King's Ransom (17 page)

“How can you think I give a damn about that?” she began angrily. Her acting career had always been her second choice, the only viable option left to her after Andre had brutally rejected her love. “That's not—” Then his words from early this morning came back to her.
“All that matters is finally...
finally
...you came to me again after I have waited so long.”
What had he meant? If he'd been waiting for her to come to him, he couldn't possibly have sent those men to drive her away. He couldn't possibly...

Other words from earlier crowded into her memory.
“You were mine eleven years ago, little one. You are mine again. That is all. It is enough. But this time I will never let you go.”
And suddenly she
knew
. The answer to all the questions she'd never gotten to ask him, including the latest—why hadn't he answered when she'd tried to contact him? “My father was right. You didn't send those men to me eleven years ago, did you?”

“What men?” Even though she already knew the answer, the honest perplexity in his face was the last piece of evidence she needed.

“You never answered any of the letters or emails I sent you those first two months,” she said slowly. “But you never got them, did you?” He shook his head wonderingly. She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment as emotions bubbled to the surface, then looked at him again. “I wrote to you,” she said in a low voice, “many times. Words from my heart. Letters. Emails. Almost every day. But you never responded. I even tried to call you, but you never answered your cell phone. I knew you were busy. But I...I had begged you for only one night. And I started to wonder if your silence was your way of telling me that's all it would ever be.”

Her lips trembled and she pressed them together tightly until she was able to control her emotions. “Then two months after I left Zakhar two Zakharian agents came to the university. They told me you had sent them.” She ignored his sharply indrawn breath. “They said... They said...” She swallowed hard. “They handed me an envelope...with money. A lot of money. They said I could take the money and have an abortion if I was pregnant, or if I wasn't I should consider it a farewell gift. From you.”

Andre's eyes went hard and cold and his lips formed a thin line. He clenched his right hand so tightly his fist was bloodless. “My father,” he grated with repressed anger bordering on hatred. “My father has a lot to answer for...in hell.”

“I threw the money back in their faces,” Juliana told him. “I wasn't pregnant, but even if I had been, I would never—” Her voice broke. “I loved you. Even thinking you had sent those men, I loved you, and I would never have destroyed your child.
Our
child.”

An earthy Zakharan curse issued from Andre's lips. “I
did
send an agent to America...in December, not earlier. But not to you. Only to check on you because you did not answer your cell phone when
I
called
you
. And you did not respond to the emails I sent, either.”

Her eyes grew huge in her face. “You called me?”

He nodded. Then his eyes took on a puzzled expression. “It did not occur to me at the time, but now I realize my unanswered calls never went to voice mail.” He shook that thought off. “Since you did not answer, I emailed you. The first one...it was just a few lines. I tried not to overwhelm you with the depth of my love, but I had to tell you what that night meant to me.” He drew a deep breath. “I bared my soul to you, Juliana, but you did not answer, and that hurt me. Angered me. And yes, cut my pride to the bone. But eventually I sent a second email...”

He trailed off, an arrested expression on his face, and she prompted, “The second email...?”

“That is how he knew,” Andre whispered to himself. “That is how my father knew to send those men to you.” As she had done, he covered his eyes with one hand.

“What...what was in that email?”

Andre lowered his hand and gazed down at her, anger at his father and self-recrimination combined in the troubled face he showed her. “When I did not hear back from you after my first email I wondered if you had changed your mind once you started college. You were free, free to seek new experiences away from your father's sheltering influence for the first time in your life. Free of me. What if you no longer loved me? What if you regretted what we had done?”

Juliana shook her head in denial. “How could you think that?”

“When a man is feeling guilty, little one, many thoughts go through his mind. I had sworn to myself I would not touch you, so guilt over that night was my constant companion.” He breathed deeply. “In the first flush of wounded pride I told myself I was not going to chase after a woman who did not care enough to at least acknowledge she had received my love letter.” His lips curved into a rueful smile. “Arrogant. Proud. Stupid.”

“Not stupid.”

“Yes, stupid. It did not occur to me until several weeks later there might be another reason why you had not replied. What if there were something you were afraid to tell me? What if you were left dealing with the unintended consequences of that night, and thought you were on your own?”

He made a sound of self-derision. “Strange as it may seem, that only fueled my anger. That you would think me such an ogre you could not tell me. I almost picked up the phone to call you again, but the question I needed to ask...I did not want to confront you, and I feared you might hear the anger and hurt in my voice. So instead I wrote to ask if you were carrying our child.” Juliana caught her breath. “When you never responded to my second email I agonized for two days, then went to your father to inquire about you.”

“You told my father we...?”
Is that how he knew?
she wondered.

“No, of course not. I merely asked if he had heard from you. If he knew how you were doing. I pretended I was asking on Mara's behalf. He said you had told him you were very busy with school, too busy to write or call often.”

