“It’s only six,” Devon countered, sounding put out at the prospect of Tin going to bed, something he confirmed with his next words. “We were going to mess around together after dinner.”
“So? After all that traveling? He’ll be out until tomorrow,” Sawyer said with a grunt as he read through a file he had on his lap.
They were all doing something save for Sean who, technically, was doing something too—drinking.
He intended to get drunk.
Rip-roaring drunk on very fine Armagnac.
There had to be some advantage to staying at the private home of a Duke, for Christ’s sake.
“I wanted to play with him,” Devon repeated, pouting at having his playmate snatched away by the Sandman. Sean’s lips curved at the truculent tone—even in his deepest, darkest moods, Devon could usually shine a light onto the quagmire.
“You don’t want to play with him. Not when he’s tired. You know how whiny he gets,” Andrei pointed out.
Sawyer snorted. “Devon definitely knows, because that’s a trait Tin gets from him.”
Devon scowled. “That makes no sense. I don’t sleep and I’m not whiny.”
“You are with Sascha.”
“Since when?”
“Sascha.” Sawyer mocked Devon’s English voice, and did a good job of it, too, considering he was a Scot, “I didn’t sleep last night. Can you suck my cock? That will put me out better than Valium. Sascha, I need to leave the house, will you hold my hand when we go out? You can ride my face in the car on the way back if you want to.”
Though Sean wasn’t in the mood for laughing, he had to join in at that—Sawyer’s jibes were too fucking true not to.
Devon sulked for a second, his brow furrowing as he stated, “I don’t ask her to suck my cock. She just does it.”
“Lucky bastard,” Sawyer grumbled.
“Like she doesn’t suck yours,” Devon retorted. “I saw her the other day at Vasily’s. You didn’t look like you weren’t being coddled.”
Sawyer shrugged. “I was being coddled.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“No problem,” Sawyer retorted with a grin. “Just saying how it is.”
Kurt cleared his throat. “He’s only teasing you, Devon.”
Sean’s heart skipped a beat. Kurt—always the pacifist.
“Why, though?”
Kurt sighed. “Because he’s a shit?”
That had Devon nodding in complete understanding. “Oh. Right. That makes sense.” He rubbed his chin. “I still wanted to mess around with Tin.”
“You can tomorrow.”
Sascha’s voice had Sean looking over at the doorway where the love of his fucking life stood watching over them. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, but from the amused quirk to her lips, it was quite a while.
She moved into the room, ignoring the other seats, and focused on the sofa where he was seated. As he’d known she would.
Sascha had some kind of inbuilt radar where they were concerned. It was something they’d all remarked upon over the years. She knew when one of them was down, knew when one of them was pissed. She’d appear, either with cake, a smile, or a sexy skirt, and she’d make them feel better.
Sascha was…
Well, she was a tonic, and they’d let her down.
That’s all they kept on doing. Letting her fucking down. If he didn’t love her so bloody much, he’d let her go. That was how hard this latest development was hitting him. He’d brought danger into their world, and he’d never forgiven himself for that.
Lifting an arm when she pressed into him, he curved it around her shoulders, loving how she nuzzled into him.
“Where were you?” he asked softly.
“I met the Queen,” she replied, a slight laugh in her tone.
“You did?” Andrei butted in, sounding surprised.
“Yep.”
“I didn’t realize they were here.” He tilted his head to the side. “We’ve been in here since we finished the tour earlier.”
“Getting drunk by the looks of it,” she stated, eying the tumbler in Sean’s hand. “It’s not like you to drink, sugar.”
No. It wasn’t. He hadn’t gotten drunk since Camilla’s death, but it was that kind of day.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Bad day.”
“Really? You’ve been with us—I didn’t see anything wrong.”
He shrugged. “The trouble with being online all the time.” That was the problem with flying private, there was easily accessible internet. Where he could have remained in ignorance for an extra few hours, instead he’d learned the unpalatable truth while stuck fifty thousand feet above the ground.
