The ring was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, stunning in its impact. The heavy antique gold of the narrow band shimmered warmly beneath the overhead lights. But the stones studding the band were what captivated Diandra the most.
The mix of Verdonia's unique amethysts heralded from her European homeland, world-renowned for its exquisitely colored gemstones. In this case, the pink "Celestia Blush," named after one of the three principalities that made up Verdonia, decorated the ring. Two perfect Celestia Blushes sat off-center on either side of a glorious squared Asscher-cut stone that could only be a pink diamond, though Diandra had never seen such a rarity before. Just as amazing, the band fit perfectly, encircling the ring finger of her left hand as though it had been made just for her.
Diandra struggled to tear her gaze from the ring and look at her cousin, Prince Merrick Montgomery. "I…I don't understand," she said. "Where did this come from?"
"My father asked that I give it to you. I gather he's been holding it until you returned to Verdonia." He lifted her hand, turning it into the light. "It's beautiful."
"But why would King Stefan—"
"He didn't say where it came from or why I was to give it to you." A slight frown tugged at Merrick's brow. "He's not feeling well, or I'd ask him for you."
She shook her head. "No, no. Don't disturb him."
"He said he'd been holding this for you for a while, and to tell you—" He hesitated.
"Tell me what?"
Merrick offered a teasing smile. "That this ring promises to bring the wearer her heart's desire."
Diandra felt her gaze drawn to her hand once again. The ring caught the light and splintered it into a dazzling rainbow of colors, as though offering a visual confirmation of Merrick's statement. "Do you suppose—" Emotion had her throat closing over. "Do you suppose this ring could have belonged to my mother?"
His gaze softened. "I suppose it's possible."
"Oh, Merrick. To have something like this that belonged to my mother, something that connects me to her." Tears of hope filled her eyes.
The timing couldn't have been better. Perhaps this would lead her to the proof she needed to counter the fabricated tell-all book that her former governess, Henny, was currently writing about the royal family. All she had to do was interpret its meaning. "It would make sense that King Stefan would hold on to it until he thought the time was right to pass it on to me. After all, Dad was his younger brother. It's something one brother would do for another, isn't it?"
"Sure it is." Merrick examined the ring once again. "I wonder what the history is behind it? It has an old-fashioned look to it."
"I'd love to find out. Maybe King Stefan—" Her excitement dimmed. "Could you ask him about the ring's origins when he's feeling better?"
"I did ask, and I'm sorry, Diandra. It looks like you'll have to find the answers on your own."
A touch of desperation swept through her. There was one question she'd always wanted to ask her mother, a question this ring could very well answer. "There must be a way. Someone, somewhere must recognize it." She gripped Merrick's arm. "You're head of Verdonia's Royal Security Force. You must have someone who's experienced in this sort of identification and background research. I know we had people at the museum where I worked who specialized in that."
When he hesitated, she pressed. "There is someone. I can tell from your expression there is. Who is it?"
"No one you want to deal with."
It only took a moment for her to make the connection. "You can't mean…" She fought to hide her dismay. "It's Jonas Tolken, isn't it?"
"He's the best there is at search, retrieval and background checks. An assignment like this wouldn't pose any problem at all for him. Not with his contacts."
She shook her head before he'd even finished speaking. "I can't. I just can't see him again."
"At some point you're going to have to."
But not yet. Not until she'd worked up the nerve to face him after that final, disastrous night. "Jonas works for you, doesn't he?"
Merrick shook his head. "He's in charge of Prince Brandt's Royal Guard. He resigned from the Royal Security Force shortly after you…left."
Diandra couldn't allow him to let her off so easily. "Don't bother painting it in rosy colors. I didn't just leave. I ran away." The irony of now having to confront the man she'd rejected bit, and bit hard. It also lent an air of anguish to her plea. "Are you certain there isn't anybody else? There must be someone on your staff capable of helping me with this sort of inquiry."
"Tolken's the best." Merrick's voice held a hint of compassion. "My advice is to get it over with. Dad's birthday ball is coming up. Tolken is bound to be there. You can't avoid him forever. If you approach him about this ring, you can face him in private. Deal with it, Diandra, so you can put the past behind you."
As much as she resisted Merrick's advice, it made sense. "Jonas is in Avernos?" she asked, referring to Verdonia's northernmost principality.
"At von Folke's palace. And one more thing?" A grimness settled into Merrick's expression. "Don't warn him you're coming."
Just great. "That bad?" she asked with a sinking heart.
"Worse."
Diandra spent a full week debating whether or not to approach Jonas. She used the time to do what research she could on her own, but met dead end after dead end until she finally conceded defeat. It was time to face facts. If she wanted to uncover the truth behind the ring King Stefan had given her—something of vital urgency—she needed help. And as Merrick has pointed out, Jonas was her best bet. Giving in to the inevitable, she threw clothes into an overnight bag and headed north.
As soon as she arrived at the palace, she requested an appointment with Jonas. It took a solid half hour to work her way through the hierarchy of staff and through the various security measures. Eventually, she was handed off to Prince Brandt's secretary, who ushered her into a private study.
It was a beautiful room, filled with built-in bookcases that revealed an owner of eclectic tastes in literature. Each piece of furniture was an antique that, under any other circumstances, would have filled her with delight. But right now, all she could think about was Jonas and how he'd react when he saw her again. She closed her eyes. Of equal concern was how she'd react. Five long, lonely years hadn't changed her feelings for him. Had they changed his?
Ten endless minutes later, when Diandra's nerves were stretched to the breaking point, Jonas entered the room. He'd changed, she realized in dismay. He'd always been physically intimidating—tall, broad and every bit as austere as his cousin, Prince Brandt. But during the time she'd been gone he'd also hardened visibly. It was evident in the cold remoteness of his black gaze as it swept over her, and the forbidding set of his jaw and posture the minute he realized who waited for him. This was the same man she had almost married, the man she'd once offered herself to? It seemed impossible.
Jonas was the first to break the silence. Sweeping the door shut just shy of a slam, he approached. Diandra locked her knees in place so she wouldn't retreat before his steady advance. His was a deliberate maneuver, meant to intimidate. Unfortunately, it was working. He didn't pause until he was a scant foot away, towering above her.
