Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4)

by Long, Heather

  Vidal struck O’Connor’s arm while a second bodyguard hit him full in the chest. The third man scooped Meredith up and jerked her away from the fray. Sebastian retreated with her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her toward the car. It was over in seconds, with O’Connor pinned.

  Gasping with horror, Meredith strained at Sebastian’s hold. “Terry, stop. It’s all right. Please, Bastian, make them stop.”

  He’d rather dump the ass back on the helicopter and ship him off the island, but he couldn’t dismiss the worried look pinching Meredith’s features. “It’s all right,” he soothed, rubbing her arm. “Vidal.”

  The head of his security detail rose and they brought O’Connor up with them. Vidal removed his weapon and unloaded it before retreating a step to look at Sebastian. “Your Highness, you and your guest should go to the house. We’ll settle this issue here.”

  “Settle it?” A tremor fractured Meredith’s tone. “No, Terry goes with us. This is a misunderstanding. There is nothing to be settled.”

  Her immediate defense chafed and Sebastian clenched his teeth.

  “You know what would help, Meredith?” Kate was suddenly on Meredith’s other side, drawing her attention away from the scene. “You and Sebastian go chat. Let these men settle it as professionals. Everyone is a little one edge and they aren’t going to calm down until all protectees are in a secure location.”

  Richard Prentiss’ fiancée wasn’t finished, she swept a cool glance over them. “In fact, I’ll take over, along with Michel here.” She indicated the bodyguard who’d stayed with Sebastian. “You four figure it out and, O’Connor, I’d like to remind you that I and the helicopter are still here. You can go back with me.”

  If Sebastian wasn’t mistaken, Kate actually sounded like she relished the idea of O’Connor fighting her on the issue. Irritation turned to concern at Meredith’s trembling beneath his arm.

  Ignoring the others and focusing on her, Sebastian lowered his voice. “Come with me. It will be all right, I promise. No one will hurt him.” No matter how he might wish it otherwise, this wasn’t about her bodyguard, but her. Meredith was the only one who mattered.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” Emotion quivered in her voice and she strained to pull away from him again. This time he let her go. When she took two shaky steps toward the car, he followed—ready to catch her.

  “I needed to see you.” He wouldn’t apologize for it, but he would say, “I’m sorry for the scene. I did not expect O’Connor to object so strenuously to our speaking.”

  “What does that even mean?” She whirled to face him, halting halfway to the car. Kate and Michel still stood between them and the others.

  “I missed you,” he told her simply. “We need this time together. We need to work out whatever issue convinced you to try and end us.”

  Her cheeks went scarlet and she shot a glance past him to the others and then back. Lips clamping together, Meredith pivoted and strode toward the car with Sebastian keeping pace. He made it a step before she did, waved off Michel and opened the door for her. She slid inside and he followed.

  Kate caught the door before he could close it. “We’re going to take care of this. I’ll follow in the second car.” Her gaze went past him to Meredith briefly and then back to him. With a warning look, she closed the door and patted the roof. The driver pulled away immediately.

  “Why did you do this?” So low was her whisper, he strained to catch it.

  “Because you wouldn’t talk to me.” Leaning back, he tapped his fingers against his thigh. What he wanted to do was wrap an arm around her, but her stiff posture, the way she angled to look out the opposite window and her still folded arms all screamed ‘keep away.’

  “So you just decide to invade a meeting where I’m supposed to be—” She broke off and twisted, her wounded gaze striking him like a physical blow. “There’s no job, is there?”

  Turning sideways, he put his arm on the seat behind her. “No, I’m sorry. When you refused the calls and not even O’Connor could get you on the phone, I needed to take some drastic measures.”

  “Drastic? Really?” Her mouth opened as though she intended to say something else and then snapped shut again. When she gave him her back, her spine ramrod straight, he scowled.

  The drive from the landing pad to the house was mercifully short. The moment the vehicle came to a halt, Meredith fumbled with the door and pushed it open, all but spilling out to walk away with jerky motions. Following her, Sebastian waved off the men coming to greet them.

  “Go away,” he ordered and strode after Meredith. Clearly an audience was impeding her ability to speak. When she didn’t slow, he caught her arm. “Meredith, we’re alone you can—”

  “You son of a bitch. Who do you think you are?” She whirled, and her palm slapped his face with a sharp crack. Angry fire snapped in her eyes and her face flushed with temper. Well, at least she isn’t walking away.

  The moment her hand connected with his face, regret and the horror set in. Meredith jerked back a step and covered her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”

  “No.” Sebastian wore a rueful expression and shook his head. The white mark on his face from where she’d struck him turned a livid shade of red. “I deserved it.”

  She was shaking from the inside out. Yelling at people. Hitting them. This wasn’t her. The pattern of irrational, nonsensical behavior defied convention. “I can’t believe I hit you.”

  “I always said you were the passionate one.” The corner of his mouth curved upward with the familiar teasing words and her rebellious heart squeezed. Even the evidence of her slap couldn’t diminish his charm.

  “Oh God, Bastian. This is not how I pictured any of this.” She raked her hand through her hair and stared at him. The riot of her emotions tossed her down the rapids to bang off rocks of frustration, longing, anger, and need.