“What happened?”
Releasing a breath, he murmured, “Nothing. I’m just processing some emails I received earlier.”
Sascha studied him, and reading between the lines, hazarded a guess, “Processing what happened with Vasily?” Though they shared a look, the memory went unspoken.
Horowich, the journalist who’d been stalking their family, hanging from a hook. Beaten to shit. Black and bloody for his crimes against Sascha and the daughter she’d been carrying. The child who’d died because Horowich had tried to insinuate his way into their lives. For a story. Nothing more, nothing less, than a desire for front page news.
“Yeah,” he admitted, and it was only half a lie. He’d sanctioned the kidnapping of a murderer… that was something to process, but it wasn’t the topic at the forefront of his mind. He just didn’t want to share that with her yet. Hell, he couldn’t.
After the situation with Horowich, how could he reveal this to her?
“Well, I’m glad it’s hitting you hard. So it should.”
His lips twitched, and he was doubly glad he’d kept quiet now. “I’m glad I can rely on you to keep me grounded.”
She shrugged. “You wouldn’t be normal if it didn’t affect you.”
“I’m okay,” Andrei protested.
“And you’re not normal,” she countered, but there was a faintly amused note to her voice. “How can you be, growing up with Vasily as an influence?”
That had him scowling at her. “I’m not a sociopath.”
“I concur, he isn’t,” Sean stated drily. “He’s just desensitized to violence.”
“Didn’t need a degree in psychology to figure that one out, bud,” Sascha retorted.
“What are you guys talking about?” Devon piped up, and Sawyer looked over at them, curiosity in his eyes.
Sean cleared his throat, well aware that Devon and Sawyer were in the dark where this topic was concerned. Wanting to keep it that way, he said simply, “I happened upon one of Vasily’s business transactions.”
Sawyer’s eyes widened. “Shit. I missed it?”
“Be grateful you did,” Sascha said with a huff, and Sean had to admit he loved how uncomfortable she sounded. She didn’t like hiding things from them. Didn’t like it one bit, and it was evident in the tension in her frame. “It was like something from Fight Club.”
“Shit, now I’m really pissed I missed it.”
“And I’m the bloodthirsty one?” Andrei responded with a grumble, the papers in his hand rustling with his irritation.
Sawyer flipped him the bird.
“What happened?” Devon inquired, his head tilted to the side and his eyes narrowed in such a way that told Sean this topic wasn’t about to die a death.
Dread filled him as well as shame, but before he could blurt out his sins, Sascha murmured, “They took out the trash.”
Sawyer grimaced. “You’re shite with the details, lass.”
“Let’s be grateful for small mercies, ja?” Kurt threw in, cutting Sean a look that had him tensing. Had Sascha told Kurt what had been going on?
Unease filled him. “Best to let sleeping dogs lie, Devon.”
“That would make far more sense if it was children.”
It was a testament to how out of sorts
Sean was that he didn’t understand what Devon was talking about. Scowling at his best friend and brother, he asked, “Children?”
“Why would it be an issue if you woke a dog up. Now a baby? One that’s teething and just fell asleep?” Devon shook his head. “Tin made me wish we could give babies Valium.”
Sascha snickered. “Your ma tried to convince me to dope him with whiskey, Sawyer.”
That had him rolling his eyes. “Get them hooked while they’re young. A fine Scottish tradition. She’ll do the same with haggis. Just you watch.”
Sascha’s nose crinkled. “No way is my son eating bits of bits of bits of animals.”
“Bits of bits of bits? You do realize you consume those every time you eat those crappy hotdog sausages?”
“I’m feeling judged for my choice of hotdog,” Sascha retorted, pinning Andrei with a glare. “Do I say anything about all the vodka you drink when you’re in Russia? Nope. I don’t say jack so don’t judge my hotdogs.”
Andrei smirked. “You’re judging Sawyer’s haggis.”
The Scot raised his hands. “Don’t get me involved in this fight—especially not over haggis. Now, blood sausage? I’ll fight yer to the death, Yankee.”
