A Tale of Two Cousins (A Papaioannou Novel Book 3) Read online

  “It’s a very real marriage, even if the reason for us doing it is to keep you safe at my side.”

  I stared at him in confusion, wanting to believe his beautiful words, but worried that he was trying to make me feel better simply because he was such a nice man. “But everyone else saw what I did, Dmitri. Hell, I made a big show of it. What they must think—”

  “What they think doesn’t matter,” he said, handing me a box of tissues when I started to sniff back my runny nose. He waited for me to blow it, then pulled me up against his body, his warmth and understanding making me leak hot tears all over his shoulder. Could any man be more perfect? “Only you matter, Princess. And if you don’t know that by now, then I’m going to have to redouble my efforts to make you understand just what you mean to me.”

  I stopped watering his shoulder, wiped my eyes and blew my nose again, and said somewhat stuffily, “You wouldn’t happen to be falling in love with me, too?”

  “Perhaps,” he said, smiling with a soft, warm light in his eyes that made my heart sing. “Or perhaps I’m already so head over heels in love with you that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t in my life, driving me mad with desire, and filling my life with happiness, and making me want to shake you with irritation.”

  I laughed at that. “You’re the only man who can make being irritated at me sound like a compliment.”

  “It is, my adorable one. I know it’s just your way of keeping me on my toes, and I’m grateful to know that with you doing so, my life will never be boring. Now, shall we return to bed and give that massage oil another try?”

  “All right,” I said, letting him lead me back into the bedroom. “But if I don’t drive you crazy in five minutes flat, then I’m going to know you’re secretly angry with me.”

  He lasted all of three minutes.

  “Cove is back today,” Dmitri said the following morning. We were in the kitchen, my body humming with the aftereffects of the method in which he’d woken me up. At my feet, Valentino graciously accepted a plate of food, while, sitting across the island, Alexis scarfed down enough food for three grown men. I caught Dmitri watching him with a fascinated sort of horror, which made me giggle to myself and make a mental promise that just as soon as I could arrange for my laptop to be sent to me, I’d study some videos on how to cook. Dmitri wasn’t skinny by any sense of the word, but he was a bit too thin for my liking. What he needed was home-cooked meals, and although I hadn’t ever had success at that endeavor in the past, now I had good motivation to learn.

  “Who’s Cove?” I asked, realizing my mental musings had almost caused me to miss what he had said.

  “My driver. He’ll be available to take you anywhere you like after he drops Alexis and me at the office.”

  “You have a driver?” It didn’t strike me as odd that Iakovos should have a driver, but I’d never imagined Dmitri had one, too. It made him seem once again out of my class.

  “I do. He’s been on vacation the last two weeks, but he’s back, and I’ve told him to make himself useful to you, should you need a ride somewhere. Ah. And speaking of that, Alexis has something for you.”

  “Thankfully, yes.” Alexis stopped shoveling in a mountain of eggs and potatoes that he’d placed on top of a piece of toast and, wiping his hands, bent down to hand me a battered green canvas bag. “It is with much gratitude and no little sense of relief that I officially pass to you the ceremonial messenger bag used through the ages by personal assistants of Dmitri Papaioannou. Use it with my blessings, and in good health.”

  He made a dramatic bow that had me laughing. “I take it you’ve been promoted?” I asked, knowing full well that Dmitri had intended on doing just that. I felt a moment of pride that he truly intended on me being his assistant. I’d never had such an exciting job, and I very much looked forward to helping him with his work.

  “I have. As of this morning, I am officially an associate broker in Papaioannou Green.”

  “And to fill your new ceremonial messenger bag—really, Alexis, you couldn’t have found something a bit nicer for her?—I have your official phone,” Dmitri added, handing me a cell phone.

  “I like this bag,” I said, pulling it close to me. “It looks like it’s been through a war or two.”

  “I found it at a military-memorabilia shop,” Alexis told me with a wink. “So it has.”

