Dimitri scowled. He hadn’t considered that. These people had too much time on their hands. Instead, he changed tacks. “How are you feeling?”
“Remarkably well, actually.” She smiled, and it was all he could do to keep his expression steady. Lauren Grant was pretty all the time, but she was heartbreaking when she smiled the way she was now, without art or intent. She reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then laid the back of her hand against her mouth, stifling a yawn. In that moment, she could have been any young woman, from any background, wrapped up in a blanket at a college sleepover.
Then, of course, she had to keep talking.
Her brow arched in a smug curve. “Are you seriously stuck being my babysitter tonight? Out of all the jobs in Garronia, that’s what they assigned you to?”
“You would be so lucky.” The words were out before he could stop them, and his movement seemed unstoppable as well. He leaned closer with a smooth, almost predatory shift, and the American’s hand froze mid-drop, her eyes fixed on him. “Tonight I was out and heard the commotion, and I thought to myself: who would be stupid enough to rouse up the locals at this bar that is usually so quiet, making them spend their hard-earned cash when ordinarily they are careful souls?”
As if remembering that her hand hung between them, she shifted it once more to her hair, then lowered it as she tried to back away from him, retreating more deeply into the plush cushions. “You must have been hearing something different than I did, then. The patrons of that establishment were already half-drunk when I got there. I never did catch up.”
“And God help you if you did.” The anger was back, and he welcomed it. Anger he could understand, manage. Anger had purpose and form. And this woman definitely made him angry, he decided. That was the emotion coursing through him, he was certain of it.
She seemed to welcome it as well and leaned forward now, her lips inches from his. “You really dislike me,” she said, her words a low purr. “What did I ever do to upset you so much?”
He held himself locked in place. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t waste my time being upset by people like you.”
“Mmm.” God help her, she wouldn’t leave it alone. She moved forward another inch, and now her lips were brushing his, the warm, vital scent of her filling his senses. His entire body demanded that he take her, and Dimitri’s reality was narrowed down, focused on the tiny point where their mouths connected. “I wish you liked me more, though. I really do.”
She would have pressed forward, but Dimitri reacted to the sound almost before he could process what it was, who it was. He jerked straight and turned, rising to his feet and taking three strides across the floor before the petite dynamo of Nicole Clark burst into the room, her eyes bright and wide, her body practically quivering the way it always did, as if she was constantly high on caffeine.
“Lauren!” She burst out, hurrying forward. “My God, girl, what are you doing here? We’ve been worried about you. Did you go out—she went out, didn’t she? I knew she did.” Midsentence, Nicki transferred her gaze to Dimitri. “You had to fetch her.”
“No one had to ‘fetch’ me.” Dimitri turned back to the blonde, unsurprised that she’d also risen to her feet, the blanket thrust aside like garbage, her purse clutched to her side. “Dimitri was out, and was kind enough to walk me home.”
She nodded to him, but her eyes glittered with something he had seen before. Something that set every nerve ending alive with anticipation. She was using his attraction for her to distract him, but in doing so had betrayed her own interest all too clearly…
Lauren Grant was hiding something.
He intended to find out what.
Chapter Four
“We can’t stay here forever, right?” Nicki sat forward with her elbows on her knees, swiveling her gaze between the ocean and Lauren. “I mean, seriously. This isn’t some sort of weird time warp that we’ll never get out of?”
The following morning had the three of them—Lauren, Nicki, and Fran—sitting out on the veranda, a wide covered porch allowing full view of the glorious Aegean Sea without any aerial vantage point for dive-bombing media drones to take their picture. In this moment, Lauren could almost believe they weren’t trapped at the home of one of the most photographed royal families in all Europe, but simply enjoying the gracious back patio of a family friend. A family friend who wasn’t a psychopath, anyway.
“We’ll be leaving in a few days, I expect,” she said, with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Emmaline is almost sure that Kristos isn’t a dream, but I think she’ll need to leave and then come back before she really believes this all isn’t a mirage.”