“How many times,” Sascha grumbled. “I’m not a Yankee. I’m from the West Coast. I’m from Arizona, for fuck’s sake.”
Sean lifted his glass to his lips and took a deep sip of the liquor he’d been consuming since the butler had shown them into this room an hour or so ago. Covering his smile, he watched as Braveheart went to the wall with Merida from Brave—Sean knew all the Disney flicks now thanks to Tin.
As the two squinted at each other, Devon butted in, “You like Yankee Candles, Sascha.”
“So? What does one have to do with the other?” Kurt inquired, peering over his specs in confusion. “It’s just a name.”
Devon shrugged. “They’re candles. From America.”
Sascha snickered. “You’re so literal sometimes.”
He sighed. “You’re only just realizing that now?”
“Was that a joke?” She released a false gasp and clapped a hand to her chest. “Be still my heart.”
“No, don’t be still,” Devon blurted out, eyes flaring wide with sudden distress. “Keep it beating!”
Sascha softened and slipped out of her seat, headed over to Devon, and as smooth as silk, lowered herself onto Devon’s lap. She reached up to kiss him, then said, “It will beat as long as yours does, Devon.”
He frowned at that. “I’m older than you, Sascha.”
“So?”
“So? We have a son. You need to live for him.”
“Well, this got existential pretty fucking quickly,” Andrei commented on a low laugh. “Can we talk about something far less deep? Like how Sascha accidentally met the Queen of Veronia and we didn’t know about it?”
Sascha turned to look at Andrei and shrugged. “We bumped into each other in the hallway.”
“You bumped into her in the hallway and were with her for ninety minutes?” Andrei cocked a brow. “Pull the other one.”
“The other what?” Devon questioned.
Sawyer hissed out a breath. “Shut up. You and your damn phrases. I swear. How can you remember all those codes and forget metaphors and sayings?”
Devon grinned. “It’s an art form.”
“It’s a pain in the ass is what it is,” Sascha told him, but she softened the words by pressing a kiss to the end of Devon’s nose.
She wasn’t the only one softening.
Sean felt everything inside of him relax at the way she handled Devon. She was always so at ease with him. She never made him feel bad for being a little unusual, she accepted him—flaws and all. Even if, as she’d said, some of those flaws were a supreme pain in the arse.
“Let’s get back on track,” Kurt retorted, sitting up in his seat. “The Queen? Even I want to hear this one.”
“We got to talking about men.”
“Men?” Sean wasn’t the only one to tense up at that. “Why would you be talking about men?” he rasped.
Sascha peered down at her lap. “We both have them?”
Devon reached up to cup her chin, then he used that soft hold to tip her head back so she had to look him in the eye. “Explain,” he ordered, his tone unusually insistent.
She soughed out a little huff. “Do I have to?”
“Yeah. You told someone about us?” Andrei inquired, his brow furrowed. “I think we deserve a little clarification here. Especially considering we’re in Veronia on business.”
Sascha reached up and began tugging on her bottom lip, something she only did when she was running on nervous energy. “Perry’s like me. She’s got something similar going on, I mean.”
“Going on?” Kurt sighed. “Explain, Sascha.”
“I swear, you never stop yakking on, lass, but now when we need you to talk you go silent?”
She scowled at Sawyer. “I’ll remember that.”
“Please do,” he responded smugly. “And I’ll make sure you do in bed.”
Devon grunted. “Can we not turn this into a weird conversation about how you like to tie her up?”
There were many things wrong about this discussion, but Sean wasn’t sure what to focus on. Devon’s persistency in correlating the way Sawyer, Andrei, and he got off on ‘tying’ Sascha up, as he phrased it, with the way his father had beaten and terrorized his mother was a gross concern. But the fact Sascha might have revealed their secret to another person was equally as worrying.
“Are you trying to tell me that the Queen has more than one man?” Sawyer pressed, bringing their conversation back to the original concern.