"What the hell are you doing here, Diandra?" he demanded.
Jonas Tolken entered the study, not quite believing that Princess Diandra Montgomery had requested to see him. He'd never thought she'd return to their Western European homeland of Verdonia, let alone track him down to Prince Brandt von Folke's palace. And maybe she wouldn't have returned home if not for the news that a former palace employee was now penning an unauthorized biography. One look assured him the woman in his study was Diandra—the woman who'd once promised to be his bride.
The woman who'd deserted him without a word of explanation.
He closed the door behind him with a sharp click, closeting them together in the study. Diandra had changed, he realized as he approached her. When last he'd seen her, she'd been all of eighteen, her body soft and rounded, still blurred with immaturity. But in the five years since, it had become honed, ripening in form and beauty, making her blossom into one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.
She shared the same leonine hair as her royal cousins, Prince Merrick and Prince Lander, the blonde streaked with every shade of brown from desert sand to umber. She also shared their hazel eyes, hers more green than gold. Right now intense emotion glinted there, a mixture of trepidation and wariness that betrayed her vulnerability—a vulnerability he intended to use to his full advantage. Never again would she betray or humiliate him.
Jonas approached, amused by the effort it took Diandra to hold her position in the face of his advance. "What the hell are you doing here, Diandra?" he demanded again, stopping directly in front of her.
He was so close he could see the frantic pulse that beat at the base of her throat and the betraying tremor of her mouth. Unfortunately it also meant he was close enough to inhale her unique scent with his every breath and see how the light caressed the pale, supple skin of her face and neck.
"I came to ask a favor."
Jonas couldn't prevent a bark of laughter. "You're joking."
She made a visible effort to gather her self-control. The minute she had, she thrust her hand beneath his nose. "I need your help finding out about this ring. I think it belonged to my mother. Please, Jonas. Merrick said you were the best person to find out where it came from and something about its history. I need some answers before Henny's book about my parents is released."
He stared at the ring, instantly recognizing it. Hell. What did he do now? To give himself a moment to think, he paced the width of the room, before turning to face her. "Just out of curiosity…why should I do anything to help you? I would have thought I'd be the last person you'd approach."
"You are," she didn't hesitate to confirm. "Maybe that tells you how desperate I am."
Desperate might work to his advantage, he decided. He'd have to play this by ear and see. "I understand you've been in the United States for the past five years." He tilted his head to one side. "Columbia University, wasn't it? An art major, I heard."
His comment must have stung, because she stiffened and her voice acquired a sharp edge. "It was Barnard College. I spent three full years, including summers, studying my backside off to earn an art history degree. I've been working for the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City ever since I graduated."
"And now you're back and want my help."
"Yes."
"You sound well-qualified for the sort of research you'd need to uncover the history of this ring. Investigate it on your own."
"I've tried." Frustration rippled through those two brief words. "I keep hitting dead ends. If the ring belonged to my mother, if it's part of the Montgomery estate, there should be some record of it. But there isn't. I don't understand it."
He did. The question was, what would he do about it? He had two choices: He could refuse her request and send her on her way. Or he could agree to lend his assistance and spend the next few days with her. At least that option would give him the opportunity to finish what they'd started all those years ago.
"I can help you," he admitted, then added with brutal honesty, "I'm just not sure I want to."
Her chin inched up and fire flashed in her eyes. "Do you want an apology for what I did five years ago? Fine. I apologize."
"So regal," he marveled. "So gracious."
Hot color scored her cheeks. "Cut me some slack, Jonas. I was an eighteen-year-old child. Our marriage would have been little more than a business contract, just like my parents'." It was her parents' relationship that her former governess, Henny, was threatening to reveal in her so-called biography. And it was one revelation in particular—that her parents had secretly despised each other—that Diandra was attempting to disprove.
"You can't really believe that?"
"Why not?" she countered. "Our engagement was arranged by our families when I was still a baby in diapers. I spent my entire life accepting the inevitable. But one day I woke up and realized I didn't want a marriage based on politics. I wanted to be married for love, not as a means of connecting two principalities that have been at odds throughout most of Verdonian history. So I took the easy way out," she admitted. "I ran."
"On the night of our engagement ball," he reminded her. The memory was a bitter one. "There I was all set to announce the big news, only my bride-to-be had vanished. Have you any idea what that felt like?"
"I'm sorry."
He caught a hint of compassion, and for some reason it roused an anger he hadn't thought himself capable of feeling anymore. "What happened to honor, Diandra? To duty and responsibility? What happened to the promises you made me?"
"Was I supposed to sacrifice myself on the altar of Montgomery and von Folke political demand?" She planted her hands on hips that were far more shapely than he remembered. "I guess I was foolish enough to hope for an affair of the heart. But what I got instead was an affair of state."
"An affair of state?" he repeated softly. "Is that what our last night together was?"
Her mouth quivered for an instant before she firmed it. "If I remember correctly, you called that a mistake."
"Should I have taken advantage of your offer? What sort of man would that have made me?"
"A passionate one."
Her comeback shot him straight over the edge and he came after her. He caged her in his arms, stilling her instinctive resistance. "Do you doubt my ability to be passionate, Diandra?"
Her breath quickened and she stared at him with eyes as vivid a green as spring leaves. "Let me go, Jonas."
"I did that once. I let you leave. I didn't come after you. I gave you the room you needed to grow up." His gaze swept over her, taking in every inch of the toned, rounded shape of her. "And you have, haven't you?"
"Stop it, Jonas."
"Coming back was your choice. Coming here was your choice. Don't blame me for taking advantage of your mistake."
"I returned to ask for your help. To find out about my mother's ring," she insisted.
"And I'll help you." He waited a beat. "For a price."
Alarm skittered across her face. "What do you mean? What price?"
"It won't be anything more than you're willing to give me. At least…nothing more than you were willing to give me the last night we were together."
"You can't mean—"
"Yes, Princess. I do mean." Jonas thrust his hands deep into the weighty mass of her hair, anchoring her in place. "The payment I want in exchange for finding the truth behind the ring you're wearing is one night in my bed."
Diandra froze in disbelief. Jonas couldn't be serious! He couldn't really mean that his price for helping her uncover the secrets of the ring she wore was a night in his bed?
