Promoted to His Princess Read online

  Except a deeper part of her knew—even if she hadn’t been fully conscious of it herself—that if she did that, it wouldn’t end there, and she’d seen the confirmation deep in the glittering darkness of his eyes. In the tension around them.

  And so she’d managed to pull herself back, her heart hammering.

  Then he’d left and she’d waited five minutes before jerking the door open, intending to go back to the barracks, grab her belongings and leave the palace immediately. To escape him, escape Itheus, and lose herself somewhere else—though quite where she hadn’t thought.

  But the moment she’d pulled the door open, a couple of guards she didn’t recognise had materialised with instructions to escort her to one of the palace’s guest bedrooms. And it was clear that she had no choice in the matter.

  By this stage, her hot rush of anger had gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her exhausted, and she didn’t have the energy to protest. She’d gone without a word to the guest bedroom provided, and as she’d entered she’d seen them station themselves outside the door; it was clear they were there not to protect her from people coming in, but to stop her from leaving.

  She was, essentially, a prisoner.

  She’d thought she wouldn’t sleep, that her anger at Xerxes and her fear of what was going to happen to the life she’d planned for herself would prevent her. But she’d run through a few of the disciplinary exercises she’d used back in basic training to calm herself down and get herself under control again. Then she’d lain down on the bed fully dressed...and the next minute she was awake and it was morning.

  Her eyes felt gritty though and exhaustion had soaked into her bones. She still hadn’t quite processed how completely her life had changed in the space of a few hours. How she had been planning for a future promotion to the king’s guard, only to find herself ordered to marry the very prince she’d been guarding only a day or so ago.

  It didn’t feel real.

  Hauling herself out of bed still fully dressed, Calista went through into the en-suite bathroom and splashed some water onto her face, trying to work out what she was going to do now.

  Because one thing was certain: she couldn’t marry the prince.

  It wasn’t only the difference in their stations that made it impossible, it was also that Axios had her heart and she was dedicated to defending it. She didn’t want or need anything else in her life.

  What about your child?

  But she was saved from having to think about that as a knock came on the door and when she went to open it she found another couple of guards waiting outside. Again, they weren’t people she recognised, which was a relief, but then she was informed that she was to be escorted out to the palace’s helipad immediately, which wasn’t.

  Her heart thumped painfully hard behind her breastbone, her confusion deepening as one of the guards went past her into the room and picked up the leather bag sitting at the end of the bed—a leather bag she hadn’t even noticed.

  And there was no chance to even ask what it was, because then she was ushered out of the room and marched through the echoing stone corridors, down a flight of stairs, then outside into the sunshine. They followed a curving path lined with cypresses that led to the wide, flat area of the helipad, where a sleek, black helicopter waited, a man moving purposefully around it.

  It wasn’t until she got closer that she realised the man was Xerxes and that he was making last-minute checks with the kind of casual competence that spoke of experience.

  The guards approached the helicopter, and Xerxes spotted them, finishing up whatever check he was doing and coming to intercept them.

  Calista stiffened as the guards came to a stop and Xerxes approached.

  He was really too beautiful to be real, the epitome of the handsome prince in a tight-fitting black T-shirt and jeans, sunglasses held carelessly in one hand as he came towards them. Sunlight glossed his night-black hair and he was smiling his usual charming smile, but the look in his dark eyes missed nothing.

  ‘Good morning, Calista,’ he said, his deep voice winding around her like soft black velvet. ‘Are you ready for your flight today?’

  One of the guards had moved to the helicopter with the bag he’d picked up from her room and was now stowing it.

  ‘Flight?’ Her heartbeat thumped even harder. ‘What flight?’

  ‘I thought a little trip was in order. A chance to work out our differences before the engagement announcement.’ He gave a minute nod to both guards and the two then turned and marched away, leaving her and Xerxes alone.

  ‘Engagement announcement? But I’m not—’

  ‘Time to board,’ he said calmly, moving over to the helicopter and pulling open the door, indicating she was to get inside. ‘I’ll answer your questions as we fly.’

  Calista’s mouth had gone dry and she felt sick again. She’d eaten only fruit the night before and she’d had no breakfast this morning, and now she was being taken by helicopter God only knew where by this prince...

  ‘No,’ she said, trying to keep her voice level. ‘You need to answer them now.’

  He lifted a brow in that infuriating way he had. ‘Issuing orders now, I see. That’s good. A princess needs to know how to lead.’

  She ignored him. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where we’re going.’ Her hands had closed into fists yet again, her temper straining at the leash. She’d never felt so close to the edge, and that was a bad thing. She couldn’t look weak, not in front of him, not when she’d let her guard down with him once already. He was a warrior, a predator. He’d take shameless advantage of all those cracks in her armour and, since pregnancy played havoc with emotional regulation, she would have to be extra careful.

  His gaze narrowed, roving over her, assessing her. ‘We’re going to my villa on the coast for a while—at least until the news of my broken engagement has been disseminated and the scandal has had a chance to die down.’

  He’d broken it off. He’d really broken it off.

  ‘You can’t—’ she began.

