“Dirk!” Sabrina’s tone chided her husband, and he gently patted her arm.
“Don’t worry, Bree. I’m not telling Juliana anything she doesn’t already know.” He glanced back at Juliana. “Am I.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.” Her voice was husky. “But he’s not going to have me.” Not ever again.
“Want me to pound him into the ground for you?” he teased.
She laughed as he had intended her to do, although a little shakily. “I’ll fight my own battles, thank you very much.” She glanced from Dirk to Andre across the room, and back to Dirk again. Both men were close in age, of a similar height and weight, and in superb physical shape. But still... “If I were you,” she drawled, teasing him back, “I wouldn’t be too quick to take him on. He’s a fighter. He trained with the Zakharian National Forces, and he doesn’t look as if he’s lost his edge.”
Dirk spluttered with laughter and looked down at his wife. “Did you hear that, Bree? I think she just insulted my manhood.”
Now it was Bree who patted his arm. “That’s okay. You’re man enough for me, honey, and that’s all that counts.” Husband and wife stared into each other’s eyes, private smiles forming as they retreated to their own little world, and a pang of pain darted through Juliana when she saw the unshadowed love for each other in their faces.
* * *
Andre watched Juliana from afar, watched as she spoke with the man he recognized as Dirk DeWinter, the actor who would be portraying his legendary ancestor in King’s Ransom opposite Juliana. His gaze sharpened into something cold and deadly when the man caressed Juliana’s cheek in a comforting fashion. Juliana’s name had never been linked romantically with DeWinter’s. Nevertheless, Andre didn’t want him touching Juliana, not for comfort or anything else. If anyone was going to comfort her, it would be him.
His bodyguard tonight, Captain Lukas Branko, stood two feet away, alert to any sudden betraying shift in the crowd, his eyes constantly on the move. Andre forcibly relaxed his tense muscles and tried to distract himself by thinking of something—anything—else, and his bodyguards’ warnings came to mind.
This kind of duty in a large, diverse crowd of people was a nightmare for any bodyguard, Lukas and Damon had told him more than once, much less anyone as fanatically devoted to their assignment as they were. It wasn’t just the devotion of subjects for their king, Andre knew. It wasn’t just the devotion to duty of men for whom duty was honor. Lukas and Damon were not without ambition, but their ambitions for the past three years had all centered around one object—keeping King Andre Alexei IV alive. Alive and ruling over Zakhar for many years to come. No matter what they had to do. No matter if they died trying.
It was the “die trying” part neither Lukas nor Damon cared for, Andre also knew. Even more than his other bodyguards, die trying was an excuse to them, an excuse for which they had no patience and no forgiveness. They would keep their king safe, no matter who else had to die. Even if it meant taking the law into their own hands. Even if it meant disregarding a direct order from the very king whose word was law to them.
Their stance on the subject had amused Andre at times, so much so he’d even discussed that contradiction in terms with his cousin Zax in one of their private meetings. But Zax hadn’t been amused, Andre remembered now. And he wondered why that memory had suddenly occurred to him tonight of all nights.
He searched the throng of people for his cousin’s face. Maybe Zax can help me keep my mind off Juliana. But he couldn’t spot him in the overcrowded room. Then—despite ordering himself not to—Andre’s gaze wandered inevitably back to Juliana, still standing with her friends where he’d left her.
He stared at her across the distance that separated them, wanting nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and carry her from the noisy, glittering crowd into the quiet sanctuary of his bedroom, the way he’d longed to do since the first moment she’d appeared at the top of the Grand Staircase tonight. Wanting nothing more than to make Juliana see what she was to him, what she had always been. Wanting to erase that hard, bitter edge he didn’t understand but that he knew had to be an act, revealing the genuine, loving woman he remembered.
But she had to come to him. He could not force her. He could not make her. He had done everything humanly possible to get her this far, but that was as far as he could go. Now it was up to her. He could only do whatever lay in his power to convince her she belonged here in Zakhar. With him.