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Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4)

Page 8

by Long, Heather


  A blush heated her skin at the blatant sensuality in his voice. “I really don’t think I want to be bare-assed nude when anyone on your staff comes in…and I thought we could eat downstairs. Maybe on the pretty patio…”

  Bastian followed her off the bed and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him and he nuzzled a kiss to neck. “Let me tell you a secret. Outside of this room, there are a lot of people. If we step out, we have to spend time with them. I’d rather not share you with anyone.”

  A part of her thrilled at the possessiveness in his romantic declaration, but hiding behind closed doors didn’t appeal to her. She hesitated and Bastian turned her around and kissed her, the claiming in his action curling her toes and kindling a fresh wave of heat. He growled, and his grin turned playful. “Go shower, darling, but take your time so I can join you.”

  He grabbed his pants and shirt and, by the time she reached the bathroom door, he’d stepped out of the room. Meredith let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Stepping right up to the porcelain countertop, she braced her hands against it and stared at herself in the mirror. From her tousled hair to her kiss-swollen lips, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.

  How was it possible they’d ended up there? Her stomach clenched at the memory. Why couldn’t she tell him all the thoughts in her head? What held her tongue every single time? Glancing back into the bedroom, she spotted the disheveled sheets and sighed. She tingled everywhere he’d touched her. All she had to do was close her eyes and the memory of his caresses swept over her.

  Only a few hours since she’d struggled desperately to get him out of her mind. To let go of what could never be. Yet, here she was, craving heating her blood. She knew the moment he slid into the shower with her—hell, who was she kidding? If he looked at her she’d want him again. Sebastian Dagmar, prince and Grand Duke of the Andraste dynasty, turned her brains to mush and liquefied her intelligence.

  He’d just said he was glad she hadn’t been with him, implying it wasn’t her place. Despite being hundreds of miles from the press, he didn’t want her to leave the room.

  Maybe he just wants to be with me? She turned away from the mirror, unwilling to look at the pathetic gleam in her own eyes.

  She switched on the shower and, while the water heated, retrieved an unopened toothbrush left on the counter—for her. Staring at the packaging, she sighed. He’d made all the arrangements. Of course he’d used Andraste influence or someone else’s to coax the university. He’d sent Kate to do the negotiations, make the travel arrangements, and lured her halfway around the world. Every detail, from her travel visas to her leave from the university, smoothed flawlessly and they’d even set out a toothbrush.

  And why wouldn’t they? She was a sure thing. After brushing her teeth, she slid under the pounding of the hot water and bent her head. He did go to so much trouble, and he said he wanted to see me. That has to count for something, doesn’t it? She so longed to believe it, but did she want to believe it because it was true or because I’m a mistress and I’m in love.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  Chapter Six

  Meredith puzzled him. Her concentrated frown on the gardens sprawling beyond the windows was not the expression he’d expected. But then nothing she’d done since arriving on St. Christos followed presumed convention or her normal behavior. Truthfully, nothing she’d done since she’d called him in Los Angeles matched what he knew of her. He felt her withdrawal and it was far more than physical. Sometime between her shower and his return, she’d erected an emotional wall between them.

  He hated it. Maybe the wall was why he couldn’t quite keep his hands to himself and why he’d angled his chair to crowd into her space.

  “You’re staring at me.” She picked up her coffee cup and cut a sideways look at him. The corners of her eyes crinkled, but it was tension, not amusement.

  “I like looking at you.” He spoke bluntly. A blush pinkened her cheeks and he smiled. Candor was rare in his life. His every statement had to be vetted for potential impact, but he’d never felt the need to censor himself with Meredith. He disliked intensely the sensation he should begin. Catching a lock of her hair, he smoothed the strands between his thumb and forefinger.

  She laughed and set the mug down, turning her attention to him finally. “You’re impossible.”

  “I assure you, for you, I am infinitely possible.”

  Her gaze locked on his, searching, and he willed for her to find what she needed. A wordless pulse raced through him, a need so visceral and base it assaulted the very core of his civility. He understood why monarchs of old locked their women up where no one else could get to them. It wasn’t a lack of trust or faith, merely a desire to possess.

  God, he wanted to possess Meredith. Every thought, every moment of every day. He wanted to stamp his ownership so clearly no one would dare touch her. Yet doing so painted a target on her, and he’d learned a brutal truth by watching Anna’s life upend because he’d made a phone call to force his brother’s hand.

  “And now you’re scowling.” Meredith almost sighed and Sebastian fought to get his emotions back into check, smoothing over his face. The last thing he wanted was to push her away. “Bastian—”

  “Meredith.” He nearly spoke over her and bit back his next words. “Please…go on.”

  She paused, studying him. “It’s all right, you were about to say something.”

  Accepting the invitation, he shifted in his seat and caught her hand in his. The warm satin of her skin as enticing as it was comforting. He never tired of touching her. “I know we have issues, and perhaps I haven’t been the most accessible of late, but I want to repair any injury between us.”

