Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4) (12 page)

“Be safe. We’re going to handle this. You take care of your lady. I would very much like to meet her.”

If only wishing made it so.
“Take care of Anna and Alyx. How many papers have the pregnancy?”

“Only the online gossip columns, but it won’t be long now.” So, the ticking clock on the world’s speculation had run out, and they were not fully prepared. The paparazzi were only a piece of the puzzle and more nuisance than anything. When Belaria learned, the royalists would take it to heart. Therein lay the real problem.

“And George?”

“We’ve already made arrangements and set up a new name for him. He will not enjoy being out of the limelight, but we’ve impressed it upon him. Mother was entertaining our cousins, and they are all going to take a very long trip to the country house.” Armand didn’t have to say the very private and secure country house, since Sebastian understood the decision.

“Is that wise?” Sebastian frowned.

“I do not think they are targets. It’s the family name they want to wipe out, which means they’ll likely focus on the three of us and Anna.”

“And Meredith…”

“Yes.” Armand agreed, and they were both silent for a long moment. “Sebastian, did you truly think I would order you not to see her?”

“Brother, you were very unhappy for a long time. You saw only political ramifications and the potential fallout. Also, you did not trust women.” Sebastian hadn’t enjoyed his brother’s estrangement from Anna. He’d been a miserable bastard.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Armand’s admission didn’t make Sebastian feel better. “For what it’s worth, I advise caution. If she cannot—”

“I know.” He didn’t want to discuss what it would mean if Meredith rejected his life. It would break him. “Keep me informed, and do not cancel the Belaria trip. Now, more than ever, we need to show them they cannot hunt us to extinction. If we run, brother, we will never stop.”

He was damn tired of running. They spoke for a few minutes more. Sebastian drank a cup of the coffee and picked at one of the sandwiches. Once they’d disconnected, he took the time to check on O’Connor’s condition. He’d promised her he would, after all.

Leaving his office, he said nothing to Vidal and the nurse excused herself the moment he stepped into his suite. Meredith sat on the bed, a blanket draped over her legs. She’d showered and changed into one of his shirts.

When the others left, he crossed the room and studied her. Some of her color returned, thanks to the shower he supposed, and she didn’t look quite so rocky, but he wanted to be sure. “How are you?”

“You were right about the shock. The doctor gave me something to calm my nerves.” Her smile was wan, and she fisted the blanket. “I ate some of the soup, but they brought more food. A proper meal because I wanted to eat with you.”

He nodded slowly. “Good. Are you up to talking or would you prefer to eat and sleep?”

She gave him a long, uncertain look and bit her lower lip. “You’re angry with me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Extremely,” he admitted. “But it can wait. You need to rest.” Her health came before all else.

“We need to talk,” she admitted.

He took the invitation at her word and nodded. “There are three things you need to know. The first is I have had no lover other than you since we met.” Even knowing what she thought, the surprise in her eyes hurt, but he stayed his course. “Secondly, the only reason I never told my family about you was because I did not want Armand to order me to end the relationship. Had he done so, I would have been forced to choose between my duty and my love. My family needed me then and they need me now. I did not want to have to abandon them.”

Her eyes filled with tears. While he wished desperately to comfort her, some truths were better harsh.

“Lastly, at no point have I ever considered you my mistress. If anything, you were my lady. One I waited to claim so you could have the life and the future you craved. The life I could not give you. The life I believed, until a few hours ago, you chose for yourself.” He exhaled slowly and remained standing, his gaze fixed on her though he longed with every molecule to join her on the bed. He longed to reassure himself in every way how very alive and vital she remained.

But sex, it seemed, complicated their comprehension of each other. He could not let it cloud their judgment or their understanding, not this time.

“I—my future?” She sat forward, her frown intense. “I don’t understand. What future did you think I craved that you couldn’t give me?”

There was the crux of it—Meredith didn’t understand. “Meredith Blake is a doctor of mathematics, a skilled lecturer, and a highly in demand theorist. She’s respected in her field and one of the youngest professors to receive tenure. She is amazingly gifted, deeply respected, and—” He recalled Daniel’s reaction to her. “—highly prized for her abilities and work. She is, in all things, at the top of her field with a very vibrant future. Did you not say you have received multiple offers? You’ve published four times in five years, and your work is invaluable. You have provided insights, which have made or broken projects. All of those things were possible because you were not Meredith Dagmar, princess and wife of the second Andraste son. As my wife, you would have led an altogether different life, one you suffered a taste of today.”

Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a noisy breath. Sebastian barely smiled because it seemed unlikely she could have manufactured her response, yet…how could she not have realized?

“I had no idea.”

“Didn’t you?” He canted his head. “You said I kept you a dirty little secret, that you were my mistress. You reconciled yourself to your position in my life.” Damn if her words still didn’t cut him. “Although at all times you held the power to change it and chose not to.”

Anger sparked in her eyes. “How the hell did I have the power when I didn’t even know you wanted to marry me?”

“One phone call, Meredith. One call to the press telling them who you were and what we shared…”

“Then they would have been all over me. You warned me during our first weekend together. You told me to only show what we wanted them to see—” She stopped, and her lower lip trembled.

“Exactly.” This time he did smile, but it held no happiness for him. “As long as you wished for the life you wanted, I wished for you to have it. I wanted you safe. I wanted you to be able to chase your dreams and did not leash you permanently to my side without hope of privacy. When you stayed quiet, when you chose to keep us a secret, I knew it was what you wanted, too.”

“I—” She began then paused. An intense struggle played across her face, and she shuddered. “I thought—I thought we were having fun and fun was what you wanted from me. I loved—”

His heart jerked at her hesitation. “What?” he demanded. “What did you love?”

