“You believe me? Without proof?”
“Your eyes are all the proof I need.” He smiled down at her. “Eleven years ago when you offered me the sweetest gift any man had ever been offered, your eyes told me you were innocent. But they also told me something else. They told me you loved me. Not as a girl in the throes of a crush the way you had loved me for years, but as the woman you had become that summer.”
He kissed her reverently. “Now your eyes tell me the same thing. They tell me you are innocent—and that you love me.”
* * *
Two hours later Andre reluctantly parted from Juliana at the door to the Queen’s Suite. He’d told her he had every intention of accompanying her back to Hollywood for Sabrina’s funeral—he’d rearranged his entire schedule to go with her, although he couldn’t stay longer than that, couldn’t stay while she finished out her obligations to King’s Ransom—but he would be there to help her through the emotional trauma of the funeral. And when he’d told her he’d already set things in motion for their departure that evening, she’d convinced him he needed a few hours of sleep before they embarked.
Andre’s press secretary had announced their engagement to the whole world an hour earlier, complete with hastily taken pictures of the radiant couple and the impressive engagement ring. “The sooner, the better,” Andre had insisted. Juliana had maintained they had to call her father before that happened—no way was she going to hurt her father by not telling him first. This time when Juliana called him she had woken him from a sound sleep, although he’d assured her he didn’t mind for a reason like this. After she and Andre had both talked with her father and received his blessing, Juliana had laughingly explained to Andre about the last time she’d called her father.
Then Andre walked Juliana to her door...hand in hand. His bodyguard Lukas followed a discreet two steps behind them, and Juliana’s bodyguards had made themselves temporarily scarce at the silent command in Andre’s eyes, although Andre no longer cared who saw him with Juliana.
They paused at the doorway to the Queen’s Suite. Lukas stood off to one side, his eyes scanning the corridor in either direction, ensuring their privacy. “Come to me through the passageway, little one,” Andre coaxed in a soft undertone as he leaned close to her. “How can I sleep without you now?”
Her eyes met his. “How can you sleep with me there?” she teased gently, her expression conveying she knew exactly what he had in mind...and it wasn’t sleep.
He chuckled softly. “You are right, of course.” He held her gaze. “I will have to learn to sleep with you at my side...but not today.” He raised her left hand to his lips and brushed kisses over each of her fingers, lingering on the one wearing his engagement ring. Then he opened the door for her and pushed her gently through it before closing the door firmly, hearing the old-fashioned latch click into place. He turned and headed for the King’s Suite, Lukas by his side.
“Congratulations, Sire,” Lukas said, his sincerity obvious.
Andre smiled. “Thank you, Lukas.”
Lukas hesitated, then added, “She is a wonderful woman, and you are a lucky man. All Zakhar will rejoice.”
“Not all,” Andre disclaimed. “There will not be universal rejoicing. But I do not care about that. It is her or no one.” The two men shared a look of male understanding.
When they turned the corner into the corridor that would take them to Andre’s suite, Lukas’s hand quickly slid inside his unbuttoned jacket, then withdrew when he recognized the three men who stood in front of Andre’s private office. Waiting. One was Damon Kostya, who wasn’t supposed to be on duty that day. The second was the helicopter pilot who’d flown Andre to Taryna both days, the one who’d managed to land the chopper safely on only one engine. And the third was the man who’d saved Juliana’s life the first time, Marek Zale.
* * *
Juliana thought about ringing for Daphne before dragging out a suitcase from the wardrobe where it had been stashed, tossing it onto her bed and flipping the lid open. “Remember, two rings on the buzzer, and I will be here directly,” the maid had told her earlier this morning, but Juliana decided to put off calling for Daphne until later. She didn’t need help packing the one suitcase she would take to Hollywood, although she did want to discuss with the maid what she was leaving behind, the things she wanted Daphne to keep safe for her for when she returned to Zakhar.
“When I return,” she whispered to herself, unable to hold in the thrill that accompanied the words. She went swiftly through the dresses hanging in the closet. She made a quick trip to the dresser for a handful of bras and panties, then another trip back to the closet for shoes.