“No, thank you.”
She stepped forward, her gaze colliding with his. “What does he mean… Y-Your Majesty?”
Chapter Three
Your Majesty.
Izzy tugged on one ear, eyebrows squishing together. Couldn’t be, could it?
A shiver of apprehension coursed through her, and suddenly she felt a cold draft that had nothing to do with the temperature. “What does that mean?”
“Your Highness, I’m sorry if I have…” The server trailed off, touching his chest, visibly uncomfortable.
Nassor reached for his wallet and grabbed a few bills, handing it to the blushing man. “No problem. We’ll serve ourselves, thanks. You may go.”
The server left the cart and closed the door behind him.
Nassor opened the first two buttons of his white shirt and rubbed his neck. “I didn’t want to publicize my title yet. The server must have heard some gossip.”
“You’re the king of Gwokon?” How is he the king? Shit, him being a citizen of the country she wanted to expose was one thing—but the leader and maximum authority? Not so much. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. As far as she knew, King Feruzi still ruled. The man had no sons, only an estranged sister…hmmm.
“Not officially. My uncle has been sick and has agreed the best thing for the country is to retire from the title and let me rule. Coronation is in a few days.”
Whoa. Her knees weakened, and she had to force herself to stay upright. “I thought kings had to rule until they died.”
“As long as they’re fit to rule. My uncle has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and agreed to pass on the baton before it gets too bad.”
Nausea spread into her stomach. King Feruzi had supported a law that gave a slap on the hand of men who abused women. Women like Mary Roberts, her stepmother. She touched her stomach, wishing she had antacids in her purse. Fuck. She was screwed.
If he finds out what I’m planning, he’ll kill me.
But now it was too late to retreat. She’d signed a damn contract, and Madame Alexa had all her information. If she disappeared, they’d find her. Hell, he’d find her. A man with all the resources available to him.
“Are you okay?” He inched closer.
She lifted her hand in disagreement. “No. Well, you know, you being a king changes things.”
He tilted his head. “How?”
Because I want to find and expose Mary’s killer, and I doubt you’ll want this scandal so early into your ruling as king.
She touched her forehead, wiping the cool sweat on her skin. “I mean…you’re a big deal. What if I get kidnapped or something by one of your enemies?” she blurted, threading her fingers together, hoping he’d buy the story.
“You’ll be with me in my castle. You’ll have security guards should you leave the premises.”
In his castle? She dropped her arms at her sides and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other. Wait a minute. She’d have access, firsthand information. Hadn’t her stepmother, like many other thousands of tourists, visited the castle when she’d arrived in Gwokon? “Good.”
“Why don’t we enjoy dinner?” He removed the moon-shaped lid of a tray, displaying a gorgeous dish of lobster and sautéed vegetables. “We’ll worry about the fine print later.”
He showed her the other dishes, an impeccable array of tender filet mignon, more seafood, and a scrumptious salad. She picked a piece of bread, so soft and warm, it melted in her mouth. During dinner, he circumvented personal questions and talked about current events.
She managed to answer, despite her inner turmoil.
“If you like history, you’ll enjoy visiting some museums and sights. My country’s culture is very rich.”
She cut into her steak. “Rich and old-fashioned, I’m sure.”
“I have to say the south part of the country especially is very traditional. They still believe in things such as dowry, but the north part is slowly catching up to the western world.”