Jonas continued to embrace her, his hands forked deep into her hair. He held her with a hard gaze. It sat at odds with the way he used to look at her, almost as though he were two different men. And maybe he was. Where once there'd been a softness lurking in those ebony eyes, a gentle patience, now all she saw was a cold ruthlessness.
She'd offered herself to this man once upon a time. It had been the day of their engagement ball and she'd wanted, with a painful desperation, to know his possession. To reassure herself that she was making the right decision, that their marriage would be more than one of political convenience. And he'd wanted her every bit as much.
Or so she'd thought right up until he'd refused her clumsy advances. Why had he done that? She'd never understood, and he'd refused to explain. But it had been that rejection that had ultimately sent her running.
She slid her hands along his arms to his wrists, encircling them. "What are you doing, Jonas?" she asked softly. "Are you this determined to take revenge?"
"You gave me a taste of something five years ago. Something I've hungered for ever since. One way or another, I intend to satisfy that hunger."
"And in exchange for a night in your bed, you'll find out where this ring came from and its history?" The pink-diamond-and-amethyst ring she wore flashed in the subdued lighting, symbols of love clashing with the far baser emotions stirring between the two of them.
"Yes." He lifted a sooty eyebrow. "Do you agree, Princess?"
He smiled at her in a way that told her he expected her to refuse his demand. She might have, too, if she hadn't been so desperate to find out about the ring. If the reputation of her parents and the truth about their marriage weren't at stake. Or was it just the ring that tempted her to accept his outrageous proposition?
Diandra couldn't help wondering if some secret part of her was curious to discover what it would have been like if he'd made love to her all those years ago. She shied from the thought. Getting answers about her parents and their ring was more important to her than anything else. She needed to know so that she could counter any negative publicity that her former governess, Henny, might spread about them.
But even more than that, she needed to know for herself what the true nature of her parents' relationship had been. Had she been produced to fulfill a royal obligation? Was she a product of love…or duty? To find the answer, no sacrifice was too great, including this one. She answered without giving herself time to consider any further.
"Fine. I agree," she told him. "I'll sleep with you."
She'd taken him by surprise, though it only lasted a split second. Jonas recovered swiftly, his predatory smile sending alarm jangling through her. "In that case, I want a down payment."
Her alarm increased, battling with an illicit excitement. "What sort of down payment?"
"Just this."
He lowered his head and kissed her. The delicious taste of him exploded on her tongue and caused every last brain cell to short circuit. Oh, God, she remembered this kiss, remembered every nuance and sensation. Always before she'd been helpless beneath the onslaught of desire that his lovemaking had aroused. But no longer. Five years had taught her a lot.
She swept her hands upward along his arms and across the impressive breadth of his chest. Had he always been this large, this well-muscled? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything except how wonderful it felt to be held like this again, to lose herself in the moment. No, not lose herself. Meld. That's how it had always been with him—a joining, a connection that went beyond the physical. She sank into the embrace, dueling with him in a delicious give-and-take. If he hadn't pulled back, she wasn't certain she'd have been able to.
She regarded him with as much assurance as she could manage. "I hope that will do."
"For now." His eyes narrowed. "Why is this so important to you, Diandra? You're sacrificing a lot for details about one simple ring."
"It's not a simple ring. I told you. I'm fairly certain it belonged to my mother."
For a brief moment, a hint of softness gentled his expression, a look that crossed the years and brought her full circle. "I know they died when you were two. But why would this particular ring be so important? I'm sure there are other family heirlooms. Why this one?"
"I was hoping…" She moistened her lips, fighting to maintain her composure. "I was hoping this ring would give me some sort of insight into their relationship."
He studied her, his gaze far too observant. "I'm sure King Stefan could tell you all you want to know about them. You don't have to go to this extreme."
"Yes, I do. There are…reasons."
To her relief, Jonas let it go. "Prince Brandt has offered to let you stay for as long as you'd like. I'll have you shown to your room. First thing in the morning, we'll begin the search."
She brightened at that. "Where do you plan to start?"
"There's a royal jeweler who retired a number of years ago and lives here in Avernos. I'll give him a call. If this ring was made for your parents, there's a good chance he'll recognize it and be able to give you some background information. I'll set up an appointment for first thing in the morning."
Excitement shot through Diandra. She was close. She could feel it. "I'll be ready."
The next morning, Jonas drove her into the mountains that were so prevalent in this part of Verdonia. It took about an hour to reach the jeweler's home, a pretty little A-frame set beneath the protective boughs of a stand of conifers. The elderly man, who introduced himself simply as Albert, met them at the door and ushered them into a small study kept snug and warm from the early spring chill by an oak-scented fire. He had tea waiting and spoke at some length about the royals he'd worked for and the various pieces he'd designed over the years.
Finally, he reached for Diandra's hand. "May I see the ring you've come about?" He took his time studying it, using a jeweler's loupe, before shaking his head. "This isn't one of my designs. I can give you some particulars about it, if you'd like?"
"Please, anything you can tell me would be appreciated."
He spared Jonas a brief glance, giving a subtle nod acknowledging their conversation from the previous day. Though Albert knew the origins of the ring, he'd agreed not to share those details with Diandra, just nonspecific background information. "This particular style of ring is called the Lovers' Embrace. It's unique to Verdonia and first came into popularity about a hundred years ago. It's not seen quite as often now, but sometimes a couple will request one." He set the loupe aside and smiled at her. "This ring you have is only half of the whole."
Diandra stared in bewilderment. "I don't understand."
"The Lovers' Embrace is actually two rings which lock together to form one. As you know, most rings designed in Verdonia mean something. The stones and band tell a story, if you will."
"What story does this ring tell?" she asked unevenly.
"It's hard to say for certain. The pink diamond is the most rare of all diamonds. This one is unquestionably from Argyle, Australia—the color is too rich to be from anywhere else. It's flanked by two Celestia Blushes. As I'm sure you're aware, Blushes symbolize a contract. So this ring could mean an eternal contract, one that's somewhat rare, like the diamond."
"My…my parents' marriage was arranged," Diandra admitted. But she'd hoped this ring might prove something different. "Is there any other possibility these stones could mean anything else?"
