The Royal Elite: Mattias (24 page)

Paused, she shifted her chin toward her arm, but her eyes didn't lift to his. She seemed to be watching the place his fingers touched her skin. Then, after a full thirty seconds, she met his gaze.

“I can't knowingly pursue any relationship, no matter where it leads, when so many secrets lie between us. I can't worry every time you're late for a date, or I don't hear from you for days upon days. Don't you see what kind of torture that would be for me? I'm sorry. I actually thought that if I told you how I felt, that you might change your mind.” Gently, she eased her elbow from his hand and continued to the doors.

Mattias released her, exhaling a short sound of frustration. It wasn't her fault, and he couldn't blame her for not wanting to start seeing a man who refused to tell her where he was going, or if he might or might not be returning. She deserved better, he told himself, than a man who only gave her pieces instead of the whole.

Standing where she left him, he raked a hand through his hair, sending the combed strands slightly askew. Unable to keep his eyes off her, he tracked her to the doorway, where interior light outlined her delicate body and the snug fit of her gown. When she paused, his gaze skipped to her face.

“Give me a last dance to remember you by.” She extended a gloved hand in invitation.

Alannah accepted Mattias into her personal space with the idea that this would be their last interaction. It bothered her to the point her mood descended into a maudlin pique, one she didn't try to alter while she settled one hand on his shoulder and let him clasp the other in his palm. The heat of his skin penetrated the thin material of the glove, warming her hand. And though she knew he was staring down at her face, she refused to look anywhere but at his throat.

Being this close to Mattias brought to mind the memories they'd made between them. Their first 'meeting' on the balcony at House Morano, the chess game in the garden, the viewing of the artifacts. He'd been so amenable that evening, though she supposed he had to be considering it was his 'job'.

Following his lead, she stepped and turned, matching his languid pace. There was no hurry in this dance, and for that she was grateful. Under her fingers, she felt the muscles of his shoulders flex and shift every time they spun a slow circle. Once, she even thought he squeezed her hand and moved her an inch closer with the arm clamped gentlemanly around her waist.

“It's not a waste of time getting to know me better. What if you decide I'm worth it after you do? Perhaps knowing everything about my life won't seem as critical as it does right now,” he said, voice low and soft.

“Shh.” Alannah didn't want to talk about what-ifs. She knew her mind, her heart, and knew that she wouldn't—couldn't—ever be happy being in the dark half the time.

Just before the song came to its natural end, Alannah chose a moment during another lazy turn to disengage from Mattias's arms. She did so in time to the steps, swirling away from his body. With his scent lingering on her gloves and in her senses, she departed the dance floor and headed for the foyer doors. From there she sought the stairs leading to her rooms, never once looking back.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor with couples moving around him, Mattias watched Alannah retreat from the hall. The pleasant music filling the room clashed with the volatility he was feeling, as did the serene décor and little lights strung high along the walls and around white columns spaced every eight feet or so. Magical things might have happened in that hall,
were
happening to a few other people caught up in each other's chemistry. Couples forged good memories here, ones that lasted a lifetime.

The only memory he would take away from Battersby Hall was watching Alannah walk away from him for the last time. He supposed he deserved it, what with his lifestyle and unwillingness to bend. There could be no other way than this, however. Working with the Elite was too important, too much a part of who he was at the core. That Alannah lived and breathed was a testament to this sacrifice.

Cutting his evening short, Mattias departed the dance floor and, with his security team trailing, made his way to his suite. Once the doors closed behind him, he peeled out of his jacket and yanked at the tie. Throwing open a few buttons at the top of his shirt, he walked to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. Before doing anything else, he tossed back a shot, and then another. Just as he poured himself a third, his phone beeped, indicating he had a message. Fishing the cell out of his coat pocket, he thumbed through the screen to see the text. It was from his brother, Sander.

Did you connect with Miss Astbury?

