Her nose wrinkled and her jaw tightened. He recognized the signs of her temper and he couldn’t listen to another word of her argument. Not when she insulted him and herself in the same breath.
“Sebastian—”
“Be silent.” He cut her off and, while it flew in the face of everything he believed and he’d never allow another to speak to her in the same tone, he needed to hold onto the rapidly fraying ends of his temper before he said something they would both regret. Stalking forward, he invaded her space and stared down at her. “You are not my mistress. Not now. Not ever. I do not pretend when I am with you…”
Her mouth opened then snapped shut again with a click of her teeth.
Satisfied when she elected to not interrupt him, he fisted his hands in his pockets. He wanted to drag her close and kiss her until he blasted the ludicrous idea out of her head, but it wouldn’t address the problem. If the solution were so easy, they’d have already dealt with it. “I have never pretended when I am with you.” With Meredith, he got to be the man, not the prince, and how the hell could she not know how precious she was to him? “And your place?” His breath hitched. “I don’t even know what the hell that means. The only place I’ve ever wanted you is with me.” Even then, he’d denied himself.
Mutiny shimmered in her eyes, but she only lifted her eyebrows in silent inquiry.
“Yes, please—answer.” Frustration corded his muscles. He clenched his fists until two of his knuckles popped.
“One, don’t ever tell me to be silent again.” She didn’t bother to disguise her quiet fury and, damn she was beautiful when riled. “Two, you never have to pretend with me? Good to know. I’ve only ever seen you behind closed doors where no one else can see you. Since I never get to be on your arm in a crowd, I wouldn’t know how you behave socially, now would I? And, yes, I know you want me with you, but only when you want me, where you want me, and how you want. You make all the decisions. You—” Her voice cracked, pitching high for a moment. “You decide. You get hurt and I hear nothing for days, only a cryptic message passed from your bodyguard to Terry saying you were alive. I got one five-minute phone call and then nothing. I’m not an idiot,” she repeated, as though she needed to illustrate the point. “For five years, Sebastian, five years, I’ve been your dirty little secret. Maybe that’s enough for some women. Hell, maybe it was enough for me, but I want more than private assignations and stolen days.”
Her words arrested him and she paused, releasing a shaky little laugh dipped in tears. “I want more.” Spreading her arms, she lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I love you, but I can’t do this anymore—”
She offered him heaven and hell rolled together. Forcing his fists to release, he dragged his hands from his pockets and caught her arms. “Meredith, you’re not my mistress. I have never thought of you in that manner.”
“You don’t have to think of someone like that to treat them that way.” She flattened her hands against his chest, but didn’t attempt to push him away. “You don’t have to think of them at all. I get it. I’m neither glamorous nor pedigreed, but, Bastian, I’m so tired of spending every single holiday alone because you have to make an appearance. I’m tired of not being able to tell my family about you, or my friends. Or having to endure one more set up because I’m always partnered with the single guy who spends an evening trying to impress me. I can’t tell them I’m not interested or to leave me alone because I’m involved. Why? Because then people will ask questions and I can’t answer them.”
“Why the hell not?” The last tenuous grasp he held on his temper frayed and snapped. Just how many times was she partnered with other men? And why was this the first time he was hearing of it? “Why not tell them you’re involved with someone?”
“Because then they’ll ask me who, and what can I say?” she fired back.
“I don’t know, Meredith, what do you want to say?” He zeroed in on her expression, the high color in her cheeks, the way her teeth kept gnashing at her lower lip. Twice in the length of their relationship he’d seen her truly angry and never before at him. However, he’d done nothing to deserve her level of ire.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, my boyfriend is Sebastian Dagmar. You know, the prince? The one dating a new model every week? It’s all a front, he’s really with me. You see, he made it very clear from the get-go we should be circumspect. He said we have to keep it quiet or risk having everything about our lives splashed all over the tabloids.”
