Pretender to the Throne(36)

                “And we shall have to plan a party. To celebrate my return, and to celebrate our engagement. And hope it isn’t perceived as tacky since my father is ill.”

                “Maybe you can talk to Stavros about that?”

                “Oh, yes, I could talk to Stavros, though it seems he would rather not talk to me.”

                “Eva, then?”

                “I should talk to both of them.”

                She frowned. “I’m sure we can find a way to make sure it doesn’t look tacky. If we try and portray it as a show of strength for the country. No matter how dark the night, the dawn is coming, and so on.”

                “See,” he said, smiling, “this is why I need you.”

                Those words did something to her. Made her heart feel like it was unfolding, like it was expanding. Made her feel a little bit of pain, a little bit of pleasure. But it was stupid. It wasn’t flattering. He only needed her because he was a gigantic PR nightmare. Such a gigantic PR nightmare that a scarred almost-nun looked good by comparison.

                “Well, I’ll do what I can to help. Though, it’s not for you.”

                “I’m sure it’s not.”

                “It’s for my country.”

                “Do you owe this country anything?” he asked. “After the way they treated you, do you really owe them anything?”

                “One man with a cup of acid isn’t Kyonos, Xander.”

                “And one man with a cup of acid shouldn’t be your whole life, Layna,” he said, his voice rough, his eyes suddenly serious.

                “To what do I owe the sincerity?”

                “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

                “Then why are you so often the one who hurts me?” she asked, her newly unfurled heart closing tightly again. Like a flower suddenly deprived of sunlight.

                “It’s a gift I have,” he said, looking away from her, out the window. “It’s what I seem to do. I hurt people who genuinely don’t deserve it.” He looked back at her. “I guess that’s your warning. You can back out now if you want.”

                Something in his eyes sent a shock through her. It was a window into his pain. It hadn’t been there fifteen years ago, but it was there now, as obvious as if he’d spoken about it out loud. In that brief moment she had the sense that she was standing on the edge of a chasm, looking down into an abyss that had no end.

                It frightened her. And it made him impossible to turn away from.

                “You couldn’t possibly hurt me any more than I’ve already been hurt.” Even as she said it, she had a feeling it was a lie. She hadn’t kissed him yet, much less gone to bed with him. She hadn’t heard about the wounds he carried deep inside of himself.

                He knew it was a lie, too. She could tell by the way his lips curved up, could tell now, that the expression was false. That there was no real humor in it. No real warmth. “Well then, we had better make a formal announcement.”

                “I suppose we’d better.”

                “You will need a dress, for the engagement party. I trust you won’t mind if I use a professional shopper to select one for you?”