  It was a testament to his self-control that he didn’t pick her up and take her to bed. There, at least, he knew exactly how to please her. If he drowned her in pleasure, she might reconsider the notion of leaving him altogether.

  When she didn’t outright reject his statement, he pressed on. “I want to spend time with you and get it right. I know we bent the truth to get you here.”

  “If you define bent as lied then, yes, you did.” Did he detect a trace of a smile in her voice? The corners of her mouth twitched, but it was the gleam of humor in her eyes which ultimately betrayed her.

  “Very well, I lied. I cheated. I facilitated fraud in order to secure your time for a few days.” Considering it was only a small portion of what he was willing to do to get her to see him, he saw no reason to avoid admitting it.

  “And you’re not remotely sorry, are you?” Despite the implied chastisement, her eyes continued to warm.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not in the slightest. You are here. This—us together—was and is the goal.”

  “Hmm.” She reached for her coffee mug and glanced at the grounds. “It’s impossible to be angry with you, even when I am.”

  A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So I am forgiven for the charade?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” But the smile she’d been fighting began to break free. “I really did want to do the project. Return Times are a fascinating challenge.”

  “Then I’ll make sure you do it. Daniel really seemed fascinated by the whole idea.” Hell, he’d finance a hundred puzzles for her to solve.

  “Daniel?” Her smile faltered.

  “Voldakov—”

  “The owner of Spherecast.” Meredith warmed considerably and, for the first time since they’d sat down to eat, she leaned toward him. “Did you know he actually developed an algorithm based on one of my papers?”

  “Did he?” Captivated by the excitement reflected in her eyes, he fought the surge of irrational jealousy. The mention of Daniel put the light into her eyes. Daniel. Another man.

  “Yes.” She laughed, a giddy sound, and the tension stiffening her spine went loose. “It was all very fascinating, but he applied one of my theories to a program he was building. It uses base algorithms to ident
ify information chunks and reconstruct an entire server’s worth of data based on stringing data theory which presupposes individual chunking of data bits will have similar bases. Then, by identifying the primary numbers and matching, you should be able to reconstruct a problem by piecing together the solution. It was a delightful challenge.”

  Enthusiasm shimmered in every word, her face warmed, and pure delight rippled in her laugh. “Of course, application and theory are wholly different beasts and we maintained a regular correspondence during his software build so he could get my input on troubleshooting.”

  “I didn’t know you were involved in his work.” He hadn’t. Of course, it explained Daniel’s excitement when Sebastian mentioned Meredith. “What other projects have you done?”

  “A few. A lot of my work is theoretical, but there are people out there who see beyond the numbers. More than one company has approached me with a proprietary interest.” She settled back in the chair and played with his fingers.

  Pleased by the contact, he allowed himself the pleasure of stroking his thumb against the side of her hand. “You believe information should be in the public domain.” Of this, he was absolutely certain. In fact, her belief and speech on the subject had actually been the source of their very first debate.

  “You remembered?” Why did it surprise her? The haze of pleasure in her eyes sent a jolt through him.

  “Of course I do. I remember everything about the night we met. You wore a cream dress. It was perfectly understated and hugged your curves so well I was envious of it.” It had been a boring, obsequious event. One which held no interest for him, but he’d attended because Armand was in the process of launching a series of clinics and refused to reschedule for an event which only required a family face to be seen.

  “That dress. Lord, I’d almost forgotten about the dress.” She covered her mouth and her face went a deeper pink, but her eyes darkened with arousal.

  “I loved how you looked in it,” he told her, perfectly aware of where her thoughts went. “I loved how you looked when I ripped it off you even more.” In their enthusiasm, they’d been too impatient to take the time when the zipper jammed. Meredith laughed and he lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

  “I thought for sure I would have to return to my room in a towel. You didn’t even leave my panties intact.” Her eyes widened.

  Still grinning at the memory, he shrugged. “You didn’t need clothes for the next several hours.”

  “Hours? Try days. Three days we stayed in your suite. I didn’t know how I would ever explain to my department head why I’d missed so many of the conference lectures. Thank God they recorded all of them.” She laughed.

  “We were having fun,” he told her, sobering. “Stay with me, and let’s find that fun again—you and I.”

  Her amusement shifted to thoughtful consideration. “I don’t know if we can. We’re not those people anymore.”

  “Yes, we are,” he argued, cupping her face and pressing his forehead to hers. “We are exactly who we were then. I am still as crazy for you today as I was the night we met. In fact, I’m showing great restraint by not stripping you naked and having you for breakfast.”

  Her breath hitched at the declaration. “Sex has never been our problem, but it can’t be the basis for a relationship.”

  “Why not?” Their conversation was too important. She was too important. “Do you know how many relationships out there simply make do? We work, you and me. I can be myself with you, no pretenses. I know it hasn’t been easy, and I don’t pretend to understand everything you’ve gone through, but I need you, Meredith. Stay with me. Give me these next few days. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

  They needed time together, time to repair the damage of the last year. He’d kept her at arm’s length while he recovered. Not his first choice, and one he recognized as a mistake. He’d reasoned it was to protect her, which was true, to a point.