“I never asked you to keep me a secret from your family.” He wanted to shake her and the moment the urge gripped him, he released her to back away a pace. A movement caught his eye. O’Connor left his position on the garden’s edge and headed in their direction.
As if noticing him was all it took, Vidal appeared in the periphery to intercept the other man.
“Really? And you didn’t keep me a secret from yours?” Meredith’s accusation jerked his attention back to her. Vidal would deal with O’Connor, but, if the man persisted, then Sebastian would give into his urge to hit something—him.
“I didn’t tell Armand about you, nor George. One had the power to forbid me from seeing you, the other is an idiot at times, not to mention too young to understand the risk.” He blew out a breath and walked three steps toward the bougainvillea they’d imported. “I told you what would happen if we went public,” he said quietly. “Because I wanted you to understand how your life might change, and I wouldn’t do anything without your consent. I wouldn’t take the choice from you.”
“I never had a choice—”
“Yes,” he grated out the words. “You did. You have always had a choice, but my life isn’t simple or uncomplicated. The threats we face are real, the invasion of privacy is real, and the need to protect what is ours—mine—is very real.” How could she think she was his mistress? So far, she’d thrown his appearances into his face twice. Cold dread pitted in his stomach. “Meredith?”
“What?” Frustrated exhaustion hung off the word.
Turning, he eyed her. She looked every bit as upset as he felt. “The women—the ones in the articles and the news stories? Do you think they were all my lovers?”
She stiffened, her chin came up, but her lower lip trembled and betrayed her. The ground beneath his feet sheared away. She thought so little of him, of who they were together, she didn’t believe he’d been faithful. The roaring in his ears returned and he swallowed his next words because he wouldn’t ask the obvious question. Had she been faithful to him?
O’Connor’s interest and overstepping behavior made a sick sort of sense. He wanted to kill the man.
“Bastian…” She took a step toward him, but he held up his hand and backed away. He didn’t trust himself to touch her or be touched by her. His control shredded utterly, to be replaced by a fury so primal it defied description. “I—I never wanted to think it.”
“But you did. And you do.” The corner of his mouth twisted up. How cruel was life? In protecting the one person who meant everything to him, he’d convinced her he thought so little of her, thereby making her believe him to be a ruthless bastard. The damn roaring invaded his thoughts and he turned. It wasn’t just in his head. He heard the sound of rotors.
“Your Highness!” The shout came from behind him as a helicopter surged overhead. Light glinted off metal. Spinning, Bastian hurtled himself at Meredith, tackling her to the ground as explosions of rock and earth blew up around them.
Chaos erupted and the cacophony deafened her. Sebastian slammed into her and the air whooshed out of her lungs. He pressed her into the dirt, his whole body covering hers. Someone shouted then a half-dozen men closed around them. Bastian was peeled away and hands seized her then suddenly she raced toward the house, yet her feet never touched the ground.
Ears ringing, she stumbled when she landed inside a windowless room. Sebastian pulled her against him, his arms like steel bands. Glancing up, she could see his mouth moving, but the words were almost i
ndistinct. He put his hand on her cheek, studying her eyes.
“I can’t—” God, even her voice sounded odd, muffled. “Can’t—understand you at the moment.”
He nodded once then began running his hands over her hair, down her face. When he continued to her shoulders, arms, and chest, she realized, rather belatedly, he verified she wasn’t injured.
“I’m okay,” she told him and wished like hell the buzzing ring in her ears would stop. Sebastian continued, undeterred, and only when he was satisfied she wasn’t injured did he drag her close again. “I’m okay. Are you?” When she would have checked him with the same thoroughness, he refused to let her go. Instead, he carried her to a low sofa, then sat, holding her in his lap.
His heart raced like a freight train, pounding as though it planned to beat its way out of his chest. Studying the line of his profile, she found his gaze fixed on the door, jaw clenched. Bit by bit, the pieces of the past few minutes began to fit together.