Compassion touched Albert's expression. "It could also symbolize an eternal love that grew from a contract." He shook his head. "Without the other half of the ring, it's impossible to tell. Unless…"
Diandra froze, obviously struggling to control the bubble of excitement. "Unless what?"
"Unless there's a clue inscribed on the band."
"An inscription? I didn't even think of that." She slipped the ring from her finger and tilted it into the light. Visibly frustrated, she couldn't make it out. "My hands are shaking so hard I can't read it."
Albert glanced at Jonas. "My eyesight isn't the best anymore. Perhaps you, Tolken?"
Intense trepidation apparent in her expression, Diandra handed Jonas the ring. "What does it say?" she asked.
Jonas took the ring from Diandra's trembling hand. He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was hoping the inscription inside the pink-diamond-and-amethyst ring would give her some clue as to the relationship her parents had shared. That it would answer one burning question: Had their marriage been one of love…or duty?
Why had it become so important to her? Why did it matter after all this time? They'd died when she was only two. From everything he'd heard, their marriage had been political, contracted in a manner similar to his and Diandra's. What difference did it make now, if the union had eventually become a love affair?
Morning light spilled in through the windows of the small mountain A-frame that belonged to the former royal jeweler, Albert. Jonas shifted his hand so the sunshine hit the ring—half ring actually. According to the retired designer the Lovers' Embrace was two rings in one that, when combined, told a story. But since they only had half of the Lovers, they only had half of the story.
As soon as the sun's rays hit the gemstones, rainbow shards of light broke from the pink diamond that was the centerpiece of this portion of the Lovers' Embrace, as well as from the two Celestia Blushes—pink amethysts—positioned on either side of the diamond. An eternal contract, they'd been told, was one possibility for what the ring symbolized. Diandra hoped it might have an alternate meaning, that it might indicate an eternal love that sprang from a contract. If that were the case, it would mean her parents' marriage had been based on love rather than a political connection.
Perhaps the inscription inside the band would give an additional clue, though he already knew it would be as ambiguous as what they'd discovered so far. "It says…'An Enduring Contract,'" he told her.
"That's it?" Diandra asked unevenly. "That's all it says?"
"I'm sorry, Princess. That's it."
"I'd hoped—" Without another word, she swept to her feet and crossed to Albert's side. She held out her hand. "Thank you so much for your assistance. I appreciate it more than you can know."
Standing, Albert took her hand and executed a graceful bow. "My pleasure, Your Highness. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."
They didn't linger after that, but headed back to Prince Brandt von Folk's palace. A few miles from the main gates, Jonas turned off on a side road. A short distance in, he pulled up to a small cottage. "What is this place?" Diandra asked.
"It's my home." Without a word, he exited the car and came around to open her door. "We need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about unless it's to tell me that our next step should be to find out more about this ring."
Jonas didn't reply until they were inside. Then he turned to confront her. "I want to know why you're so obsessed with this ring. Why this particular ring? And why now? Come on, Princess. The time has come for a little honesty. You owe me that much at least."
She closed her eyes and nodded. "You're right. The truth is, I was approached by my former governess while working in New York. Henny's writing a tell-all book about my parents. She said…" Diandra faltered for a split second. "She claimed that my parents' marriage was a political contract and that they secretly despised each other. She claimed they were on their way to get a divorce when their car crashed and they died."
"But you don't think so?"
Diandra shook her head. "Henny told me this once before, years ago. I didn't believe her then and I don't now. I need to find the other half of the Lovers' Embrace and prove her wrong. And I'll give you whatever you want, whenever you want, if you'll help me."
He decided to push. "Even this?"
Closing the distance between them, he reached for her, tugging her into his arms. He locked her against him, fitting soft to hard, round to angled, melding them together as nature intended. She stared at him with unmistakable desire, the gold in her hazel eyes eclipsing the green. It was all the permission he needed.
He took her mouth in a kiss that drew an instant response. She moaned in pleasure and he inhaled it, driven by that small, deliciously feminine sound to deepen their embrace. He guided her toward the sofa and tipped her backward. She sank into the thick cushions, her hair splayed in a halo around her flushed face. Grasping the hem of her lightweight sweater, he yanked it over her head.
"This has been coming for a long time," he said.
"Five years."
He glanced down, fighting back a groan. Her skin was as iridescent as a pearl, her breasts rising sweetly above her low-cut bra. He ran a finger along the lacy edge, fascinated by her instantaneous response. Pinching the front clasp, he bared her to his gaze.
Her hands flew to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with impressive efficiency. She shoved the material from his shoulders and he helped her rip it off. And then he lowered himself to her. Cupping her breast, he took the tip between his teeth in a gentle love bite. She arched beneath him, her cry one of intense pleasure.
He shifted lower, his mouth drifting downward across her abdomen to the top of her slacks. It took only a moment to pop the button and yank down the zipper. In one smooth move, he stripped them off her legs. She lay beneath him, only a strip of ripe-peach silk clinging to her hips.
"Not here," he managed to say. "Not for our first time."
A hint of alarm darted across her expression. "You're doing it again?" she asked in disbelief. "You're going to stop again?"
It took him a minute to understand. When he did, he feathered a kiss across her mouth. "No, Princess. I'm not going to stop. I'd just prefer a more comfortable venue."
Sweeping her into his arms, Jonas carried Diandra through the small cottage to the bedroom in the back. A huge bed dominated one end and he headed straight for it. Quickly he stripped off his remaining clothing. And then he dealt with her one last article of clothing. Hooking his thumbs in the elastic band riding her hips, he fully bared her.
She was glorious in her nudity, softly rounded, yet lean. Together, they tumbled onto the silk comforter, and with infinite tenderness he anointed her with his mouth. The warmth of desire infused her skin, and he followed it, from breast to abdomen, to the heart of her womanhood. She writhed beneath him and he caught her hips in his hands, anchoring her.
He wanted to slow down, but an insatiable hunger tore at them both. She made an incoherent demand that had him settling over her, each caress growing more passionate than the last. He lost himself in her fluid heat and silken softness. Her legs parted and he sank between them, compelled by a need too powerful to resist. He heard her frantic pleas and couldn't hold back. He drove into her, sheathing himself in her warmth. The moment he'd fully mated with her, he realized that in the five years they'd been apart, she'd never taken a lover, that she was as innocent as when she'd left him.
