then no wonder she’d wanted to escape her home so completely.
But he knew it was safe enough for her to stay the night for there would be no constitutional crisis here. While the media was still in a frenzy, the swelling crowds at the gate were calm—holding candles and alternating between chanting his name and singing the national anthem. Their continued celebrations took him aback, as did the fact they were calling his return a miracle. Lucian just felt all the more guilty. He should have returned sooner. But he’d owed Niko and he’d needed to wait for the right time.
Anders’s disappearance now was yet more proof of his nature. But he would be detained the second he emerged from whatever rock he was hiding beneath. He was too greedy to survive long without the luxury and excess he was used to. He was also too arrogant to believe he was in any real danger. But the fact was Lucian was the least of his threats, for without his protection officers Anders would be more vulnerable to the wrath of the criminal figures he’d tangled with in recent years.
Lucian’s immediate duty had to be to stabilise his country. He didn’t fear for his own safety now he was here and recognised. It wouldn’t take long to secure the new succession plan so there was no chance of Anders taking the Crown, even if the worst were to happen. He dealt with Garth swiftly. Both sycophantic and defensive, the man actually offered his services. Lucian made him surrender his diplomatic passport and papers and then had him escorted to his apartment, where he would remain under guard. Tempting as it was to toss him straight into the palace dungeons, he didn’t. There would be a trial for fraud. Until then, house arrest. Lucian would do things by the book.
It was only a few hours from dawn when he finally called a halt to the meetings. He slowly walked through the tunnel, returning to the cathedral—this time going down the stone steps and using the heavy iron key to unlock the family crypt.
His father had died so long ago Lucian barely remembered him, but he’d loved his mother. He pressed his hand against the cold stone that marked her resting place and bowed his head as remorse devastated him. Anders had caused so much hurt to a woman who had already lost so much. To a woman who’d offered him only welcome. But Anders had only been able to do that because of Lucian. The accident had been Lucian’s own fault.
He’d been selfish. He’d known she was unwell but he’d pushed to go on his precious ‘holiday’ anyway. He’d left her alone when she was vulnerable. And she’d died believing him to be dead. At that moment he almost had been. He’d been fighting for his life in a battle with pneumonia on the other side of the world in Piri-nu. If he’d only done as she’d first asked, if he’d simply done his duty, then he wouldn’t have been on that boat with Anders and his mother wouldn’t have died so much sooner than she ever should have.
So now, as he bowed his head, he offered his apologies silently. But he could never forgive himself for it. He could only vow to do better. He would give his country the decade of service he’d denied it—his undivided, complete attention. He would become the monarch his country deserved and honour his mother’s legacy at last.
Eventually he returned to his old wing and took a room that had once been reserved for his servant. But he couldn’t sleep. Memories tormented him. Such betrayal. Such bitterness.
But suddenlynewmemories stole in—ones infinitely preferable to the usual nightmares. He closed his eyes and breathed deep—hearing Princess Zara’s soft gasp as he’d stood too close to her; feeling her slender wrists and the warmth of her sensitive, silken skin with its patchwork of pink and scarlet; the curve of her breasts had made his mouth water. He hadn’t touched anyone in a long time and her skin was tantalisingly soft. His body achedhard.