Mattias frowned. How did Sander even know Alannah was here? On the heels of that thought came suspicion. Uncaring about the time difference, he dialed his brother's number, waiting impatiently while the phone rang.

“Do you know what time it is?” Sander said when he answered.

“How, exactly, did you know she would be here?” Mattias cut to the chase, foregoing greetings and salutations. Sander was up to something. The sound of rustling, Sander shifting in bed or on a couch, preceded his answer.

“Lucky guess.”

“My ass. Did you set this up, brother?”

“Never. I would never do a thing like that.”

“Sander Darrion, you and I are going to have a talk when I return.” Mattias knew from Sander's inflection that he had
everything
to do with Alannah's appearance here. He could just imagine Leander spilling the entire story, and Sander making calls and whatnot behind Mattias's back.

“Which means we're going to brawl. Fantastic. We haven't done so in a while,” Sander replied, clearly looking forward to the event. “You didn't answer my question, though. Did you two hook up?”

Leaning against the window sill, staring out into the darkness, Mattias said, “No. She still wants to know about the Elite, and I won't tell her. She's too concerned about my safety, and how it will affect her if I go missing and she can't get answers. I suppose I can't really blame her. Confessing puts her in greater danger, too, which I tried to explain. Imagine if Franklin's men had actually reached the point of torturing information form her.” Mattias's blood ran cold at the thought.

“Damn. Chey doesn't know anything about it, and that's exactly why. Of course, I'm not actively going out on missions, either. It makes a difference.”

“Yes, it does. So I'll return home a little early. I've made a few tentative business arrangements here, there's no reason for me to linger. Expect me tomorrow.” Mattias lifted the glass for a drink.

“I'm sorry it didn't work out. For whatever reason, I thought she might have been
the one.
”

Mattias winced, then settled. “I won't lament over what might have been. If she was or wasn't, it doesn't matter now. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Travel safe,” Sander said, and rang off.

Mattias slid the cell phone onto the window sill with his brother's words echoing in his ears.
Might have been the one.

A rap at his door interrupted his thoughts. From the hall, one of the guards called out.

“Your Highness? A visitor to see you.”

Pushing away from the window, Mattias crossed to the door and opened it, expecting to see one of the businessmen he had made tentative deals with. Alannah stood there, still in her dress and elbow length gloves, wearing a pensive expression.

“Thank you,” Mattias said to the guard without looking his way. To Alannah, he said, “Come in. Is something amiss?”

She stepped past, and he closed the door.

Spinning to face him, fingers fidgeting, she met his gaze. “Nothing is amiss—I mean, there
is,
but it's not an emergency.”

Frowning, he tilted his shoulder against the door and watched her. Trying to get a bead on what she was thinking. She looked a little twitchy and nervous, but then Alannah usually looked shifty and edgy.

“What is it, then?” he asked.

Alannah opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. She gestured helplessly with her hands, implored him with her eyes. “I'm afraid if we leave here, we'll never make another attempt. We'll go our own ways, always wondering
what if.”

With such similar wording, he wondered for a moment if Sander had called Alannah on the phone. His brother was a dead man if so. “Did Sander contact you?”

Confusion crossed her face. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

He waved a hand to dismiss the notion. “Never mind. I'm not sure what you want me to say, Alannah. You made it perfectly clear how you feel, and since I won't change my mind, we're at an impasse.”

“Can't we find some way to work it out?” Quirking her mouth, she pleaded again with her eyes.

Mattias steeled himself against the urge to reach out and stroke his fingers along her jaw. The smoothness of her cheek. “I don't think we can. Not after what you said before our dance.”

She took a step closer, tempting him to touch her. The words she'd said earlier still rang sharp in his mind, though, and he slid his hands into his pockets so he wouldn't succumb to his baser desires. Any thought of a relationship was going nowhere, making tenderness and a physical connection useless.