“It’s so not a mirage.” Fran smiled as she set down her orange juice glass. “Never mind that she’s out with the queen visiting on some sort of morning rounds, like we’re back in Regency England or something. Every time Kristos looks at her, his entire soul is in his eyes. He must know how skeptical she is deep inside. How much she assumes this is a story that simply must come to an end.”
“If he does, then he’s very perceptive.” Lauren narrowed her eyes at Fran. “You haven’t been shrinking him, have you? Without his knowledge?”
“I don’t shrink people.” Fran’s eye roll didn’t quite mask the edge in her voice. “Right now, I’m not licensed to do anything but sit around and read about the work I should be doing instead of being on permanent vacation. Just because I have a conversation with a guy doesn’t mean I’m trying to crawl into his brain.”
“Right.” Nicki’s derisive voice echoed Lauren’s, and Lauren looked at her, startled, as they both broke into laughter. They all hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year, only a few times since they graduated college, and yet they’d so quickly fallen back into their old patterns from school that it was almost eerie. Emmaline the caretaker, Nicki the adventurer, Fran the voice of reason, and Lauren…
She didn’t know what she brought to the table, honestly. Her money, certainly, but that had never seemed to be a big deal to the others. And it wasn’t her money anyway—it was her family’s, and it had strings. So sure, she was going to spend it when the opportunity arose. But what else bound her so closely to these women? What bound anyone?
This was veering into Fran territory. Fran, who now was peering at her, with that sense of “knowingness” that was so unnerving. “So, what’s bothering you anyway?” Fran asked. “I mean, beyond your general ennui at all the opulence surrounding us.” She grinned and waved, clearly trying to ease Lauren’s tension while she continued her delicate inquisition. “Did your parents call again? Your sister?”
“No, thank God.” Lauren warred with herself briefly over what to say to them about Henry’s little package. They needed to know—something. If only to protect themselves. She’d learned the hard way that withholding information left people vulnerable to attack from the most unexpected of quarters. Attack they weren’t always able to withstand. But she didn’t want to make too much of Henry Smithson. He had enough people making too much of him.
At that moment Nicki sharpened the conversation, as Nicki often did. “You know, I think your mom and dad should back the hell off you,” she said, around an egregiously healthy egg frittata. “First they wanted you to get a degree, now they don’t want you to work, but instead get married off like some sort of cow to increase the family fortunes? That’s seriously sick.”
“Well, maybe not a cow…” Fran put in, her wince clear in her tone.
“You know what I mean.” Nicki waved her fork, then pointed its tines at Lauren. “You could get a job doing anything in the world, and they know it. This marriage thing is weird. And so fifteenth century.”
“They’re pressuring you more, aren’t they?” Fran had stopped drinking, and had settled back in her chair, watching Lauren with her dark eyes. She’d been the quietest of them all, save Emmaline in college, but her mind made enough noise on its own. She was the only woman Lauren had met who thought too loud. “That’s p
art of the reason for this trip, isn’t it? Only you couldn’t have imagined how our very first stop would end up taking over the entire experience.”
Lauren held herself still so that she didn’t slump back in her seat, though she wanted to. She was so tired, and probably a little hungover, regardless of what she’d told Dimitri last night.
Dimitri. Don’t go there.
Flustered, she dove into a conversation that was every bit as treacherous. But with these girls, in this place, she could at least be a little honest. Because, once again, forewarned was forearmed. If only someone had treated her with the same kindness when she’d been too young to know she needed to be armed at all.
“It’s—weird. They aren’t pushing me to get married, exactly, but they clearly want me to get engaged. They actually want a lengthy engagement, to drag it out as long as possible.” She focused on her breakfast plate, glad she’d managed to eat enough to keep her stomach settled. “The dual undergrad/MBA was charming to them, but I kind of think they really want the pomp and pageantry of a wedding, and all of the social media blitz that will surround it. They think it will be good for business.”
Nicki stared at her. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Not even remotely.”
