Captured and Crowned Read Free Page B

“Yes, you’re right.”
    He’d talk to her, all right. He’d let her know that he’d not tolerate her flirtations. That he’d have her watched carefully since he knew she was not to be trusted.
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    But the following day at the accession ceremony Demetria was embarrassingly absent.
    â€œPlease forgive her, Your Majesty,” Sandros Andreou implored as he bent in as deep a bow as a man with such a considerable girth could manage. “Demetria went on a shopping jaunt for her wedding trousseau hours before Crown Prince Gregor abdicated. I haven’t been able to reach her on her mobile phone to tell her of the news.”
    â€œShe is alone?”
    The old Greek shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
    â€œDon’t you know where she went?” Kristo asked, furious that the man hadn’t kept a closer eye on his daughter. “Couldn’t you send a messenger to find her?”
    Sandros Andreou’s face turned an ugly purple. “I wasn’t sure where to send him, Your Majesty. Her sister thought she went to Istanbul, but the maid thought she went to Italy.”
    â€œThis is intolerable,” Kristo growled. She could be anywhere, with anyone. She could even be entertaining some man!
    â€œRest assured that when she returns I will have her contact—”
    Kristo silenced the man with one wave of his hand that looked surprisingly like the dismissing gesture his father had employed. The wave he’d hated.
    â€œI will see to it myself. Considering the turn of events, itwould be wise if your daughter stayed here at the palace until the wedding.”
    â€œFor twelve days?” Then, as if remembering who he was addressing, Sandros quickly demurred. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
    â€œYou and your family are welcome to avail yourselves of the guesthouse the day before the wedding.”
    â€œThe day before?” Andreou repeated.
    â€œYes. That is all.”
    The old Greek attempted another bow before taking his leave.
    Kristo pushed from his chair and stalked to the window, more restless than he recalled being in years. His gaze fixed on the ridge of mountains in the distance.
    Graceful cypresses and thickets of olives blanketed the rugged terrain and helped to conceal Angyra’s most treasured commodity. Rhoda gold—a pure metal kissed with a rosy blush and prized all over the world.
    The ore taken from the Chrysos Mine had made the Stanrakis family rich beyond measure. It had turned this island kingdom into a mecca that now brought tourists here in droves to buy a trinket made of Rhoda gold.
    But an equally rare treasure was the sea turtles. Protecting their nesting ground was his personal challenge, and that had evolved into his secretly backing similar programs worldwide. But who would pick up that challenge now?
    â€œWhat are you going to do?” Mikhael asked.
    The answer was simple. At least to him. “Find Demetria and bring her here.”
    â€œBut the wedding is less than two weeks away. Women have much to do before such an event.”
    â€œShe can attend to anything that needs be done here.” And he could keep a close watch on her that way.
    She would not take a stroll along the beach and entertain a stranger the day before their wedding!
    â€œWhat if the lady refuses?”
    He cut his brother a knowing look. “I am not giving her a choice.”
    Mikhael’s eyes went wide. “You can’t mean to kidnap her?”
    â€œI most certainly do.”
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    In a small shop in Istanbul, Demetria Andreou unwrapped a yard of Egyptian cotton from the bolt, blissfully unaware of the drama taking place on Angyra. She tested the way the soft fabric shot with silver, copper and gold flowed over her arm like a molten waterfall. Her heart raced with excitement, for when cloth seemed this much alive she knew a garment made of it would positively explode with motion.
    â€œHow many bolts of this do you