9. Xander

CHAPTER 9

XANDER

A my paces beside me, starting to pick at the nail polish on her thumb before stopping herself. “An engagement party. I’m having an engagement party.”

I chuckle and glance at the suit hanging on the back of the door. “Yeah, we are. Which means that you need to go get ready because we’re supposed to be downstairs in the next two hours.”

“It’s only been two days since the announcement was made. Don’t you think we should’ve waited longer?”

“This is all going to move fast.” I step into her path and cup her face in my hands, trying to smother a smile at the deer-in-the-headlights look she gives me. “You can handle this. Daphne has been training you on what to say and how to behave. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Until I trip on my dress. The last time I wore a gown was my high school prom.”

My hands drop. “I don’t know what prom is.”

Aunt Meri walks through the door, her skirt trailing behind her. “I thought I heard the two of you in here.”

Daphne scurries in after her. “Come on, Amy. The makeup artist is here and ready to transform you.”

I mouth a thank-you to Daphne as she sweeps Amy out of the room before Aunt Meri can start drilling her with questions.

Uncle Stavros enters, sitting down in one of the leather chairs near the door. “You should think about redecorating your chambers. You’re not a bachelor anymore, and your fiancée is going to want to stay in a room that doesn’t remind her of all the women you’ve been with.”

“I haven’t been with any women in this chamber,” I say, voice tight as I sit down across from him.

Aunt Meri takes one of the other chairs, tossing her blond hair over one shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”

I glance through the doors that lead from the sitting room into the bedroom. Everything is dark and reddish wood tones, suiting Yorgos’s style more than my own.

What would Amy like?

“Really though, Xander. What were you thinking when getting involved with an American? How long have the two of you really been together?”

“We were together for close to a year before we got engaged,” I say, sticking with the story Amy and I worked out together.

A year would’ve been around the time I stopped being seen in public with women I was clearly sleeping with. There would be some tabloid pictures that overlapped, but most of them would be from business trips with foreign dignitaries and their wives and daughters.

Which I had a hell of a time explaining to Amy yesterday after I saw that magazine she bought.

Uncle Stavros’s eyes narrow, zeroing in on me. Sometimes he looks so much like my father that it makes me uneasy. Spending time with him would be easier if it didn’t feel like spending time with a ghost.

He shakes his head, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t know about this. Are you sure that you want to marry an American?”

“I don’t see why you all care so much about where she comes from.” I lean forward, resting my folded arms on the table. “Amy is a good woman, and we love each other. She’s going to be good for Katastinia.”

“You’re young and blind to what the country is going to think.” Aunt Meri reaches out to give my hand a sympathetic pat like I’m a child again and she’s soothing me from something my father said to upset me.

“I’m not that young.” I pull back from her. “Amy and I will be getting married, and you two are going to be happy for us.”

“Of course.” Stavros gets up and goes to one of the bookshelves, browsing through the titles until he finds the fake book filled with cigars that Yorgos liked to keep.

I never developed a taste for them, but most of the men in my family have always preferred to make their decisions around a table with cigar smoke in the air.

He opens the box and takes out a cigar, sliding it into his pocket for later. “You’ll get married, but the pressures of politics are going to be hard for her to deal with.”

“You don’t know her, so you can’t make that assessment,” I say, tone sharp as I glare at them. “You’ll both need to take a step back. Amy can handle herself, and she is going to be a good queen.”

“Who are you trying to convince?” Aunt Meri asks, her smile smug as she stands and heads for the door. “We’ll see you at the party, Xander. Hopefully your fiancée doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

Uncle Stavros follows her, the door shutting behind them.

I get up and lock the door, needing some time to myself.

Convincing the pair of them that the marriage is real will be the most difficult part of the entire plan. Both are skeptical by nature, and Uncle Stavros has always looked for a reason to assume the crown.

If I’m forced to abdicate, he’s the next in line.

I need public approval to go up.

And I need to make sure that the sharks circling Amy don’t eat her alive.