“Is there someone they have in mind?” Fran pressed. “Or is it anyone with a particular net worth?”
Lauren grimaced. So not going there. “I’ve sort of made it my policy of late not to slow down enough so we can have that conversation. It’s been working so far.”
Nicki scowled. “But now you’re trapped here.”
“Now I’m trapped. I mean, they wouldn’t cause a scene or anything in public, but I’m sort of surprised they haven’t shown up yet, you want to know the truth.” And with Henry and his little package…she knew her time was running out. Because where Henry was, her parents were sure to follow, and vice versa. She really needed to leave Garronia sooner rather than later.
“Well, this isn’t the freaking Middle Ages,” Nicki insisted again. “They can’t marry you off without your consent.”
Sure they can. If they can catch me. “I think they’ll move on eventually. I really do. I keep waiting for some big stock market boom or bust. That usually takes over Dad’s attention for at least a few months. And as long as I appear to be productive, that helps too.”
“Hence the MBA.” Fran tapped her lips. “Grad school?”
“I was safe until I turned twenty-one, honestly. No one gets married before twenty-one anymore. It’s unseemly. But since then…” Lauren shook her head. “Honestly, I didn’t expect it would be this hard. I toyed with the idea of a fake boyfriend, but there’s no one I knew who I wanted to subject to that kind of attention—and again, I didn’t need a different husband from whoever my parents picked out. I needed no one at all.”
“I still don’t understand why they care.”
Lauren knew her smile was too brittle, but she couldn’t help that. “Money is a form of currency, but so is prestige, so is chatter. The more chatter, the more interest people will take in our family. That interest can translate to awareness of my father’s businesses, which could lead to new businesses. I’ve kept a pretty low profile up to now, but there’s money in my profile. Money he’d like to tap.”
“That’s disgusting.” Nicki shook her head. “You don’t care about money that much.”
Lauren shrugged. “I’ve always had it. That makes a huge difference—no, it does.” She waved off Nicki’s automatic objection. “I don’t take it for granted. I’m incredibly blessed. But it’s sort of similar to you with your physical fitness stuff. Being active is second nature to you. It’s who you are and what you know. It’s how people define you before they even meet you.” Nicki held her gaze for a long moment, her cheeks faintly coloring. There was a reason behind Nicki’s commitment to extreme sports, a reason that Lauren hadn’t realized before they’d gone zip-lining their first full day in Garronia, before all the chaos had struck with Emmaline and Kristos. Now she knew something about Nicki, something big, and she wasn’t going to betray the secret.
“Someone’s been reading my psychology journals,” Fran said wryly, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents coursing among them all. Lauren took the interruption for what it was, a respite.
“Well, you can’t deny they’re more interesting than my high-finance reading.” Her words were light, easy, but she modulated her tone anyway, turning away so Fran’s shrewd eyes couldn’t catch her expression. She could feel the anxiety surging up in her as she’d tried to explain this to Nicki, who treated everyone with the same wide-eyed and open-armed honesty. But Lauren’s life was different. She hadn’t been wide-eyed for a long time.
“Anyway,” she continued. “I’ve been looking at a new itinerary. I think we’re probably going to—”
A commotion at the door betrayed that they were no longer alone, and they all turned as the queen and Emmaline entered, both of them looking fresh and happy and full of sunshine.
Then two men entered behind them, and Lauren’s mood instantly soured.
Great. She’d thought she was done with him.
“I thought I was done with this,” growled Dimitri as he and Kristos stepped onto the veranda. When the new crown prince had summoned him from his training rounds this morning, he’d responded with military efficiency, wondering if he’d finally get his orders to assist at the border, where he could actually do some good. He should have known that those kinds of orders would only come from Cyril. Kristos was so ensnared in his accession duties, he didn’t have time to take a breath, let alone focus on the work he so loved. “Another party? For what?”