Pain and guilt chased across Juliana's face. “I did tell him that,” she admitted. “I was so wrapped up in thoughts of you that I...I really didn't want to focus on anything else just then. Not my classes. Not even my father. I spent most of my time waiting to hear from you.” She started to tell Andre her father had known all along anyway, but he spoke before she could.

“After my conversation with your father I tried to call you, but again you did not pick up.” Regret over lost chances was obvious in his expression. “So I wrote to you a third time, just before my unit shipped out to begin serving with the UN peacekeeping force in Afghanistan. Desperate to hear from you by then. Putting my pride aside, begging you to tell me if I had somehow offended you by asking if you were pregnant, even though that had never been my intention. Then I received an email reply saying you were not pregnant. Just that. One sentence.”

She shook her head vociferously. “I didn't!”

“I know that now. But at the time? And yet, it did not sound like you. Part of me was sure you would tell me if... But just in case...I had to know. I could not go to Virginia myself—I was already serving in a combat zone in defiance of my father's wishes by that time, and I could not desert my post. I could not even request temporary leave—so I sent a trusted agent from Zakhar to check on you. When I knew you were not pregnant I was both relieved and disappointed.”

“I don't understand.”

He smiled sadly and raised a hand to caress her cheek once before letting it drop back to his side. “Relieved for your sake, little one. I wanted you to attend college, to see something of the world before...” His eyes held hers. “Disappointed...that was for me. I
wanted
you to be carrying our child. It would have been all the excuse I needed to bring you back to Zakhar and marry you out of hand, even though you were too young.”

“Why didn't you? You knew I loved you, so why...?”

“I was twenty-two. You were eighteen. You had led a sheltered life, and I...I had already known for two years I loved you. Had already denied my own desires waiting for you to grow up.” His eyes were bleak. “I needed you to be sure of your love. I needed you to understand how it was for me.

“But then you came to me that night. All soft and yielding, even more than my dreams. Offering me your love so sweetly I had no power to resist. I should never have taken what you offered that night—I know that. But I was too arrogant to know then that wanting is not enough. Even loving is not enough, not if there is no pledge for the future. And to my everlasting shame I did not give you that. There are some things a man does not do, Juliana. Not if he is to live with himself. But I have paid for that night.” He laughed without humor and said under his breath, “I have paid bitterly.”

She was barely able to get the word out. “How?”

His face contracted, and his lips tightened. “The tabloids love nothing better than to print scandal, especially about European royalty. If they cannot find a true story, they will make one up. They have been making up stories about me for years, about the latest woman in my life. I merely had to look at a woman and the world was told we were lovers. But there is a reason the tabloids must make up stories—there
is
no woman in my life...and has not been for eleven years.”

At her amazed and wondering expression, he added drily, “No man, either. And yes, those rumors have been whispered in some circles because I do not use women for pleasure.” He smiled in self-mockery. “No one wants to believe a man can remain faithful to the memory of a woman despite the many temptations crossing his path. No one wants to believe he can remain celibate...for the sake of a woman and one precious night.”

“For...me?” Juliana asked in a hushed voice.

“Only for you.”

 

Chapter 17

J
uliana's eyes squeezed shut in pain as she comprehended the enormity of what Andre was saying. For any heterosexual man to voluntarily forgo female companionship completely for such a length of time was unbelievable, unheard of. And for a reigning monarch whose word was law in his country, wealthy beyond most men's dreams, virile and in the prime of his life—just how virile she had ample proof—it was beyond comprehension. And yet she knew he was telling the truth.

“King's Ransom,”
she whispered under her breath. “You loved me...like he loved Eleonora.”

He nodded slowly. “At first I remained faithful because I thought you were faithful to me.” He hesitated. “I must tell you. I knew you were dating in college. My agent reported he had seen you—more than once—in the company of other men.”

Juliana's gaze fell before his, remembering. Then she looked up at Andre again, determined to be honest with him. “I was so hurt...and yes, angry...at what I thought was your rejection that I did accept dates with other men. That's true. I won't lie to you. I told myself you weren't the only man in the world—that if you didn't want me, other men did. But none of them was you, and I...”

A self-deprecating smile touched his lips. “I had wanted you to spread your wings, little one, just not that way. I had not expected it of you. I will not lie either—I was jealous. And hurt. But I was still arrogant enough to believe you loved me in your heart of hearts.”

“Andre—”

“No, let me finish, little one. I did not call again because by that time I knew if I heard your voice I would not be able to wait—your voice was a fire in my blood, and if I heard it I would have to have you with me. It was that simple. Yet how could I have you with me in a battle zone? In Afghanistan? I could not put you in danger that way. It was easier not to risk hearing your voice.

