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

“Do you have classes tomorrow?” Terry asked, waiting for her to unlock the front door. As soon as it opened, she crossed to the security panel and pressed in her code while Terry closed and locked the door.

“I have one lecture, but it’s in the afternoon. I’ll be grading papers all morning and I have to prepare for finals.” With Thanksgiving just around the corner, the fall semester would tumble towards finals week before most of the students hustled off for the holidays.

“Can you do the grading from here?” Terry walked down the hall to the first floor sitting room then jogged up the stairs to the kitchen and her office. She trudged up behind him. He met her on the second floor. “All clear.”

“Thank you, Terry.” She didn’t question him. The routine was too familiar. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure.” He followed her into the kitchen. “What about tomorrow? Can you do your grading from home? If the ice storm turns vicious, it would be better if you did.”

“You’re worse than my father,” she teased and went through the motions of setting up the coffee pot. She liked her brownstone and, while she didn’t really need all the space, she enjoyed the kitchen most of all. It was huge and offered her plenty of room for cooking big meals or baking—she loved baking. Though it had been a long time since she’d hosted a dinner party of any kind, since Sebastian might call at any moment. Or, worse, the ever-present possibility she’d be paired with some poor man who thought they were on a date and then she would have to let them down easy.

Stop it.
The constant mental chasing of her metaphorical tail would drive her mad. Maybe she could host a little get together over the weeks of Christmas break. Several of her colleagues wouldn’t be traveling, so an evening with friends, perhaps some wine…

Stomach clenching, she pivoted on her heels. His back was to her, but maybe the answer she needed was right in front of her. “Terry? You’re not married, right?”

His shoulders stiffened at the question, and he spun slowly to give her a guarded look. “No, why?”

“Would you like to stay for dinner? We’ve shared dinner before, but usually you eating in one corner while I work in the other. How about I make dinner then we sit down and talk?” She was babbling. She hated to babble.

The corners of his mouth turned downward. “I’m not sure it’s the best idea, Meredith.” She thought he would say more, but he went silent instead.

“Maybe not, but we’re friends, right? Friends can have dinner.”
Please don’t make me sit in this house by myself. I don’t want to cry myself to sleep, and I desperately need the distraction.
It would sound an awful lot like begging to voice the words, so she clenched her hands, digging nails into her palms. “If you have plans, ignore me. I’ve had a bad day.”

He sighed, and shook his head slowly. “I don’t have any plans, and I would love to have dinner with you.”

“Fantastic.” Shifting her attention back to the coffee pot, she glanced at her empty counters and grimaced. Figuring out what to have for dinner might be a problem…

“Want me to call and order something?”

She glanced over her shoulder. Terry eyed the empty counters with a skeptical look. “Actually, I know I have stuff here to fix. How do you feel about Italian?” Diverting to the pantry, she pulled out spaghetti and two jars of sauce. She’d hoarded it for a cold night like this one.

“Love it. I’ll give you a hand…” He’d stripped off his suit jacket and begun rolling up his sleeves when his cell phone rang. Meredith nodded and went to get meat from the freezer. If she put it in water, it would defrost soon enough. Desperate for a distraction, she continued to pull out the pans she’d need and then went in search of the loaf of French bread she vaguely recalled buying a couple of days before.

Terry’s voice was merely a murmur in the background until she heard, “Yes, sir. I’m with her now.”

Meredith jerked around and banged her head against the door. The resounding crack actually made her see spots for a moment, and the half-formed headache of the day ballooned.

“Are you all right?” Terry lowered the phone and crossed to her as she rubbed her head.

“I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s voice echoed from the cell phone and Meredith’s heart dropped.

“Let me see,” Terry instructed before he ran his fingers over her scalp. She winced as he found the tender spot. “Go sit down, I’ll get some ice.”

“O’Connor.” Clipped demand rang in Sebastian’s tone, but it was a lower, more urgent note underneath it that compelled her.

“Don’t yell at him, Sebastian. I banged my head. Give him a moment.”

Terry pointed her toward a chair then he went to her freezer and pulled out ice. After filling a bag, he carried it over and pressed it to the side of her head before putting his phone back to his ear. “Miss Blake is fine, sir. She struck her head on the door and we’re icing it.” He went silent for a long moment and glanced down at her. She read the question in his eyes and shook her head. No, she did not want to talk to Sebastian. How many ways could she say it? “No, sir. I’m afraid I can’t.”