  “This is a nice phone,” I murmured, quickly flipping through screens. “Latest version of Android, nice amount of memory, and the fastest network. Is it a hot spot, too?” I asked Dmitri.

  “I believe so. It has access to an unlimited data plan, so you can do what you like with it.”

  I glanced at him. “For work,” I pointed out.

  He nodded. “For work. Speaking of that, do you have your list of employment demands?”

  “They aren’t demands as much as just sensible ground rules.”

  Dmitri gave me a jaded look. I giggled in return, and added, “No, but I’ll call—or text—Panoush today and have him send that over, along with the prenuptial stuff that he said he’d have by now.”

  “Good.” Dmitri looked at his phone, quickly swiping through a few messages just as Alexis was doing the same thing.

  I eyed my new phone, feeling very professional. “When do I start?”

  “The job?” Dmitri considered the question. “I thought next week, if you are willing. That gives us this week to get married and for you to get settled here, as well as get your things brought over from England. Assuming you want them.”

  “Oh, yes, please. I’m tired of living in the same four outfits.”

  He nodded. “If you prefer to stay here, I can have your things packed and shipped out to you.”

  “I should let my roommates know that my room will be available, but since I’m paid up through the end of the month, I don’t think they’ll kick up too big of a fuss,” I mused. “So long as you bill me for the cost of bringing my things out, I would be grateful not to have to go back to London.”

  “I’ll mark it down under moving expenses,” he said, flashing his almost dimples at me. “Were you planning to see Harry today?”

  “I thought I would. She asked me to stop by because she says it’s boring having to sit around so much without her kids to entertain her, but if you needed me—”

  “Every second of every hour of every day,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose, which just made me want to melt into a big puddle of goo. “But I’m willing to lend you to Harry so you can keep her spirits up. And you may get to meet Theo and Kiera if they get in today as Jake said they planned. You ready?”

  The last question was aimed at Alexis, who nodded, shoved several orange slices into his mouth, then waved at me as he hurried off to get his jacket and laptop bag.

  Dmitri kissed me, his lips warm and sweet and infinitely wonderful. He brushed a strand of hair off my cheek. “Call me if you need me, Princess. Cove should be back in half an hour. His number is in your phone already. Just let him know when you want him, and he’ll be at the front entrance.”

  “Thank you,” I told him, nibbling on his earlobe. “For everything, but most especially for being the sexiest almost-list-making Greek bachelor.”

  “Only for one more day,” he said, pinching my behind. Then he was gone, leaving me sighing with happiness.

  An hour later, I emerged from the apartment building, and smiled at the man who leaned against a familiar dark blue car. “Hi, you must be Cove.”

  “That I am. And you’re a real princess!” The man who greeted me had a wild mop of curls, dark skin that hinted of African ancestry, and small gold barbells pierced through both eyebrows. The hand that he held out to shake was covered in tattoos, and he had a wiry physique that reminded me of my brother. He also had what I thought of as a California surfer accent, his words coming out a little slow, like there was no need to hurry. I liked him instantly. “I almost dropped my dentures when Dmitri told me he was marrying royalty. Not that the Papaioannous aren�
�t almost tantamount to that here, but still, you’re, like, really a princess. Dude!”

  “I might be, but I prefer to be called Thyra—” I paused when a man who was passing stopped and stared at me. Immediately uncomfortable, I got into the front seat, glancing over my shoulder when Cove started up the car and pulled out into traffic.

  “So, where to?” he asked.

  The man stood on the sidewalk, holding up a phone like he was taking a picture of us. He couldn’t be a paparazzo, because he’d have a proper camera. Which meant ... “Kardom,” I said, a cold hand gripping my innards at the thought of him.

  “Where’s that? I’ve been driving Dmitri around for two years now, but I don’t think I know of it. Is it a town up the coast?”

  “No, Kardom is a who, not a what. He’s my cousin.”

  “Oh, is he the dude who roofied you and tried to do the legal with you?” Cove shook his head. “Bad juju, that. Seriously bad juju.”

