The King She Shouldn't Crave by Lela May Wight

Author:Lela May Wight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-12-04T19:17:05+00:00

* * *

Natalia had been swept and twirled into a thousand arms but not his.

A thousand different shades of colour filled the dance floor as an orchestra played a mix of contemporary ballads and traditional tunes. The clinking of glasses pinged within the hum of low voices. High-pitched laughter erupted from the tables around the great ballroom. Chandeliers flickered from the high ceilings.

But Angelo’s presence shone brightly in a room full of nondescript shadows, because she had known all night without looking where he was.

Because she felt him.

He was something familiar in a room full of unfamiliarity.

Her eyes found and locked to his over the shoulder of the man who had claimed her hand for a dance when she’d barely let go of her previous partner. Dark eyes stretched over the distance between them and held her entranced.

Angelo was every inch a king. Surrounded by bowing heads and bent knees, people hanging on to his every word, watching every tilt of his head. But his eyes, as they had all night, remained on her.

‘He can’t take his eyes off you.’

‘Pardon?’ she asked, ripping her attention from Angelo and placing it back where it should be. On the European prime minister with two left feet.

‘The King. He can’t take his eyes off you.’ A mouth accentuated by lines showing a life lived, sharing many smiles, smiled at her. ‘As I see neither can you take yours from him.’

She blushed. ‘I apologise.’

‘Please, no.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a joy to see young love bloom under a nation’s gaze.’

Love?

She forgot her feet. The steps. Made one step forward, one to the side, followed by one backwards, another slide—and trod on his feet instead.

‘I’m so sorry, my dear.’

‘This time it was me.’ She smiled. Too brightly. Too thinly. ‘Edgar,’ she added, too late, and flashed her teeth.

A deep chuckle vibrated in his upper chest and his grey combed-back hair fell forward. ‘Eddie, please, Your Majesty.’

‘Eddie,’ she confirmed.

‘Edgar makes me feel so old,’ he confessed, and manoeuvred them through another waltzing couple. ‘I have lived many years, and through the reigns of many kings and even more princes, but your king is a unique breed.’

She frowned. ‘Breed?’

‘The type of king who has had to lose it all in order to learn what being a king actually means,’ he explained, explaining nothing at all. ‘And those kings are usually the best ones, don’t you agree?’

‘Don’t I agree with what?’

‘Your king has lost his mother, his father and his brother. His entire family—gone.’ He blew out a puff of air and she refrained from removing the spots of spittle from her cheek. ‘And his brother was lost so tragically, of course.’

‘Tragically?’ she said huskily.

‘My dear...’ He searched her gaze with narrowed eyes. ‘The fire.’

‘Fire?’

He nodded. ‘King Luciano—’

‘King Luciano?’ she repeated, waiting for his correction.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘Young Luciano—such a promising king—died in a fire in the mountains. In Camalò’s second palace. The fire ravaged everything. There was nothing left...no body to bury... It was whispered that

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