by Nana Malone
He chuckled and shook his head. He noted Trace in the corner and nodded at him. "Yeah, not exactly a game. When we were kids, Derrick was always a prick to me. So, I may have been all over his ass."
I grinned at that. "No problem. I get the sentiment."
He chuckled. "Yeah, well, you better. So,”—he narrowed his gaze at me—“what’s the deal? Plastic surgery? What?"
I rolled my shoulders. I supposed Sebastian hadn't told him everything. "It's a long story. But according to Derrick, we're twins."
Alexi's brows lifted. "So, Sebastian wasn't fucking kidding about that? But how?"
"I'm about to try and go fish those answers out now.”
Lex rocked back on his heels. “Do you want to grab a pint on the way in or on the way back or something?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Come along if you want."
It turned out Lex was pretty good company. He was mellow and relaxed. It was easy enough to just be around him, but the guy was ever watchful. He never missed a thing. Like he took it all in before he made any decisions. I liked that.
Trace drove us into the old town. He followed the GPS as he went on through some of the death-defying roads with narrow lanes that made it almost impossible to pass another car. When we arrived, I glanced around at the neat Dutch-style house. It was painted in shades of pale blue. And from the looks of it, the paint job was new.
I climbed out and glanced at Trace. "Any chance I can get you to go and get yourself a drink while I go in?"
Trace crossed his arms and lifted a brow. "Nah. Remember what I said earlier about Zia and my balls? I like my balls. My balls are cozy. I want to keep them. So, when you go in, I’ll stay right on you so I can tell Zia I never took my eyes off of you."
Lex grinned. "I'll hang out with your Kevin Costner guy."
Trace scowled at him, but Lex just kept grinning. I walked up the tiny stone walkway lined with jasmine. Who took care of the house when she was spending all week with Derrick?
A young woman in her late twenties pulled open the door, and she did a double-take. "Um, Mr. Arlington?"
I frowned. "Have we met?"
"Uh, yeah,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I worked in the accounts payable department. We met once."
Ah, not me. Derrick. I nodded slowly. "Hello again, I'm so sorry I've forgotten your name."
"Nina. Nina Dominchyk. Sorry. Of course, you wouldn't remember. You have maybe tens of thousands of employees, but you certainly made an impression on me."
I winced. "I'm sorry if I was rude or inappropriate. Sometimes I'm not myself."
She shook her head. "No, you were very encouraging. Um, I'll get my aunt."
Ah, her aunt. I knew Elena hadn't said anything about having her own children.
When Elena came to the door, she startled for a moment. "Derrick?" She stumbled forward and then sighed. "Oh, Theo."
"I see you can tell us apart."
She tapped her nose. "That broken nose somehow makes you more ruggedly handsome, not nearly as pretty as your brother."
I sighed. There's that word again, brother. "Well, he's not so pretty now. We might end up with a matching set of noses after all." I rubbed the back of my neck. “Actually, I need to speak to you about him. I’m sorry to intrude on your weekend off, but can I come in? It’s important.”
She nodded. "Yes, of course. What’s wrong?"
I glanced back at Trace, who looked like a statue. Lex just waved.
"It’ll only take a minute. I was hoping you could give me some answers." I was pretty sure Team WI wanted to keep Derrick’s second vanishing on the downlow.
She nodded slowly. "I understand. You're allowed to have questions. I hope that I can answer some of them."
"For starters, I guess, how did you know?"
She smiled at me softly. "That you weren't Derrick? Well, it was easy. You looked a little different, but a bad night’s sleep could do that. It was how you treated me. You were always kind and warm. Always polite. Now, I raised that boy, but he was an untidy little prick sometimes."
I laughed. "Yeah, well, that seems about right. My father, how did it happen? How did you even find out?"
She hesitated. "Theo, I'm not sure if this is really the best course of action. Let sleeping dogs lie. You and your brother have reunited again. What does it matter?"
"It matters to me. I lost time with him. I’ve been lied to my whole life."
"Look, there is a series of texts from Brian, your father's VP. He paid off your mother to stay quiet. And she wouldn’t come after your father for money. Your father was more focused on the business then. Obviously, I wasn't there, so I don't know all the details, but your mother fought him. He threatened her. He only needed one of his sons, because at the end of the day, how was he going to pass off two sons when his wife was never pregnant?”
I frowned and shook my head. "How the hell did that work?"
"With enough money, you can hide anything. And let's be clear… Derrick's adoptive mother wanted her life to stay the same. She wanted money and access and privilege. But she was a little fragile. When Timothy insisted that she was going to go and get help for her anxiety, she agreed. And then he told her what was going to happen. She didn't really have any choice."
"What kind of life is that?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure I could have done it. Raise someone else's child, sure. I took care of my niece while she was growing up, but to try and convince everyone that she’d given birth and had gone away to do it… how horrible living with that lie. And it ate at her until she finally had a heart attack. She was so young, only forty-five."
I frowned at that. "You think the stress of it was too much?"
"Well, you know, secrets are never good."
"Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all?"
"Look, you're free to ask your father all these questions. When I would ask questions, he would remind me that I was just the housekeeper and he could send me back to Croatia at any time." She harrumphed. “Never mind I was already naturalized.”
