The King's Captive Virgin. Natalie Anderson

at her, daring her to voice her sultry criticism.

      ‘It’s like a mausoleum in here.’ She waved a graceful hand in the air. ‘Impersonal dry paintings, uncomfortable antique furniture...’ She turned a sharp gaze on him. ‘And a cold, controlled atmosphere.’

      She was trying to bait him, but it wasn’t going to work. ‘This palace has been impeccably maintained,’ he said shortly.

      ‘I can see that. There’s not a speck of dust. Not a painting out of place. The whole palace appears perfect. Just like you.’

      ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘It’s all a gilt facade—there is nothing beneath. No story. No soul.’

      ‘After five minutes alone with your King you have come to such a flattering snap judgement?’ He growled caustically. ‘What makes you so certain I’m cold?’

      Who did she think she was to insult him? Her daring smacked of manipulation once again. And the worst thing was that it was working. Sensual heat had turned his bones to cinders. All he wanted was to slam her against him so he could assuage the ache of his hard body against her lush softness. God, he wanted her surrender. For the first time in a decade he didn’t have complete control of a situation and he wanted to claim some part of it back.

      ‘Your plans for your sister...’ she said, too calmly. ‘You’re not really worried about her—you’re worried about how this all looks.’

      He stilled. He didn’t care about her insulting his decor, but she didn’t get to opine on his relationship with Eleni. She didn’t get to question his loyalty. ‘I’m not worried about my sister?’

      ‘Clearly not,’ she said, dropping the mocking smile. ‘When you’re insisting on marrying her off. You’re using her for royal publicity. This is all about the Nicolaides machine.’

      ‘This marriage is for her protection,’ he said coldly.

      The scepticism in her eyes was like an acid peel on his heart. ‘Protection from what?’ She glanced about the room again. ‘When she lives in a prison like this?’

      She made it sound as if it were horrible. ‘You have no idea of the pressure she faces. The relentless public scrutiny. They circle her like sharks.’

      The pressures on Eleni were untenable. It was bad enough for him to have to bear, but worse for the women of the family. The judgement was intolerable. The expectations too high.

      ‘So your answer is to send her from one prison to another?’

      ‘Royals marry royals,’ he said icily. ‘It is best that way.’ Only those reared within the system had the tolerance and the acceptance.

      ‘But not you,’ she pointed out. ‘You’re almost a decade older than she is, yet you’re still not married. What about your well-being and protection?’

      Oh, he was well aware of his duty, and he had a plan for when the time was right. But he felt Eleni needed security sooner. And he was right.

      ‘Is it so wrong to want my sister to be happy and well cared for?’

      He was incensed by her judgement. She knew nothing of what life in this palace was like. She knew nothing about his sister. Eleni was an innocent, naive young woman who’d been sheltered her entire life while at the same time juggling immense pressure. Whereas the woman before him now was more than worldly, more than aware of her sensual power. She knew exactly how to wield it. She’d brought a whole hospital full of doctors to their knees—and the horrendous uniform only served to expedite their stripping fantasies.

      ‘By marrying a playboy jerk who was never going to be faithful to her?’

      Yeah, she knew nothing. ‘You shouldn’t read the tabloids,’ he mocked, unconsciously stepping closer. ‘Nothing of what they print is true.’

      ‘So nothing of what they say about you is true either?’ she fired back, stepping up to face him square-on. ‘You’re not honourable or kind or devoted to your duty?’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Are you saying that behind your perfect reputation there’s a monster?’

      ‘I don’t mind being a monster if by that you mean I’m doing the right thing. Your brother has stolen the most precious thing in my life. He has hurt her. He will pay.’ He was beyond angry—he was hurt.

      ‘The most precious “thing”? That’s what she is to you? A commodity to be bartered? A possession?’

      ‘It is a figure of speech,’ he snapped. ‘Nothing and no one is more important to me than Eleni. She is my responsibility. She is—’ He broke off.

      He didn’t want to admit such personal truths to this shallow Siren. Didn’t want to confess that he didn’t want Eleni to make a mistake that could have the same consequences.

      He glowered at Kassiani, somehow right in front of her now, as he tried to stay in control. ‘You do not get to judge my family. You do not get to judge me.’

      ‘I do when you’re punishing me for something you think my half-brother has done. Something I don’t even know. Where’s the fairness in that?’

      Her anger was unwarranted. ‘In what way am I “punishing” you?’

      ‘By bringing me here against my will.’

      ‘Just give me the information I need. It’s simple.’

      ‘There’s nothing I can tell you. I barely know him.’

      ‘There’s plenty you can tell me. You’re choosing not to.’

      Her jaw dropped. ‘No wonder Eleni ran away from here. From you.’

      He braced himself against the flinch her words caused. ‘Because...?’

      ‘Because of your inability to listen. You say I don’t get to judge? But that’s all you do. You don’t need me here—you’ve already worked out everything on your own and you only want me to confirm your theories. You’re not actually willing to consider an alternative, let alone the truth. I bet you haven’t even considered Eleni’s own wishes. Do you even know what they are?’

      Her accusations had hit a nerve. Rage and regret clouded his reason, making the last of his self-control splinter.

      ‘When did you last talk to her about her marriage?’ Kassiani pressed, clearly aware that she’d struck a raw spot. ‘Did you talk to her at all?’

      ‘Be quiet!’ he snapped, reaching out to grab her hips and make her listen. ‘You say I’m not willing to consider an alternative?’ he jeered. ‘What alternative are you suggesting—with your delays, your attempts not just to distract but to provoke me? Is this what you want me to do? Retaliate?’

      He hauled her that last inch closer, until she was pressed against him. Until there was no denying the reaction he had to her.

      ‘Fine,’ he snarled. ‘Win what you want. But I want to know why?’

      Kassie couldn’t speak. She had no idea why. This could have been settled so simply in a five-minute quiet conversation, but the second he’d appeared before her she’d reacted to him with such intensity.

      The need to push back against his arrogant orders had been visceral. She’d operated not on thought, but on instinct. And the terrible thing was that her instincts were telling her to push in another way now. To push closer still. It was terrifying, but her physical awareness of him was so acute it almost hurt. His thighs were pressed against hers, and his rock-hard abs and his masculine arousal were evident between them.

      Shocking. But it was more than that. It was thrilling.

      His green eyes gleamed as he towered over her. Having shed the jacket and tie he looked less civilised—more like the man she’d somehow known him