“Your Majesty.” She greeted him with a teasing smirk that toyed with his self-control the way sweet cakes and candy tempted the most mischievous child. She was daring him to reprimand her about her calling him by his title.
It grated on everything inside him to hear her call him anything but what he called himself in his head. Aléxandros was the king. Aléx was the man. And more than anything, he wanted—no, needed—this woman to see him as a man. The king was what he did. The man was who he was.
“I hope Obsidian Island is ready for me, because Brooklyn is about to be in the house.”
He placed her hand in the curve of his bent arm and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek.
“I don’t think anyone on Obsidian Island is ready for you, Regina, least of all me. But I somehow think we’ll all be the better for being graced by your presence.”
Again, she blessed him with that big, beautiful smile, and all he wanted to do was tug her into his side and give her reason after reason to keep smiling at him with the same exuberance she was nearly blinding him with right now.
He remembered the last time he’d been this affected by a smile. Memories of a tall, slender woman with sandy brown hair and curious brown eyes looking back at him assailed him. The image was so sharp and so clear, he had to clutch the armrest to keep from reaching for her. As soon as the image came, it was gone, snatched away from him like she had been in real life.
Pain and regret traveled like bile from his gut, burning its way up his throat. When would his suffering stop? When would he be rid of this regret and guilt that always reminded him he wasn’t worthy of love?
“Aléx, are you okay?”
He blinked away his thoughts and, through sheer muscle memory, used all his public speaking training to turn on his kingly charm and assuage the worry he saw building in Regina’s pinched expression.
“I’m fine, Treasure. I’m simply cataloging the things I need to set in motion once we touch down.”
She turned her head to get a glance around the cabin. “I’m sure this plush plane has Wi-Fi capabilities. You don’t have to entertain me.”
He pulled her hand into his and pressed his lips to the tops of her fingers. Her hands were soft and warm, inviting him to take the peace she unknowingly offered him. He’d felt it the night they’d met. He’d felt safe and cared for, and worthy in her presence. The last four months without her had left him short-tempered with chaos knocking around inside him.
All that rage and noise quieted once he’d learned the woman who’d had such an impact on him that neither his body nor his mind could forget her wasn’t married to another king. He could have this again; all he had to do was keep her happy and show her his world wasn’t something to fear, and he would protect her from any and all threats.
“I couldn’t be better, Treasure. I’m just anxious to get you back home and make you my queen. The future we will have will be brilliant. You’ll never want to leave.”
“I think you’re right. I don’t ever want to leave this place.”
Regina stood slack-jawed as she took in the ocean view from the balcony in his private chamber. He’d purposely chosen this side of the palace so he’d wake up to seeing the sun kissing the sea, and the water making the island’s black sand sparkle like a flawless onyx.
“I’ve never seen black sand before.”
The glimmer of excitement in her eyes made him proud. Obsidian Island was part of him, after all. Knowing that she saw the same beauty in his homeland made his chest fill with pride.
“It’s very rare.” He pointed out the coastline. “That’s certainly part of its charm.”
“I’m sure there’s so many more charming things about it than the sand. Tell me about its history.”
He closed his hand around hers, gently directing her away from the balcony, through his quarters and downstairs. Regina could hardly keep up as she took in their surroundings. Impossibly high ceilings, Roman pillars, and antique furniture and fabrics that were as old as the nation itself grabbed her interest with ease. She hardly noticed they’d arrived at their destination until he released her hand and opened the set of thirty-foot double doors that partitioned the room off from the rest of the palace.
“This is the Hall of Kings and Queens. It’s the place where we honor the rulers of old, paying homage to their lives and their legacies.”
They stopped by a large glass statue of a woman dressed in regal attire with her scepter clutched tightly between her hands.
“She is breathtaking. Who is she?”
He could feel the sad smile curving his lips. “Queen Carisse. She was my mother. Her reign lasted thirty years. She died eight years ago.”
“And your father?”
“Six years later.” He cleared his throat, trying to keep the dull ache of loss at bay. He’d adored both his parents, and being without them still made him feel unbalanced, like he wasn’t quite himself.
“He, my sister, Eliana and I had our weekly family dinner. We reminisced about old times when it was still the four of us. Hewas happy, but tired, so he went to bed and went silently in his sleep.”
“I’m so sorry, Aléx. I can see you still feel their loss.”
