Royal Elite: Leander (17 page)

“If you were so sure there's no threat left, you wouldn't be so worried about me going,” Leander said in a quiet voice.

Wynn realized he was right. Partly. “Of course I'm worried. You almost just died. Twice if you count the threat on Ahsan's plane. I want you home where I can see and feel you.” She threw a hand wide in exasperation, then paced through the middle of the sectionals and chairs. The shades over the oval windows had been shuttered against the dark night sky, leaving low lit lamps and running lights to illuminate the interior of the plane.

“And I'll be there—as soon as I know the others are safely out of Serbia.”

“Why are you being so truculent? What's wrong with giving me what I want this time? Is it your dad? Are you still upset over seeing him again?” Wynn knew it was more than the virus situation; Leander had been closed off and moody ever since boarding the jet.

Leander pinched the bridge of his nose. A telling gesture. “I don't want to talk about my dad right now.”

“Well, I don't want you to put your life at risk again so soon,” Wynn countered.

“I'm not putting my life at risk by providing extra security, an extra set of eyes and senses. Extra input. This is what they pay me for.”

“You don't need to work for them anymore, do you? You've put more than enough away—or at least that's what I assume, since you've always got money when you need it.” The truth of it was, Wynn had no idea what kind of money Leander made 'working' for the Ahtissari brothers. It was one of the topics Leander didn't discuss. He paid for everything when they went out, bought her clothes and jewelry and things for the cottage, but otherwise never mentioned a paycheck.

“No, I don't
need
it. Do you know why? It may not seem so, but my father is a
very
rich man. He set up trusts for me long ago that pay handsomely once a month. Blood money, Wynn, from the diseases and viruses and crap he works on, things that obliterate entire villages and populations. I can't bring myself to touch any of it, except on certain occasions, so I started doing what I do because I'm good at it and because I'm an asset to the kingdom of Latvala. I'm needed here, wanted here, and you know me well enough to know that I can't sit around and do nothing with my life. I'm not that man.” Thrusting up out of the chair, he stalked to the kitchenette and snagged a bottle of water out of the fridge. Twisting off the cap, he tilted the bottle up and drank half before he was done. He added, “Before I met Mattias and Sander, I did the same kind of thing for other affluent families, gaining expertise and experience. 'Jobs' that paid very, very well. I socked away all that cash so that I wouldn't have to use money from the trust unless I thought it would benefit saving someone else. That's all I ever use it for. Somehow it seems right, like balancing fate.”

Wynn understood a lot more about Leander in that moment than she ever had. His secrets were not easy ones to tell and, judging by his restlessness and agitation, took more of a toll than he let on. She imagined it was easy for him to put thoughts of his father and his life aside when he was busy and working—all the more reason for him to seek out danger. It troubled her that they'd been together more than a year now and she was only just discovering these unknown traits. Too many secrets, Wynn thought, did not a healthy relationship make. Yet until now, when danger presented itself, their relationship had not undergone hardship. For all the things she hadn't known about Leander, those details didn't make a difference until it reached a critical, personal point. Leander put her first above all else barring his infrequent, unexplained trips abroad. He was kind, nurturing, funny, mildly sarcastic and above all, made no bones about how much he adored her.

“So how pissed are you?” Standing with his back to her, holding the capped bottle at waist level, Leander flipped open a shade and stared out one of the oval windows to the darkness outside.

Wynn approached on silent feet. Directly behind him, she took in all the things she loved about her fiance: his taller height, the neck length brown hair she loved to run her fingers through, his broad shoulders and lean waist. The sense that no matter what adversary came their way, he would—and
could—
slay them all.

“I'm not pissed. I'm just madly in love with you. I care, I fret, I worry that one day, you won't come home. If I was off in dangerous situations, I'd like to think that you'd worry if I would come home, too.” Wynn set her fingers between Leander's shoulder blades and drew a light line down to the base of his spine. Beneath her fingertips, he shuddered. “And I was thinking that there were quite a few things I didn't know about you. Wondering, also, how many more there might be.”

