Guarding His Royal Bride. C.J. Miller

to express his thoughts. “I’m sorry that politics interfered in our relationship.”

      Iliana quirked a brow. Demetrius kept his eyes locked on her face, but it was tempting to peek at her generous curves. For a petite woman, she was shapely in the right places.

      When he had first learned of Iliana’s existence during a poker game with Emmanuel the First, the king of Valencia, Demetrius had been intrigued. Locating her had been a simple matter, as had been confirming her identity—one even she wasn’t aware of—by taking a strand of hair from her hairbrush. What had not been simple was his attraction to her. She was take-his-breath-away gorgeous. Although he was regularly hit on by sexy women, those drawn to his power and money, Iliana intrigued him like no one else did.

      She fascinated him in all the right ways. He found it refreshing that she didn’t seem to care about his position or his wealth. It had been far too long since a woman liked him for him.

      “It wasn’t politics that came between us. You didn’t listen to me. You did what you wanted without any consideration for my thoughts and feelings.”

      Demetrius checked his temper. Iliana could push his buttons like no one else. Fighting with her made his blood run hot. Because she mattered to him. She had then, and she did now. “I had to do what was right for Icarus. I believed that war could be avoided, but I could not appear weak by backing away from provocation from Rizari.”

      Iliana’s eyes softened. Was he winning her over? “I couldn’t explain everything to you with the queen close at hand, and, after that, you refused to speak to me,” he said.

      She dropped her arms to her sides, hands unclenched. She was considering the matter.

      He went for broke. “You’ve been through an ordeal today. Please stay with me until things settle down and we know more about this incident.” Such as who the assassin was and why he had targeted Iliana. Demetrius could venture a few guesses, but vocalizing them would only scare her or anger her further.

      She inhaled deeply, seeming to consider his proposition. “I will be fine. The police will be here soon, and it will be over.”

      Demetrius didn’t want to frighten her, but he knew this would not be over until she was dead or the person who wanted her dead was stopped. “Could we speak in private?”

      Iliana glanced over his shoulder at her attacker. “Outside?”

      He hadn’t swept the outside to see if another killer was lying in wait. “Upstairs would be better.”

      She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

      Demetrius followed her up the stairs, taking in the details around him, paint color, the pictures on the wall, all canvas paintings, and the flooring: soft but worn. He hadn’t been inside her home before, and he noticed how much like her it was. Inviting, modern and comfortable.

      When she reached the top of the stairs, she took one more step and turned. “There are only bedrooms and a bathroom up here. We can talk in the hallway.”

      Was she worried about being alone with him in the bedroom because of what may happen when a bed was close by? The idea thrilled him because it meant she still felt their attraction. For him, it was a constant thrum in his veins.

      Being attracted to her was an unexpected bonus of the larger, more important task at hand—to win her over. He would have had to seduce her no matter what he felt for her, but being that she was gorgeous and smart, it made the job that much more pleasant.

      He needed to be honest with her and give her the right motivation to stay with him. He could keep her safe as no one else could. “The man in your kitchen meant to assassinate you. Whoever sent him won’t give up after one attempt.”

      Iliana shot him a look of disbelief. He loved that about her. She wasn’t a simpering woman, quick to burst into tears. She rallied quickly in the face of hardships. “Perhaps there are a lot of people who have reasons to kill you. No one has reasons to kill me.”

      She knew so little about her life. It was too soon to tell her all he knew. He had to disarm her, marry her and then show her how she fit into the chess game. “If you will not stay with me, please call your dear cousin and arrange to stay in the castle.”

      Since a massive corruption conspiracy had been uncovered within the queen of Acacia’s ranks, she had cleaned house. New security measures had been put in place, and Queen Serena kept her thumb on everything and everyone in the Acacian government. It helped that her husband, King Constantine Casimir Warrington IV of Rizari, brought his skills as an experienced military man to the table.

      Iliana wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to stay in the castle. It’s big, but Serena and Casimir are still in the honeymoon phase and I’d be the third wheel there.”

      Demetrius knew the feeling. Those long looks and the constant touching between Serena and Casimir nauseated him. “Then, my home it is.”

      Iliana hesitated.

      Shouting below them had Demetrius reaching again for his gun and pushing Iliana behind him. If more hit men had arrived, they’d have to shoot him dead to get to Iliana. He’d been shot four times in his life and had survived without any loss of major body functions. He’d cheated death and tempted fate before, and he would do it again.

      The police had arrived. Demetrius surveyed the scene before bringing Iliana downstairs with him.

      A detective strolled up to Iliana. “We found another man lurking outside. This address is on the queen’s watch list. Ms. Kracos, you’ll need to come with us.”

      “I’ve invited Iliana to stay with me. I think we should let her decide where she’d feel safest,” Demetrius said, banking on Iliana choosing him. It was risky, but Iliana couldn’t be cornered.

      * * *

      As bad days went, this one was tops. Iliana hadn’t even had breakfast yet and her home had already been invaded by an assassin and Demetrius DeSante.

      It was the second time that Demetrius had saved her life. She was capable of protecting herself, but being around him made her feel like batting her eyes and flirting and giggling. Not the tough image she wanted to convey.

      A woman didn’t flirt with the president of Icarus. He would find that behavior appalling. He was so serious and stern and powerful. Darkly good-looking, a fact he seemed unaware of, which made him that much more attractive.

      Instead, Iliana kept her wits about her and reviewed her options.

      She could stay in her home, she could stay with Serena and Casimir at the castle or she could run off with Demetrius DeSante.

      Her heart had an obvious preference, given that it almost beat out of her chest at the idea of being alone with Demetrius. The safest place, in more ways than one, was the Acacian castle. Yet she would be loath to intrude on her cousin and her new husband. Her home felt unsafe and the police would likely insist, to the point of forcing her, that she leave. Demetrius’s home held appeal.

      She had a history of being brash and wild with men, so she would exercise some caution this time. “If I go with you to Icarus and wish to return to Acacia, you’ll allow it?”

      “This is not a kidnapping. You are coming with me of your own volition and may leave whenever you wish. I will arrange safe transportation for you to return to Acacia at your request.”

      His voice was liquid honey, and her knees felt as if they might give out. “If I come with you, it doesn’t mean that I forgive you.”

      His eyes darkened. “Of course not.”

      But he knew that he’d won. The silence between them had been broken. Her anger had already been lessened by the fact that war between their countries had been averted months earlier. By the time the smoke had cleared, Iliana hadn’t been sure how to talk to Demetrius or where they stood.

      When she shut him out completely, she could keep her distance. But if she let him in a little bit, he seemed