After another long pause, she could hear Sebastian’s accent grow more pronounced even if she couldn’t make out the content of his statements. English was a second or maybe a third language for him, and he slipped when he was well and truly angry.

“I understand, sir. But in this instance, my first and only goal is to see to Miss Blake’s safety. I cannot and will not force her.” Meredith blinked at the steel lacing Terry’s words. “You are certainly welcome to do so, sir. I can provide you with several excellent recommendations.”

No longer content to sit by while Bastian took his temper out on Terry, Meredith straightened. Her head pounded, but she didn’t know how much was due to striking it on the door or Bastian’s anger on the phone. “For what?”

“His Highness wants recommendations for personal security, Meredith. If you’ll give me a few moments, I can help you with dinner.” His expression softened, and his smile turned amused. For the barest moment, she glimpsed mischief in his normally serious eyes and Meredith’s jaw dropped.

Terry was tweaking Sebastian quite squarely on the nose.

Oh dear God.
She stood and set the ice down. “Terry…”

“It’s quite all right. I have the numbers here, Your Highness.” Amusement continued to widen his mouth, and Meredith scrubbed a palm against her face. Terry seemed to be enjoying the situation, but the plummeting sensation in her stomach worsened. Ending things with Sebastian shouldn’t include hurting him. She wanted a clean break, not a painful one.

“I’ll speak to him, Terry.” The words slipped out before she could stop them and he paused.

“A moment, Your Highness.” He depressed a button on the screen and she realized he’d muted the call. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“He’s firing you.”

“He’s entitled to do what he wants. It’s not about you, it’s about him asking me to perform tasks not outlined by my position. If you want to talk to him, I’ll hand you the phone, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced to speak to him.”

Beyond the oddness of discussing her romantic contretemps with the man, it took it too far to put him in the midst of it. “I’m sorry,” she murmured to him. “You shouldn’t have to choose a side or be put in the middle.”

“I don’t mind,” he told her with a level, serious look. “You tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

She wanted to have never felt like she and Bastian couldn’t work. She wanted for Bastian to have never been stabbed. Sometimes, she even wanted to have never met him. Unfortunately, time travel and magic were theories even mathematics couldn’t turn into reality.

Yet.

“I’ll talk to him.” She held out her hand.

He passed the phone to her and then touched gentle fingers to the lump on the side of her head. It was still tender. “Put the ice back on this. I’m going to go down and move my car to give you your privacy. Do you still want to have dinner?”

She hesitated. Her impulsive request wasn’t terrifically fair to him.

“It’s just food, Meredith.” He smiled, but the lightness in his tone did nothing to alleviate her guilt. “We can eat then I’ll make sure you’re secure before I head out.”

Grasping his gracious offer, she found the wherewithal to smile. “Thank you, Terry.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for you. Give him hell.” With those bolstering words, he descended the steps and she unmuted the phone.

“Bastian, don’t take your temper out on Terry…”

“I will do as I please with a man in my employ.”
And wasn’t that a high-handed statement
? “Why is he having dinner with you?”

“Can we not do this?” She pleaded with him.

“Meredith,” his voice gentled immediately, and he sighed. “Are you all right?”

She could lie, but she didn’t want to. Not anymore. “No, Bastian, I’m not all right. I haven’t been for a long time, and I don’t want to do
this
anymore.”

“Darling, you’re upset.”

“Yes, I’m upset. I’m unhappy and I’m tired of feeling like the dirty little secret kept in the closet. I just want it all over. I want—” Everything.
You.
But she swallowed the words and fought the tears in her eyes. “I need to not do this. Can you please understand?”

“I
don’t
understand.” He gritted his teeth, and the grinding echoed over the line. “Everything was fine and then you tell me you wish to end it. No warning, no complaints—merely over. I
need
to see you. I know we can work this out if you will simply talk to me.”

“Talking to you is the problem. We’ll end up in bed and we’ll make love and you’ll say everything the right way, but at the end of it? I’ll come back here, you’ll go back to your life and
nothing
will have changed. I don’t want to live my life on constant hold anymore. I can’t do it. Everything wasn’t fine and it hasn’t been. Let me go. Leave Terry alone. Go find some princess you can crown or some other mistress to make you happy. I don’t have it in me anymore.” Tears slid down her face and she wanted to curse. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but it hurt so damn much.