“I did not write again because the only words that occurred to me were demands for you to admit you loved me and pleas for you to return to Zakhar immediately and marry me, both things I swore to myself I would not do. Not until you had finished college. Not until you were a woman grown. And of course, I was not even in Zakhar at that time. Returning before my tour of duty was up would have been a shameful thing. I could not do that...unless you were carrying our child. And by that time I knew you were not.

“Then, too, I had not heard from you except for that one cold sentence.” His lips tightened. “My father's agents must have blocked my outgoing calls, intercepted my emails to you and every one of your attempts to contact me, so I did not know...”

She touched his arm in empathy for the pain his father's machinations and his own self-denial had brought him. “A soldier's lot is a lonely one,” he continued. “His personal life is on hold. Often the only thing sustaining him is his belief in the importance of his mission. And that his loved ones will be there when he returns. Each day that passed without you was harder than the one before. Even though my days in Afghanistan demanded my full attention, the thought of you kept me going. But the nights...” He paused and his jaw tightened.

“And yet I told myself I could survive because I would see you once school was over for the year,” he continued finally, “that of course you would spend the summer in Zakhar, and you would be there waiting for me when I returned from my tour of duty. I would have the chance to woo you in person as I should have done from the first. I would have you to myself for a few precious weeks, and you would know you were mine before I was forced to let you go again. But the end of the school year came and went, and you did not return. Not to Zakhar, not to me. Instead you went to Hollywood...and took a lover.”

His nostrils flared as he breathed deeply. “My first reaction was betrayal...and blinding rage.” The expression in his eyes frightened her for a moment. “I almost went after you then. After
him
. I could have killed him, and I told myself I could have taken you, forced you— No, Juliana.” He held her firmly, refusing to let her look away. “I
must
tell you and then we will never speak of it again. I told myself I could force you to take me, whether you wanted me or not. You
belonged
to me, and you had dared to give another man what was mine alone.”

Andre stared down at Juliana for endless seconds, until his frightening expression faded into something else. “But then I knew I could not. I could not take you in anger. I could never take you except in love—
but you did not love me!
My arrogance was humbled, and I knew somehow I did not deserve your love.”

“I didn't,” she began, wanting to deny that she'd taken a lover, but she knew she had no proof. Nothing to convince him. “What would have been the point of returning to Zakhar?” she said in a small voice. “I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought you had forgotten me.”

He smiled that faint smile. “That I could never do. But even though you did not return, even though you were not faithful to me, I remained faithful to you. I cannot really explain why. I did not start out saying, ‘There will never be another woman for me,' especially after I learned what you had done. But you were there whenever I looked at another woman, and I could not...”

He drew another deep breath and expelled it harshly. “Time did not stand still—I had a job to do, which I did. I could not forget you, but I could focus on the task I had set myself to accomplish—bringing the best of the twenty-first century to Zakhar and its people. And I could change myself into a man worthy of your love.”

“You were
always
worthy of my love,” she told him, fighting back tears. “And I never forgot you, either. I just didn't know you loved me...” She trailed off, wishing she could tell him the truth as she'd tried to tell him once before...and have him believe her.

“The years passed,” he continued when she stopped. “My father pressured me to marry into one of the royal houses of Europe—to father sons to inherit the throne after me. He was obsessed with it.” He laughed bitterly. “He must have regretted then that he had driven you away, but he never said anything, and I did not know. I only knew I could never marry another, could never father children with a woman I did not love—a woman who was not you. Not even for Zakhar.”

“Why didn't you...” she began, and when he looked a question at her she tried to put into words what she needed to know, needed to understand. “Why didn't you come to me years ago? Why did you wait so long?”

“I did not know you loved me. How could I? Your name was linked with one man after another.” His face was carved in stone, as if he could hide his pain behind a marble wall. “I watched your career from afar, waiting for you to realize the difference between what those other men offered you and what I did. Dreaming of a day when you would return to me because you could not stay away. Then my father died and I ascended the throne.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “There were other things I had to deal with then. Mara was one of them. That is another thing my father has to answer for. Someday I will tell you about her, but not today.” His eyes burned into hers. “And still I waited. Paying the price for that night. Wondering if I would ever pay enough.”

“You weren't the only one who paid for that night,” she whispered. His brows drew together in a questioning frown. “You ruined me for other men.”

A shaft of pain slashed across his face, and Juliana realized he'd misunderstood. “No, not that way. But every man I met I subconsciously measured against you. Every man who touched me, who kissed me...I remembered your touch, your kiss.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she confessed, “I remembered the feel of you deep inside me.” She shivered, her body responding to then and now. “I could never find a man who erased that memory, who made me
want
to forget you. And so I could never let them touch me...that way.”

