The Mills & Boon Ultimate Christmas Collection. Kate Hardy

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and revealed exactly what she had feared. “You’re acting like I’m presenting you with a tarantula, rather than a diamond ring.”

      She looked down at the beautiful, ornate ring. A platinum band with a large, square-cut gem at the center. She would have preferred a tarantula, frankly.

      “You know how I feel about all of this. I don’t... You didn’t say that you were going to be making any official announcements today.”

      “I am bringing you to one of the most important events we have here at the palace. It is not an ambiguous statement on its own. The ring is implied.”

      “Then perhaps we should keep it implied,” she said.

      “No. That isn’t how this works. I have made promises to you, promises that I intend to keep. Concessions have been made in order for you to feel as comfortable with this as possible. But you are not in charge. You are not conducting this show.”

      She found herself extending her hand, and she wasn’t quite sure why. He had issued no threat, and truly, what would he do if she said no? Still, she held her hand there, steady for him, as he took the piece of jewelry from the box, and slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. It felt heavy. And that heaviness carried over to her chest.

      “Now it’s time for us to go in.”

      He took the hand he had just put the ring on, curling his fingers around hers, leading her back toward the entrance to the ballroom. And she went. Because she was numb, and putting up a fight when you weren’t entirely sure if your feet were still on the ground was difficult.

      No. This wasn’t what she wanted. She needed more time. She wasn’t ready.

       He said he would marry you by Christmas. By the end of the month. You only have a few weeks. What did you think?

      She hadn’t been thinking. She had been in denial of the fact that she had been brought here, given to Andres as though she were an object. A Christmas present for the man who had everything.

      He had certainly taken possession of her as though he had every right. And he had made her feel as though perhaps they had a connection, but clearly they didn’t. Or he could never force her into this. And he was forcing her. He was.

      She was amazed at the way the crowd parted for him. No one touched either of them as they wove their way through the knot of people. They walked into the ballroom, toward the most opulent and beautifully appointed table. She recognized King Kairos immediately. You could hardly forget the man you’d been trotted out in front of as one of your country’s desirable exports. Sitting next to him was a woman she hadn’t seen yet. Blonde, poised, beautiful beyond measure. She was polished until she nearly glowed.

      Suddenly, Zara could see why Andres thought she was feral.

      In comparison to this woman, who had to be Queen Tabitha, almost anyone would appear feral. Her movements were fluid, her posture impeccable. Even her facial expressions seemed easy, smooth. She smiled at everyone with ease, looking perfectly genuine at every moment. Even when she rested, she simply looked serene. Never bored. Not tired, or upset.

      Andres pulled her chair out for her, and she sat.

      Tabitha turned her focus to Zara, and Zara saw for the first time the ice beneath the crystal-blue gaze. Tabitha was made of stronger stuff than she first appeared to be.

      “Tabitha,” Andres said, “this is my fiancée, Princess Zara. I’m not sure if Kairos filled you in. He played matchmaker.”

      Zara nearly choked.

      Tabitha turned to look at her husband, her expression bland. “No. Kairos didn’t tell me. I’m a bit surprised that he’s responsible. He’s not usually one for romance.”

      “Who said anything about romance?” Kairos asked.

      Zara had no experience with these kinds of relationships. But she could recognize when people were circling each other. When they were holding back anger, spoiling for a fight. It was happening here.

      Tabitha smiled, and this was the first time Zara could see how forced it was. The facade didn’t hold up as well under close scrutiny.

      She felt as though she was looking into her future. Shackled to a man who couldn’t possibly be more bored with her existence. Pretending to be happy and serene when inside she wanted nothing more than to stand up and scream.

      Manipulated by fate. Living a life beside someone who was entirely set apart from her.

      The more she faced the possibility of a life without choice, the more she saw just how unhappy she’d been for a long time.

      She’d been able to ignore it because there had always been a glimmer of hope for the future. A different future. One that was what she made it, rather than one she was forced into. And so she’d endured the silence. The distance. Because she’d imagined there would be something more later.

      She looked again at Kairos and Tabitha, at the yawning gulf that was so clearly between these two people who sat right next to each other.

      And then she picked up her fork. And dropped it back onto the plate. The clatter, loud and satisfying, startled everyone seated at the table. Zara smiled. “Sorry.”

      She wasn’t sorry. Not in the least.

      She wasn’t going to go quietly. She wasn’t going to accept this blandly. She had choices. And this was clearly a moment she had to seize. If Andres wouldn’t listen to her, then she would use Kairos and Tabitha and their clear need for decorum above all else.

      If he was only marrying for Kairos’s sake, then she would make Kairos want her gone.

      As long as they didn’t return her to her captors, she would find her way.

      She felt the hard, warm pressure of Andres’s hand on her thigh and she turned to look at him. His eyes were hard. Warning.

      But she wasn’t so easily intimidated.

      She returned his glare with one of her own, and a slow smile she knew he wouldn’t believe sincere. “Is there a problem, Andres?”

      “Not in the least,” he said, his tone soft. Deceptively so.

      Just as he didn’t believe her smile, she did not believe his calm. “I’m pleased to hear that.”

      He squeezed her thigh. “You’re quite docile.”

      She looked up at him again, fluttering her lashes. “I am. Quite.”

      “You had best remain so,” he said, lowering his voice.

      “Of course, my dear.”

      Moments later the waitstaff swept into the room, carrying trays laden with food. They set the small salad plates down on the larger plates. But they had to pause over hers as the fork was still sitting in the center of it. She moved it, smiling sweetly at Andres, who was eyeing her with suspicion.

      He had every right to be suspicious. She was going to misbehave.

      She ate the salad with very little

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