by Day Leclaire
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Making love to my fiancée.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Stop calling me that. It’s not a real engagement and I’m not making love in the palace gardens where anyone could stumble across us.”
He shrugged. “Okay, then we’ll talk some more. Have you told me everything you need to?” He smiled at her with such tenderness that it nearly broke her heart. “Any more confessions, my scandalous wife-to-be?”
“Aren’t you listening? I’m not your wife-to-be. You haven’t asked and I haven’t accepted. This is nothing to make light of, Your Highness. It’s serious.”
He sobered, the laughter dying from his eyes. “I promise I’m not making light of it. The circumstances of your birth don’t make any difference to me, or to how I feel about you. Nor does your relationship to Joc. But it infuriates me that you’ve been made to feel ashamed of something beyond your control.”
Dear God, she’d have to tell him all of it. It was the only way to get him to understand. “It isn’t just the circumstance of my birth,” she insisted. “There’s something else. Something worse.”
If she were going to get through this next part she needed every ounce of control she possessed. She fixed her gaze on where Lander had tossed her shoes, one sitting as neatly as if she’d placed it on the grass, the other facedown, its stiletto heel stabbing skyward like a finger of doom. She retreated into a math equation to help clear her mind, working it through step by step. She’d nearly finished when Lander spoke.
“Would you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing?”
She blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked what you were doing. It’s like…you went away. One minute you were here and—” he snapped his fingers just shy of her nose “—the next you were gone. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, either.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes. That.”
“I was solving a second-order-linear-difference equation.”
“Second order linear—”
“Difference equation. With constant coefficients.” A reluctant smile broke through. “It’s a mathematical equation. It helps reduce stress.”
“And you do that in your head?”
Her brow crinkled in a frown. “I’m not sure I always get the answer right, but that’s not the purpose.”
“Of course not,” he muttered. “Damn, woman, you never cease to amaze me.” He gestured for her to continue, bringing them back on point. “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s the other scandal in your background? I don’t suppose it has anything to do with a certain man named Stewart?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She started to lace her fingers together, but finding she still wore Soul Mate threw her off stride and she hesitated, not quite certain what to do with her hands. Lander settled the matter for her. He pulled her closer and twined her arms around his neck. It seemed easiest to submit rather than to protest. He’d release her soon enough—once he heard all she had to say.
Juliana rested her head on his shoulder. “I used to be an accountant,” she began.
“Too bad you didn’t tell me when we first met. I might have offered you a job working for me. Our chief executive accountant, Lauren DeVida, left when my father died.” His voice rumbled deep and soothing against her ear. “I assume you worked for your brother as an accountant?”
“Before heading Arnaud’s Angels, I was his CEA.”
“See? I was right. You’d have been perfect as Lauren’s replacement. I’d bet you’d find keeping track of our amethyst exchange far more interesting than Joc’s wheeling and dealing.” He twined a rope of curls around his finger and gave it a playful tug. “And I’m sure you’d be as devoted to me as Lauren was to my father.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” she retorted. “Because I no longer mix business and pleasure.”
“Ah. Cue Stewart’s entrance into your life,” Lander guessed.
Juliana nodded, her cheek rubbing against downy-soft Egyptian cotton. “And then came Stewart. It’s not a pretty story.”
“Let me guess. Stewart worked in Arnaud’s corporate headquarters, and the instant he discovered you were Joc’s little sister, he moved in.” When she stared at him in astonishment, he shrugged. “It’s an old story, sweetheart.”
She grimaced. “Then I guess this next part won’t surprise you, either. He decided to steal from Joc and use me to do it. I was so madly in love with him—” She offered Lander an apologetic look. “Or thought I was, that I didn’t catch on to what he was doing until too late.”
“I assume when it all came out, you were vilified right along beside him, despite being the innocent in the story?”
It took her a long moment before she could bring herself to speak. “Thank you for believing in me. Not many people did, because of who my father was.”
“And your brother.”
There was a harsh undercurrent to his voice that disturbed her. “Joc may have gotten his start skating a slippery line. But as soon as he found his footing, he made sure all his dealings were dead honest. It’s become a point of honor with him. Unfortunately, the press has a long memory and a suspicious nature. They’ve never forgotten those early days.”
“You’re a loyal sister.”
“I have reason to be. He’s always done everything in his power to protect me.” She returned to the issue at hand with painful deliberation. “As for my part in Stewart’s scam…Though I didn’t help him, at least not directly, I wasn’t innocent, either. I made it easy for him to pull it off. I was careless with passwords which allowed him access to computer documents he shouldn’t have seen. I also let slip information that I should have kept confidential.”
“Did he embezzle money?”
“No, he was too slick to remove it directly from any of Joc’s accounts. Instead, he used insider knowledge to line his own pockets. You see, Joc has hundreds of businesses under dozens of corporate umbrellas. Stewart was able to gain access to records on outstanding bids, and on proposed buyouts and sell-offs. He acquired client lists, employee records, profit-and-loss statements.” She splayed her hands across Lander’s shoulders. “Basically, he used his position for insider trading. In addition, he influenced clients, revealed bids to competitors. You name it. If he could profit from it, he did it.”