“Meredith, I don’t want any other woman. I‘ll send the plane for you. Come, meet me. We’ll talk. I promise not to make love to you until you’ve said everything you think I need to hear.” Bless him for the irritated condescension in his voice because it worked to dry up her tears.

“I can’t tell you how really generous of you the promise sounds.” She sniffed and swiped away her tears. “But I told you no. I realize it must be difficult for you, Your Highness, to be told no. You’ll forgive me for being crass, but I have tried to explain. You are refusing to understand. I will not be sent for. I will not be brought to you. The living for your beck and call part of my life is over.”

“Don’t. Hang. Up.” The order rang over the line and locked her fingers before she could depress the end call button. “Meredith, you can be angry at me. You can throw things at me, but I will not
allow
you to ignore me. Do
you
understand?”

“Allow me?” Pulling the phone away, she stared at the empty screen as if trying to read his face thousands of miles away. If it were her phone, she might very well have thrown it across the room. Putting it back to her ear, she blew out a breath and said, “I’m not one of your—” The click on the other end told her he wasn’t there anymore.

I’ll be damned.
He’d hung up on her.

After confessing his affair with Meredith to Armand, Sebastian excused himself to meet with Peterson and Vidal. Both men provided very clear visions of how they wanted the visit to Minsk to proceed. Sebastian listened and offered little in the way of changes, though he irritated Peterson by going with Vidal’s specifics over his.

Unfortunately for Peterson, Vidal’s personal efforts saved Sebastian’s life. Twice. His actions lent weight and credence to his word over any other, even if the other person was the head of Armand’s U.S. security forces. After the meeting, he walked into another with Anna and the Dagmar Foundation to go over a list of appearances they were hoping he could commit to, and a follow up meeting with the specifics of the foundation’s goals in Belaria.

Six weeks was not a tremendous amount of time to plan a visit which would hopefully achieve Armand’s agenda. The rushed nature of the planning sessions, coupled with their desire to limit the visibility of his public schedule all played an important role in the design. They didn’t want to give anyone the idea of the visit’s importance. He wished they could scrap the whole damn thing, but Armand was right. The family
needed
him to act.

By the time he returned to his suite, he was not in the best of moods. When his calls to Meredith’s cell phone continued to go to voicemail, he ordered Vidal contact O’Connor. The call had gone less than well, though he’d been profoundly grateful to hear Meredith’s voice.

The sadness in her tone cut deeper than the assassin’s blade, which nearly killed him so many months before when it nicked his ribs and punctured his lung. Rubbing a hand against his side as if to soothe tentacles of remembered pain, Sebastian paced over to the window. He needed to go to Boston. If she required groveling to let him in the door, then he’d bloody well grovel.

But they needed to talk.

Why the hell is she having dinner with O’Connor?
It made no sense. The man provided security. It was his job to oversee her general protection and to maintain a low profile, but he was there for her protection.

Furious and frustrated with the whole debacle, he was through with O’Connor stepping out of line. He’d all but sacked the man over the phone, and she’d rushed to his defense. Even her anger had been preferable to the tears shedding in her voice. He’d infuriated her on purpose, but it proved too easy. Regretting hanging up nearly as soon as he’d done it, he reached for the desk phone to order the plane.

The phone rang before he reached it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t merely ignore it. He picked it up on the second ring. “Yes?”

“Come up to the penthouse.” Armand didn’t leave him any room to refuse because it wasn’t an invitation. “We need to discuss your earlier matter.”

“Of course.” He didn’t sigh or scowl. His brother expected his cooperation, so he would acquiesce. At least when he’d explained all of it to Armand earlier, his sibling actually listened to the whole sordid story without comment. If he’d summoned Sebastian, perhaps he’d come up with something to say on the matter. “I will be right there.”

Disconnecting, he picked up his discarded jacket and checked his tie. Pausing for a moment, he adjusted the tiepin. A gift from Meredith their first Christmas, it was his favorite. Silver, it didn’t quite fit with most of his ties, but his valet always managed to find one to match it. The penthouse was one floor above and the elevator opened as soon as he stepped out of his suite. Security released the elevator to ride to the top floor.