  ‘I did,’ he finished, amusement flickering in his eyes. ‘You have to marry me now, soldier, or else I’m ruined.’ His hand came beneath her elbow, urging her gently towards the helicopter. ‘Come on, it’s not a long flight and you’ll have food waiting for you, I promise.’

  And even though she wanted to stand her ground and protest, she found herself moving, drawn along by his irresistible strength and by the shameless need inside her for the warmth of his hand on her arm.

  ‘But who’s flying the helicopter?’ she asked as he helped her up into the machine.

  He grinned, a hint of boyishness in it that she didn’t want to find charming. ‘I am.’

  Before she could ask any more questions, he’d shut the door and moved around to the pilot’s side. Then he got in himself and five minutes later they were airborne, the palace and Itheus falling away beneath them as Xerxes headed north, towards the mountains and the coast.

  He handled the machine expertly, as if he’d done nothing but fly helicopters all his life, which, given that he’d spent a good proportion of his exile touring the beds of socialites all over Europe, couldn’t possibly be true.

  ‘Where did you learn to fly?’ she asked, desperate to fill the tense silence with something, anything to distract herself from the riot of feelings inside her.

  He flashed her a glance, his mouth turning up as if he was pleased with the question. ‘The army.’ Even over the headset mike, his voice sounded like melted honey, rich and warm. ‘I loved flying, so I kept my hand in even after I left the military.’

  She knew she should keep quiet, that talking would only betray her own nervousness and uncertainty, but he was so confident and sure that she couldn’t help wanting to do something to put a dent in him.

  ‘Why did you leave the military again?’ she asked, knowing fu
ll well what the answer was.

  He gave a low laugh. ‘My father banished me for cowardice, as I’m sure you’re well aware.’

  He wasn’t looking at her, his attention on the controls, his profile seemingly untroubled. And yet she heard the slight edge in his voice.

  So, she’d got to him, had she? Good.

  ‘Why?’ she asked bluntly, taking the opportunity to put the pressure on him for a change. ‘What did you do?’

  He flashed her another glance, his expression enigmatic. ‘You really want to have this discussion now?’

  ‘Why not? I’ve got nothing else to do.’

  He looked away, lifting a casual shoulder, as if it was nothing to him. ‘I was captured by the enemy on a mission in the Middle East. We all had cyanide capsules to take in case of torture and we were all expected to take them to safeguard military secrets. I should have taken mine, but I didn’t. I ended up being rescued by my brother, who went against orders to do it. My father was furious. He told me I should have died and that by not killing myself I’d endangered the entire country. So he exiled me.’

  Calista’s gut lurched. His voice had been utterly normal, as if relating a story about something innocuous and not about capture and death. As if it had happened to someone else.

  So that was the truth about why he’d been disinherited and banished. The truth about his so-called cowardice. He was supposed to have killed himself and hadn’t.

  ‘I...didn’t know,’ she said hesitantly. As a soldier, she should have treated this admission with the disgust it deserved, since a loyal soldier would always die before betraying his or her country’s secrets. Yet...it wasn’t disgust that she felt right now. It was something else. Something she couldn’t identify.

  ‘No, of course you didn’t.’ He adjusted something on his controls. ‘My father refused to speak of me after I left.’

  The emotion clenched tighter and more questions bubbled up inside her. Why hadn’t he taken the pill? Why was his father furious? Wouldn’t the king have been happy his son was alive?

  But no, she shouldn’t be getting curious about him. She shouldn’t want to know. What she should be doing was trying to get him to drop this marriage idea, because it was insane.

  She knew how to kill a man, how to march for miles with a heavy load, how to disassemble a firearm in seconds and then put it back together again. How to stand at attention for hours, alert to the slightest movement.

  She’d put work and effort and time into her military career and she did not want it to be derailed because she’d somehow forgotten all those lessons in control her father had taught her, about the dangers of giving in to your own wants and needs, of putting yourself first.

  Her country was the most important thing in her life aside from her father, and she couldn’t allow one mistake to jeopardise it.

  Calista turned away to look out at the mountains passing beneath them, gritting her teeth against the stupid tears that pricked behind her eyes.

  Why was she crying? She was a soldier. She was strong. Which meant it had to be the pregnancy hormones affecting her. Perhaps she’d leave off asking questions and instead try to come up with a plan so he’d drop the idea of marrying her.

  So all she said was, ‘I’m sorry.’

  He only shrugged and said nothing more.

  The rest of the trip was spent in silence, but, as he’d promised, it wasn’t a long one. Barely an hour later, they were coming down to land on the flat stone roof of a palatial villa built into the cliffside. A small beach covered in perfect white sand lay below it, with a deep, crystalline blue ocean lapping at the shore.

  Immediately the helicopter landed, they were met by a swarm of staff, one taking her bag and a second bag that must have belonged to the prince, while another few surrounded Xerxes, obviously receiving orders.

  A few more surrounded her, preparing to usher her inside, but the prince waved them away and abruptly they were alone again, standing on the roof while a fresh sea breeze smelling of salt and sunlight played with the ends of her hair.