  All at once his face gentled and he closed the distance between them. “Nor me. I’m am so glad you’re here, so if you need to yell at me or hit me again to get it out of your system, then do it. But promise you’ll talk to me afterward.” Artless charm, and playfulness underscored the sober conviction in his expression. “Tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” As painful as it was to admit it out loud, it was true. He’d never been anything but himself. “I—I just can’t do it anymore.” She’d rehearsed the words she’d used in their phone call for three days before she’d gathered up the courage to make it. Confrontation was not her forte. She could handle teaching a class or addressing a thousand person filled auditorium—as long as it was on numbers, formulas, or equations—but Bastian turned her inside out.

  He studied her and eased forward another step. The fingers he touched to her chin were inexorably gentle. He nudged her gaze up until she met his. Shame and regret twined through her. “Talk to me, darling. Something triggered your call. Everything was fine and then…”

  “Don’t you see?” She took hold of his hand on her chin and he closed his fingers around her, tugging her closer. Surrounded by the meticulously tended grounds and balmy breeze, she felt about a thousand miles away from their problems and yet—the whole situation was such a perfect metaphor for all of it. “Everything wasn’t—isn’t fine.”

  His frown suggested he didn’t like hearing the information, but he nodded once. “All right. What happened?”

  There was the rub. “Nothing.” After squeezing his hand once, she made herself let go of him and retreat. His nearness made it impossible to think clearly, not when all she wanted to do was to peel open his shirt and inspect every inch of his gorgeous body. Need settled like a hot coal in her belly and she bit the inside of her lip.

  Pain served as a stinging reminder to not fall into his arms. God knew, sex had never been their issue. She tried to concentrate on their surroundings—an island in the middle of the Mediterranean. Her circuit brought her around to face the house and she stared up at the magn
ificent mansion. Constructed of almost rose-colored stone with soaring windows and at least three, if not four, levels—it was beautiful.

  “I find ‘nothing’ difficult believe,” he said carefully into the hollow silence. “One does not simply end five years of…anything for nothing.” The hesitation raked bloody scores through her soul.

  Their relationship lacked definition. He was a prince. She was a professor. It was almost a sitcom, yet she found nothing funny about it. “It’s been months since we’ve been in the same place for longer than a day.”

  His brows drew together with his frown, but she didn’t see anger—only intense thoughtfulness. “Yes, we were supposed to have a week on the yacht and I should have made the delay up to you sooner. I was not expecting Armand to send Kate and Richard there for Kate’s recuperation…”

  “Wait, Kate is the attorney’s fiancée? The one who was shot?” All of a sudden, Meredith felt like a horrible person. She’d not known who she was, and Kate had been so kind to her while duping her into this visit.

  “Yes, but as you can see she is fine. She needed a few weeks to recuperate. Armand was far more comfortable sending them to the yacht to be secure while she did so.” He reached out for her again, but she avoided his touch. With a sigh, he slid his hands into his pockets.

  Meredith paced away again, fighting to keep tears at bay. “I’m glad she’s all right. I understood why they needed a place to go…”

  “I promise, I will make our lost week up. I know we got off to a poor start here, but we have the island to ourselves for the next couple of weeks. It will just be you and me—”

  A throat clearing interrupted him, and Meredith glanced back to see impatience darken Sebastian’s countenance. Eduard Vidal, Sebastian’s head of security, stood a few feet away. “Please forgive the intrusion, Your Highness.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Sebastian didn’t take his gaze away from her and she wrapped her arms around herself. They were standing out in the open and they were hardly alone. Security moved to the fringes, save for Eduard, but she could see them arrayed out in a loose circle with several yards between them. Chances were they couldn’t hear anything.

  “My apologies, Your Highness. It cannot.”

  Aggravation slid over Sebastian’s face and vanished so quickly, she thought she might have imagined it. “Please excuse me, Meredith. I will be right back.” He pivoted and the pair walked several feet away. Beyond them, she saw cars in the circular drive—Kate walked down the front steps and spoke to Terry as he exited one of the vehicles.

  Kate greeting him didn’t bother Meredith nearly as much as the very obvious security presence around Terry. Two of Sebastian’s guards bracketed him. He was in trouble because he’d interfered and tried to protect her.

  Abandoning her position, she strode toward the cars. The men noticed her approach right away, but she ignored them all except for Terry. “Are you all right?”

  “Nothing wounded beyond my pride.” He gave her an easy smile. “How about you?”

  She waved off his concern. “You’re not in trouble are you?”

  “You assault the boss, you get in trouble.” His chagrined expression mired her in guilt.

  “You were doing your job.” She frowned and glanced over to where Sebastian and Eduard spoke. Sebastian’s gaze was locked on her and the frown on his brow deepened. “I’ll talk to him…”

  Terry caught her hand and tugged her back before she could take a step. “You don’t have to.” He dropped his voice. “In fact, I think it would be better if you didn’t.”

  Very aware of the eyes on them, Meredith lowered her voice. “You shouldn’t be in trouble for protecting me.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I mean it. Can you handle this?” He dropped his voice as well.