  She sighed and tugged her hand from his. Rising, Meredith paced to the glass and folded her arms, staring out into the garden. Though she’d been the one to pull away, she looked so alone and forlorn he couldn’t stay in his chair. Moving behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his chest.

  “I know I’m asking for a lot.” And if taking his pride in hand to beg would help, well, he would.

  “Oh Bastian…” She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against his shoulder. It wasn’t capitulation, not yet. Her brow creased with a frown, and she bit at her lip. She hadn’t surrendered, but she considered it. “How does this even work? We’re not going to solve anything hiding away in your room.”

  They weren’t hiding, but he let it go for the moment and concentrated on her question. “We spend time together. We talk about what is important to you, what is important to me. We get to know each other again…” Remember what drew them together in the first place because, though his feelings were far from waning, maybe hers had.

  It kicked him square in the gut to consider the possibility, but she lived an entire life he wasn’t part of—a career she was proud of and work she thrived on. Loosening his grip, he coaxed her to turn. “Maybe you could even explain your last paper to me, the one on class polynomials.”

  “The research was only released last month.” Disbelief warred with surprise and she gave him a wondering look. “How did you know about my paper?”

  “I have every paper you’ve ever published and subscriptions to all the major journals.” Needing to prove the point, he kissed the tip of her nose and took her hand, tugging her gently. “Come.”

  His briefcase was downstairs in the office he used when he was on the island. He hadn’t planned to do any work whatsoever, but with Meredith in tow, he led the way down the staircase, past the open drawing room and reception hall, to a private hallway. Armand’s office was also located in the same section and, though another was reserved for George, his youngest brother never darkened the doorway of the office.

  At the entrance to the dark-wood paneled room, Bastian had to release her in order to open the double doors. Inside, he was gratified when she not only let him take her hand again, but threaded her fingers through his. Guiding her across the room, he paused at the oversized cherry wood desk and unlocked his briefcase with a three-digit combination.

  “913.” Meredith’s little gasp dragged his attention to her. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

  “Yes.” He gave her a small smile. “I told you, I remember everything.” 913 was his suite number. He’d discovered the best woman in the world behind those doors. Sentimental perhaps, but he considered it his lucky number.

  She sniffed then gave him a smile that threatened to stop his heart. Leaning into him, her breasts brushed his arm and her fingers tightened against his. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice husky and soft. “I am pretty sure this isn’t what you dragged me down here to see.”

  It took him a moment to even remember why they’d come into his office. Dropping his gaze to her lips, he gave into temptation and bent his head to kiss her. The moment their mouths brushed, electricity sizzled in his nervous system and threatened to short-circuit his brain. Leashing the raging desire firing in his blood, he lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “No, the briefcase isn’t what I wanted to show you.”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled and she laughed. “You take my breath away.”

  “Ditto,” he told her solemnly and forced himself to open the case and pull out the journal of the American Mathematical Society. He held it up for her inspection. “See, I read everything you do.”

  Her mouth went slack and her earlier tears threatened again, one splashing down her cheek. “Why?”

  “Why what, darling?” He hated her tears, hated them. He wanted to make them go away.

  “If you—this…why do you read everything I write?”

  Did she truly not understand?

  Sebastian slid into a chair and tugged her into his lap, giving into
the desire he’d been struggling with since he’d seen her again to enfold her close. He wanted her near always. “Because you wrote it. You.” It really summed up everything for him.

  Meredith stared down at the journal and then up at him. She was wavering.

  “Say yes, Meredith.” It was a calculated risk, ordering her. She could still tell him no. “Say you’ll stay. Say you’ll give me these few days. I know we can make this work.”

  Closing her eyes, she bowed her head, but she didn’t pull away. If anything she moved closer and fisted his shirt in her hand. “Do you really think we can?” Hope and longing so mirroring his own twined in her question.

  “I know we can,” he told her, resolved. “Say. Yes.”

  She opened her eyes, brought her face to his and kissed him. He welcomed the slow, tentative invasion of her tongue and tangled his hand in her hair. Kissing her was an erotic pleasure. He indulged his senses, lapping up the taste of her sweetness while reveling in how she bloomed to his touch.

  “Say yes,” he told her between long, strokes of his tongue against hers. When she finally broke the kiss and lifted her head, he experienced the weight of her study all the way to his bones.

  Whatever she’d seen must have satisfied her because she exhaled with a beaming smile. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Relief flooded him.

  “Yes,” she repeated and then laughed when he crushed her close. “Yes, Bastian. Yes.”

  Time. She’d given him time. Thank God.

  Still in his lap, she shifted to claim the journal issue, which had included the title of her research on the cover. Sebastian rested one hand on her hip and massaged her nape with the other. First his insistence they could work this out, then the combination lock to his briefcase—the number of the suite where they’d ended up spending three hedonistic days in total lust with each other—then the journal. Her emotions seesawed all over the place.

  “Where did you go?” Sebastian’s quiet question tugged her from the memory of their first weekend.

 

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