King's Ransom (Man on a Mission 2)

No, he acknowledged with a grimace, attempting to calm his fears, I have no choice. Not anymore. Because his ultimate goal—to take his destined place as king of Zakhar—that goal was still attainable...but only with the Bratva’s help. “So what are you going to do?”

“The Pakhan says,” the Russian stated flatly, referring to Vishenko, “that the woman has distracted you—us—from our real goal long enough. It is time to forget the woman, and return to the original plan.”

* * *

Alone and restless, Juliana stood on the balcony outside her bedroom, looking up at the full moon. Somewhere out there, she knew, Dirk and Sabrina were riding in a horse-drawn carriage beneath that full moon, and once again she felt an ache of envy. Even knowing the precariousness of Sabrina’s situation, she would have traded places with her friend in a heartbeat. Not to be with Dirk, but to be with Andre. To know herself loved the way Dirk loved Sabrina. To be carrying Andre’s children, even at the risk to herself.

“No!” she whispered in a desperate undertone, appalled at where her thoughts had strayed. How can you even think that? Haven’t you learned the hard way that Andre doesn’t love you?

But she wanted him to. It wasn’t just that her body craved his touch. Her heart yearned for him, too, despite everything. And her desire for Andre’s children was a part of that yearning. The scene they’d filmed this afternoon had brought that desire achingly to life.

She wondered if Eleonora had ever faced a situation like this. It seemed unlikely, but you could never know for sure. The chroniclers of the time had painted the first Andre Alexei with a heroic brush, granting him all the virtues and none of the vices. Had he really been faithful to Eleonora for nearly five empty years?

There was nothing in the history of the day to suggest otherwise. In other words, no bastards attributed to him, she thought with a wry tilt to her lips. And that was at a time when royal bastards were an everyday occurrence and rarely hidden. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have what it took sexually—Eleonora had conceived their first night together, and then had borne him six more children in the sixteen years after she’d been ransomed. So it seemed likely Andre Alexei had remained faithful.

But had he really paid a king’s ransom to redeem her and her son, the son whose paternity had yet to be proved? Again, relying on the historians at the time, it seemed probable. Andre Alexei had beggared his kingdom—that was a known fact.

And Raoul had been his son, she remembered from the story Andre had told her and Mara so long ago, although it had taken a genetic defect to prove it—a crook in the pinkies of both hands, in father and son. A dominant gene—one that had come down through the centuries, but that hadn’t impaired their fighting abilities. Both Andre Alexei and Raoul had been fearsome warriors. Mara hadn’t inherited that defect; her fingers had all been perfectly straight. But Andre had.

Juliana remembered examining his hands minutely the night they’d become lovers, fascinated by the little thing that had made such a vast difference in whether or not Zakhar accepted Raoul as Andre Alexei’s legitimate heir. Wondering if the children she would someday give him would have the same odd but endearing genetic defect.

The children I will never have, she reminded herself. The thought was nearly unbearable.

* * *

Alone and restless, Andre stood on the balcony outside his bedroom in defiance of his bodyguards’ wishes, looking up at the full moon. Wondering if bringing Juliana here had been a terrible mistake. Danger for himself he could accept. Danger for Juliana he could not.

He’d lost his temper with his cousin—fear did that to a man. Not fear for himself. Never that. But fear for Juliana, which was becoming his constant companion. Just as he’d wanted Mara safely out of the country after the second assassination attempt and had accomplished two goals by sending her to the United States, now he wondered how he was going to keep Juliana safe here in Zakhar. Not just during the filming of the movie, but forever and a day.

Seeing her on the set this afternoon, her body rounded with the pregnancy she was faking for the movie, he’d suddenly realized just how much was at stake. Not just Juliana, but any child they might have. If she stayed in Zakhar, if she married him, if they created a child from their love...the risk of assassination would be there.

Whoever was behind these attempts on Juliana’s life had to be caught. He could not be allowed to remain a threat to Juliana or their child...assuming they had a child. Assuming Juliana ever grew to love him again enough to make that a possibility.

He breathed sharply. Even if the man behind the threat to Juliana was caught, he still wasn’t sure if she would ever love him again. Yes, her physical attraction to him was undeniable. But would he ever know the joy of hearing those simple words from her that had thrilled him when she’d first said them? Thrilled him at the time and then haunted him over the years. “Please, Andre...I love you...and I have to know...”