The family owned the Petersburg Tower and no one passed the thirtieth floor without clearance from security to access the family’s private apartments. Kyle Johnson stood outside the penthouse door along with another man. Their presence warned Sebastian. Armand and Anna must be entertaining. Security did not maintain a presence on the floor when the couple was alone.

Not even if Anna began throwing things.

Johnson inclined his head and opened the door to admit him. However, not even the men at the door could have prepared him for the room full of people awaiting him. In addition to Armand and his bride, George lounged in one chair, while Alyx and her husband Daniel occupied one of the sofas. Richard took up another chair with his fiancée, Kate, perched on the arm. Stopping just inside the room, Sebastian frowned.

“Come, join us, Sebastian.” Armand rose and walked over to the bar.

“Good evening.” He paused to give Armand a bow. Straightening, he nodded to their family, but kept his gaze trained on his eldest brother.

Armand poured two tumblers and offered one to him. “I considered your tale from this afternoon at length. I’ve decided, in order to facilitate the best outcome, we should crowdsource your issue to the family.”

Everything in Sebastian went still. He’d bared his soul to Armand in confidence. “I see.”

“Do you?” His brother gave him a slow, almost lazy, smile. “I hope so. You were very helpful when I called you about Anna. One could even say too helpful. While your methods might have been questionable, your heart was in the right place.”

“Armand.” Anna rose and shook her head at her husband before coming over to give Sebastian a hug. After pulling back, she looped her arm through Sebastian’s. “Ignore him. He was right to talk to all of us. We want you to be happy.”

“Absolutely.” Alyx leaned forward. “We want to help.”

“I want to know how you kept it quiet for five years, brother.” George eyed him with a bit more respect than he usually showed. Sebastian sighed—his discretion was something George might learn from, but he didn’t know if he would advise taking such measures—except he’d had five wonderful years of Meredith to himself.

Richard grinned faintly when Sebastian’s gaze alighted on him. “I’m just here to play billiards and have a drink.”

“I’m with him.” Kate jerked her thumb at her fiancé, her solemn expression unwavering.

“Remind me not to play poker with either of you.” Sebastian tossed back his drink. No matter their reasons, they were all here. It was a show of solidarity and, while Armand definitely took the time to get his lumps in, his brother didn’t tell him to deny her or end it. “Very well. I find myself in the unenviable position of having possibly made a muck of the best relationship in my life. What do you propose I do?”

His discomfort was a negligible matter if they could help him repair the situation. No one answered immediately. Alyx shifted and he zeroed in on the uncertainty in her expression. Catching his gaze, she winced. “I’m sorry. I want to ask a question, and I’m really not certain how appropriate it is.”

“Ask.” Sebastian couldn’t possibly feel more exposed than he already did. “Considering you were all invited to assist me in this matter, I will do my best to answer honestly.”

“Why didn’t anyone know you were seeing her?”

He shrugged. “Because I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Not even your family?” The disbelief sliding under her words carried more than a hint of a rebuke.

Sebastian didn’t look away. “Particularly not my family. I will not list specifics, however I have my reasons. While I will endeavor to answer relevant questions, I request in return you respect my privacy on all else.”

“The moment the press gets wind of her…” Anna spread her hands expansively, alluding to the range of possible outcomes and the subsequent media feeding frenzy.

She would know. She’d not enjoyed a moment’s peace once the press learned of her existence and her relationship with Armand.

“Precisely what I wished to avoid for her.” Sebastian nodded to his sister-in-law. “Not to mention the security concerns.”

“So what’s the goal?” The directness of Kate’s question carried no hint of judgment. “You were in a relationship with her. She broke up with you. Do you want her back? Do you want it all to go back to the way it was? What?”

“I want to
talk
to her.” It sounded painfully simple, and yet…

“Which is difficult if she will not take your calls.” Armand caught Anna’s hand and tugged her along with him. Seating himself, he pulled her into his lap. The very familiar and intimate ease said a great deal about their relationship as well as revealing the comfort they felt in the presence of their family.

“He could simply go talk to her,” Anna argued.

Armand smiled and brushed a kiss onto the tip of her nose. “He and a dozen or so of the diligent paparazzi? I am certain the display would be quite romantic.”