The knowledge nearly destroyed him. It also filled him with a determination to make this moment the most special she'd ever experienced, to give her the release she so desperately sought. He angled her hips upward, then melded his mouth with hers. And then he flew with her, sweeping her toward that ultimate completion. She went bowstring taut beneath him before exploding in his arms. Unable to hang on to his control, he spun over the edge with her.
He didn't know how much time had passed before they'd recovered sufficiently enough to speak. Rolling to one side, he tucked her close beside him.
"First thing tomorrow I'll speak to King Stefan," he informed her.
He felt her stiffen within his hold. "You'll speak to King Stefan about…what?"
"About our getting married, of course."
Diandra shot upright in bed and stared at Jonas in disbelief.
"You can't be serious," she said. Suddenly aware of her nudity, she snatched the silk comforter and wrapped it around herself.
"I'm dead serious," Jonas replied. "First thing tomorrow I intend to see King Stefan and ask for your hand in marriage."
"And first thing tomorrow I intend to see King Stefan and tell him I'm not the least bit interested in marrying you." She fled the bed, desperate to put some badly needed space between them. "What's gotten into you?"
His own nudity didn't seem to bother him as much as it did her. He stood and came after her. She shuddered at the amazing sight he made, tall and broad and powerful. "You were a virgin. Don't bother to deny it."
"I wasn't going to." She found herself retreating a step. "What difference does that make?"
"It makes every difference. Honor demands—"
Diandra held up a hand, cutting him off. She hadn't thought he could hurt her any worse than he had five years ago, but he'd managed to find a way. If she hadn't been so angry, she would have wept. Stiffening her spine, she aimed for regal iciness, which came as a challenge given her current state of undress. "That's very old school of you, Jonas. And I'm sure I should be grateful that you feel the need to protect my honor. But I'm not marrying you."
There was a knowing expression in his eyes. "Are you certain?"
She spun away from him. Why was he doing this? Why open a wound she'd thought, if not healed, at least had scarred over. There was something he could say that would change her mind and convince her to marry him. It was the same thing he could have said five years ago…and hadn't. If he took her in his arms and told her he loved her, she'd marry him that very hour.
But love wasn't in Jonas's vocabulary. Honor. Duty. Responsibility. Obligation. No question he'd learned all of those and learned them well. Everything it would seem but love.
It took her a moment to gather her self-control. The instant she had, she turned to face him. "I've fulfilled my end of our agreement," she informed him in a remote voice. "I've given you what you demanded. Now that you've received payment in full, I expect you to honor your end of the bargain."
He jerked as though she'd slapped him. "That's why you slept with me? As payment?"
She refused to lie. Not about something this important. "No. I slept with you because I wanted to. That doesn't change the fact that we made a contract and you chose the method of payment. By having sex with you—"
"Sex?" He bit out the word, bringing a blush to her cheeks. "Maybe your inexperience is showing, Princess, but that wasn't sex."
Her color deepened and she hung on to her composure by a thread. "Whatever it was, it fulfilled our contract. From now on our dealings remain on a business footing. You have a job to complete, and I'd appreciate it if we could focus on that."
He swept her a mocking bow. "As you wish, Your Highness. Do I have time to dress before we get back to work?"
"I suggest we both dress." She glanced around, only then realizing that aside from her panties decorating the floor, she didn't have a clue what had happened to the rest of her clothes. She cleared her throat. "I don't suppose you know where…?"
The question won her an actual smile. "In the great room by the couch."
With as much aplomb as she could manage, she snatched up her panties before sweeping from the bedroom. The great room, huh? She could have sworn she'd just left the "great" room.
After they'd showered and dressed, they returned to the car and Jonas headed toward Prince Brandt's palace. "We'll be leaving first thing in the morning," he informed her.
"Why?" He caught the slight hint of alarm in Diandra's voice. "What do you plan to do?"
"I plan to pay King Stefan a visit."
She swiveled in her seat to face him. "I thought we discussed that already."
"We did."
"Then—"
"I want permission to look through any jewelry your parents might have left you."
"Of course! For the other half of the ring." Excitement replaced her wariness. "I hadn't thought of that. If I'd known there might be a second half to the ring, I'd have done that before I approached you."
He spared her a swift look. "And we wouldn't have made love. You realize that, don't you?"
Her hands twisted together in a telling gesture and the ring reflected the sunlight brokenly. "Do you regret it?" She hesitated before adding, "Five years ago—"
"You were an eighteen-year-old child, and I wouldn't take advantage of you. I couldn't."
Was that the reason? The only reason? Why hadn't he told her at the time? "And now?"
He didn't hesitate. "The woman I just had in my bed was a full-grown adult, more than capable of making her own decisions."
Two days later they were settled in the Montgomery palace. Tolken had made arrangements to have the jewelry removed from the vault and delivered to the sitting room adjacent to Diandra's bedroom. In addition to the innumerable velvet boxes, there was also a catalog with a photo and detailed description of each piece.
Jonas watched as Diandra approached the table and simply stood there, looking but not touching. "When's the last time you did this?" he asked.
"Never."
The softly stated admission betrayed a vulnerability that ripped straight through him. "Why don't we go through each box, rather than rely on the catalog," he suggested gently. "That way you'll also have the opportunity to see the actual pieces."
She snatched a deep breath. "That'll take all day."
"Then it'll take all day. And all day tomorrow, if that's what's necessary."
They worked carefully, wending their way through some of the most stunning pieces either of them had ever seen. Bracelets, rings, necklaces, earrings, even tiaras, were opened and examined, before being carefully replaced. One piece in particular reduced Diandra to tears—a dainty locket with a miniature photo of her as a baby and a snippet of her baby hair. It wasn't until toward the end of the second day that she found a set of rings that were listed in the catalog as her mother's wedding set.
"I think this is it," she exclaimed, excitement turning her eyes a vivid green. She opened the box with shaking hands, then sank into her chair. "I…I don't understand."
"What's wrong, honey?"
