Oh, yes. The contracts.
The documents had been delivered to me the day of the press conference, and I’d been studying them ever since. The non-disclosure had been easy to sign, and I’d returned it right away. But the others I’d been more careful with, especially when it came to me and the rights of my child, which was the only thing I really cared about.
Even when I got a call from Reina herself asking about the papers, I reminded her that I had until the actual wedding to review them. I’d barely refrained from adding that if she didn’t like it, she could kiss my ass.
“You definitely have that horrible woman pegged correctly,” I replied. “That’s for certain.”
“And your duke? Is he struggling with it all too?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. He should be used to it, I guess. But he’s been busy. I don’t see him a lot during the day, and I’m often asleep when he comes home.”
“You know the word is slipping out about your happy news.” Thierry made a vague gesture toward my stomach.
I sighed and forced myself not to place my hand over the tiny child. “I know. I didn’t actually expect to keep it secret for as long as we did.” It took everything inside me not to lay my head on the older man’s shoulder. “How do you really think people will react? Some have been so cruel on social media and—”
“I told you not to read those trolls, my dear.”
I met his wise gaze. “I know, but I keep thinking I’ll learn from what they are saying, or that I’ll maybe be bolstered from the equally kind statements… but…”
“The harsh remarks make direct hits, I know.”
I nodded. “Straight to the heart. Either my hair is too straight or not straight enough. My clothes too bland or ill fitting. My smile too tight or too toothy. I can’t seem to do anything right.” I took a sip of the tangy lemonade. “And I’m sure my morals will be crucified when they learn of the baby. I know it shouldn’t matter what others think, but it does.”
He snorted. “Don’t worry. When you live in the glass bowl long enough, your skin will get thicker and it won’t matter as much.”
“Promise?”
He patted my hand. “I promise.”
I met my mentor’s gaze again, wanting to ask him something that had been bothering me. There were so few people here I could talk to, and I wanted to be careful.
“How well do you know Seb, Thierry?”
He smiled. “Oh, I’ve known the lad since he was a boy, but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Let’s see, what I know of the duke is that he has grown into a smart and capable man. I believe he is a man who knows how to serve his country selflessly, but who never learned to follow his own heart.”
I nodded. “He seems like two different men at times. One is the dutiful statesmen in public. And then in private, he’s such a caring…” I blushed, unsure if I should go on.
Thierry lifted a brow. “Caring and passionate lover, perhaps?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And you’re wondering which of the men is the real Sebastianos.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked them away. “Yes.”
He smiled. “Won’t it be great fun finding out?”
Fun?
Huh.
I’d been putting so much pressure on myself to know everything right away, that I hadn’t allowed things to simply evolve as we explored each other and our layers of personalities. What would happen if I worried less and smiled more? Fretted less and laughed more?
Would that fit royal protocol? Perhaps not.
But it would fit me.
And maybe that would be enough.
***
“Did you have a good time?” Seb asked me once we were back at his apartment.
I kicked off the heels, yet another thing I was being forced to get used to, and plopped down on the sofa in a very undignified manner. “Very much. Too bad you were called away.”
He looked guilty. “Yes, and I’m sorry for that. There’s just been…” He shook his head and sat down next to me, then forced me to lay down until my feet were in his lap.
When his thumbs ran up my arch, I moaned.
“Been what?”
He pulled on my toes, wiggling them back and forth, and I closed my eyes, listening to him chuckle.
I cracked open an eye. “What?”
He placed his palm against the sole of my foot, and my toes barely came to his middle knuckle. “Pipsqueak.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Rub, slave.”
He lifted my foot and bit my big toe, making me giggle. But he settled down and began to rub again, and it was nice just being together this way. Soon, though, his hands slowed down their movement and a far away look swept over his face.
He was gone again. Here, but gone to wherever his mind so often wandered, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d ever be enough to make him be fully present.
Taking my feet from his lap, I moved until I was straddling him, hiking my dress up to my thighs so I could press my sex against him.
His head lolled back on the sofa as he looked lazily at me, his hands gliding up my arms and to my hair, where he began pulling out the pins.
Leaning forward, I pushed his shirt apart, and pressed my mouth just over his heart, feeling the strong beat against my lips.
“What happened to your mother?”
It was a question I’d been burning to ask. A question I’d researched but had never found an answer to beyond learning that she’d left the country when Seb was only five years old.
He stiffened, and his hands fell away from me, and I knew that I should have stayed quiet.
“I’m sorry,” I said, moving to get off his lap. “It’s too personal.”
He stopped me, his hands moving to my waist to keep me in place. “Yes, it’s too personal,” he finally said, dropping his head back to the cushion again, “but you’re part of my personal life now. You deserve to know.”
I held still and waited.
“She couldn’t handle the palace life and left to get away from the pressure.” He made a snorting sound. “I’ve not seen her since I was five.” He closed his eyes. “I’ll never understand how anyone could just abandon their child like that.”