“Oh.” She grimaced. “They really are annoying.”

“Yes,” Alyx agreed fervently. “Twice this week, two have followed me into the restrooms at separate events.”

The mirth in Armand’s face vanished and Daniel frowned, but it was her husband who spoke. “We’ll talk with security. It won’t happen again.” The self-made billionaire made the statement with blunt authority. He shared a brief look with Armand, who nodded. They would handle it.

“Why don’t you make a grand gesture?” George tossed out. “Take it public. It worked when you outted Anna.”

“No.” Armand echoed Sebastian’s verbal refusal then continued, “We cannot control the variable of the press.”

Returning to Kate’s original question, Sebastian blew out a breath. “I want to talk to her. I’ve offered to send the plane and bring her somewhere private where she and I could talk. I think St. Christos would be the best location. It’s private, isolated, and…”

“In another country. Nice brother, I never saw you as the type who’d kidnap his bride.” George seemed to be taking far too much amusement in the situation. Silence reigned for a few minutes, but a movement drew Sebastian’s gaze back to Alyx.

“You know if it’s merely a matter of getting her somewhere to talk to her, you could do what Daniel did.” His lack of understanding must have shown because Alyx’s smile turned sheepish. “When he approached me about working with him, I’d initially told him no, rather pointedly, and I used a taser to back me up.”

Anna and Kate both laughed, but Sebastian simply focused on his cousin and waited.

“Anyway, not to be deterred, Daniel posted an advertisement for an audition and the description fit me to a T. As it turned out, I was the only one who received the ‘call’ to audition…” She spread her hands and gave an artless shrug.

“I think it was quite clever of me.” Her husband grinned.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself. Although it was clever, you really annoyed me.” She patted his leg, but her bemused affection gave her away.

Utterly unrepentant, the man laughed. “But the plan proved effective since you showed up without your taser.”

“Armand made me come see him, too.” Anna interjected into the conversation. “A command performance because of the scholarship fund.”

“I have apologized for my high-handed manner on many occasions.” The stiffness in his brother’s voice suggested he expected to apologize for it again.

“You have,” Anna soothed him with a pat to his arm. For the first time since the ‘consultation’ began, Sebastian bit back a grin. “But my point is, Alyx is right. Sebastian wants to see her, so he may have to find a way to get her where he
can
see her.”

Their point did possess merit. However, Meredith’s refusal to speak to him put a wrinkle in it. She would simply turn down any business offers he presented via the family. She knew about Daniel, so using Spherecast as cover wasn’t an option. He’d told her about his family, including the story of how Alyx reunited with them. She knew all the major players except…

Pivoting, Sebastian studied Kate with renewed interest. Kate did not attend the higher visibility functions. Although retired from her position as one of the family’s bodyguards, Kate still did some work for Richard. She’d so far insisted the lower her profile, the better for their clients.

Kate met his scrutiny with a bland expression. “What?”

“She doesn’t know
you
.” A plan began to formulate as he turned the idea over in his mind. “You could go see her, get her to the plane and bring her to St. Christos.” The room went silent as if everyone considered his words.

“I’m sorry.” Kate blinked once. “You want me to go to—”

“Boston.”

“Right. You want me to go to Boston, put her on a plane then shanghai her into leaving the country because she doesn’t know me?”

“More or less. I know you’re talented and she wouldn’t be suspicious of you. Once she’s there, I know I can smooth this over. It’s a viable plan.” For the first time since Meredith pronounced her desire to end things, excitement thrummed in his veins.

“Actually, it’s a felony.” Richard put a hand on Kate’s leg. “Taking her out of the country compounds the issue.”

“Not if she chooses to go.” Of all people, it was Armand who answered. He wasn’t looking at Sebastian, but at Richard. “He needs her to be some place where they can truly talk. With the limited timetable, St. Christos is the best location. You said she was a professor?” He switched his attention to Sebastian.

“Yes, applied mathematics. She’s brilliant.” The description didn’t do her justice. Pride fisted in his chest. Meredith possessed the keenest mind he’d ever seen, and her gift with numbers seemed virtually miraculous.

“Wait, Meredith Blake? The author of
Applied Game Models using a Nash Equilibrium
?” Enthusiasm surged in Daniel’s tone.