Twin Heirs to His Throne(15)

For now, she couldn’t even figure out what had happened since Leonid had said they had to go to Zorya in a day’s time.

That statement had been met with her finest snort. But he’d been as serious as a tidal wave, inundating her objections. And as she continued to discover, resistance with him was indeed futile.

After he’d left, she’d done what he’d made her agree to, called every person, agency and organization she’d made prior plans, signed contracts or had delivery dates with, to request extensions. Not expecting to get any, she’d felt secure that these commitments would be her excuse not to comply with his timetable.

But they’d all come back to her within hours, offering her all the time she wanted. Sans penalty. Some with an increase in compensation for her “extra time and effort.”

Not only was she burning to know how he’d done that, but she was getting more anxious about what he’d done to achieve these unbelievable results.

But now that she was sentenced to a night of sleepless torture in his company, she was bent on getting some answers. She wouldn’t let him escape her questioning again as he had so far, on account of being too busy preparing their departure.

She raised her gaze to him, found him studying her with yet another inscrutable expression in his incredible eyes.

Suppressing tremors of longing, she cocked her head at him. “Now that you have nowhere to go for the next fourteen hours, you will tell me.”

His eyes maintained that enigmatic cast. “Who says I have nowhere to go? This jet has a depressurizing compartment in the rear so I can make a dash for it in extreme emergencies.”

“And you consider this one? You’d skydive from forty thousand feet, at six hundred miles an hour, into the big unknown below, to escape telling me how you got all those multibillion-dollar enterprises to postpone my multimillion-dollar deals with a smile and a bonus on top?”

His eyes crinkled, filling with what she thought she’d never see there again. Bedevilment. “If you saw the look in your eyes, you’d categorize this as a jump-worthy situation.”

Pursing her lips to suppress the moronic urge to grin at him, when for the past two years plus he’d certainly caused her nothing to grin about, she plastered her best attempt at severity on her face. “What did you do, Leonid?”

His lips mimicked hers in earnestness, but the smile kept attempting to escape. “What do you think I did?”

“I have theories, and fears. Not in your best interests to keep me in suspense with that combustible mix.”

A revving chuckle erupted deep in his endless chest. “I did mean it when I said I’d tell you when I had the time and presence of mind. But now that I realize you have all those theories and fears, I must hear them first. So you tell me what you think I did, and if it’s close, I’ll tell you the exact details.”

Was he...teasing her? What had gotten into him? Where was the automaton who’d stood on her doorstep playing back what had sounded like a recorded script and programmed responses?

Was he practicing the ease they’d display as newly reconciled husband and wife? He had said polite formality would be fine in public, but what if he’d decided it was more effective to give his adoring subjects a doting couple to moon over?

In other modern kingdoms, the alleged love stories between royal couples counted as a major asset for the monarchy, contributing to its political and social stability. It was also a huge source of economic prosperity via revenues for the media and tourism machines.

So now that she’d accommodated all his demands and he was no longer anxious about his plans, was he relaxing and rehearsing in preparation for giving the public a convincing performance?

Or was it even worse? Had he decided to enslave the world by reverting to his previous self, the one she’d fallen fathoms deep for, and hadn’t been able to kick her way to the surface since?

Unable to even think of the ramifications to herself if this was the case, she focused on his current challenge, knowing he wouldn’t reveal anything if she didn’t meet it.

“It’s not what I think as much as what I hope you did. For the future of my business, I hope there was no coercion or intimidation on your part, but that as a former world champion, current mogul and future king, you have endless strings to pull, gently, and that you binged on using all the favors you could.”

Those perfectly arched eyebrows shot up. “And leave myself in a favor deficit as I embark on ruling a historically contested land with a nascent independence amidst a turbulent sea of cranky killer-whale and bloodthirsty-shark nations?”

When he put it that way, her worries didn’t even seem relevant.

Shoulders drooping, she flopped back on the couch. “So my business was too small a fry for you to spend favors on, huh?”

He unbuckled himself, rose and came down beside her, much closer than his usual very long arm’s length. “Actually, your business is a huge enough fish I didn’t need to.”

Her wits scattering at his action, his nearness, she tried to focus on the meaning of his words. And failed.

Giving up, she croaked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the only good my calls did was explain the time-sensitive nature of your request, since you didn’t.”

“What exactly did you tell them?”

“The truth, but I requested their discretion until we made a public announcement. But they were already falling over themselves to adjust their plans to accommodate your needs. I just told them you needed their response ASAP for your peace of mind before our trip and subsequent major events. All I did was make them call you sooner with their acceptance.”

When she could only gape at him in disbelief, his lips crooked with what very dangerously resembled indulgent pride.

“I already knew how respected and valued you are, but today I discovered your popularity is phenomenal. You’ve built such a massive reserve of goodwill, such need for your name, products and collaboration, everyone said and proved they’d do whatever they had to for the opportunity to keep on working with you.”

Finding this revelation too much to accept, she shook her head. “They must have hoped it would be a big favor to you. Who wouldn’t want to be in your good graces?”

His pout was all gentle chastisement. “You don’t know your own influence on people at all, do you?”

I used to have a pretty good idea. Until you pulverized my belief in my own judgment and my self-esteem.

But it wasn’t time now, or ever, to voice that grievance.

“Even if some were willing to accommodate me, you have to be exaggerating such a sweeping response. It had to be your influence. They must have calculated that a point with you would appreciate astronomically. No advantage gained by rejecting my request would be worth being in your bad books.”

Without saying anything further, he got out his phone, dialed a number. In seconds, the line opened.

“Signor Bernatelli...” He paused for a second as an exclamation carried to her ears from the other side.

Sergio Bernatelli, the top Italian designer she was collaborating with in her biggest project to date, had recognized his voice, or saved his number. Probably both.

“...yes, it’s indeed fortunate to be talking to you again. Yes, we are on our way to Zorya.” Another pause as the man bubbled over on the other side. “That would be totally up to Kassandra. Why don’t you ask her? And can you please also repeat to her what you said to me when I called you earlier? Thank you, Signor Bernatelli, and look for our invitation to the coronation in the mail in a couple of weeks.”

After she numbly took the phone from him, she barely got a hello in before the flamboyant man submerged her in his excitement about her upgrade to royal status, and his hopes she would consider him for a creation designed for her to wear to the coronation, or any royal function at all. Before she could express her gratitude for such a gift—though it would mean huge publicity for him—he repeated everything Leonid had told her, in his far more over-the-top language, which he usually reserved for blistering complaints and demolishing critique.

After she ended the call, she kept staring at Leonid, tingling with the incredible praise Bernatelli had lavished on her. Not only where it pertained to him and his design empire, but to the whole field.

“I trust you believe me now?” Leonid smiled expectantly.

She started to nod, but stopped. “Maybe not. Maybe knowing I’d ask, you put him up to this so he’d back your story.”

Incredulity widened his eyes. “Following that reasoning, shouldn’t I have picked an accomplice you’d be more inclined to believe would have such a glowing opinion of you? Why pick that cantankerous scrooge when praises from him would be the most suspicious?”

“Maybe that’s exactly why you chose him, because it would have been too obvious to pick someone agreeable, and such a famed grouch’s vote would carry more weight and credibility.”

Leonid threw his hands up in the air, “Bozhe moy, Kassandra! That’s too convoluted for even me. My brain is now starting to ache trying to contort around that pretzeled piece of logic.”

She opened her mouth to confront him with another suspicion, but closed it. That was real bewilderment in his eyes. Worse, the levity that had been present all day, that she’d delighted in in spite of herself, was gone. She’d weirded him out because of her attack of dogged insecurity.