“It’ll get worse before it gets better.” Kristos didn’t look amused either, hanging back as his mother and his fiancée swept forward, clearly bursting with news. “Emmaline’s so relieved that my mother seems happy, she’d agree to do anything for the few short days she’s here. And Mother is so happy to be planning a royal wedding, she’s impossible to be around.”
“And you?” Dimitri didn’t ask the question lightly. It’d been only a few days since Kristos had proposed to Emmaline on open network TV…or pseudo proposed, anyway. He’d given her one of his military pins, not a ring, but the effect was the same: mass media hysteria.
“The wedding, I couldn’t care less about,” Kristos said, shaking his head. “That’s going to be a state event so tortured with tradition that Emmaline will probably fall asleep in the middle of it. But as for her?” He shifted his glance forward and focused on Emmaline.
Despite himself, Dimitri felt a rush of emotion at the change in Kristos’s face. Though Kristos was only a few years younger than him, Dimitri had spent most of his time with Ari, Kristos’s older brother. Still, he’d watched Kristos mature through many different phases of his life. Bored out of his mind with school, excited with his physical training when he’d first joined the military, drunk and celebratory, devastated with the loss of his men in combat…and completely destroyed when his brother had crashed his stupid, fucking plane. Dimitri had even seen Kristos caught up and half in love with whatever woman had crossed his path on any given day.
But he’d never seen him like this.
Kristos was grinning broadly, his entire face transformed as he stared out at Emmaline as if he was a boy of sixteen and not the future king of Garronia. “Emmaline is…everything I wanted, and a lot I didn’t know I wanted. She’s beautiful, giving, sweet—”
“Pull it together, Romeo,” Dimitri reached out, punching Kristos in the arm to refocus his attention. “The queen.”
He and Kristos moved forward to watch the announcement, but he’d heard the important part once already. As King Jasen’s closest relatives in Garronia, the Raptis family insisted on hosting an engagement party for Kristos and Emmaline, and of course her friends must stay to attend, blah, blah, blah. Emmaline’s gaze swept back toward them, and Kristos took another step to enter into the explosion of female planning, while Dimitri edged back
. He didn’t care about another ridiculous party. He didn’t care about these women.
Well, not all of them, anyway.
Lauren Grant stood between her two friends, the fitness freak and the shrink, holding on to her chair with a little too much grace. He frowned, shifting forward slightly. As if she caught his movement, her gaze drifted to his, then held it for a second. Every ounce of withering contempt that she could infuse into that gaze, she did, then she glanced away.
If the eyes were the window to the soul, this woman offered nothing to see but hoarfrost.
Only he knew better than that. It was all he could do to keep from grinning.
“Of course, Dimitri will be on hand to provide security for the event.” He blinked at the sound of his name, lashing down his irritation at getting pulled into the conversation.
“Security?” Emmaline asked, her slender body going instantly tense. “Why security? Is anything wrong?”
“Standard procedure,” Dimitri said, overriding the queen’s voice. The queen looked at him, surprised at his intervention, and he nodded with deference. “Ma’am.”
Queen Catherine smoothed her expression. “Exactly so,” she said. She didn’t look at Lauren, who didn’t look at him, and Dimitri kept his gaze on the room in general. Nicki’s and Francesca’s faces were blank, but genuinely so, not in the calm-façade way of Lauren’s. That façade masked about a million untold truths, he suspected. Not the least of which was last night’s little scare. Interesting.
Predictably, Lauren recovered quickly. “I’m sure there’s no need for more security than whatever you would normally have.” Her gaze swiveled to his, and he was struck with its cool dismissal. “It’s an engagement party, right? It should be safe enough without involving Dimitri. He’s done quite enough.” Her lips curled with disdain around his name, and he found that he wanted to hear it from her again—and again. Not in her haughty, refined accent either. He held her stare, glaring back at her, matching her ice with fire until finally she faltered, her eyes going wide as he put the full force of what he wanted to do to and with her in his gaze. That’s right, princess. Chew on that.
Captured (Gowns & Crowns #2) Page 4