  “I have no idea.” It was the truth. She really didn’t know how she was feeling at the moment. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess. You told me I should reconsider the job offer when it came in.”

  In fact, Terry was the only one who counseled her to think the entire thing through. She longed for a distraction and her department head had been over the moon at the idea of the donation and projected grant money the work could generate—not to mention reputation. If she published again, it would have been five major accomplishments in five years. She was at the top of her field and the project would have sealed it.

  She’d understood Terry’s caution, but at the time, she’d wanted to leave more than worry about impossible scenarios. What she wouldn’t give to be back in Boston, freezing in class and teaching algorithms.

  “Meredith?” Sebastian’s voice washed over her and guilt gnawed at her. Her earlier wishing that she hadn’t met Sebastian was less than charitable and completely untrue. Squeezing Terry’s hand in a show of solidarity, she released him to look at the love of her life. Her heart did another little flip-flop in her chest.

  Yes, she was angry and she was frustrated, but, no, she didn’t want to be in Boston. She didn’t even want to be standing outside the house. She wanted to throw herself at Bastian and lose herself in his arms.

  “All done?” Her attempt to go for a brighter tone sounded odd to her ears and, based on Sebastian’s narrowed gaze, his as well.

  “Quite.” But for the first time since she arrived, she heard a note of question in his voice. He held out his hand to her and even though she knew the rational choice, the smart choice, would be to close him out before he battered down her fracturing defenses, she slid her palm across his.

  The touch sizzled and when he drew her close this time, she went. He said nothing to Terry or the others, but led her up the stairs. Threading their fingers together, she sighed. “Going to give me the ten cent tour?”

  At the top of the steps, he paused. “Do you want one?”

  Despite her exhaustion, and her teeter-tottering emotions, she did. It might give them something to talk about and ease the jagged chasm between them. “Would you mind? I—” She canted her head back and looked up at the huge house. “I’ve never been here before.” It sounded so flimsy, but if Sebastian disagreed with her, he didn’t let it show.

  “I would love to show you the house.” He slid her arm through his. The guarded look she’d glimpsed earlier seemed to retreat behind his playful countenance, but it didn’t disappear entirely. “St. Christos has a history, but the house has only been here for about fifty years or so. My grandfather built it for my grandmother…”

  He led her inside and his accent washed over her as he shared the story. The interior of the house was nearly as spectacular as the exterior and yet, as fine as it all was, it also possessed the curious effect of looking like a real home. Every room seemed designed for comfort and family photos scattered across the various tables.

  She recognized what had to be his forefathers—or maybe even his father—in one of the paintings, since he looked exactly like Sebastian. Of course she knew what his brothers looked like and, while Sebastian and Armand favored each other, George looked more like their mother.

  The closer she came to the painting, the more of Sebastian’s likeness she saw in the older, distinguished gentleman. Grave eyes gazed out from the handsome face and a touch of silver highlighted the man’s temples. While it was only an oil painting, somehow the artist seemed to have captured something of the man’s personality—or maybe I’m just reading something into it, but this could be Bastian in a few years. Something deep inside her loosened, and her throat went scratchy.

  Bastian would look the same, with serious eyes and the hint of weathering to his otherwise beautiful face. The silver crown would be a testament to his age, but would he be lonely? Who would walk through those years with him? Or would he…

  “You’re not listening to me anymore,” Sebastian murmured from a step behind her and Meredith blinked back the tears desperately pooling in her eyes.

  “You look like him,” she said, and bit her lip at the choked sound she made with the words.

  He turned h
er around and caught her face in his hands, swiping away her tears with his thumbs. “Darling, what? What’s eating you up inside? Something’s upset you deeply, and I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is.”

  The desperate desire to avoid this very conversation drove her from the beginning. Five years of wonderful adventures and magnificent moments, but all of them fleeting. She lived in Boston, while he roamed the world. “Us. We’re never going to work,” she whispered, and hated herself for saying it. “I don’t belong here and you? You have so many important things to do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you and me. You have events, and duties and responsibilities and—” She sniffed. God she hated losing it in front of him. She was a terrible crier. “I have students and projects. I shouldn’t even be here now. The university is going to be disappointed and, well, it was a project which could have garnered them future grant money…” And she rambled, wincing at her scattering focus. She fought for a weak smile. “I’m tired. I’m sorry, I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just, after this last year, what you and I have? It’s not working anymore. You were stabbed, which changed everything…”

  Why couldn’t she explain it right?

  “I’m sorry my injury inconvenienced you.” His stiff tone carried a note of warning.

  Stumbling over her own guilt, she stared at him. “Oh, don’t say it like that. I was terrified for you, and it was weeks before I heard anything. Nothing in the press, no phone calls. Not even a cryptic note with a puzzle.”

  “Security was impossible for a time. My brother monitored every incoming and outgoing communication.” The corners of his eyes tightened and his mouth compressed into a thin line. “I will make arrangements to ensure you are never left to wonder again. I told you when I called you—as soon as I was able—why I hadn’t been in touch. Security was very much an issue.”