  “Amen to that. Er ...” I thought for a minute about where I was going. “I have to go to the post office. One of my roomies sent me a present for Dmitri. My wedding present to him, that is.”

  “What’s that, or can’t you tell me?” Cove asked.

  I shook away the worry that Kardom had tracked me down. I knew Dmitri had talked to the concierge, and there was no way Kardom would be allowed up to the penthouse. “I don’t mind telling you, so long as you don’t let Dmitri know. I found out yesterday that he’s as big a gamer as I am, and he loves an RPG series that I play. It so happens that one of my roommates works on his favorite game, and she offered to send me an alpha copy of it. I know Dmitri will be beside himself to play it before everyone else can.”

  “Sounds like a righteous choice, Your Highness.”

  “Thyra, please,” I said, laughing at his surfer intonation. I half expected him to call me “brah” at any minute, but to my surprise, he was quite knowledgeable about Athens and Greece, and he pointed out various favorite cafés and shops as we went to the post office so I could pick up the package I’d had my roomie send me.

  On the way to Harry’s apartment, I texted Dmitri.

  TO: DMITRI

  A man outside the apartment stopped and stared at me, and I think took a picture of your car.

  A few minutes later, the response came.

  FROM: DMITRI

  Well, if I didn’t know you and I saw you, I’d take a picture, too.

  TO: DMITRI

  I just bet you it’s Kardom.

  FROM: DMITRI

  Doubtful. Information I have says he flew to Rome yesterday.

  TO: DMITRI

  Information? What information? Why would he go to Rome? Dammit, I’m going to have to call Maggie, and I’ve been trying to avoid doing that because the things I have to say to her aren’t nice.

  FROM: DMITRI

  You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, although if you have news of your cousin Kardom, please let me know.

  “He’s entirely too unconcerned,” I said aloud after reading his last text.

  “Dmitri? Dude’s chill,” Cove said, nodding.

  “He’s just a little too chill about this, when he should be concerned. That tells me he’s done something to keep tabs on Kardom, like having people watch him. Dammit, that costs money.” I bit my lower lip, wondering if I should raise a fuss about it, but knowing I wouldn’t.

  I would, however, have to confront Maggie. “Would you mind parking for a few minutes at the National Garden?” I asked Cove. “I need to make a phone call, and it’s not going to be pleasant.”

  “Sure thing,” he answered, and a few minutes later, he dropped me off at the entrance, promising to pick me up in ten minutes. I claimed one of the scattered benches and, after a moment of steeling my nerves, dialed Maggie’s number.

  “Who is this?” her voice answered.

  “Your cousin. The one you helped drug and kidnap.”

  “You have a lot of nerve calling me. I assume it’s to apologize?”

  A stab of pain went through me at the coldness in her voice.

  “What on earth do I have to apologize for?” I asked, annoyed despite the pain. “I’m the victim here, Maggie.”

  She snorted in disgust. “Oh, right, you’re always the victim. Poor little Thyra who got all the breaks. How about thinking about someone other than yourself for a change?”

  I stared at the pavement beneath my feet, my mind whirling as it tried to cope with the words coming out of her mouth. Maggie, my friend and cousin, whom I had trusted. “Why did you do it, Mags? Did Kardom offer to pay you? Was it revenge, or just the money?”

  “Money is never just anything. Not when you don’t have it. But then, you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “You know full well that I’m flat broke.”

  “I know nothing of the kind. You know what Kardom told me? He said that you and Chris have oodles of money, only you want everyone to think you’re dirt poor. I trusted you, Thyra, and believed you, and then I found out the truth about you.”

  “The only reason that Chris is slightly less broke than me is because he has a good job,” I argued.

  “Whatever, Thyra. I know the truth now. And I can’t believe that I fell for your sob story for so many years.”

  “Kardom really told you a tale, huh?” Anger filled me now, not anger that he could be so devious, but that my own cousin would believe him over me. “I hope someday you realize how manipulative he is. Until that time, I think it’s better if we don’t see each other.”

  “Oh, you’re going to see me. You owe me too much,” she said, her voice as hard as nails.

