The Royal Elite: Mattias

by Bourdon, Danielle

  Many other men filled out their clothes just as well, and were plenty engaging to keep her occupied. The faint scoff that slipped past her lips was too quiet to be heard by anyone except herself. Who was she kidding? Since the kidnapping ordeal, she'd remained isolated and away from anyone who wasn't immediate family. Her father's attempts to set her up on blind dates were miserable failures, exacerbated by her propensity to skip the dates completely. Alannah had no interest in meeting a prospective boyfriend and she refused to indulge her father's insistence that it was high time she took relationships seriously. Only one man had consumed her thoughts for the past few weeks and now he was here, much to her chagrin.

  If she was honest with herself, seeing Mattias on the trail had sent a shockwave through her system. A sense of melancholy and loneliness hit hard after arriving back at her suite, bringing back memories of how badly she'd missed him. There were times that she defended his need to keep secrets, arguing that he did so out of necessity. On late nights, when sleep evaded her no matter how tired she was, she'd tried to convince herself that everyone had secrets and skeletons. Mattias possessed qualities impossible to find in men of his stature, qualities that she found appealing in more ways than one. So what if he had a few secrets? Didn't she? Nothing of the kind she suspected he did, she reminded herself, and his were big enough to erect a roadblock between any couple.

  Taking a deep breath, she smoothed a hand down the pale pink silk of her gown and descended the last step to the foyer. The dress she'd chosen for the ball fit snug across the bust and over her hips, flaring only a little at her feet. White kid gloves covered her hands and arms to the elbow, delicate yet well made. Several heads turned, men loitering near the door either waiting for their companions or escaping the great hall for a few minutes of quieter conversation. Alannah, chin tucked, spared the small group a minor nod of greeting. She didn't stick around to give any of them time to spark conversation, instead moving directly into the hall where the party was well under way.

  Right off the bat, she scoured the faces for Mattias. Catching herself, she curbed her attention to the guests before her, passing out polite hellos as she navigated to a spot near the windows. Although small tables covered in white linen were available to take her ease, she chose to remain standing. Somewhere in the crowd was her guard, keeping a close eye on her whereabouts and well being.

  Feeling conspicuous as usual, Alannah fidgeted with her gloves, back to scanning faces from under her lashes. She hated that she couldn't resist looking for him, or that she wished, no matter what she told herself, that he would seek her out for a dance.

  That was where she saw him, finally. On the dance floor. He swirled into her line of vision, striking in a black suit with champagne colored vest and tie. His dark hair, styled back away from his face, contrasted sharply against the white shirt buttoned to the throat. He had a woman in his arms, holding her at a respectable distance, appearing as if he was performing a duty rather than that he was entranced by whatever she was saying. Alannah recognized the woman as Battersby's daughter, a graceful swan of a woman with dark hair and a pleasant face.

  It was Mattias's demeanor with the woman that quelled any jealousy on Alannah's part. He didn't quite look bored, exactly, but Alannah had seen him with that particular gleam in his eyes on the garden chess board and it wasn't a look he had now with Battersby's daughter.

  During the next turn, she suddenly found herself in a dead stare with Mattias, gazes locked. There was no mistaking that he'd seen her. Heat blossomed across her collarbones, spreading up her throat and over her cheeks. All it took was a look from the Prince to send her senses into a tailspin.

  The moment passed as the couple took another turn further from Alannah's position, getting lost in the growing number of dancers.

  When the song ended a short time later, Alannah held her breath. What did she expect after being so rude on the trail? For him to make his way over, maybe ask her to dance? Treat her like any other woman after she'd made it explicitly clear she couldn't live with his secrets? What would she do or say if he did? She wasn't sure she had it in her to be rude a second time, despite her irritation over everything else.

  Instead, she saw him accept a drink from the waitstaff and take up a position with a few gentlemen across the hall. He didn't so much as glance her way. Ten minutes later, when Mattias looked to be getting good and deep into one discussion or another, Alannah realized he was well and truly moving on. He had no intention of ingratiating himself after her actions, no intentions of placating them both with a dance. What a fool she'd been to wish otherwise.

  The idea of Mattias moving on disturbed her. She hated the thought of shifting back to a cold, cordial relationship with him—and that was even if he deigned to talk to her at all. She'd given the Prince no reason to expect anything else. You reap what you sow, wasn't that the old saying?

  She had no one to blame but herself.

  A touch at her elbow yanked Alannah back to the present. Looking over, and up, she met a pair of green eyes set in the face of a kind looking gentleman. His dark coloring, defined jaw and olive skin went well with a black and white tuxedo. One of the gentry, born and bred into wealth. Any woman would be lucky to share time with him.

  “Excuse me, Miss. Would you care to dance?” he asked.

  “No thank you—well, actually, yes. I would.” Alannah, just about to turn the handsome man down, decided to dance with him after all. She needed to take her mind off the Prince, off her conflicting emotions.

  Maybe concentrating on the spins and turns would help her forget that she might have just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was harder than he imagined it would be to ignore her. After that electric moment when their eyes met, Mattias had to force himself to not look Alannah's way again. Battersby's daughter, a woman he'd known casually from other gatherings, was a considerate partner and put no pressure on him for anything other than the dance. Once done, she parted from him to see about her own agenda while he went about his.

