The Royals Collection. Rebecca Winters

am that there isn’t going to be any more talking.”

      “You are a contrary woman.”

      “You have no idea how contrary I can be, but spend a few minutes talking with my stepfather and he’ll fill you in.”

      “I have spent some time in his company already.”

      And heard an earful, Chanel was sure. For the first time in her life, she simply didn’t care if Perry had managed to turn someone right off her. “I’m sure he enjoyed that.”

      “He’s an opportunistic man.”

      “He is.” Something clicked in her mind, two memories coming together to form a single conclusion. “He’s the one, isn’t he, the reason you had to act now?”

      The king’s face smoothed over into an emotionless mask, but not before she saw the flare of surprise at her guess.

      Because she was right.

      “My great-great-grandfather Tanner died, apparently with a very different will to the one my great-grandmother believed to have been in existence. Yet no one from your family has approached mine in four generations to secure Baron Tanner’s shares in your precious company.”

      “It is not just a company—it is the financial cornerstone of an entire country.”

      “Your country.”

      “Yours now, too.”

      “That remains to be seen.”

      “Chanel—” Demyan tried to say something.

      She put her hand up. “No. Not you. Not now. Trust me when I tell you it is better for everyone if you show that ruthless patience you are so well-known for in business.”

      “How do you know about that?”

      “I’ve spent six weeks learning you.” Too bad he hadn’t done the same.

      He would have realized there was no worse way she could have learned of his subterfuge than to be told by an outside party. But then maybe he had realized and it simply didn’t matter.

      He wouldn’t risk upsetting whatever scheme he and his father had set in motion to protect their precious wealth and thereby their country.

      She focused on the king again. “My stepfather approached your company trying to trade on connections he didn’t really have, but it got you all worried.”

      “He is a resourceful man.”

      “He’s a shark, though I think maybe Demyan is a bigger, and much meaner, one.”

      “Without doubt.” The king sounded proud.

      But then he would be, wouldn’t he? His son’s ruthless resourcefulness had netted him full interest in Yurkovich Tanner for the first time in four generations.

      She didn’t know how, or what the details were, but that much she had gleaned from what had and had not been said in this room tonight.

      “There are half-a-dozen moderately accessible chemical compounds that would eat the flesh from a shark’s body in less than a minute, did you know that?”

      The king shook his head, his expression almost bemused.

      “I did. I know every single one of them.”

      “Are you threatening him?”

      “I am reminding you that even sharks get eaten if they aren’t careful and it doesn’t always take a bigger shark to do it.”

      “I believe there is a strand of ruthlessness in you, too.”

      “Would you like to find out?”

      The king opened his mouth and then closed it, giving Demyan a look of concern before his expression turned thoughtful. “No.”

      “Good.”

      “What do you plan to do?”

      “Throw the bouquet.”

      “You know that is not what I meant.”

      “I care?”

      The king’s mouth tightened, but he stepped aside, having seemingly finally gotten the message that his admonitions were more effective goads to bad behavior than preventers of it.

      * * *

      Chanel threw the bouquet.

      She even managed to dredge up a photo-op-worthy smile when Laura caught it and tossed it away again immediately. Her sister’s attitude toward the institution of marriage couldn’t have been more obvious.

      Chanel had to wonder if the teenager had caught the bouquet just so she could throw it away again. The entire ballroom erupted into laughter and even Beatrice was smiling.

      She should be.

      Her disappointment of a daughter had managed to land a prince. No wonder she’d come to Chanel’s apartment with stories of undying first love.

      Chanel couldn’t believe she’d thought her mom was finally showing a vested interest in her oldest daughter’s happiness.

      But then she’d let herself be convinced that Demyan wanted to marry her. Not Bartholomew Tanner’s only surviving heir.

      Smile still fixed firmly in place, Chanel looked out over the ballroom full of people. Her gaze settled on Queen Oxana. The older woman looked pleased, her normally controlled expression filled with unmistakable happiness.

      Was that because she knew the Yurkovich fortune was secure, or was she happy at what she thought was her son’s marriage to someone she believed was his one true love?

      Another memory clicked into place and the smile fell away from Chanel’s face. Oxana was the one who had made Demyan promise not to use protestations of love to convince Chanel to marry him.

      The queen knew about the will. She must, but she had scruples where her husband and son did not. She might be the only person Chanel could trust to tell her the truth.

      She was tempted to leave the reception early, but every time she let her gaze find Demyan, he was watching her. He would only follow her, but she wanted a chance to talk to his mother, to get some answers on her own first.

      She got her chance unexpectedly when Oxana came up to her and laid a hand on her arm. “Are you all right, Chanel?”

      Chanel looked toward Demyan. He returned her regard, his dark-eyed expression unreadable, but something in the way he watched Chanel and his mother told Chanel he had sent the older woman to her.

      “You know,” Chanel said instead of answering.

      “That you and my husband had something of an altercation earlier? Yes.”

      Interesting that the queen considered the argument to be between Chanel and the king, not Chanel and Demyan. “Did he tell you?”

      “Demyan did.”

      Even the sound of his name on Oxana’s lips hurt Chanel in some indefinable way. “You were aware of their plans because of my great-great-grandfather’s will.”

      Oxana nodded.

      “You made him promise not to lie about loving me. Thank you.” She wasn’t sure how much worse the pain inside her would be if she’d believed false words of love. “I want to read the will.”

      “If you ask Demyan, he will tell you everything.”

      “I don’t want to hear from him. He had his chance to tell me. He chose not to.”

      “He was trying to protect our nation.”

      Chanel couldn’t help mocking. “Because I’m such a huge security risk.”

      Oxana looked around them, obviously concerned someone might overhear. No one was in range of their subdued tones, but that could change any second.