“I assume you discovered what he was up to.”
“Eventually. But not until it was too late to fix. The scandal broke within weeks of my figuring out what was going on. By then it couldn’t be covered up.”
“Your own brother fired you?”
“No, I quit. I couldn’t let Joc take the fall for my error in judgment.” She removed Lander’s ring and held it out to him. “You do understand why you have to call off the engagement? Why you have to tell the media it was all a huge misunderstanding? Even though Joc corroborated my side of things, there’s always been a suspicion that I was more involved than anyone could prove. Especially since my last name is Arnaud, a fact that only added to the taint of suspicion.”
“What I see is a young and naive woman taken advantage of by an experienced scam artist. You aren’t the first person to have that happen, and you sure as hell won’t be the last.” He took the ring as she’d expected he would, then stunned her by saying, “The engagement stands. And just so you know, in my world a marriage always follows an engagement. Always.”
Her eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious. A fake engagement was one thing. But marriage? “You can’t—”
“Think about it, sweetheart. How would it look if five minutes after I announce our engagement, I claim it was all a mistake? They have photos of you wearing my mother’s ring.” He took her left hand in his and slid Soul Mate back into place. “I wouldn’t have given this ring to someone without due consideration, and the people of Verdonia know that.”
Her fingers trembled in his grasp. “If you don’t put a stop to this, you’ll lose the election.”
“Then I’ll lose the election,” he retorted implacably. “Better that than my honor.”
His tone warned that their discussion was at an end, something she recognized from a lifetime’s experience dealing with Joc. She inclined her head in apparent agreement, but she couldn’t bring herself to give voice to the lie. When he pulled her back into his embrace, she went willingly enough. But inside she wept for the loss to come.
She told Lander about her relationship to Joc, expecting him to release her from their impromptu engagement. To distance himself from her. It was one thing to maintain an arm’s-length business dealing with someone, even a man suspected of amassing his fortune through dubious means; it was another to marry into the family. Once the people of Verdonia discovered she was Ana Arnaud, the stain on Lander’s reputation would be irreparable. Which left her with only one choice.
If Lander’s honor prevented him from breaking their engagement, she’d have to see to it personally.
Seven
“You can’t do this, Ana.”
“Yes, Joc, I can and I will.” Juliana put the finishing touches on her makeup, then slipped a pair of plain pearl studs through the holes in her ears. “If Lander refuses to stop this insanity, I’ll do it for him. The press conference stands.”
“Maybe Montgomery doesn’t want to end your relationship. Maybe he’s in love with you. Maybe he used the situation to force you into an engagement you’d never have considered otherwise. Have you thought of that?” Joc paced from one end of the bedroom to the other, before pausing behind her. “Well? Have you?”
It took her an instant to control the wild surge of longing, the reckless hope that flared to life before she could tamp it down. “Doubtful. It’s a question of honor, not love.”
Joc seized her by the shoulders and spun her around. “Why do you say that? Do you consider yourself unlovable?”
“Stop it, Joc.” She wriggled free of his hold. “This isn’t about love, and you know it. Lander feels responsible. He pursued me after I tried to end things between us, pushed us into an affair—not that I required much pushing. It’s only natural that when the press found out about us, he felt honor bound to act. He practically told me as much.”
“Bull.”
She drew herself up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Do you think I’d be so easily trapped into a marriage I didn’t want? Hell, no. Nor would Lander. He could have found some other solution if he’d wanted. A less extreme one than announcing your engagement.” Joc planted his fists on his hips and lowered his head in thought. “Didn’t you tell me Lander had his mother’s ring on him.”
“Right. It was in his pocket. So?”
“So…” Joc lifted his head and pinned her with a keen gaze. “So, what was it doing in his pocket?”
She stared blankly. “I…I don’t know.” How had it ended up there? She struggled to recall. “I handed it to him when we were at the museum. And I think he stuck it into his pocket instead of returning it to the display case.”
“Wait a minute. Take me through this step-by-step. His mother’s engagement ring was at a museum, the national one here in Mt. Roche?”
“Yes. He was showing me the crown jewels after hours last night.”
Joc cocked an inquiring eyebrow. “Just showing? If it was all just showing, how did the ring end up outside the case? There had to be a bit of touching going on for that to happen.”
“Okay, fine,” she responded defensively. “Maybe I was also trying on some of the pieces.”
He grinned. “Montgomery let you wear the crown jewels of Verdonia?”
“He might have.” Her cheeks warmed. “No big deal.”
“Yes, it is a big deal. Have you any idea how much expense and effort that would take to secure the premises so you two could play?” Joc glanced at her finger, then frowned. “Speaking of your engagement ring. Where is it?”
“I sent it back.”
“Damn it, Juliana!”
“That’s enough, Joc. The subject isn’t open for debate. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a pack of reporters gathering outside my apartment. It would look odd if I wore Lander’s engagement ring to a press conference announcing the end of our engagement.”