Sawyer’s disbelief had Sascha scowling at him, then with a huff, she got to her feet and headed over to the fire. For a second, she stared down into it. The quiet in the room was broken only by the crackling flames, but all eyes were on her. On Sascha. The woman.
“You can’t think we’re the only people in the world like this,” she said after a few moments more of silence.
“Nay, lass, I dinnae think that, but I dinnae think the King of a feckin’ country would be—” He looked like a goldfish with his mouth opening and closing the way it was. “I mean, are you trying to say that—”
She shot him a dirty look, then, she winced and, slouching back over to Sean and curving herself into him, admitted, “I walked into the wrong room. Saw something I shouldn’t have.” She cleared her throat. “Tin did too. It was… awkward.”
What Sascha had just revealed held great importance.
They kept their secret under wraps for a reason, and Sean was certain the royal family did the same.
This could affect them all. Their lives, their careers… Not that he wanted to think about his career at the moment.
Fuck.
Maybe this was the exact distraction he needed.
Chapter Two
Sean’s nostrils flared but her words had his eyes twinkling with amusement. Amusement was better than the Inquisition she’d just been dealing with, and it was a relief, truth be told. Not only because she didn’t appreciate feeling like she was under arrest, but also because something was going on with him.
Sean wasn’t a heavy drinker. Not at all. Yet here he was again, drowning his sorrows in alcohol. That wasn’t like him, and at least her barging in on a very royal kissing session had interrupted his train of thought.
Right from the beginning of their relationship, Sascha had been able to discern who needed her the most.
They were men, after all. Shit at sharing their feelings, impossible to make open up unless they were ready to talk, which was never. She could read them, though. And yeah, that sounded like BS spouted in romance books, but she could.
Sean? He got this tick in his left eye. It flickered and fluttered. Sawyer? He’d crack his knuckles. Andrei’s accent deepened, which was the most noticeable because he spoke with a sharp English accent, so even the hint of Russian had her on red alert. Kur
t’s accent would deepen too, but he’d start jogging more and he hated jogging, so that was a big clue. Kurt would also hang around in the kitchen if he was ill at ease or uncomfortable with something, wanting to be around her rather than his problem—be it with an editor, his publisher, or a character in one of his books.
Devon?
Well, Devon was rarely stressed in a regular way. Thank God. His meltdowns were few and far between, but when they happened, the entire house quaked. He looked at her as though she could solve the mysterious labyrinth that was his brain, could rip apart his demons, and bring peace to his world like she’d soothe an itchy rash with calamine lotion.
She wasn’t an angel, far from it, but Devon? He looked at her as though she was.
“What did you see?” Sean asked, reminding her that, until now, his left eye had been ticking so damn much, he’d looked like he’d been fluttering his lashes at her.
Well, the lashes on the left side.
Yeah, it looked damn odd, and Sean? Nothing about him was odd. He was hot. With a capital H.
“Perry making out with the Duke,” she whispered, her cheeks turning pink at the memory, “and then the King, Edward, walked in so I knew she wasn’t cheating but that it was a thing, you know?”
“Why are your cheeks pink?” Devon inquired. “You’ve seen far worse than that, Sascha.”
“Yes, you’ve well and truly ruptured any and all of my innocence, Devon, fear not. I’m just remembering how goddamn embarrassed I was.
“Me and Tin were standing in the doorway, I saw them kissing, then the King walked in, then just when I think my heart was about to explode, Tin went and told me that he needed to go potty.” Sascha slapped her hand against her head as the room erupted into laughter. “Trust me, we’re never being anyone’s guests ever again.”
Sean, amid his laughter, hugged her tightly into his side. “Tin really said that?”
“You bet he did. After making several comments about kissing.” She rubbed her temple. “Anyway, when you have an introduction like that, things progress quite quickly. She’s pregnant and wants Tin to meet her daughter, Alice. They’re the same age.”
Sean: Quintessence The Sequel: Part IV Page 2
