The Most Powerful Of Kings - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,66

‘I don’t...’

‘But don’t take my word for it,’ Xerxes said. ‘If you come with me he can tell you himself.’

Everything was the same. Nothing had changed. She still loved a lonely mountain of a man who’d cut her out of his life. Who’d told her that he would never wake up one day and realise that he wanted her love.

But it seemed as if never was here. And she had nothing better to do. The convent was still a prison. And there was a wedding. Her wedding.

‘Anna,’ Xerxes said gently when she didn’t move. ‘Please. He needs you.’

She didn’t know what that meant, and Xerxes wouldn’t explain, but in the end she went with him, shocked when she was taken from the convent to a private airfield and the royal jet took off up into the sky.

On the plane, Xerxes showed her a room where a simple, long, white, silky dress was hanging, plus a raft of feminine beauty products, hairbrushes and pins and make-up.

A wedding, Xerxes had said. Her wedding.

Anna’s heart thumped hard, and after Xerxes had closed the door behind her she stared at the dress on the hanger. Her wedding dress.

With shaking hands, she took it off the hanger and put it on. It fitted perfectly.

She paused over the make-up and then settled for her hair loose over her shoulders and a bit of lipstick. She didn’t need blusher. Her cheeks were already glowing.

And when she came out of the room, Xerxes’s smile filled the entire cabin.

Then there was nothing to do but wait.

Eventually, the jet touched down in Axios and she expected to be taken to the cathedral. Instead she was taken to a helicopter and bundled inside, and then they were flying over the mountains and across the sea, to a small, familiar island.

Anna’s eyes filled with tears as the helicopter touched down and the doors were opened, and then Xerxes was guiding her out of the machine and along a rocky path strewn with white rose petals that led to the sea.

And there on the pure white sand, with the blue of the ocean beyond, stood a man.

Just a man.

He was tall and broad and powerful, and he wore a simple white shirt with black trousers. His feet were bare, and pinned to his breast was a gold crowned lion.

He was looking at her and his eyes weren’t cold; they were a fierce bright blue, full of heat, full of the passion that burned in his soul. The mountain had become a volcano.

Anna’s throat closed and the tears threatened to spill, but when a little girl with bright red curls dressed in a sparkly white dress rushed up to her and thrust a bouquet of sea lilies into one of her hands while taking the other, Anna held on tight. And together they walked towards the man waiting on the beach.

There were only three others watching, Xerxes and his wife, Calista, and the priest standing with Adonis.

And when Anna arrived at last by his side he held out his hand to her, and the love and fierce possession that shone in his face made her heart tremble in her chest.

‘You came,’ he said, his deep voice hoarse as he took her hand in his. ‘I wasn’t sure if you would.’

‘I told you I’d wait.’ She took no notice of the tears on her cheeks. ‘And I would have waited even longer.’

‘I didn’t want you to.’ He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it, passion blazing in his eyes. ‘You already waited too long for me to come to my senses. Forgive me, little nun. I’ve caused you such pain.’

Anna’s tears fell and she didn’t wipe them away. ‘There’s nothing to forgive. You were just afraid and I understood that.’

‘But I never meant to hurt you.’ He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, keeping his gaze on hers all the while. ‘I should have trusted you and I didn’t. All I ever wanted was someone to put me first, to be more important to someone than a throne. But when you gave me that... I couldn’t take it. Because you were right, I was afraid. I told myself I was afraid that you would fail me somehow, but it wasn’t that. It was the pain I was afraid of.’

Her throat closed in helpless sympathy. ‘Oh, Adonis...’

His eyes gleamed hotter, fiercer. ‘I thought my detachment would save me from that, but it didn’t. There was too much inside me, all