Soulful brown eyes locked on his. “I loved being with you and, even if all I could have was a piece of your life, I wanted that piece.”

“Until you didn’t anymore…” He finally gave into the urge to be closer to her. Her shoulders jerked as his words found their mark. “Until, for some reason, out of all the many lovers you believed I dallied with, the last unremarkably ridiculous story of my supposed engagement tipped the scale. Why then? What changed?”

When she didn’t answer immediately, the seeds planted over the last few days—based on O’Connor’s outright refusal of orders to his belligerence to the open affection between the two—blossomed into cold certainty.

“Or should I ask
who
changed your mind?”

She didn’t answer directly, only frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Needing to touch her, he stroked a finger down her cheek. Would he be able to forgive her if she admitted his suspicions were correct? Would it break him if she did? “O’Connor,” he supplied. “Is he your lover?”

An academic, raised by academics, Meredith rarely lost her temper. In fact, her parents’ one steadfast rule throughout her childhood involved never discussing or debating in anger. If she couldn’t be reasonable and rational, then she wasn’t welcome at the table. The lesson served her well, until Bastian asked her about Terry. “He’s my
friend
Sebastian. Don’t make our argument about Terry.”

He curved his fingers against her cheek and ran his knuckles up the line of her jaw. “I’m not making it about him. However, your concern and affection coupled with his actions and attitude…they leave the situation open to interpretation.”

Pulling away, Meredith tried to wrestle the flames engulfing her thoughts. “My
concern
and affection, as you call it, are for my
friend
. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’ve known Terry nearly as long as I’ve known you. You hired him six months after we started seeing each other.” Despite the shot the doctor gave her earlier, her heart began to pick up from a dull thud to a plodding canter. Scrubbing her hands against her face, she stared up at him. “You did not just say you wanted to marry me buried in a qualified argument regarding my future then ask me if I was sleeping with another man?”

Sliding his hands back into his pockets, he regarded her with a brooding look. “A question you haven’t answered directly, and you’re not one to play games, so why are you avoiding it?”

Shoving off the bed, she ignored the sway of the boat even as it made her stomach a bit queasy. Sebastian’s gaze scorched her as he looked her over from head to toe. His shirt struck her mid-thigh and she’d chosen it—a choice she now questioned—because of all the clothes in his stateroom closet, it held onto some of his scent.

“You shouldn’t be up.”

“Oh, stuff it, Your Highness.” She scowled and stomped over to the table. And yes, she was stomping.
Marriage.
At no point in five years had he ever brought up marriage. Him throwing it into the middle of the argument knocked her sideways. Then, to add upheaval to topsy-turvy, he wanted to know if she was sleeping with Terry.

“Excuse me?” He was right behind her when she made it to the side table where a porter delivered the trays with soups and sandwiches earlier. Ignoring him she plucked up silver lids to find a selection of fruits and cheeses. She slammed them back down with a somewhat temper appeasing clang.

“You heard me.” She bumped into him as the boat did another little roll over some wave. He put his hands on her hips to steady her. Shaking him off, she jerked up the next domed lid only to find tiny crescent cut sandwiches. Clanking it down, she looked under the third. “For the love of God, do your people not ever serve chocolate? I need liquor or chocolate for this discussion. Since I can’t drink thanks to the shot, I want chocolate.” Whirling she faced him and, had her mood been less dark, the utter surprise in his expression might have been comical. “No, I’ve never slept with Terry. I’ve never even considered it. Yes, I’ve slept with him in my house on more than one occasion. He’s held my hand during take offs and landings for the last seventeen trips because planes scare the crap out of me. If you understand the math of velocity, they’d scare the crap out of you, too. He was there when I got the news about your stabbing, and he held me while I cried. He’s the only person I know who knows who you are and what you mean to me. He also held his ground and tried to protect me when
I
decided I couldn’t do this anymore.”

She took a step toward him and planted a finger in the middle of Sebastian’s chest. “It bothers you he’s
friendly
with me and he
oversteps
? Guess what? I have to stare at buxom models, practically spilling out of their clothes, hanging all over you, all the time.” She punctuated each word with a thrust of her finger against his chest. “So suck it up and get me some chocolate.”

It nearly ruined her demand when she weaved her way back to the bed, but she sat with a thump and folded her arms. Sebastian eyed her a long moment before saying in a soft voice edged by concern. “You’re afraid of flying?”

Really?
She stared at him. That was his takeaway? No, she wouldn’t answer him. Not while her emotions staged a prison break and rioted through her system. The physician gave her a sedative because she’d experienced a rather rude anxiety attack thirty seconds after Sebastian left the room. Terror from the whole day swamped her. Sebastian lived in a fortress barricaded by armed guards. She’d always known about the potential danger, because his security was rather impossible to miss, but she hadn’t understood the ramifications, not truly, until today.

A moment later, she heard him pick up the phone and say, “We need chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate is fine, but…No, just bring all of it. Thank you.” He hung up and a couple seconds passed before the bed dipped with his weight. His arm came around her. She stiffened, but he didn’t pull her to him so much as drop his chin onto her shoulder and hold her.

Only the hushed sound of his breathing filled the quiet. She could feel the steady thump of his heart where his chest pressed against her back. The rigidity in her spine began to ease because of his nearness. Being surrounded in the rich masculine scent of him further calmed her, but beneath the smell of him, she could detect the barest hint of cordite—gunpowder. He didn’t have the time to shower or do much of anything since the island attack, too occupied trying to look after her and Terry.