My heart squeezed for him. That simple explanation explained so much. Why he resented the fishbowl of palace life, as he called it. Why he didn’t want to be married.
Until now. When he had little choice. Otherwise, he’d be abandoning his child.
My heart squeezed again. This time for me.
He was a noble man, doing the noble thing… because he had to.
Cupping his face in my hands, I waited until he looked at me. “You won’t be abandoning our child if we choose not to marry, Seb. You can still be part of his or her life no matter what.”
He frowned. “Are you giving me an out?”
I smiled past the pain the suggestion caused. “Yes.”
He raised his head, and my hands fell away. “Do you want out, Iliana? Is this proving to be too much? Is this what this is about?”
Tears burned up my sinuses. Damn hormones.
Before he took the tears the wrong way, I admitted, “It’s a lot to take on, but no, I don’t want to leave you.”
The look of relief on his face nearly broke me. “I don’t want you to leave. I want us to be a family. I want this to work.”
Another question reared its ugly head. “Why, Seb? Why me?”
He examined my face. “I don’t know. I don’t know what drew me to you or what continued to tug me in your direction. I don’t know why we met that night or why we came together again here.” He lifted a finger to my hair, twirled a strand round and round. “What I do know is that I’m glad. Am I scared? Yes. Worried. Yes. Overwhelmed and busy with my new role and all that it takes to make sure my country is stable and safe? Yes. Could the timing have been better? Yes.”
I laughed softly. “I get the pictu
re.”
He let go of my hair and pressed his finger on my cheek, exactly where one of my dimples lived. “God, I love your dimples.”
I reached up and placed my finger in one of his intentions. “I love your dimples too, but I think you’re distracting me from our conversation.”
The dimple grew deeper. “Clever girl. But the truth is that I can’t answer the question of why. I can just say that I’m glad it’s you. The girl who loves llamas and makes me laugh. The girl who is so sexy and strong it blows my mind. The girl I can’t stop thinking about and who is carrying my baby deep in her womb. I’m glad that girl is you.”
“I’m glad it’s me too.” Another question came to the surface, and since he was being so open, maybe he’d be willing to go a little deeper. “Have you ever been in love, Sebastianos?”
“No.” He was silent for so long that I thought he wouldn’t say any further, then he surprised me by adding, “All my life, I didn’t think I’d be able to. Didn’t want to.”
That was such a sad answer, and I stroked his beautiful face with my fingers. “Why?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Too many risks, maybe. Not enough rewards.”
I understood that.
“Love is scary.”
He nodded. “Yes. Love too often equals loss.”
“So, what’s a better option?” I asked, genuinely curious as to what he thought.
His eyes slid down my body, and his hands moved to my thighs, pushing the dress up and over my hips, leaving my beige lace panties exposed. I gasped when he ripped the panties away before opening his pants and lifting me onto his cock.
“Sex.” I sank down on him, my body taking him in. “Sex is the option.”
As his lips came down on mine, I could only hope it would be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sebastianos
My conversation with Iliana lingered with me over the next week, as we both were torn apart or thrust together by our growing responsibilities.
Torn apart by the many meetings I was taking part in or the many teas or brunches or bullshit meet and greets the palace communications team thought would increase her PR value and help “submerge her into our culture.”
I’d had a very pointed conversation with Ralph, head of communication, to make sure Reina didn’t have a hand in Iliana’s schedule, trying to manipulate us into growing apart. But the older gentleman, who’d fully recovered from the stomach upset at the press conference, assured me that he was keeping my former betrothed away from anything to do with my current fiancée.
When we were thrust together, it was under intense scrutiny while we smiled and waved, waved and smiled.
The summer festivities were in full swing, so we’d have our pictures taken with festival winners, smiling in photos that ranged from the most beautiful quilt to the biggest olive.
Then there were the wedding plans. The venue had already been chosen, and the cathedral booked for the entire week prior so that security sweeps could be conducted daily. A wedding planner had been hired to take over much of the responsibility, but Iliana was still away a great deal with fittings and wardrobe choices for the many events both before and after.
She was exhausted.
Her obstetrician was ordering her to get some rest and eat better, but it wasn’t enough.
So when my phone vibrated on the nightstand, I rushed to silence it before it woke her.
A text from Nate. Find me when you get up.
I groaned and rolled from the bed, careful not to disturb her. I tiptoed to the shower and was dressed and out the door of the apartment in less than ten minutes. I didn’t need to call Nate as I found him perched on the edge of my desk when I made my way through the door.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that he was precariously close to the very spot that Iliana and I had used to christen the office.
“What?” Nate asked, looking around like I’d seen something tangible to make me laugh.
I just shook my head. “Memory,” I said as I grabbed the folder in his hand and he took a seat in front of my desk. “Let me guess. The report from Poulos.”
He nodded. “You win the prize.”
It’d been less than two weeks since Nate asked our old military buddy to do a little extracurricular work for us, and the fact that there was a dossier in my hand already meant bad things.