She silently handed him the ring box. Inside rested a band studded with diamonds and Celestia Blushes. Nestled alongside the band sat a huge diamond solitaire. She stared unblinkingly at it, curling deeper into the chair.
"Diandra?"
"Why—" she licked her lips "—why would my mother have two wedding sets? It doesn't make sense. Unless…"
"Unless what?"
She gazed down at the ring on her finger, her chin wobbling. "Unless this isn't my mother's ring."
"I don't understand," Diandra repeated, staring down at the ring on her finger. She stood and distanced herself from the table. "Why would my mother have two sets of wedding rings? It doesn't make sense. Unless…" She held the hand bearing the ring in question out toward Jonas. "Unless this isn't my mother's ring. King Stefan never said so. I just made that assumption."
Jonas took his time studying the wedding set she'd handed him. They glittered coldly from the jewelry box he held. He knew the answer to her question. The issue was how much he should tell her. He flipped open the catalog and turned to the page that identified the rings they'd just discovered. Beside the description he found a photograph of Diandra's parents on their wedding day, her mother wearing the rings they'd just discovered. He stood and showed it to her.
"I'm sorry, Diandra," he said gently. "It's clear from this photo that the ring you're wearing isn't you mother's wedding ring. But that doesn't mean your parents didn't love each other, regardless of what a former governess might have to say. Keep in mind, that woman's motive is purely financial. She wants her tell-all to be profitable. Claiming your parents had a contentious relationship is more profitable than a mundane love affair."
Diandra gazed up at him with such utter faith and trust it nearly destroyed him. She had the most amazing eyes, the flecks of green and gold mesmerizing in their intensity, changing color with her every emotion. And right now they reflected a full range. Fear. Hope. Pleading. It was as though on some instinctive level she knew he could give her the information she needed.
Hope won out. "Maybe my father gave her one set when they got married and the other when they fell in love. Or maybe he gave her the extra set when I was born."
He swept a lock of hair behind her ear. Unable to help himself, his hand lingered, following the curve of her cheek. "There's another possibility that might explain the two sets."
Diandra seized the suggestion like a lifeline. "What?" She rested a hand on his forearm, though he doubted she was even aware of that fact. "Tell me."
The words were torn from him, beyond his ability to control. "I can see a man giving his contracted bride a ring. The sort of ring he's supposed to give a princess. Something dutiful. Something befitting her station. Diamonds and Celestia Blushes. A ring that epitomizes their relationship at that point." He inclined his head toward the table. "Something like what's in that box."
She cast an uncertain glance toward the official wedding set. "Go on."
His voice deepened. "And then I can see him realizing how much he loves that woman. I can see him waking up one day and discovering that what had started as a political union had become something far more. He'd want to tell her how he really feels. But how? Does he just say the words? What if he's not that sort of man? What if he's not adept with words? Maybe, just maybe, he'd find it easier to show her. So he'd give her a Lovers' Embrace, two rings that join as one, just as the two of them would join together when they married. A ring that would tell her everything he didn't dare."
She stared at him, her expression one of tearful elation. "Do you really think that might be it?" She leaned into him, so close he could catch the heady scent of her.
He closed his eyes. "As I said. It's one possibility. And that one's as good as any other." Unable to help himself, he cupped her face. "Diandra—"
"Thank you, Jonas."
She lifted onto tiptoe and kissed him. It started as a tentative brushing of lips, a brief expression of gratitude and appreciation. But the instant their mouths touched the embrace flamed from casual to desperate, spinning rapidly out of control.
How was that possible? He'd pushed his feelings for this woman aside years ago, hardening himself to her rejection. Yet, all it took were these few days in her company for the winter-cold part of him to erupt with new life. She was his other half. As much as he resisted that fact, the knowledge continued to solidify within him. She was his and he was damned if he'd let her escape again. No matter what it took, he would find a way to win her back—permanently.
Diandra could feel herself falling all over again. How was that possible? She'd pushed her feelings for this man aside years ago, hardening herself to his rejection. Yet, all it took were these few days in his company for that winter-cold part of her to erupt with new life. He was her other half. He just didn't know it. And she couldn't tell him. She'd made that decision five years ago, and nothing since had changed her mind. She would only marry for love, and Jonas didn't love her. He never had.
Reluctantly, she pulled free of his arms. "We…we shouldn't. Not anymore. We had our one night together."
A slight smile edged the mouth she longed to kiss again. "What's to stop us from having another?"
"We've been over that already. You know I won't accept a relationship based on anything other than love."
"Except for that one night we shared."
She fought to meet his gaze with some measure of equanimity. "Except for that. But I have no intention of allowing it to happen again."
"Unless I'm willing to declare my undying love. Is that it?"
"Yes." She lifted an eyebrow and forced a light note into her voice. "Are you?"
His expression closed over, making it impossible to judge his thoughts. She'd found it frustrating at eighteen, and little had changed since then. "Would you believe me if I did?"
She shook her head. "Not even a little."
"Then it would seem, Princess, we've reached an impasse."
"So we have." She turned to face the table, staring blindly at the stacks of jewelry boxes that littered the surface. "It's late. I have to get ready for King Stefan's birthday ball."
"I'll arrange to have your mother's jewelry returned to the vault."
"Thank you. Oh, wait." She hastened to the table and pulled out one of the boxes, the one that contained the locket with her baby picture and snip of hair. "I'd like to wear this tonight." She threw Jonas a glance over her shoulder. "Will you be there?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He turned to leave, then hesitated by the door. "Save me a dance. There's something I'd like to tell you."
It seemed like hours before Diandra could escape the receiving line. She'd seen Jonas earlier when he'd worked his way through the ceremonial introductions, greeting her with formal courtesy. He didn't give a hint of whatever mysterious information he wanted to relay, and curiosity consumed her. His gaze touched briefly on her mother's Lovers' Embrace and a hint of a frown touched his brow. It wasn't until afterward that she realized why. She was wearing the ring on her left hand.
He approached the minute she was free from her duties and took her hand in his, running a finger over the ring. "This may have been a mistake."
"Why?" she protested. "Maybe someone will recognize it and be able to tell me more about it."
"The ring isn't the problem. It's the finger you chose to wear it on."