She turned her back on her brother and started to pull her hair into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck until a memory of Lander tossing her clip into the shrubbery intruded. She hesitated, combing her fingers through the strands and watching the curls riot around her face and shoulders. Maybe she’d leave her hair loose. Just this once.
Joc came to stand behind her. “Okay, I won’t debate the matter with you or try and explain why you’re the biggest idiot I ever met. But I’d think, at the very least, you’d be curious to know why Lander stuck that ring in his pocket instead of returning it to the display case. Admit it. Aren’t you curious?”
“No, I’m not.” She glared at her reflection. She was being ridiculous. The only reason she wanted to leave her hair loose was because Lander liked it that way. With ruthless intent, she scraped back every last curl, anchoring the weighty mass with a spare clip. “He could have been stealing the ring, I suppose.”
“Very funny.” Joc leaned in, whispering close to her ear, “Maybe he took it because he’d been planning to propose all along.”
Hope flamed anew. Was it possible? It did explain his keeping the ring. The next instant pain subdued every last spark of hope. No, no, no. She didn’t dare allow herself to think along those lines. She’d drive herself crazy wondering about the what-might-have-beens. What might have been if she didn’t bear the Arnaud name. If she hadn’t been illegitimate. If she hadn’t fallen for a scam artist and ruined her reputation beyond repair. She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on her one and only goal—protecting Lander.
“I have to go.” She turned to confront her brother. Stubborn determination had settled into the crevices of his face, warning he wouldn’t easily give up the argument. She didn’t understand it. Why was he pushing this? She released her breath in a sigh. “What do you want, Joc? I mean, really.”
“I want you to stay away from the press for a few days. Allow the situation time to settle down.”
“You mean, do nothing?” She couldn’t believe he was suggesting such a thing. “You always taught me that whenever a problem arose, you had to deal with it right away, before it had a chance to escalate. That’s what I’m doing. Besides, if I don’t act now, Lander will be the one paying the consequences. There’s not much more the press can do to me.”
“You don’t give your fiancé enough credit.”
“My fiancé,” she repeated. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you up to? I would have thought you’d do everything possible to help me straighten out this mess, instead of throwing up roadblocks to maintain the status quo.”
“I just want you happy. And I think Lander will make you happy.”
Her expression softened. “That’s sweet, especially considering your earlier opinion.” She raised on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for caring.”
“You aren’t going to listen to me though, are you?”
“I can’t. There’s too much at stake. An entire country at risk.”
She checked the mirror a final time. She’d chosen to wear her most conservative dress, the unrelenting black of the raw silk relieved by a simple strand of pearls and matching earrings. She’d also kept her makeup to a minimum, just a hint of blush, a swipe of mascara and a touch of lip gloss. Satisfied, she collected her purse and turned to leave.
“Are you coming?” she asked her brother. “Or am I on my own?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. If you need me, I’ll be right behind you.”
Her mouth twisted wryly. “Lurking in the shadows?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I do my best work from there.”
Juliana took the elevator to the lobby, struggling with nerves. It didn’t help that each blinking number mocked her descent, as
though marking her fall from grace. She dreaded the next fifteen minutes with a passion that left her shaking. She couldn’t think of anything worse than facing a horde of frenzied reporters. But she’d do it. She didn’t have any other choice.
The doors parted, opening like the gates to hell. “Here goes nothing,” she murmured bleakly.
She walked steadily across the lobby. The media circus milled just beyond the double glass doors with two uniformed apartment security guards all that kept them from storming the building. Sparing her brother a hunted look, she forced herself to push open the doors. Just as she stepped outside, she felt something tug at the back of her head, and the next instant her hair sprang free. Damn it! Somehow she’d lost her clip, not that she could do anything about it now.
A stray breeze kicked up as she stepped onto the landing outside the doorway, and fiery curls rioted about her face and shoulders. She shoved at the windswept barrage, then gave it up as a lost cause. Forcing herself to move forward, she paused at the head of the steps that led down into the sea of journalists. More than just journalists, she realized with a start. People from all walks of life swelled the press corps ranks. How had they known she’d be here, giving a press conference? Someone must have tipped them off.
A late-afternoon sun spotlighted her, shining into her eyes, which proved a blessing in disguise since it made it impossible to pick out individual faces. Questions pelted her from the moment she appeared, so many she couldn’t single out one from another. She lifted a hand, and the clamor died to an unnerving silence, giving her an opportunity to speak.
“Thank you all for coming.” She hesitated at the top of the steps, relieved to have at least that much space between her and the seething mob. Since her voice carried well from her position, she elected to remain where she was. “I’d like to make a statement, after which I will not be taking any questions.”
Steady. She could do this. She had to; there was no other choice. “I’m here to announce that I’m formally breaking my engagement to Prince Lander. I’d like to assure all of you that I am both honored and flattered by His Highness’s proposal and I wish—” To her horror her voice broke and it took her a heartbeat to gather up her control once again. She felt Joc edge closer and signaled him that she was okay and to stay back. “And I wish circumstances could have been different. Unfortunately, I wasn’t forthcoming about my background with Prince Lander. He had no idea of my true identity when he proposed, since I was using my first and middle name in an attempt to protect my anonymity.”