I stand at the foot of the spiral staircase, adjusting my gold cufflinks as light music comes from the ballroom. Soft voices flow through the hall above me before Amy appears at the top of the stairs, wearing a deep emerald gown that forms to her body like it was made for her.

She grabs the railing like she’s afraid she’s going to fall, turning to look at Daphne over her shoulder. Daphne motions for her to keep going and she finds her footing, starting her way down the stairs.

I stop fussing with my sleeves and take the stairs two at a time, never taking my eyes off her. The bodice of her dress is structured, but the panels of fabric are sheer along her stomach. With each step, the slit that travels up to her thigh shows off her long leg and matching heel.

When I reach her, she looks at me with dark-lined eyes.

“Hi,” is all I’m able to say, so overcome with her beauty.

That’s the best I can come up with?

I’m not supposed to be attracted to her or get attached.

This marriage is only for show. Amy is going to leave at the end of the contract, and I’m not going to see her again. We’ll both go back to our separate lives.

Except, when her full lips part and she sighs, all I want to do is lean in for a stolen kiss.

We reach the bottom of the steps together and she stops, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can. Just be you.” I hold out my elbow for her to take, and she slips her hand through it.

Her fingers tremble against me. “I don’t think they’re going to like that very much. I don’t have a clue about your politics or anything else about Katastinia, even though Daphne has been trying to teach me. What am I going to talk to people about?”

“You can talk to them about the wedding or what you used to do in America. Maybe about your family.”

“Ah yes, everyone loves a good dead family story at an engagement party. Will you be telling yours?” she asks, amusement in her voice.

I shrug. “Pity points really couldn’t hurt us right now. People might be nicer if we remind them that we’re just a couple of orphans trying to do our best in the world.”

Amy laughs and shakes her head as we stop outside the pair of towering double doors leading into the ballroom. “We’re not going to go around telling everybody that we’re orphans. We don’t need to put that on everyone else.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s still my backup plan. If anyone starts to bother me too much, I’m going to launch fully into the I’m so sad my parents couldn’t be here to see this speech.”

“That’s cold.”

“Does it matter if the sentiment behind it is true?” I nudge her with my hip, trying to get her to laugh again.

She struggles to smother her smile. “I don’t think that’s the point.”

“But it made you laugh.” I give her hand a squeeze as the music pauses. “That’s our cue.”

The doors swing open as I put on the smile I’ve rehearsed since I was born.

Amy stands taller beside me, her gaze flicking around the room and back at me.

The music starts up again, people clapping as we make our way to the middle of the ballroom.

Amy’s eyes widen as I remove my arm from her grip, taking her hand and spinning her around before pulling her back to me. One of her hands lands on my shoulder while she keeps the other clasped firmly in mine.

I press my hand to the small of her back, leading her in a waltz around the room. “Everything is going good.”

She gives me a flat look. “I’m standing on your toes.”

“Well, you’re not great at dancing.” I smirk as she pinches my shoulder playfully. “We have time to fix that before the wedding, though.”

“I can’t do intensive dancing lessons for eight hours a day. You know that, right?”

I snort and dip her low before pulling her back to me as the song ends. “You don’t have to worry about hours of lessons. We’ll only have to worry about a first dance. That should be easy enough.”

“You’ve been dancing for your entire life. I don’t know how I’m going to catch up.” She takes my hand as I head for the bar in the corner.

Aunt Meri steps into our path before we can get far, her hands on her hips and her nose in the air. “I thought there was something off about this situation.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hold up Amy’s hand, showing off the ring on her finger. “Amy, this is Aunt Meri.”

My aunt sniffs and barely spares her a glance before turning her attention back to me. “You didn’t seem happy, Xander, and you know we only want you to be happy. This woman has never set foot in Katastinia before this week.”

“You’re right.” I wait for her to say something else as her face glows a deep shade of red.

Aunt Meri crosses her arms, gaze flitting around the room to make sure nobody is watching us. “I know that this marriage is a sham, and the pair of you better make sure the rest of the country never finds out.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, stepping forward and lowering my voice. “I think you’ve had one too many to drink, and now you’re a little confused about what’s happening here.”

She scowls. “The country is going to lose all respect for you.”