He set the bottle on a small end table and turned around, staring down his cheeks into her eyes. “I think that's pretty much it, to be honest. My dad was the one thing I don't like to talk about with anyone. Not even Mattias knows all the details. Well, he didn't.”

“Is that why there were so many people who couldn't decide if your dad was a banking mogul, entertainment deity or a secret member of a royal family?” Wynn had heard all those variations and more. She crooned a quiet sound when he cupped each side of her face in his calloused palms.

“I spread the disinformation as far and wide as I could. As far as I'm concerned, people can keep wondering just how I'm 'connected' to the upper echelon of society. Mattias and Sander and my other brothers know now, and I won't hold the truth back from them any longer. Everyone else can bite me.” He bent his head to kiss her, a warm press of lips that became a hot press of his tongue, seeking invasion.

Wynn let him in. She opened under his gentle but insistent assault, clinging to his hips with more force than he held onto her face. The reprieve was over too soon.

Breaking away, leaving just an inch between their mouths, Leander searched her eyes. “I'll stay.”

Wynn's lips trembled with a smile at his offer. It occurred to her then that trying to tame Leander was somewhat like trying to tame a wild lion. Watching him pace the cage, desperate to be free to do what he did best, would likely kill Wynn. Slowly. Leander no more belonged in a cage than did any wild animal, repressed and subdued, half the man he wanted to be. He needed challenge and risk and places to expend his considerable skill. Not just for money, but because it was part of his blood.

“Tell the pilots to head to Serbia,” she finally said, coming to terms and to a certain peace within herself about the decision.

“What made you change your mind?” He cocked his head and brushed another kiss over her mouth.

“Because if there's anything I've discovered in all this, it's that
this
is what makes you, you. Leander Morgan wasn't built to be contained. He was built to use his talents and skill and I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner.”

“You didn't
know,
exactly,” he reminded her.

Wynn smiled, returning another kiss. “No, but I do now, and it changes everything. I'll worry and fret and all the things I do, because that's part of what makes me,
me.”

“A very tempting you, I might add,” he said with a glance at the closed bedroom door, then to the upward seating where the stewardess sat watching a movie with headphones on until needed.

“We are not, I repeat
not
having sex in the kitchenette.”

“Aren't we?” The wild smile he turned back to her was full of wicked mischief.

“I have no idea where you're taking me, Chey, but it better be good,” Wynn said. She reached up to touch the blindfold covering her eyes. A day had passed since dropping Leander off in Serbia and arriving home to Latvala. One day past without information or a phone call from Leander, and one day closer to their wedding. Wynn had spent the time staying busy while Chey caught up to duties at the castle, and now, mid-afternoon with the sun shining high overhead and sea spray sprinkling her cheek, Wynn had no idea where she was going. She knew they were on a boat crossing the bay from Pallan Island to the mainland and that was all.

Lunch, perhaps. Or a second surprise bridal shower. Chey had already thrown one.

“You'll just have to wait and see,” Chey said with a cocky flare to her voice.

“Do you know how much stuff I have left to do? The entire church has to be decorated before day after tomorrow!” Wynn, thanks to her deviation in schedule with the trip out west, was woefully behind with the wedding plans.

“Yes, yes, yes. I've heard it a hundred times since we boarded the boat! I told you I'd gather the girls tomorrow and we'll help,” Chey said. “We're almost to the docks.”

Transferring carefully from the boat to the docks, and then into a limousine, Wynn grumped and groaned but was secretly thrilled at the unknown surprise. She needed it to keep from thinking about Leander non-stop. She knew Chey was feeling the same pressure thanks to Sander's continued absence.

Sometime between now and midnight, this very day, their men should be home.
Should
be. Wynn was counting every second.

Although Wynn couldn't see past the blindfold, she knew what the docks looked like, as well as the landscape of the mainland. Latvala was a country of long winters, broad vistas and beautiful, rugged terrain. Mountains ranged through the latter half of the nation, followed by hinterlands. Dotted by quaint villages and rocky outcroppings, the coastal region was one of Wynn's favorite places in all of Latvala. She pictured the imagery in her mind's eye, attempting to figure out their destination.