He took a step closer. “What are you saying, Juliana? Are you telling me...?”

She knew he wouldn't ask. Didn't feel he had the right to ask. He loved her even believing she had not led a chaste life as he had. And in some elemental way that was as it should be. But she didn't want those lies about her to hurt him the way they'd hurt him for years. She had to try one more time. If he didn't believe her, at least she would have told him the truth.

“Yes,” she said. “You're not the only one the press lies about. The first time one of those magazines claimed I had taken a lover, I protested. I even went to my lawyer, thinking to demand a retraction, and if I didn't get one I would sue. I wanted to proclaim my innocence to the entire world, most especially to you. Even though I believed you didn't want me anymore, your opinion of me still
mattered
. But my lawyer made me see I could never prove it in court. The man...” She swallowed. “I
had
dated him. I just refused to sleep with him. His pride couldn't bear being rejected. So he lied. He was the ‘unnamed source' of the story. A trial would have come down to my word against his, with no guarantee anyone would believe me. And I was terrified that somehow you would be dragged into it...

“After that I knew there was no going back. I could never
prove
my innocence to anyone, much less you, so what did it matter?” She caught her breath on a sob, but forced it down. “I just closed my eyes and ears to the lies and continued acting. Only with acting could I escape the pain of losing you. Only when I was pretending to be someone else could I forget you.”

She swallowed again. “At least my family and close friends knew the truth. No one who really knew me believed the lies, and no one who believed the lies really knew me.” She looked away, remembering. “Then I returned to Zakhar to film
King's Ransom
and met you again.”

“The only reason for
King's Ransom
was to bring you here.”

Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “I don't understand.”

“I knew that love story had always fascinated you. I found a good screenwriter, paid her, gave her access to private historical records from the palace library to research the story. Then I contacted the studio and offered to underwrite the film, but gave them two conditions—anonymity...and you. No one was to know of my involvement, especially you. And no other actress could play Eleonora. Then when they signed you I granted them permission to film on location.”

“You...planned it?” she asked in wonder. “All of it?” When he nodded, she said, “I...I don't know what to say.” Amazed. Trying to calculate what it must have cost him—the financing alone on a movie like this would have been...

A king's ransom,
she acknowledged, stunned speechless by the realization.
Andre paid a king's ransom to bring me back to him. Just like...

“I had waited too long for you to return on your own, but you never did. I had to find a way to bring you back to Zakhar. To me.” He drew a deep breath. “I knew there was no other man in your life, and had not been for years. So I knew I still had a chance to win your love.”

“How did you know that?” She shook her head. “The stories in the magazines...on the internet...”

He hesitated, as if he didn't want to confess something, then he said, “I had men watching you. Guarding you.”

“What?” She didn't know if she should be angry, hurt or...touched. Touched that he'd wanted to win her back despite thinking the worst of her. Then she thought of something. “Do you have men guarding me here in Zakhar, too?”

“Of course,” he said simply. “You are precious to me. I would do anything to keep you safe, even if it means protecting you against your will.”

“That was one of your men? The man who saved my life when the car almost ran me down by accident?”

“Of course,” he said again. “Lieutenant Marek Zale, a good man. He headed up the team guarding you in Hollywood, the team that followed you here and kept you safe. But once he saved your life he had to be pulled off the protective detail surrounding you. I did not want you to know you were being guarded, and if you saw him again you might have become suspicious.” Then he added, “But was it an accident? I do not believe so, and neither does Lieutenant Zale. And there was the incident with the light that fell on the set.” He started to say something else, but Juliana interrupted.

“They had to be accidents,” she averred dismissively. “Who would want to kill me?”

He didn't answer and she was silent for a moment, putting aside that question and digesting his earlier statement about setting men to watch over her in Hollywood. Fitting this new aspect of him into what she'd thought she'd known. “When I met you again I didn't know what to think. You wanted me. You told me in no uncertain terms, but you thought I was...easy.”

“Never that,” he insisted fiercely. One arm wrapped around her like an iron band, drawing her flush against his body, and she could feel his desire. “Last night when you came to me...could you not tell? I thought it was painfully obvious the only reason I wanted you was because I loved you. Because I have always loved you.”

His face wrinkled in pain. “The other men in your life...I told myself they did not matter—they were part of the price I paid for taking your innocence and then letting you go without a word.” She closed her eyes at the harshness in his voice, but now she knew it wasn't directed at her; it was directed at himself. “But, Juliana,” he continued, “I could never take you except in love. That is what I meant that first night.”

She opened her eyes and saw the truth written on his beloved face. “I didn't know,” she told him softly. She brushed the fingers of one hand along the curve of his cheek and felt it harden beneath her touch. “I didn't understand. I thought you were just staking your claim as the next man to have me, even though you'd already had me years earlier.”