  ‘Come,’ Xerxes said, making no move to touch her this time. ‘Do you want to eat first or shall I show you around?’

  Calista squared her shoulders, standing at attention. ‘Neither, Your Highness. I’d prefer to go home.’

  He gave her another of those measuring looks. ‘Food, I think. We’ll discuss it over brunch.’

  Calista opened her mouth to protest, but he was already walking away towards the stairs that led down to the rest of the house. Which left her with two choices. Either she could stand here stubbornly waiting until he saw sense, or she could follow him.

  Glancing regretfully at the helicopter—she’d never learned how to fly, though it was something she’d always wanted to do—Calista sighed. Waiting here would be pointless, since if she wanted to change his mind she’d actually have to talk to him. And besides, a soldier needed strength to fight and she was certainly intending to fight.

  Forcing her sullen temper away, she followed him reluctantly.

  The villa was amazing. Constructed of white stone and over several levels, it tumbled down the side of the cliff in a series of boxes and terraces, with huge windows that made the most of the astonishing views over the sea.

  On one of the terraces was a long, deep blue infinity pool, while on another there was a garden with pots of trees and shrubs and flowers.

  A long, heavy, rustic wooden table shaded by grapevines growing over a wooden frame stood on yet another and it was here that brunch had been laid out, the table covered by a white tablecloth and set with fresh, crusty bread, butter, all kinds of preserves and a carafe of coffee and glasses of orange juice. A basket of pastries stood near the coffee, while a platter of crispy bacon made her stomach growl.

  Xerxes flung himself down in one of the heavy wooden chairs, the seat covered with bright cushions, and gestured at her to do the same.

  She felt an irresistible urge to stand just to spite him, but she wasn’t quite that petty, so she sat, unwillingly pleased at how comfortable the seat was.

  The prince reached for the coffee, pouring out two mugs and pushing one to her, before grabbing a plate and filling it with bacon, the fresh bread and some pastries, which he also pushed in her direction. ‘Eat that before we start,’ he ordered. ‘You look like you’re going to pass out at any second.’

  He wasn’t wrong. The food smelled so good and it was making her feel light-headed. Irritated both at herself and at him, Calista began to eat, trying to ignore him as he ripped a piece off the bread with those long, competent fingers and buttered it for himself, slathering it in honey.

  It made her wonder if he had a sweet tooth, and then immediately she was irritated yet again at herself for even wondering about it in the first place.

  She didn’t care if he had a sweet tooth. She didn’t care about him.

  What she was going to do was eat, then tell him in no uncertain terms that marrying him was impossible and that she needed to go back to the palace before anyone realised she was missing.

  And the baby? What are you going to do about that?

  That she would work out later.

  ‘So,’ he said at last, after she’d eaten at least two pieces of bread, numerous rashers of bacon, and three pastries. ‘Let’s hear your objections to marriage.’

  Calista took a sip of her orange juice, surprised he was giving her a voice. ‘I thought my objections didn’t matter?’

  ‘They don’t. Nevertheless, I’d still like to hear them.’

  He was honest, she’d give him that.

  She sat back in her seat and gave him a level look. ‘I’d have thought it was obvious what my objections were.’

  ‘It’s not obvious, which is why I asked you to tell me.’

  She held up a hand, ticking them off on her fingers. ‘First, you’re a prince and I
’m a palace guard. Second, I have dedicated myself in service to my country and there is no room in my life for anything else, let alone a husband. Third, we don’t know each other, let alone love each other. And fourth...you didn’t even ask me what I wanted to do.’

  Xerxes’ dark eyes gave nothing away. ‘And what is it that you wanted to do?’

  That was the issue. She didn’t know, not when it came to dealing with the child. Children had not featured anywhere in her future plans for herself and never had. Neither had a husband. All she’d wanted was to serve her country, be the kind of loyal, true soldier that her father...

  Oh, God. Her father.

  Cold crept through her, winding deep into her heart.

  ‘I want to serve Axios,’ she said, trying to ignore it. ‘That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. And perhaps be promoted to the king’s guard. I...hadn’t thought of children.’

  Xerxes didn’t move and yet a sense of threat radiated suddenly from him, the powerful force of his will pushing against her. ‘You’ll be keeping it.’ There was a whole world of certainty in those words that left no room for argument.

  Of course. She hadn’t considered her options, had she? And adoption was one of those options. But as soon as the thought occurred to her, something twisted in her gut.

  Could she really give this child to someone else? Abandon it to suit herself and her own needs?

  You’ve put yourself first before and look how that turned out.

  No, she’d followed her mother that day after school because she’d been suspicious. It didn’t have anything to do with her own anger because Nerida had cancelled a much anticipated shopping trip.

  And she’d been right to be suspicious, as it had turned out. She’d seen Nerida kissing a man who wasn’t Calista’s father, and so she’d gone home straight away and told her father.

  She was a good and loyal soldier, exactly as he’d said.

  It certainly wasn’t a betrayal simply because you were furious and hurt.

  Calista forced that thought away, looking down at her stomach, still flat though perhaps a little softer than it should have been. There was a life inside there, a son or a daughter to protect and defend.