Who was Zechariah? He tried to remember if she had mentioned him before, but nothing came to mind. Was it . . . perhaps her lover? It would make sense if she had found
a Jewish man in the ranks to comfort her when Father kept her at arm’s length.
It hardly mattered. He chuckled because she expected it, and deliberately led her over a bumpy patch so that she would sway closer to his side. Ah, she smelled so fresh and
feminine. “And you remind me of no one—there is no other woman in all of the empire quite like you.”
Her laugh sounded dry. “I suspect you are right on that count.”
“I am.” He halted, the pulse pounding through him forbidding any longer delay. “Kasia, there is none to compare to you. I have always thought you one of the most
exquisite creatures to be found. But since we have become friends . . . you have stolen my heart. I—”
“Stop.” She pulled her hand from his arm and took a quick step away. Those spell-binding eyes shone with panic. Understandable. An affair with him would not be as simple
as one with some random Jewish soldier. She shook her head. “You must not say such things, Darius. I am your father’s wife and—”
“I love you.” He closed the distance again.
She held up a hand. “No. No, you love Artaynte. You have loved her for years, you cannot just fall in love with another in the course of a month.”
He caught her hand, pressed it to his chest. “I never knew her, she never let me. But you—you have always been so open, so honest. I have seen your heart, and I love you
for it.”
She tugged on her fingers. Were those tears burning her eyes? “Please do not say such things, Darius, I beg you. Let us forget this conversation—”
“Forget it? I cannot. I know you care for me—”
She blinked the tears away, and a hint of anger replaced them. Ah, such fire. How could he help but fall for her? No other woman would dare to give him a little push as she
reclaimed her hand. “Care, yes, just as I care for my brothers. But I am in love with your father—your father, Darius—and you shame us all by even thinking such things.”
“I realize he holds the greatest portion of your heart. But that did not stop you from finding your pleasure elsewhere before, so why should it now?”
Her palm connected with his cheek without warning. The sting was sharp—yet for some reason, it amused rather than angered him.
“How dare you!” She seethed, as if she had not already confessed to infidelity. Then she pivoted, tried to spin, but her foot caught on a rock.
Darius scooped her up before she could fall to the hard ground. And once he held her in his arms, what was he to do but dip his head and claim her lips?
Kasia morphed into a tigress and flailed her way out of his arms, her cheeks stained red. Yet when her dog charged up, she stopped him with a stern command.
Darius grinned. “Come, my sweet,” he said in the voice that always worked on other girls. “Why pretend innocence when you have already confessed to betraying my father?”
The color drained from her face. “For my God, Darius. I chose Jehovah over him, not some other man. I would never go to another. Never.”
Her eunuch arrived, seething, and Darius rolled his eyes. “Call off your beasts, Kasia. You know very well if either of them attacked me, it would be their deaths. You
cannot want that.”
Her jaw ticked. “Theron, take Zad back to Desma.”
“Mistress—”
“Darius will not hurt me.” She searched his eyes, as if not sure of her own words. “Would you?”
She might as well have pierced him with the slave’s dagger. “How can you even ask? I love you.”
“Stop saying that!” She raked her hair out of her eyes and watched the eunuch pull the dog away. “We will never be anything but friends.”
“Why? Because of my father?” He edged closer, slowly. Yes, she retreated, but that was fine. She backed herself right up against the wall and then had nowhere to go. “You
said yourself he will sentence you to anonymity in the harem. Is that what you want? A life devoid of passion?”
Her chin rose. “If that is what he decides, then so be it. Still I will love him and remain true.”
“For how long?” He boxed her in, breathed in her scent. “I can bring you both excitement and steady adoration. Perhaps he will even turn a blind eye and—”
“This is absurd.” Unable to move away, she straightened her spine. “How can you in good conscience make such an offer? I am even now carrying your sister!”
“It makes the timing perfect, really. There would be no consequences now. It would give us time to come up with a more permanent arrangement.”
Her eyes flashed, and her hands landed on his chest. She intended to shove him away again, he knew, but he could not let her escape so easily. It would only take a kiss. One
thorough, honest kiss. And she would be his.
*
Haman watched the prince tug the Jewess close, cover her mouth with his. She fought against him, but Darius seemed not to notice.