Unfaded Glory by Sara Arden Page B

felt stronger, more confident just knowing he was near, but she’d never make the mistake of telling him that.
    Damara decided that she found this seat next to him much more comfortable than the other one she’d chosen and she stayed there, close to him in the cocoon of quiet acceptance they’d wrought until they landed at Kansas City International.
    She wasn’t naive enough to think that all his rage and resentment would go away, but for now, in this moment, there was acceptance and peace. Damara had learned that it was those moments she had to choose to live in, whatever happened.
    As soon as they walked up the jet bridge, they were met by a woman dressed sharply in white. “I’m Sonja White, and I’m your PR liaison. There is a starving pack of paparazzi waiting to meet you. For now, you are to say you have no comment, but they will be invited to a press junket in Glory. Got it?” She flashed Damara a smile.
    Damara decided the woman had too many teeth, like a piranha. That smile wasn’t honest and, as her father would say, it wasn’t going to launch any ships. Something about her put Damara off, but she nodded.
    She knew what she was doing with the press. She’d trained for this all her life.
    Sonja wasn’t kidding. They were mobbed by cameras and lights, microphones shoved in their faces. When a cameraman got a little too close, Byron immediately placed himself between her and the man, the intent to do violence written plainly on his face.
    Sonja had already lost control of the group.
    Damara flashed her best princess smile. She crept out from behind Byron and put a hand on his chest to stay him, and he eased back.
    So did the crowd, but she asked for more. “Space please, ladies and gentlemen.”
    They responded to her calm, cool manner, and she fixed each person on the front lines of the mob with her best princess smile.
    When they’d all moved to a distance she was comfortable with, she spoke again. “I’m Princess Damara Petrakis of Castallegna. I know you all have questions, but we’ve been through quite an ordeal in the past few days. Of which I’d be happy to tell you all about at the press junket in Glory, Kansas. You can get details from our PR liaison, Sonja White.”
    â€œIs it true you’re fleeing an arranged marriage to a Russian gangster?” a voice asked.
    â€œPlease, as I said, we’ll take all of your questions after we’ve had a chance to rest.” She leaned back against Byron, and his arms came around her so easily, so naturally, she’d swear it was a habit born of years rather than hours.
    They cut a path through the crowd, leaving Sonja to deal with the mess.
    â€œYou handled that very well,” he told her.
    Damara was getting to where she liked praise from him better than chocolate. That simply wasn’t to be tolerated because she knew it wouldn’t last. This arrangement wasn’t permanent, and she had a feeling that before all of this was over, he’d hate her.
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œThere’s our car.” He pointed at a black car.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œGovernment plates.” He indicated the tags on the back.
    The door opened for them, and Byron made sure she was secured before he got into the car. Just like her other bodyguards.
    Exhaustion and relief swept over her. She hadn’t realized how tired she was, or that she’d been figuratively holding her breath, until the car was in motion. She sagged against him.
    â€œI wasn’t kidding when I said we’d been through a lot in the past few days. I think every bone in my body hurts. Even my face.”
    â€œIt’s about an hour to reach Glory. Then you can sleep for as long you want, Princess. But let me warn you, it’s nothing like Barcelona. There won’t be any room service.”
    â€œI don’t even care. The first thing I want to do is eat your McDonald’s.