“There’s nothing explicit enough to actually arrest her,” Nate said, sounding disappointed. “But we have keywords and faces from meetings she’s been attending around the country over the course of the past week. More clandestine get-togethers than is probably acceptable for such a high-ranking government official.”
“And Poulos was able to trace some of the people connected with her?”
Nate gave a shrug. “Sort of. But the juicy stuff here are the keywords and places we get when we play a little game of connect the dots. Amurian fundamental groups are upping their rhetoric and stirring the pot on their side of the border, and you can see that Anjou is certainly trying to kick the hornet’s nest on our side.”
I took a moment to read through everything Poulos had pieced together. It was still purely speculation, but just like Nate said, it gave us towns and leaders and border checkpoints to monitor more closely for any increase in activities or even hostilities.
“Please thank Poulos for me, and let’s get some priorities set with Fieldsis about how we’re going to keep an eye on our new targets. We’ll try to keep Poulos out of this as long as possible, and hopefully, he can keep ‘observing’ for us.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Nate said.
Reading all the way to the end, I finally closed the folder and sat back in my chair, rubbing my face with the palm of my hands.
“This makes it all so much more complicated,” I said. “It certainly doesn’t seem like they’re going to try to make any sort of moves on Abingson, but I feel like our outer cities are more vulnerable than ever.”
Nate was listening carefully. “Agreed.”
“But if Anjou wants a major show of military force around certain borders, then we’re just furthering whatever agenda she’s pushing,” I reasoned. At times, I was grateful that the only objective on my calendar each day boiled down to one thing: supporting the king and crown princess and protecting her however I could.
But it also meant that when things like this happened, I operated in the shadows and had no real say. I could cajole, influence, and persuade, but I couldn’t do what I felt best at the moment I felt it.
“Does this change anything with Penelope’s schedule?” Nate asked. We had a few festival events this week, but nothing more than two miles from the palace and nothing that lasted longer than forty-five minutes. I didn’t think “grounding” Penelope would make her any safer at this point, but if it’d been truly up to me, I’d have suggested the king and his daughter take a few months off and vacation in the south of France for a while so that Nate and I could borrow a few commandos and “re-settle” the armed militias that were likely looking for weak spots in our outer cities.
According to Poulos, they wanted to provoke a skirmish with our military and demand their government retaliate. In the end, it was all a big ploy to get the king overthrown and a sympathetic/puppet regime with a military leader installed.
It was an old Amurian playbook that hadn’t been updated since the current theocracy head had been installed in the mid-seventh century. They were nothing if not persistent in their ideals — I’d give them that.
“Penelope’s pretty home-based this week,” I said. “I think we’ll keep her on track unless something changes. Whoever is hoping this plays out would probably love nothing more than a round of ruined Summer Festival activities.”
“I’m curious,” Nate said. “If you had carte blanche right now to do whatever you wanted, how would you handle Anjou with the evidence we have?”
I considered it. “I’d probably do something really devious and ring her up on trumped-up charg
es, so she had to be removed from power.” I met his gaze. “Although, I doubt finding legitimate charges would be that difficult. Either way, I’d get her mouth away from the ears of the security council and media as fast as possible.”
Nate seemed to agree with me and tapped his foot against my desk, looking deep in thought. “How’s the situation with Iliana?”
“Busy. Hectic. Warp speed.”
He nodded. “I’d agree with that. Seems you don’t do anything at an easy or straightforward pace.”
I snorted. “Guess not.” I knew I was about to open up a can of worms with my friend but plowed on anyway. “Have you ever been in love?”
I probably wouldn’t have gotten a stranger look from my friend if I’d asked him to cover me in peanut butter and roll me out into the garden to feed the birds.
“What the hell, Sebastianos?” He gave me a look of horror. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hear me out, and for god’s sake, take something besides national security serious for a moment.”
He leaned back in his seat, still looking ill at ease. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll listen.”
Inhaling deeply, I plowed on. “Iliana asked me the other day if I’d ever said ‘I love you’ to a woman. At first, I thought she was having some female hormone overload thing, but the thought occurred to me that I’d never even come close to feeling anything more than minor affection for a woman. Sure, I’ve loved certain things about women, but I’ve never loved one. Not even close. Is that fucked up?”
Nate lifted his hands palms up. “No clue. But if you’re fucked up, I’m fucked up too, so maybe I’m not the best person to ask.” He peered at me closer. “But I think there’s a bigger question here. It doesn’t matter if you’ve loved someone or not. What matters is if you think you’re capable of it.”
I frowned. In the twenty-five years Nate and I had been best friends, we’d never had this serious of a conversation. It was fucking uncomfortable. And fucking needed.
“That sounds a little fatalistic, but maybe? Am I somehow broken?”
“I don’t know man,” he said, shifting his weight in his seat. “Have I ever seen you all flowery and shit over a woman? Not really. Well, not since Agnes Grace in the fifth grade.”
Claiming My Duchess Page 23
