is my home.”
Rose’s jaw dropped.
“You brought me to your home? But, but…” She faltered, then said, “Lars will know exactly where to find you!”
He turned back to her. “Exactly.”
“I don’t understand. What kind of kidnapping is this?”
“I told you. It’s not a kidnapping. It’s a trade.”
The car stopped and the driver opened the door. Xerxes climbed out, then held out his hand back to her.
Careful not to touch his hand, she tripped and stumbled out of the car. She glanced back at him, blushing.
He pulled back his hand, tucking it behind his back.
“Come,” he said, regaining his low, mocking voice. “I’m sure you’re eager to see the inside of your prison. Baroness.”
But he didn’t try to touch her again. She was relieved. After his electric kiss earlier, after feeling the strength of his body and the heat of his embrace that had made her surrender against her will, she was afraid to let him so much as brush his fingertip against her skin.
Following him toward the house, she looked up. Her footsteps faltered.
She’d once dreamed of traveling to Greece, but she’d never imagined anything like this.
The enormous white villa sat on the edge of a sharp cliff, iced with moonlight. The cold, classical architecture made it look like a fortress, and suddenly reminded her of another island closer to home. The prison of Alcatraz.
She caught up with him inside the tall doorway. She only dimly saw the servants awaiting them, greeting Xerxes in low, respectful voices before they disappeared down dark hallways.
He pulled her into a high-ceilinged library edged with leather-bound books. When he opened the French doors to the veranda, a cool breeze blew off the sea, curling up her spine. Rose shivered.
Xerxes turned back to her. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” she whispered, then closed her eyes, trying not to cry. “I just want to call my family.”
“Your family?” he queried, his lips curving sardonically. “Not your precious boyfriend?”
She blinked. She’d actually forgotten about Lars for a moment. But it was only natural, she told herself. She’d known Lars only a few months, while she’d loved her family for her whole life! But still, the thought brought her up short. Shouldn’t she have wanted to speak to Lars above all others?
Pushing the disquieting thought aside, she glared at him. “My husband is my family.”
Xerxes pulled out his phone, dialed a number and handed it to her. “Here.”
She stared up at him in surprise, her mouth gaping as she held the phone in her hand. “Is this a trick?”
“It’s ringing,” he pointed out.
With a gasp, she pushed the phone to her ear. When she heard Lars’s voice at the other end, she nearly wept with relief. “Lars!”
“Rose?” he said, his voice more high-pitched that usual. “Where are you? One of my groundskeepers found the tiara smashed in the road. Your family is worried sick. Why did you leave?” His voice wavered. “Did you hear something that made you angry? Whatever it was, I can explain—”
“I’ve been kidnapped,” she sobbed. “I’m in Greece.”
There was silence on the other end. Then Lars spoke grimly.
“Novros,” he said. “Novros took you, didn’t he?”
How had he known that?
“Yes,” she choked out. “And he—”
“What did he tell you?”
She turned away so Xerxes couldn’t see her tearful face as she whispered into the phone, “He’s told me all kinds of lies. Oh, Lars. He said you were already married, that the tiara was fake, that our wedding was fake! Ridiculous lies that no one would believe!”
Sniffling, she waited for Lars to tell her that of course it was a lie, that of course she was his legal wife and that he’d be calling Interpol immediately.
Instead, there was silence.
“It’s complicated,” he said weakly.
The word was a stab to her heart. “Complicated?”
“I pawned my grandmother’s tiara a few years ago, but the glass version looks almost the same,” he said defensively. “I intended to buy it back, but never got around to it. Your engagement ring is real though!”
Why was he talking about jewelry? Who cared about that? She choked out, “But the other things—”
“Well, technically I suppose you could say that I was already married, but my so-called wife has been comatose for a year. She’s a vegetable. I never loved her, Rose, but I needed money, don’t you understand? I have an image to uphold. And I swear to you,” he said urgently, “Laetitia is nothing to me.”
“You’re married,” Rose whispered numbly, feel-ing like she was in a nightmare. She felt Xerxes move behind her, felt the warmth emanating off his strong body. “Our wedding today was really fake.”
“I had no choice. You wouldn’t let me touch you!” Lars said. “I hired an actor to lead the vows. It was easy. None of my friends knew about Laetitia. The day after we eloped, my stupid, brainless wife drove her car into a telephone pole.”
Rose sucked in her breath.
As if sensing he’d gone too far, Lars changed his tone. “You’re the one I love, petal, my perfect bride. You are the one I truly want as my wife. I always intended to renew our vows, legally, as soon as Laetitia died. The doctors say she’s fading fast,” he added eagerly. “She could die any day.”
“You…” Her throat closed. It took her a minute to force out the words. “You want her to die?”
“Of course I do!” he said. “I need you, my beautiful Rose. Please, petal, you have to believe…”
But Rose heard no more. The phone fell from her numb hands, clattering to the marble floor.
She stared dimly at the sparkling diamond ring on her hand. She’d pledged her faith to a man who was not free. And worse than that, a man devious enough to twist Rose’s innocent words into the justification for his deception. A man heartless enough to want his comatose wife to die.
Rose had believed in him. She’d thought she’d truly married him. And in a few hours more, she would have given him her virginity.
How could she have been such a fool?
The entire fairy tale had been a lie.