  The entire time he drank and talked business, he was aware of Alannah across the room. He could feel her gaze, knew she watched him like he wanted to watch her. When she stepped out with another man onto the dance floor, he resisted looking their way, instead concentrating on the tentative deals he was making with the prominent men in his company. That's what he was here for, after all. To begin dialogue between two nations that might, one day, actually result in a situation that would benefit them both.

  Trading one drink for another, Mattias bowed out of the conversation after several more minutes and made his way through the throng toward the terrace. In periphery, he caught a glimpse of pale silk mid-twirl. It was enough to let him know that Alannah still danced with whatever man had caught her fancy. He hoped the poor sot didn't have any personal baggage, especially of the kind that needed to remain unsaid between lovers.

  Pressing his lips tight, he stepped onto the terrace beyond the double french doors and breathed deep. The scent of ferns and other flora greeted him as he strolled to the railing overlooking a neatly manicured garden. Unlike House Morano, this garden was more demure in design, with knee high hedges, little lights marking the cobbled path, and several arbors draped in red rose swags. He could see their shapes against the darkness with the spill of light from the terrace.

  “I'm still angry that you won't tell me your secrets,” Alannah said from somewhere behind him.

  The sound of her voice was sweeter than the scent of jasmine climbing the trellis on the wall of the mansion. He took a drink, saying nothing for the moment. Her earlier dismissal hadn't set all that well, even if he understood why she'd done it. Never mind that he thought it was better if she came to him than the other way around. This needed to be Alannah's idea rather than his own. She had to forgive him—or not—on her terms.

  “Are you ignoring me?” she asked with a faint note of indignation.

  He almost smiled. A
lmost.

  Turning his body to bring her into better view, he focused on her eyes, refusing to glance along the cut of the dress like he wanted to. That was the path to his ruin, he was sure. He addressed her with an austere expression to keep her guessing about his mood.

  “I'm not sure why I should do otherwise,” he said, cocking his chin a fraction as if to challenge her. He saw the way she darted looks down at her fidgeting fingers, then up to his face. Always socially awkward.

  “Look, I know I was...abrupt...earlier, but--”

  “Abrupt? Really? I thought you were downright rude.”

  “Mattias, seriously. What did you expect?” She put her hands on her hips, brows furrowing over her eyes.

  “That you might act like a lady. Or, at the very least, that you would give me the common courtesy of companionship on the ride back to the stables.”

  “I was a lady!” she protested, mouth agape with surprise. “You should know I could have been much less polite.”

  “I didn't think you were polite whatsoever.” He lifted his glass, watching her above the rim. Mattias intended to let her know just what he hadn't liked about their last meeting.

  Alannah blustered and fluttered a hand in the air. Exasperated. Then she zeroed in on him once more. “Well, then, aren't we both a little disappointed in each other.”

  The sting of her words rolled right off his shoulders. Mattias expected as much. Alannah, he had discovered, could only remain 'cordial' so long. Then, whatever diplomacy she possessed shattered, leaving the brazen, sharp tongued woman in its wake. He spread his hands as if to say, what's done is done.

  She took one step closer. Just close enough for him to catch a tantalizing breath of her delicate perfume.

  “I need to know about these extracurricular 'activities' that you do.” She framed the word 'activities in air quotes, speaking more quietly this time. “I need to know about your friends and how much danger you put yourself in.”

  “I can't.”

  “Don't tell me you can't. You can. It's important, Mattias.” She clasped her hands in front of her, eyes on his face.

  “Yes, it is. Very important. There are some things I cannot tell anyone, even those closest to me. This is just the way it is.” He finished off his drink, never looking away from her face. The truth of it was—he wasn't lying. Chey didn't know that her husband, Sander, was also a part of the group, even if Sander didn't actively go on missions with the rest of them. It was better for all involved. The less people that knew, the less chance someone would slip and say something at a bad time.

  “I don't believe you. I can keep a secret, you know. At some point, you're going to have to learn to trust someone,” she countered, taking another step closer.

  Setting the empty glass on a small table next to his hip, Mattias placed his palms on the railing at either side of his body. It was better than reaching out to cup her chin and drag her into a kiss.

  “It's a question of safety rather than trust, Alannah. You saw what can sometimes happen. Had you known too much information, those men might have tortured you to retrieve it. They were on another mission, though, thankfully. It might not always be that way.”

  “But I can't stand not knowing, after all this. It'll eat at me and eat at me until I start pestering you day in and day out for information.”

  “You make it sound like we'll be spending a lot of time in each other's company in the near future.” Although his words were offhand, his gaze narrowed. Was she trying to tell him she wanted to be in his life? Despite what secrets she knew he was keeping?

  What was more, did he want her there? He realized with startling clarity that he couldn't imagine himself with anyone else. He didn't want to learn another woman the way he wanted to learn Alannah. And it would take time, he knew, to unlock all the secrets that were hers. The way she lifted a shoulder, trying to be nonchalant, told him that she was at least considering it.

