you accuse me of seeing the world in only two colors.”
“I see lots of shades and shadows. That doesn’t mean my children are going to live under one or more of them.”
“Have you never considered the art of compromise?”
“I suck at it.” Hadn’t he realized that already?
She gave in on what didn’t matter, and on what did? Well, she could be a bit intransigent.
“This may be a problem. I am not known for giving in on what matters to me.” He said it like she might not know.
“It’s a good thing we agree on this issue, then.”
Demyan didn’t look comforted. “How is that?”
“You said you wanted to be the best father possible, that you never wanted your children to doubt their place in your life.”
“Yes.”
“Then you agree it is better not to have them if your work schedule isn’t going to change.”
He looked tired suddenly, and frustrated. “It is not that simple.”
“It can be.”
“What do you suggest? That I let Yurkovich Tanner run into the ground?”
“I suggest you hire three assistants, one for each major market, men and women who know the company, who care about it and that you trust to make minor decisions. They’re the first line for policy and decision making, leaving you open to spend your time on only the most high-level stuff.”
“And if that’s all I work on already?”
“It’s not.”
“You told me you tuned out my calls.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t access the memories.”
“You’re scary smart, aren’t you?”
She shrugged, but they hadn’t even bothered finishing her IQ test in high school after she completed the first three exercises before the tester even got the timer going. The teacher hadn’t wanted her to feel like a freak.
If only he’d been able to coach her parents.
“You just found out what my job is and you’re already giving advice on it.” Far from annoyed, Demyan sounded admiring.
“I’m a quick thinker.”
“You’d be brilliant in business.”
“No interest.” Much to both her mother’s and Perry’s distress.
“I’ll talk it over with my uncle.”
“Is he your business mentor?”
“He’s my boss.”
“He works for Yurkovich Tanner?”
“He’s the King of Volyarus.”
She waited for the rest of the joke, only it didn’t come, and the look Demyan was giving her said it wasn’t going to.
She knew that ultimately the ownership of Yurkovich Tanner resided with the monarchy of that country. However, the thought that Demyan’s uncle and the king were one and the same person had never entered her mind.
“Your uncle is a king.”
“Yes.”
“Oxana?”
“Queen.”
“She told me to call her Oxana.”
“That is her privilege.”
Chanel felt like she was going to be sick. “You never said.”
“I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“Holding back important information is like lying.”
“I’m called Prince Demyan, but I’m no knight in shining armor. At heart I am a Cossack, Chanel. You must realize that. Any armor I have is tarnished. I am a human man with human failings.” He said it as if admitting a darkly held secret.
Another time, she would have teased him about his melodrama and the arrogance behind it. Right now? She needed to think.
“I wasn’t expecting this. You’re this corporate guy who wears sweaters.” Only, he hadn’t been wearing them, or the jeans, so much lately.
She hadn’t really noticed, until now. Clothing didn’t matter much to her. She wasn’t her mother, or even Laura in that regard. But looking back, she realized there had been a lot of subtle changes over the past six weeks.
He dressed in suits so sharp they could have come out of the knife drawer. She hardly ever saw the more casual attire he’d been wearing when they first met. Sometimes in the evenings, but he never left the house in the morning wearing a sweater.
She never noticed him reaching to adjust glasses that weren’t there anymore, either.
Which meant what? That he was a lot more confident than she’d thought.
Okay, anyone who thought Demyan Zaretsky lacked confidence needed to take a reality check. Her included.
She didn’t know why he’d worn the glasses, but they weren’t a crutch for some deep-seated insecurity.
And honestly, did that matter right now?
“Chanel,” he prompted.
She stared at him, trying to make the difference between who he was and what he was make sense through the shock of his revelation. “You’re a prince.”
“It’s a nominal title only.”
“What does that even mean?” What she knew about royalty wouldn’t fill a page, much less a book.
“Officially, I am a duke, but I am called prince at the pleasure of my uncle, the king.”
“The one who raised you?” Still not making sense, and getting cloudier rather than clearer.
“He and Oxana raised me as a brother to Maksim, the Crown Prince. I was spare to the throne.”
“Was?”
“My cousin’s wife is expecting their first child.”
“Next in line to the throne now?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just all so strange.”
She looked around the plane, which had taken off at some point but she couldn’t have said when. Her family were all staring, making