Unlacing her fingers, she drew a gloved finger along the outside of his arm, still staring up into his face. “What if you just tell me generics, instead of hard details? Just give me an overview--”

“Alannah.” Mattias quelled a shudder at the skim of her fingers, warning her with his tone that he wouldn't be swayed into confessing anything about the 'group'. Catching her hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a light kiss across the back. Releasing her, he studied her features. Alannah waged a war within herself, he could see it plain as day. If he dragged her into a kiss, showed her what she was missing, it might change her mind. At the end of the day, however, he knew that wasn't the right way to handle it. She would still want answers, want details that he could not give her. Alannah had to decide for herself that he was worth it
with
his secrets intact. Until she came to that conclusion, anything else would likely end in heartache for them both.

“You, sir, drive a hard bargain. I'm even thinking you might be more stubborn than me,” she finally said.

“I know what will happen if we disregard your concerns. So do you, I think, which is why you're fighting your feelings so hard. If things got serious between us, you'd resent me leaving in the middle of the night, sometimes for days on end, without knowing where I was or if I was all right. Valid concerns, as you've recently seen.” Mattias chose to be straight up with her and not beat around any bushes. This was the cold, hard reality of his life, take it or leave it.

“And I keep thinking about lying next to some other man, safe and secure knowing where he is and what he's doing—and being miserable because he's not you. That thought haunts me. More every passing second. I feel like throwing caution to the wind and going for it, because living like that is worse in my mind than knowing you might put your life at risk for someone else at any time.” Her quiet words were earnest and heartfelt.

“I promised myself I wouldn't sway your decision. It's up to you what you can live with, Alannah. But I'm willing to try if you think you can handle it. My life, my family—we've had issues. Above and beyond what I do in private, there's that whole aspect to consider. As a woman I'm seeing, you'll be subject to intense scrutiny, more than you've ever faced before. I know you hate it, hate being in the spotlight. These are things I cannot change.” Mattias prepared to see Alannah withdraw and shrink away from the idea of being so prominent in society. To his surprise, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. A familiar stubborn spark gleamed in her eyes. If nothing else, Alannah could be determined when she wanted to be.

“I know. I did some research during my time at home. It's the other thing that bothered me more than the rest, honestly, and I--”

“Bothered?” Picking up on the past tense, he interrupted her.

“It will still bother me for a while. I'll wonder and wait up for you at night—
if
we get that far—and I suspect I might be grumpy now and then when I can't ask you where you've been. But living the rest of my life not knowing if I passed up the man I was supposed to be with will haunt me forever. So...yes. I mean, I'm not going to press you about your extracurricular activities. I'll learn to deal with it and--”

He didn't give her a chance to finish. What Mattias heard was a resounding
yes
, and that was all he needed. Gathering her into his arms, he swooped in and covered her mouth with his. Supple and soft, her lips opened for him, allowing the advent of his searching tongue. She was every bit as sweet as he thought she might be. Sweet and hot and unafraid to run her hands over his body. Her fingers plucked at the buttons on his shirt as their kiss went from hungry to urgent, tugging open three more. The feel of her gloves on his skin earned her a rumble of appreciation.

Within minutes their clothing lay strewn across the floor, the black of his pants askew across the delicate pink of her gown. He learned her with his palms and fingertips, kneading and squeezing and tweaking her sensitive skin until her panting groans filled his suite. He left marks on her throat and dampness against the shell of her ear. Likewise, she ran her gloved hands over him in tentative exploration, gripping the muscles of his back and hips with enough pressure to spike his lust to the next level.

Rather than give in and be hasty, Mattias took his time once he got her prone on his bed, coaxing mewls of pleasure from her lips as well as throaty demands for more. Lavishing the perfection of her skin with lathes of his tongue and nipping kisses, he eased his hips between her thighs, one hand braced against the pillow beside her head and the other diving into the luxurious strands of her hair. He timed his first thrust with a gentle tug, pausing when he felt the telltale give of her womanhood.
That
he hadn't been expecting. He sought her eyes, even as she moved against him.