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 fa
r—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.
“You're not the only one with secrets,” she whispered, before seeking his mouth with her own.
Indeed. Mattias delighted in the thought of spending the rest of his life discovering each and every one.
About the Author
Born and raised in Corona California, Danielle now resides in Texas with her husband and two sons. She has been writing for as long as she can remember, penning works in a number of genres. To date, she has published seventeen novels and nine short stories. Her interests vary wildly: reading, traveling, photography, graphic art and baking, among others.
There is a black cat named Sheba involved who thinks Danielle's laptop is her personal grooming station.
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The Royal Elite: Mattias Page 19