Before she could reply, King Stefan's eldest son, Lander, took the dais to offer his father a birthday toast. It was a witty, affectionate speech that had the guests swinging between laughter and tears. It wasn't until he started to leave that disaster struck.
Someone approached and whispered in Lander's ear. With a broad grin, he returned to the microphone. "I understand we have more cause to celebrate. I've just been told my cousin Diandra is wearing Jonas Tolken's engagement ring." He lifted his glass. "Here's to the newly engaged couple."
Jonas swore under his breath. If he could have gotten his hands on Diandra's cousin, Prince Lander Montgomery, he'd have strangled him. He didn't know who had told His Highness that Jonas's engagement to Diandra was back on, but that error was about to create endless complications.
His "fiancée" gripped his arm. "We have to do something," she said in an urgent undertone. "We need to explain—"
"We…or me?" His mouth compressed. "I assume it's going to be me again."
"What are you talking about? What do you mean 'again'?"
He didn't spare her. "Who do you think announced our broken engagement five years ago? You left right before the ball. Someone had to tell our guests that the marriage was off."
"I assumed Lander or Merrick had…" She faltered. "You did it?"
"It was my responsibility."
"Oh, Jonas." There was no mistaking her contrition, not that it changed anything. "I'm so sorry."
He maneuvered her into a corner of the ballroom, where they'd have some privacy among the stands of potted plants. Touching her filled him with a forbidden desire, the irrepressible want mingling with a sharp pain that echoed from the distant past. The two emotions battled for dominance. More than anything he felt driven to take this woman and make her his in every possible way, to put an indelible stamp on her that would keep her in his life until the end of their days.
But he'd been burned once by her and they'd never fully addressed that. He accepted full responsibility for his part in that previous disaster. He shouldn't have pushed them into such a premature engagement. He should have given her time. But one look and he'd been lost. He'd gone directly to King Stefan and insisted their engagement, which had been arranged when they'd been little more than children, be announced as soon as possible.
The king had tried to talk him out of it, to wait a few years, but Jonas had been afraid she'd fall in love with someone else. So, foolishly, he'd rushed her, courting her at a breakneck pace. Well, he wouldn't make that mistake again. This time he'd give her the time and space she needed. This time he'd get it right.
"Take it easy, Princess," he soothed. "I'll handle everything."
"How are you going to handle it?"
"I'll explain it was a mistake, that the ring belonged to your mother and you're wearing it for sentimental reasons, to honor your parents on this special occasion." He took her hand in his and lifted it so the pink diamond and matching amethysts caught the light. "After all, it's the truth, isn't it?"
"Is it?" A hint of despair crept into her voice. "I don't know what to think anymore. Not after finding my mother's original wedding rings. I want to believe she'd had two sets—a formal one and this one. Or rather, this half of the set." She touched the ring she wore, incomplete without its mate. "A Lovers' Embrace given to her by my father as a symbol of his love. I just wish we'd found the other part of this ring so we'd have the rest of the inscription and know for sure."
Jonas thought fast. "Listen to me, Diandra. You know the one set of wedding rings we found was from when they were married—the wedding photos we saw proved that. If this Lovers' Embrace was given to her later, there could be only one reason."
Diandra gazed up at him with a brilliant smile. "Because they fell in love."
Jonas nodded. "That's right. You may never find the other half of this ring. You may never know the truth. But I'd say chances are excellent that the inscription that starts with 'An Enduring Contract,' ends with 'That Became True Love.' We know the pink diamond in this ring and the Celestia Blush amethysts symbolize a rare and permanent contract. A marriage contract. I'm betting the other half will have a Verdonia Royal amethyst."
"Symbolizing soul mates."
"Exactly. And possibly there was another pink diamond. Soul mates forever."
She continued to stare at him as though he were offering her the moon and stars combined with the sun thrown in for good measure. "They fell in love, didn't they?" she murmured. "Even if it started out as a political marriage, it ended up being true love." She closed her eyes, no doubt to stem her tears. "My old governess is wrong. Her tell-all book is a lie."
Jonas nodded. "Yes, sweetheart. It's a ridiculous fabrication created to sell more copies."
Diandra moistened her lips. "They found love, even—" She opened her eyes and they glowed a brilliant greenish-gold. "Even when it was an arranged marriage."
"Even then," he confirmed gruffly.
She leaned in ever so slightly, the scent of her washing over him and demolishing every bit of intellect he possessed. "Do you think if things had been different, that we—"
Before she could finish her question, Prince Lander approached and slapped Jonas on the shoulder before pulling Diandra into a brotherly hug. "Congratulations, you two. I can't tell you how delighted I am that you're together again."
Jonas drew back, allowing his moment with Diandra to slip away. He steeled himself for what would come next. "You were given false information, Your Highness," he said. "Diandra and I aren't engaged." He executed a sweeping bow that included both cousins. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get this straightened out before it goes any further."
And with that, he headed for the dais.
"Aw, hell," Lander muttered. "What happened this time?" He slipped an arm around Diandra. "Did you two have another fight?"
Diandra shook her head, struggling to regain her self-control sufficiently to speak. "It's all my fault," she said. "I should be the one straightening this out, not Jonas. Not after what he must have gone through last time."
"That was a rough evening," Lander agreed in clear understatement. "Jonas has always been a closed book, even with Merrick—and they're best friends. But the night you left, Jonas couldn't hide how ripped up he was."
A tear slid down Diandra's cheek. "I couldn't stay. I couldn't marry him. Not without love."
Lander stiffened. "What are you talking about?"
"My old governess came to me that night to congratulate me on my upcoming engagement and marriage." The confession escaped in a rush. "Do you remember Henny? She talked about my parents and about how contentious their relationship was. She told me they were on their way to get a divorce when they had the car accident. Henny seemed so surprised that I was willing to risk a similar marriage with Jonas when doing so had destroyed my parents."
Lander's words had Diandra flinching. "It's all a lie. Your parents loved each other." He paused. "Just as Jonas loves you."
Her heart quickened. "How do you know that?" she demanded.
"Your ring, of course."
She stared at him blankly. "What ring?" She glanced at her hand. "You mean my mother's ring?"
Lander looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "That's not your mother's ring. That's part of the set Jonas was going to give you the night of your engagement ball."