I sighed. That sounded just like the asshole I’d grown to loathe. "I get it. I understand. Thank you for your time. I know this is probably inconvenient, but I’d like to put you on leave, paid, of course, until I can find out what in the world is happening with Derrick.”
She frowned. “But you need me.”
I schooled my smile. “Yes, but I’ve been taking up your time for long enough. You deserve a rest.”
“What am I supposed to do with all that free time?”
“How about a vacation?”
She shook her head. “Never really had time before.”
“Well, now you do. Oh, you know, I do have one more question. I remember you saying something about Derrick calling himself Theo."
She blinked several times. "Right, yeah. When you were little, we took a trip to New York and I went along because the nanny was unavailable. When your father insisted I let Derrick play with this woman and her child, I didn't really understand it. You boys were about the same age, about the same size. I remember Derrick being a little bit bigger. He was more toe-headed. Your hair went darker quicker, but at that age, so many babies look alike. And your mother just said that you'd had an allergic reaction to something. Your cheeks were really red. I didn't think anything of it. You were about a year and a half old. But he could say your name though, Theo. Theo. Derrick insisted we all call him Theo for a while after that. And even though he was just a baby, he held on to that name like it was a lifeline."
My heart squeezed. I knew I wasn't supposed to remember him, but still, I couldn't help but want to. He'd held on to some memory of me from a long time ago, and I had nothing.
"Elena, thank you."
She nodded. "Come back anytime, okay? Are you staying at the penthouse?”
"I'm not sure. I think I'll probably be headed home as soon as Derrick recovers."
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, the top of her
head coming to the center of my chest.
I hugged her back. "Thank you for looking after me."
"I never looked after you."
I didn't know why that hurt so much. “When I came here, you did. It's more important to me than you know."
She gave me a wide grin. "It was my pleasure."
I had hoped that she would have answers for me, but all I had were more questions. And the only people I could probably ever address them to were Timothy Arlington and my mother. And considering I had no idea what to say to her without losing my shit, getting answers from her was going to be difficult.
Sebastian…
I watched my beautiful wife as she angrily flicked her paintbrush onto the canvas, sending splatters everywhere. And then she stepped back and stared at it. Watching Penny paint was like a revelation. I could see how her brain worked. She was working with some blues and greens, and she was wearing the mask I got her. And true to form, she had some paint flecks on the straps of her dress. God, I loved her.
Then why are you about to stifle her?
Ugh, I wasn't looking forward to this conversation, but it was for her own good. She was eight months pregnant. She needed to put her feet up and rest.
"Either come over here and have your way with me or start talking about whatever is scaring you."
Jesus, the thought of bending her over, turning her around on her little stool, widening her legs, shoving up her dress… It was as if I hadn't already had her this morning. Ever since she'd hit her six-month mark, she'd been ridiculously horny. Practically jumping me at every moment. Not that I was complaining. Because as concerned as I was about the baby, I was still a guy, and she was gorgeous and resplendent. I couldn't keep my hands off her. It was weird, she looked the same. She was carrying all her pregnancy weight within her belly and her boobs. God, those tits.
I shook my head. Jesus, already with these reactions. "Len, you're not to distract me right now."
She turned around with a saucy smirk. "Ooh, today it's Len, which means you're horny."
I cleared my throat. She had a point, but that wasn't why I was there. "Sweetheart, can we talk about it?"
She shrugged and turned back around. "Talk about what? How wet I already am?"
Fuck. It didn't take much these days. Just a whiff of her perfume and I was ready to go. I was pretty sure this was not how men were supposed to be around their pregnant wives.
"Penny, enough. You're not going to distract me."
She put her paintbrush down and covered the canvas. "I hate that. I don't know what I'm thinking. My brain is scattered. Besides, I'd much rather paint than talk to my husband, who apparently is smuggling a sword in his pants."
I bit back a laugh. "Woman, you are seriously going to be the death of me."
She waddled over to me. From the look on her face, I could tell she thought it was to taunt her. It was so damn cute. And sure enough, when she got within a foot of me, I caught a whiff of her, and there was no way that sword in my pants was going away. Nope. It wanted to be sheathed inside her. Turned on her side, legs parting for me… yep, that's what I wanted.
That's not what we're here for.
No. I was here to deliver bad news. Focus man, and not on how great her tits look.
I dragged my gaze from her low-cut top to her face. That gorgeous face. The tawny, golden brown complexion, sparkling hazel eyes, and she'd changed her hair from her curly afro to braids. It made it easier to manage. I missed the curls though. "Penny, you're not going to do this to me."
She grinned, sliding a hand down my chest and over my abs. Fuck. She was absolutely going to do this to me, but I had to get out what I had to say first. Then if she still wanted to do it to me, I was going to let her, because well, I was horny. And she was my wife and I missed her already.
"We had it this morning."
When was this feeling going to go away? The desperate coiling need to have her and be with her all the time. It wasn't the way love was supposed to work, was it? I’d thought it would become this quiet, steady thing, but with Penny, it always felt like fire being chased by lightning.