“Someone shot at us—at you.” She didn’t even realize she’d said it out loud until Bastian’s gaze pinned hers. His cool remoteness melted away. The muscles in his arms tensed and she realized she was shaking. The trembling seized her from head to toe and tears splashed down her cheeks. They’d shot at Bastian. Right in front of her, from a helicopter. They would never have had a chance at the shot if she stayed inside.
He crushed her to him and she held on. “I’m sorry. Oh my God, I’m sorry—” She could have gotten him killed. With one hand buried in her hair, and another pressed against her back, his touch soothed her, but couldn’t ease the violent shaking.
Fisting his shirt, she buried her face against his neck. The warm masculine scent of him reminded her just how close she’d come to losing him. Again. Before—when he’d been hurt—he’d been so far away and she’d been so damned helpless to do anything for him. Her helplessness eventually turned to anger. Today? Today I was right there and utterly useless.
Bit-by-bit, the humming in her ears dulled and the sound of Bastian’s ragged breaths punched through her, accompanied by the sweetest sound of his calming words. “We’re all right, Meredith. We’re secure for now. It’s all right.” She didn’t know how long he’d recited the refrain, but it worked to unlock the cramps in her shoulders and her neck.
“They tried to kill you,” she whispered, horrified.
“I know. It’s all right. We’re all right.”
“No, it’s not.” When she leaned away again, he loosened his hold, but only just barely. “Sebastian, they were shooting at you.”
He regarded her gravely. “I know, darling. They weren’t only shooting at me. What happened today, I never wanted to happen while you were with me.”
“How often does it happen?” How could she be completely clueless about it? Sure, he had security, bodyguards, drivers, and rules. He’d always employed a lot of security, but she’d never grasped the reality of it.
With a sigh, he stroked her cheek. “More often than I care to admit. We often downplay it and, if we can, we avoid it being reported at all.”
“But, why?” One plus one equaled a big bloody mess, and the math didn’t compute.
“Most of the time, attacks are the work of the mentally ill or the politically motivated. Advertising what happened due to someone who is emotionally or mentally unbalanced does no favors for anyone and the politically motivated want the attention, so we deny them the satisfaction. It dilutes the possibility of copycats.” The gentle rub of his thumb along her jaw helped unlock another layer of tension, but her stomach twisted with worry.
“Your stabbing wasn’t the only attempt on your life.” It wasn’t a question.
He looked almost apologetic. “No.”
She still tried to sort through information when the tumble of locks sounded. Sebastian lifted her up, away, and rose to stand between her and the door so swiftly she barely had time to process his motion. His white shirt did little to disguise the coiled line of his muscles or the level of threat emanating from him.
This wasn’t her playful lover, but someone far more dangerous and powerful. A light flashed from red to green on a panel next to the door then it opened. Eduard Vidal entered and closed the door behind him. “Your Highness, do either of you require the doctor?”
“Send for him. Meredith should be examined.” Sebastian’s tone was grim.
“I’m fine,” she began to protest, but Sebastian hushed her with a single look.
“You’re in shock.” He returned to the sofa and slid his hand along her nape. Yes, her heart was racing and she was still panting, but she didn’t think she was so bad, was she? Holding up her hand, she stared at the violent trembling seizing her fingers.
Okay, maybe she was.
Eduard pressed two fingers to his earpiece. “The physician is on the yacht. We can take you both there immediately. We’ve already called for our helicopter.”
“Kate flew out first thing this morning. Is she secure?” The mention of the other woman jolted Meredith and she gripped Sebastian’s wrist, holding on for dear life.
“Yes, sir. Miss Braddock is fine. We sustained a couple of injuries and we’ve notified Greek authorities about the damaged craft. It was smoking when it flew away.” Eduard paused and Meredith glanced up to see the censure on Bastian’s face a moment before the bodyguard switched to Norwegian.
“Who was hurt?” Meredith wanted to know. Sebastian might have been the target, but there were other people out there—bodyguards and maybe some of the house staff. She’d been too busy arguing to pay attention.