The limousine sped away from the docks, winding through a city—though Wynn couldn't be sure which one, exactly, since many had docks—before hitting a straightaway and picking up speed.

“Know where we are yet?” Chey asked.

“No. How am I supposed to know that? Wait! A shopping trip! We're going to buy yet
another
lacy-stringy-scrap of something that barely covers anything because the fifty I got for my bridal shower weren't enough.” Wynn wouldn't be opposed to a shopping excursion if she didn't have so much to do for the wedding.

“Maybe,” Chey said, remaining vague.

Wynn exhaled, long and suffering, just because she knew it would amuse Chey. Then, in a turn of seriousness, she asked, “How are you doing knowing the guys are off doing dangerous things?”

“I'm dealing. There's no way Sander can keep doing this, so I know that once he's back, it'll take war or something close for him to put himself in jeopardy again. I don't know how you do it, Wynn. And when you told me that you gave him your blessing, I almost fell off my chair.”

“You can't believe what it took for me to get to that point. It was an entire coming around, moving from one emotion to another. I'll still worry, and it's strange to know he's doing something so important that I can't be a part of in some other country. I mean, I don't even know if they've taken off, or found out who arranged all this, and whether Leander is dealing with that himself or if he's with Mattias. It was almost better to
be
there, because then at least I knew what was going on.”

“I agree. It
was
better to be there. I'm not sure I could ever give Sander my blessing though, not when it means the end of his reign if he dies.”

“Leander doesn't have all that to worry about. I guess that's probably what makes his 'job' easier.” Wynn drew the tip of her tongue across the edge of her teeth. “And you know, I likened it to caging up a lion. What it would be like for Leander if I demanded he stop doing what he loves. I could see him so clearly in my mind's eye, pacing the cottage and the grounds, perpetually restless. It made my heart hurt. So I decided to just suck it up. I won't ever be able to know
all
the details of his missions, and that's just something I'll have to live with.”

“I didn't think about it like that,” Chey said in a thoughtful voice.

“Even if you felt the same about Sander, the situation is still different. Sander's got a kingdom to run and be responsible for.”

“Yes. Maybe he can do...smaller things. Not as dangerous.”

Wynn smiled, reaching up to adjust the blindfold without removing it. “You start to realize that the action and challenge is something they crave, like some men crave football or horse races or climbing mount everest. It's what they like, or love, and in the end, it was just too hard to say no.”

“We could always make them take us along,” Chey said in a teasing voice.

Wynn laughed. “As if they'd
ever
go for that.”

“Sometimes they don't always get what they want,” Chey announced.

Wynn snorted. “Who are we kidding? We give them
everything
they want.”

“I know. It's true,” Chey agreed with a laugh. “But don't tell them I said so. They need to think we're in charge.”

A moment later, the limousine began to slow. Chey said, “We're here.”

. . .

Exiting the limousine, hand tucked into Chey's for guidance, Wynn listened for her first clues. All she heard was the bustling wind. No car horns, no sounds of foot traffic, no plethora of engines gunning at a red light.

If this was a shopping district, it was the quietest one Wynn ever heard.

“Okay. Get ready.”

Scents of wildflowers and tall grass hit Wynn just as Chey brought her to a halt. Wynn frowned, then reached up with one hand, ready to rip the blindfold off. “Where the heck are we--”

“Take the blindfold off and find out,” Chey said, loosening the tie at the back.

Gasping as the wrap of satin fell away, Wynn took in the sight of the lovely stone church. The one she'd wanted to show Leander—the same one she was woefully behind decorating. Sitting alone in a meadow, flanked in the distance by a treeline and snow capped mountains, the old stone church sported stunning stained glass windows and a high spire. Leander hadn't wanted to marry in a church at all, but Wynn loved this place so. What made it heartwarming and striking were the swags of netting and arch of ivy over the double doors. A length of creamy satin spanned the steps for the bride to ascend, just as Wynn wanted. Chey had, somehow, someway, already done the majority of the decorating. Little twinkle lights shined within the netting and the ivy both, a charming addition to the décor.