"Fine, Sebastian, why don't you tell me what you're going to tell me?"
Her voice went husky. And I knew what she was doing, but I also wasn't going to stop her as her delicate fingers popped the button on my jeans and slid inside. Jesus Christ. I was going to die. I was going to die coming in my wife's hand. That was just how this was going to go. It was fine. I was okay with that.
I coughed. "Penelope."
"Oh, my." She tightened her hold around my base, and my eyes damn near crossed. "Tell me, my king, am I in trouble?"
I licked my lips and nodded slowly. "Yeah, big trouble. You really, really need to be punished."
I could hear the smile in her voice. I couldn't see it. My eyes were screwed shut. I was trying not to come in her hands. "Ooh, I do love it when you punish me. Tell me, are you going to use your fingers, your mouth, or maybe this instrument in here?"
My eyes crossed. "Penny, Jesus, I have to talk to you about something."
"So, talk."
I frowned, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. I could do this. I could ignore the rush of fire on my spine. "Look, I'm not comfortable with you being involved in the whole Derrick-Theo situation. It's dangerous."
"Oh my God, we are in total agreement. I don't want you around it either. Derrick's on his own. Derrick is crazy, and he's always been a dick. Fantastic. Neither one of us wants the other one around it. Awesome. So, are we going to back down?" She asked sweetly.
I frowned. She was still doing that thing with her hand, taking her thumb and rubbing it over that sensitive spot right under the tip. Fuck. She had my number and she knew it. "Len, you know it's different for me."
"Why is it different, honey?"
A tickle of warning made the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. "It just is. You're pregnant."
"Yeah, something you did to me."
"I recall you being there too. ’Oh, Sebastian. Oh my God, right there. Right there,’” I mimicked her. "Or that wasn't you?"
She scowled at me and tightened her hold on my dick.
I coughed. "Fuck. Okay, sorry. Yes, I knocked you up. And I'm very proud of it, mind you."
"I'm proud of it too. But just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I have to sit around and put my feet up and chew on my thumbs."
"That's exactly what it means, sweetheart. I have the impression the whole Derrick-Theo thing is going to get a whole lot messier before we sort it out."
"Sebastian, how can we keep having these conversations?"
"Because you refuse to do the rational, reasonable thing. Before you hit six months and weren't really showing, yeah. Sure, great. Be in the field. But now, you're about to tip over."
"I will point out," she said, still stroking me because she was diabolical.
And you love her for it.
"I will point out that there are women who run marathons at nine months pregnant."
"Are you one of them? I don't remember the last time you ran a marathon."
"That is beside the point. The point is I could if I wanted to. The doctor said all physical activity is perfectly normal for me at this stage. Why do you think you know more than the doctor?"
"Jesus, Penny... fuck." I had to steady myself on one of her work desks because the urge to argue with her was warring with the urge to fuck her. And I was in trouble trying to point out one good reason. I had to use my rational voice, because if I pissed her off, it was going to be cold war in the palace. "Look, baby, I know. Serena Williams was three months pregnant and won in the open. I get it. I'm just saying you're showing a lot. You can't see your feet."
"I will have you know I can see my feet just fine."
I lifted a brow and crossed my arms. Yeah, this was helping. If I kept my gaze on her eyes, I could get nearly as— Oh, no. I was still horny. Especially when she tightened her hold on my base and stroked slowly to the tip. I bl
ew out a long breath. "What color of shoes are you wearing?"
"Oh, black."
I shook my head. "You're very cute. You think your shoes are black."
She frowned. "Aren't they?"
I laughed. "No, they're not. Come on. No more fieldwork. No more throwing yourself into dangerous situations."
"Look, I get it. You're worried. I'm okay. I know that when this baby comes, the baby is getting all of my attention. And I won't be able to really return to work even if I happily won't want to in that way, because I'll have a little you to love. I know that I'm going to lose a good chunk of who I am, and I'm terrified of that. I don't want to lose that part of myself, so I want to hold on to it as long as I can. Giving it up when we have the baby, that makes sense. At least giving up some of it. Not that my mother fully did, but I'll be raising a little prince or princess."
"You're still not going to let us find out the sex?" I groaned. I wasn’t good with being patient.
She frowned at me. "No, that ruins it. But listen, I just want to do what I can while I still can."
"I understand, and I support that, but you can't put yourself in danger."
"I promise I'm not going to go running after any perpetrators, but I do want to still be able to do what I'm good at. Team Winston Isles support staff, that's my jam. It's not like I'm on patrol with the Royal Guard on a nightly basis. You have to recognize that you're being overprotective."
"I am. But that is my baby. And you're my wife. It's my entire job to look after the both of you."
"Well, it's my job to also take care of you and this baby. And I have to have my job to be able to do that."
"You don't need your job."
She lifted a brow and started to draw her hand back. "Say what?"
I winced and then gripped her retreating hand. "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it, Sebastian?"
Fuck. What was I supposed to say? Yes, sometimes I was old-fashioned. But I knew her. I knew how important her job was to her, how important being a member of the Royal Guard was. So I was working to not stifle her too much. But she was pregnant, goddamn it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."