Instead of answering her immediately, Sebastian continued to massage the back of her neck and looked at Eduard. “How long?”
“Ten minutes. I want you both in vests. We’ll handle everything else.” The man nodded and let himself back out, the light flashing back to red when the door sealed. It was a panic room. The belated realization seemed to come from some distant part of her mind which persisted in trying to sort through the data.
Sitting back down, Bastian pulled her into his lap once more. “Meredith, I need you to focus on me.”
“I am.” Why did he keep acting like she wasn’t? She shifted in his grip and faced him. He was so beautiful, dark and haunted. She’d been so angry with him and now all she wanted to do was hold him and make sure he was all right.
“Your breathing is still off.” He frowned. “Concentrate, slow breaths. In for a count of four and then out for a count of four.”
Of course, she could count to four. She tried to obey, but the air seemed to back up in lungs, and she let it out with a whoosh. The quivering sensation was everywhere and icy heat slid over her skin. “You’re scaring me. What happened? Who was hurt?”
“O’Connor was hit in the shoulder. He has lost a lot of blood, but two of my men are field medics—Meredith, breathe.” The last two came out on a whip of command and she sucked in a noisy gasp and then another under his implacable stare. He exhaled slowly with a nod and continued to rub her back. “They’ve stopped the bleeding, but he will be on the transport. We have a physician and a fully appointed medical bay on the yacht. He will be all right.”
The roaring was back in her ears again. “I have to see him—” This is my fault. He was hurt because of her. She’d chosen to go outside. If not for her, none of it would have happened.
“You will, you will.” Sebastian didn’t let her go. “In a few minutes, they’ll bring us bulletproof vests. You will put it on.” His tone brooked no arguments. “We’ll leave as soon as the helicopter lands. They’re securing the landing pad right now.”
She clutched onto the control in his words. “Should we leave? I mean if they sent a helicopter before…?”
“This is a stationary target and they’ve never come at us here before, but things are changing and changing swiftly. The yacht is mobile and easier to secure. We’ll also be able to see anything coming at us.” He sounded so matter-of-fact and calm.
“I’m sorry I’m not handl
ing this well.” She wanted to do better. “I’ve never—no one’s ever shot at me before and why? Why would they? It’s like something out of a movie.” A bad movie, a terrible thing, and Bastian? He’d taken her all the way to the ground. He’d covered her so they wouldn’t hurt her. Flashes of ice and flame consumed her.
“Meredith.” The command in his voice snapped through her again and she blinked, bringing his face back to into focus. “Breathe.”
Aggravation at her weakness flared. She was a wreck while he was a rock. “How can you be so calm?”
“I am not calm,” he said in oblique fashion, but the door locks tumbled again and once more Sebastian rose. Instead of setting her on the sofa, he put her on her feet. He stayed between her and the door.
Eduard entered and passed over a vest. Bastian took care to help her into the oppressive item. It weighed more than she expected, but he made sure it was secure before sliding on his and covering it with a jacket.
“ETA?” Sebastian asked.
“We’re ready now. His Royal Highness was notified and has handled security arrangements for the rest of the family. They are all secure. The yacht is holding a stationary course and we’ll confirm once we’re in the air.”
Sebastian pressed a hand to her face. “Stay with security…”
“What? Where are you going?” She hated the needy sound invading her voice.
“Shh.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will be with you, but we’re going in separate cars with separate details. Vidal will be in charge of yours.”
Which was apparently news to the other man. Shock rippled Vidal’s normally placid expression, but he seemed to recover quickly.
“You will listen to him, and do exactly as he tells you to do. As soon as we’re onboard the helicopter, we’ll be together again.” He dragged her close and kissed her hard enough to steal her breath then he was gone. She was shuffled into the center of a half dozen very large men, but her heart was in her throat because she could think of only one reason he wouldn’t ride in the same car with her.
Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4) Page 10
