King's Ransom Read Online Free PDF

to them, an excuse for which they had no patience and no forgiveness. They
would
keep their king safe, no matter who else had to die. Even if it meant taking the law into their own hands. Even if it meant disregarding a direct order from the very king whose word was law to them.
    Their stance on the subject had amused Andre at times, so much so he’d even discussed that contradiction in terms with his cousin Zax in one of their private meetings. But Zax hadn’t been amused, Andre remembered now. And he wondered why that memory had suddenly occurred to him tonight of all nights.
    He searched the throng of people for his cousin’s face.
Maybe Zax can help me keep my mind off Juliana.
But he couldn’t spot him in the overcrowded room. Then—despite ordering himself not to—Andre’s gaze wandered inevitably back to Juliana, still standing with her friends where he’d left her.
    He stared at her across the distance that separated them, wanting nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and carry her from the noisy, glittering crowd into the quiet sanctuary of his bedroom, the way he’d longed to do since the first moment she’d appeared at the top of the Grand Staircase tonight. Wanting nothing more than to make Juliana see what she was to him, what she had always been. Wanting to erase that hard, bitter edge he didn’t understand but that he
knew
had to be an act, revealing the genuine, loving woman he remembered.
    But she had to come to him. He could not force her. He could not make her. He had done everything humanly possible to get her this far, but that was as far as he could go. Now it was up to her. He could only do whatever lay in his power to convince her she belonged here in Zakhar. With him.
    Her career was a stumbling block. She was at the height of her beauty, the height of her talent and power. It seemed as if there was nothing she couldn’t accomplish in her career. No role she couldn’t play.
    On the other hand, there was no man in her life now, and had not been for several years. He was sure of it. But he had not relied on the tabloids for that information. She’d been under the covert protection...and surveillance...of his agents ever since he’d ascended the throne. Ever since he’d acknowledged that the unbroken line of Marianescus ruling Zakhar for over five hundred years would be broken, unless...
    The Privy Council was again pressuring him to marry and beget heirs. Delicately, to be sure, and some members more than others, but pressuring nevertheless. He’d managed to maintain his composure in the face of the subtle and not so subtle hints thrown out by the Privy Council regarding the topic of his marriage. He’d never succumbed to the intense pressure his father had placed on him—he wasn’t succumbing to the Privy Council’s pressure now.
    Since women couldn’t sit on the Zakharian throne, Andre’s heir wasn’t his sister, Mara. That was his cousin Zax, the oldest son of his deceased uncle Evander—and a year older than he was. Andre had never worried overmuch about the succession when he’d served in the Zakharian National Forces, not even when his unit was deployed to Afghanistan. He knew Zakhar would be in good hands with Zax at the helm, although it would have meant breaking the unbroken father-to-son direct line. But in the years since then, he’d recognized the supreme importance of that unbroken line—not to himself or his yet-to-be-born son, but to the people of Zakhar.
    The Zakharians firmly believed the good fortune and prosperity their country had experienced throughout the centuries was somehow tied in with the House of Marianescu and the monarchy’s father-to-son direct descent, from the first Andre Alexei to his oldest son, Raoul, right up to the present day. Superstition? No question. But the average Zakharian citizen vehemently opposed tempting fate by breaking with the