“Is there a woman on earth you haven’t taken to bed?”
“Dozens,” he drawled. “Too bad you’ll be one of them.”
She blinked. “Wow. Just wow.”
He threw her the most charming of smiles. “I did come out here to see how the meeting with your father went.”
She considered him. He looked sincere. “It was...fine.”
“Fine?”
“I wasn’t expecting an outpouring of affection.”
“So what did you get?”
She hesitated, unsure if she should be sharing this with him. He spread his hands wide. “The king trusts me with his military secrets...”
“He was aloof,” she said. “Abrupt. He said he cared for my mother but never loved her. That there is no room for love when you are married to the state.”
“It’s a tough job,” Aristos offered. “Your life can’t be your own.”
She was sure that was true. “My mother painted me a rosy picture,” she said in response to his continued study. “She led me to believe she and my father were very much in love, to protect me I know, but I think I would have preferred the truth.”
“Love is a concept we’ve all been trained to believe in. It gives us false expectations of our relationships, convinces us monogamy, a lifelong, eternal love, is the norm, when in fact it isn’t. Human biology, the study of other animals, tells us that. And yet we continue to aspire to it because we think it’s the right thing to do. The golden ideal.”
She absorbed the depth of his cynicism. “So you don’t believe love exists?”
“No, I don’t. I think love is actually sexual attraction disguised as something deeper. When that fades, as it always does as evolutionary history has proven, people drift apart.”
She didn’t want to believe that was true. Didn’t want to let go of her idealism so easily. For if the king of England was willing to abdicate for Wallis Simpson, didn’t true love have to exist? If Scarlett and Rhett’s passion could survive a civil war and two marriages, wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime bond possible? If it wasn’t, if it was only the stuff of fiction, then all her daydreaming during her stolen moments with a book had been an exercise in foolish fantasy.
She wasn’t letting him burst yet another bubble, she decided. Not at this particular moment when she needed some illusions to hang on to.
“So what happens now?” he prompted.
“I have to decide whether I want to be a princess.”
“There’s a decision there? I thought every woman wanted to be a princess.”
“Not me. I love my life in Stygos.”
“So you’re going to spend the rest of your life living in a tiny coastal village when you could be exploring the world?’
“Lots of people would give their right hand to live in Stygos.” She couldn’t help the defensive note in her voice. “What’s wrong with a quiet life?”
“Nothing if you’re fifty. What do you do there?”
“I run my family’s hotel with my mother.”
“And when you’re not working?”
“I see friends or I...read.” Her chin rose at his mocking look. “The hotel business is a 24/7 occupation.”
“I know that, Alex. I run several of them. I also know what hard work it is if you own a small property and have to do everything yourself. You could leave that behind. Hire someone to work with your mother.”
She shook her head. “My mother and I made a pact when my uncle turned the hotel over to her to run. We promised we would always be a team, that we would do this together. To leave her seems like a betrayal.”
“But these are extraordinary circumstances. Are there other family members who can help?”
“My cousin, yes. Much of my extended family is involved in the business.”
“Then you shouldn’t worry about it.”
“But I love it. I love getting to know people. I love making them happy for a week or two out of their year. I love being busy. If a person has a calling, this is mine.”
“Because you don’t know any differently.” He eyed her. “I think it’s wonderful you and your mother are so close. But someday you’re going to have to break free of that bond.”
She bit her lip. “You think it’s a crutch for me?”
“Your words... What I’m saying is that life is about living. Having the freedom to live. When was the last time you went out on a date?”
A long time.
“That long, huh?”
“A year. Since my boyfriend and I broke up.”
“And he was?”
“Sebastien Soukis. He’s the butcher from the next village.”
An amused glint entered his eyes. “Don’t tell me... He knows how to handle a woman.”
Her mouth tightened. “It’s a very respectable profession. Whereas yours is questionable.”
“Right.” He nodded. “I steal unsuspecting people’s money.”
“I didn’t quite put it like that.”
“Yes, you did. So what happened between you and Soukis?”
“I—” She waved a hand at him. “We decided to split.”
“You were bored.”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“And you said no because?”
“It didn’t seem right. I couldn’t...envision it.”
“Because it would have been too limited a life for you. You are young, Aleksandra. If you accept this opportunity, you’ll have a life, experiences few people will ever have. A life most people would give their right arm for. What’s the hesitation?”
“The fear of the unknown.” The anxiety that had been plaguing her all day tipped over into an honesty she couldn’t contain. “I’m happy with my life. What if I do this and I’m terrible at it? What if I give up everything and find out it was a big mistake?”
“Then you go home,” he said softly. “But don’t shy away from this opportunity because you’re scared. It’s harder to run from your fears than face them. Trust me.”
She took in his ultra-confident, ever-so-self-assured persona. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“Why? Because I’m a powerful man? It wasn’t always that way. I’ve had my own conflicts. Two different roads I could have taken. It would have been easy for me to take the simpler one, the one I was drifting toward at the time, but it wouldn’t have been the right one. Taking yourself out of your comfort zone is the most powerful thing you can do.”
That intrigued her. “What were they? The two roads?”
“Ancient history.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “My point is you should take the jump, Princess. Privilege is a powerful thing. Use it wisely and it’ll be worth the reward.”
His touch sent an electric impulse firing through her. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as a shiver of reaction chased up her spine. If she’d been hoping her visceral response to him was a product of the champagne that night, she’d been sadly mistaken. She hadn’t touched but two sips of her wine before dinner, and still she was so aware of him she wanted to jump out of her skin.
His dark,