Diandra stared at her cousin in disbelief. "This ring…" She shoved the confection of Celestia Blush amethysts and the huge pink diamond under his nose. "This ring was the one Jonas was going to give me five years ago at our engagement ball? You're certain?"
"Positive," Prince Lander replied. "He practically designed it himself."
"No." She shook her head. "That's not possible."
"Honey, I thought Albert was going to have a nervous breakdown over all the changes. It had to be perfect. The best gemstones. Just the right inscription. This exact design…"
"But we went to see Albert. He said—" She struggled to recall what the retired jeweler had told her. "He said it wasn't one of his designs."
"And it wasn't. It was Jonas's."
"But Merrick claimed not to recognize the ring, either."
"Did he?"
She thought back, stunned when she recalled that he'd never said one way or another. "No, he didn't," she confessed in wonder. "I assumed the ring belonged to my mother, and Merrick never bothered to correct me."
Lander grinned. "Let me guess. If anything, he encouraged it." He shook his head. "That's my little brother. And that's why he's commander of our Royal Security Force. He knows how to get a job done."
Diandra shook her head again. "He pressed me to look into the ring's background and even had the perfect person to uncover the origins."
"Jonas."
"He told me one other thing." The memory had tears welling in her eyes. "He told me King Stefan said this ring promises to give the wearer her heart's desire."
"And hasn't it?" Lander asked gently.
Her chin wobbled. "Yes, it has." Her breath caught in panic. "Or it will unless Jonas makes it to that microphone and breaks off the engagement you just announced. I have to go."
She plunged into the crowd, intent on reaching Jonas before he ended an engagement that she wanted more than anything in her life. She could see him wending his way across the ballroom, his height and breadth making him easy to spot. The space between them seemed an impossible distance to cover in time.
Suddenly King Stefan appeared in front of her. "Problem?" he asked, a distinct twinkle in his eyes.
"The stage. I need to get to the stage before Jonas."
"Before Jonas ends your engagement again?"
She nodded. "Please, Your Majesty."
He leaned down and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "Uncle Stefan to you. King Stefan to all the others. Being king is what allows me to do this…."
Turning, he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and started across the ballroom with a purposeful stride. Instantly a path cleared before them. They reached the dais at the same moment Jonas reached for the microphone.
"Tolken," King Stefan greeted the other man. "I believe I've found something you've misplaced."
"Your Majesty." Jonas executed a swift bow. "I was just about to make a brief announcement."
"I have one to make first," Diandra said, and took the microphone before he could stop her.
The gathering fell silent at her appearance and she offered a tremulous smile. "I'd like to make a small correction to Lander's earlier announcement. Jonas and I aren't engaged." A small groan echoed through the ballroom. "Yet," she added.
"What are you doing?" Jonas demanded in an undertone.
She turned to face him, still clutching the microphone. "You see, I'm not engaged to him, because he hasn't asked me. At least…not recently." The groans turned to laughter. "And I can't accept, assuming he asks, until he gives me the other half of this ring."
She held out her hand. The pink diamond and the Celestia Blushes caught the surrounding lights and refracted into multihued sparkles of color. She lowered the microphone. "You do have the other half, don't you, Jonas?"
Without a word, he reached in his pocket and retrieved a small, square jeweler's box. "I believe this is what you're looking for."
He thumbed it open. Inside was the other half of the Lovers' Embrace she wore on her finger. It was exactly as Jonas had described it. Another pink diamond, with a quartet of brilliant purple Verdonia Royal amethysts guarding the center stone, sparkled from deep inside the box. He took her hand in his and joined the two rings, mating them on her finger. The ring clicked together, the two pink diamonds swirling together in a brilliant dance, while the Royals surrounded the Blushes.
"'An Enduring Contract…'" she began.
"'#&133;That Became True Love,'" he finished. "Pink diamonds for a rare and everlasting relationship. Celestia Blushes to symbolize a relationship that started as a contract of marriage. And Verdonia Royals that represent the love that sprang from it, a love between soul mates."
She gazed up at him, filled with hope. "Is that how you really feel?"
His look was more tender than she'd ever seen it. "I've always loved you, Diandra. This ring is my way of saying it. I love you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow. For the rest of our lives. You are my other half."
He took her in his arms and kissed her. Around them, the ballroom erupted in cheers. It was a kiss unlike any that had gone before, maybe because this time she knew it was the kiss of true love.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"
Diandra glanced over her shoulder to smile at her husband. "Only a dozen times. Not that I'm objecting."
Very gently Jonas eased the knife along the seam of her wedding dress. It was Verdonian custom to sew the bride into her gown, just as it was customary for the husband to cut her free. The beaded gown slipped from her shoulders, baring her to his gaze. The locket she wore around her neck gleamed in the subdued lighting, and she traced the swirl of gemstones that had been set into the heart-shaped gold.
"I wish…" She broke off and shook her head. "Never mind."
"Tell me, Princess. What do you wish? If it's within my power to give it to you, I will."
"I wish I could have known for sure whether my parents ever fell in love with each other. Merrick and Lander say they did. So does King Stefan."
"You're worrying about that tell-all book of Henny's again, aren't you?" He turned her to face him. "They did love each other. You need to believe that."
"But I'll never know, will I?"
"Probably not." His eyes narrowed, and his hands slid from her shoulders to cup the locket dangling from her throat. "You know, I never noticed this before."
"Noticed what?"
Without a word, he reached behind her and unfastened the clasp. Retreating to the bed, he switched on the lamp and held the locket to the light. "Come look at this, honey."
She joined him on the bed, peering over his shoulder at the locket. "They're amethysts. Blushes and Royals. So?"
"Look at the pattern."
It only took a moment for her to see it, to see the smattering of Blushes at the center, to see the Blushes darken and grow as they expanded to the outer edges of the locket, until a stunning border of Royals outlined the heart. It wasn't difficult to read the message the gemstones told. "What started as a contract," she whispered, "grew into true love."
"That's my take, as well. This locket was given to your mother at the time of your birth. You were the ultimate expression of their love."
She bowed her head. "Oh, Jonas."
"It came full circle, love. For them…and for us."
And as the night deepened, the lovers completed that circle. They were soul mates, brought together by fate and set free by love.
The End