  I was gripped with an alienating sense that I was talking to a stranger. Maggie couldn’t say such things to me, could she? Not the cousin I’d grown up with my whole life. “What, exactly, do I owe you?”

  “Compensation,” she snapped; then before I could say more, she hung up on me. I thought of calling her back but didn’t think there was any use in doing so. I’d just end up arguing with her, and she clearly was not in the mood to believe anything I said.

  I sighed to myself and tucked the phone away in my bag, then got to my feet and started toward the parking area where Cove was due to pick me up. A flash of sunlight on metal caught my eye, causing me to turn to the left.

  A man on a motorcycle held a camera up, aimed in my direction. A woman emerged from a car beyond him, also holding a camera, but she called out to me. “Princess Juliane! Rumor has it that your cousin has come to an agreement with the Beck government to be recognized as crown prince. What’s Dmitri think of that? Is he going to bankroll your run at the title? Where’s Prince Christian? Is he coming out for your wedding?”

  “Dammit,” I snarled, and ran out to the street, praying I could get to Cove before the paparazzi did.

  I didn’t, but by the time I flung myself in next to Cove, he had seen the two people.

  I slammed the car door behind me, locking it and slumping down in the seat, thanking Dmitri for the foresight in having a car with tinted windows.

  “Looks like someone spotted you. Should I lose them, or don’t you care?” Cove asked, watching in his side mirror as the man tried to pull alongside us. Luckily, oncoming traffic limited that ability.

  “Lose him, please. So very much lose him.”

  It took fifteen minutes, but he did the job. I slumped back with Valentino, my hand absently stroking him, my heart sick.

  Had Beck really made a deal with Kardom? And more important, how on earth was I going to convince them that he was all wrong for them, and that they needed to give me a chance?

  THIRTEEN

  A half hour after my unsettling call to Maggie, I sat in the lobby of Harry and Iakovos’s building and held my phone, trying to psych myself up for the second unpleasant call of the day.

  “It’s not easy,” I told Valentino where he sat on a plush white leather bench next to me. I ignored the concierge,
a woman I’d seen before, and who knew I was allowed up to the penthouse. “But after what the paparazzi said ... well, I think I have to do it. OK. Here goes. Wish me buckets and buckets of luck.”

  Valentino put a paw on my leg that I interpreted as his good wishes ... until he used that to leverage his body into a personal-parts grooming pretzel.

  “Ja?” a man answered in German.

  “Hello,” I said slowly in English, in case he wasn’t well versed in that language. As one of the two undecided ministers, he was a stranger to me, but I’d decided that I had to do something to try to sway him over onto my side. “I am Juliane of Beck. Is this Minister Hans Sauber?”

  “Ah, Princess Juliane, yes, it is I.” The man’s voice had an unreadable note to it that I desperately wished I could interpret. “What may I help you with?”

  “I wanted to know if any further progress has been made with regards to the proposal I made to represent Beck. As you know, I am a direct descendant of the last crown prince, and although my brother, Christian, technically holds that title now, he is willing to cede it to me.”

  “My dear Princess Juliane, surely you cannot be under any delusion that Beck would be interested in being represented by a woman of no means, with no way to support herself, and a dubious claim on the illustrious title of crown princess,” Hans interrupted, his voice now clipped, each word being uttered as if it were made of hard edges.

  “Dubious claim?” I asked, outraged, lowering the volume of my voice when the concierge glanced over at me. I half turned on the bench, my back to the window in case any paparazzi were outside it. “What do you mean dubious claim? My great-grandfather was the last ruler of Sonderburg-Beck—”

  “So you say, but we have yet to see any proof other than a family tree that, quite honestly, anyone could modify and print.”

  I stared in horror at the wall, trying to understand what the man was saying. “There’s been some mistake, then, Minister, because I submitted full documentation as to my identity almost six months ago, including certified birth, marriage, and death certificates for not only myself but the last three generations of my ancestors. Ms. Martin has it all. She said she submitted it to the council.”