  “Let's be frank, Mattias. There's something here. No, we haven't been on dates or on picnics or whatever else people do when they're first acquainted and interested—you are interested, aren't you?” She interrupted herself, brows arching, as if she suddenly second guessed herself where his feelings were concerned.

  It was times like these, when she started getting all puffed up and indignant, that he wanted to take her in his arms and answer her doubts with his mouth and body. Show her, instead of tell her, exactly how he felt.

  “Even if I was, there's the problem of my 'secrets',” he reminded her, not giving in too easily. He still suspected this would all go easier if Alannah came to the right decisions on her own, without coercion. She had an issue with that part of his life, as most women would, so the proverbial ball was in her court over whether she could live with it or not.

  She exhaled, exasperated. “Mattias. I'm trying here. Why can't you meet me halfway? Are you interested or not?”

  That time, he couldn't contain a fast grin that came and went on his mouth. The petulant tone of her voice was what caused it. “Oh, I'm interested, little vixen. But why engage in even something as simple as a dance if we both know you won't relent about the private part of my life?”

  “So you're saying you won't tell me everything.” She straightened her arms and made fists at her sides. “After I'm standing here telling you that I need you to.”

  “That's what I'm saying.” He watched a melancholy expression take hold of Alannah's features. His stomach tightened at the sight.

  “You're killing us before we ever had a chance to get off the ground.” Her gaze turned briefly accusing just before she swung away for the terrace doors.

  He caught her arm at the elbow, a gentle yet effective hold. Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. “There are things I cannot tell you. This is my life, and it pertains to more areas than my 'acquaintances'. I'm a Prince of Latvala, Alannah, there will always be secrets I can't confide. Understand I'm not doing this on purpose, it just is the way it is.”

  Paused, she shifted her chin toward her arm, but her eyes didn't lift to his. She seemed to be watching the place his fingers touched her skin. Then, after a full thirty seconds, she met his gaze.

  “I can't knowingly pursue any relationship, no matter where it leads, when so many secrets lie between us. I can't worry every time you're late for a date, or I don't hear from you for days upon days. Don't you see what kind of torture that would be for me? I'm sorry. I actually thought that if I told you how I felt, that you might change your mind.” Gently, she eased her elbow from his hand and continued to the doors.

  Mattias released her, exhaling a short sound of frustration. It wasn't her fault, and he couldn't blame her for not wanting to start seeing a man who refused to tell her where he was going, or if he might or might not be returning. She deserved better, he told himself, than a man who only gave her pieces instead of the whole.

  Standing where she left him, he raked a hand through his hair, sending the combed strands slightly askew. Unable to keep his eyes off her, he tracked her to the doorway, where interior light outlined her delicate body and the snug fit of her gown. When she paused, his gaze skipped to her face.

  “Give me a last dance to remember you by.” She extended a gloved hand in invitation.

  Alannah accepted Mattias into her personal space with the idea that this would be their last interaction. It bothered her to the point her mood descended into a maudlin pique, one she didn't try to alter while she settled one hand on his shoulder and let him clasp the other in his palm. The heat of his skin penetrated the thin material of the glove, warming her hand. And though she knew he was staring down at her face, she refused to look anywhere but at his throat.

  Being this close to Mattias brought to mind the memories they'd made between them. Their first 'meeting' on the balcony at House Morano, the chess game in the garden, the viewing of the artifacts. He'd been so amenable that evening, though she supposed he had to be considering it was his 'job'.

  Following his lead,
she stepped and turned, matching his languid pace. There was no hurry in this dance, and for that she was grateful. Under her fingers, she felt the muscles of his shoulders flex and shift every time they spun a slow circle. Once, she even thought he squeezed her hand and moved her an inch closer with the arm clamped gentlemanly around her waist.

  “It's not a waste of time getting to know me better. What if you decide I'm worth it after you do? Perhaps knowing everything about my life won't seem as critical as it does right now,” he said, voice low and soft.

  “Shh.” Alannah didn't want to talk about what-ifs. She knew her mind, her heart, and knew that she wouldn't—couldn't—ever be happy being in the dark half the time.

  Just before the song came to its natural end, Alannah chose a moment during another lazy turn to disengage from Mattias's arms. She did so in time to the steps, swirling away from his body. With his scent lingering on her gloves and in her senses, she departed the dance floor and headed for the foyer doors. From there she sought the stairs leading to her rooms, never once looking back.

  Standing in the middle of the dance floor with couples moving around him, Mattias watched Alannah retreat from the hall. The pleasant music filling the room clashed with the volatility he was feeling, as did the serene décor and little lights strung high along the walls and around white columns spaced every eight feet or so. Magical things might have happened in that hall, were happening to a few other people caught up in each other's chemistry. Couples forged good memories here, ones that lasted a lifetime.

  The only memory he would take away from Battersby Hall was watching Alannah walk away from him for the last time. He supposed he deserved it, what with his lifestyle and unwillingness to bend. There could be no other way than this, however. Working with the Elite was too important, too much a part of who he was at the core. That Alannah lived and breathed was a testament to this sacrifice.