Cherished (21 page)

Nico’s expression darkened. “We have no prime minister. He is not recognized by our people.”

Xander held up a hand. “Let me finish. All isn’t well with the new regime. The people are indeed very unhappy with the direction that the insurgents are going. They want the royal family reinstalled. What was an effort to overthrow the monarchy with as little bloodshed as possible, apart from the assassination of my father,” he added bitterly, “has now led to full-scale rioting and revolting in the streets of the capital. It’s out of control and it’s only going to get worse. The insurgents are basically waving the white flag.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Nico demanded.

“What it means is that they’re proposing a truce…and a compromise.”

Nico sank into one of the armchairs. Garon was still standing, arms locked over his barrel chest while Sebastien stared angrily out the window. They were all loyal to Xander. To the royal family. They’d been loyal to Xander’s father. They were loyal to their country. They hated that Xander had been forced out of the country and that he’d bided his time here, so many miles away while his country and people needed him.

“And what is this compromise?” Nico asked wearily.

“They’ll reinstall the monarchy. My mother and sister will return to the palace. I’ll be crowned king.”

“That’s not a compromise. That’s capitulation,” Nico said.

“Yes, well there’s a catch,” Xander said grimly. “They want to establish a congress of sorts who will govern alongside the king or act in an advisory capacity and reserve the right to have a vote of confidence if at any time they feel the king is not acting in the best interests of the country. The other thing? They want me there immediately to attend a full-scale media event announcing my return.”

Nico stared back at him in shock. For a moment he didn’t speak at all. He seemed to struggle with his reaction, almost as if he didn’t want Xander to know his true feelings.

“Say what’s on your mind, Nico,” Xander said quietly. “You won’t have said anything Garon and Bastien haven’t already said, I’m sure.”

“What about Talia?” Nico asked.

“I don’t know,” Xander said honestly.

It frustrated that the answer wasn’t cut and dried. Not simple. He could rail against the fairness of having to choose between a woman who meant everything to him and the future of his country and fulfilling his destiny, but he’d always known that he would face tough decisions. He’d always known his life wasn’t his own.

He didn’t have the luxury of choice. Many choices had been made for him at birth. He didn’t waste time lamenting it. It was his life.

He couldn’t turn his back on this. It was what he’d waited for. The opportunity to return to his country. To have his mother and sister safely back behind palace walls. To lead his country as he’d been meant to do.

“I must return immediately,” Xander said in a low voice. “I can’t delay. Too much is at stake.”

Garon’s lips thinned. Sebastien turned from his place by the window, his mouth twisted into a frown.

“And Talia?” Nico said. “Where does she fit into all of this?”

“I can’t—I
won’t
—expose her to such a volatile situation. I won’t have her associated with me in any way. If they knew I had any weaknesses at all, they would exploit them in a heartbeat. They’d drag Talia through the mud and have no mercy in doing so. She could even be in very real danger if it was determined she had any meaning to me. They’d use her to make me capitulate to any and all of their demands and they’d have no compunction in doing whatever was necessary to her to gain that capitulation. These are the men who ruthlessly murdered my father, their king. One young girl means nothing to them. I cannot risk her. I won’t risk her. She may mean nothing to them, but she is everything to me.”

There was silence in the room. Xander knew that his men had no more liking for the situation than he did. He could sense their frustration. It coiled and snapped like a living, breathing entity in the small confines of his office.

“She must return to Paris at once. Discreetly of course. None of you can accompany her. She must return the way she came. It’s widely known that I am never without any of you. If one of you is seen in Paris or it’s known you weren’t with me in such an important time, it will open the door to investigation, and I won’t risk Talia that way.”

Garon let out a curse that was picked up by Sebastien and was explosive in the room.

“Goddamn it, Xander, she’s going to think we used her,” Garon snarled.

Xander wanted to put his fist through the wall. He sat there a long moment, trying to control the rage and helplessness that was boiling through his veins. He hated the helplessness.

Finally he spoke, but he knew his voice was tight and not his
own. “I can’t know what can be done until I return to Cristofino and assess the situation there. And in the meantime, I will
not
risk any harm coming to Talia, nor would I have her exposed to a media feeding frenzy. She deserves none of that.”

“And what are you going to tell her, Xander?” Sebastien asked. “The truth?”

Xander expelled a long breath. “I can only tell her that I am terminating our agreement early and that she is free to return home to her mother.”

Chapter 22

Talia lay on her stomach, pillow shoved under her chin as she stared out the big picture window to the splash of blue in the distant horizon. After having lain here for the last hour, she’d calmed down and lectured herself on overreacting.

She’d overheard two sentences with no context to draw from. She had no idea what Xander had been talking about and it was unfair—not to mention stupid—to fly off the handle when she had no idea what he’d really meant.

Now her mood was shattered and what should have been an otherwise beautiful day was in ruins because she’d gotten all emotional—and irrational.

It didn’t help that she simply didn’t know her place in this new world she’d been dumped into. Words were just words. And she’d heard them often. But what if she was a naïve twit who’d believe anything said to her as long as it was accompanied by sweet gestures and a gentle hand?

But the flip side of that was that perhaps she was reading way
too much into an overheard snippet of conversation and as a result she was overreacting and being a cynical bitch.

She sucked in a deep breath and squared her shoulders—as much as she could lying sprawled across the bed, her chin dug into one of the plump pillows.

Enough was enough. She was not going to spend the day moping, nor would she allow this incident to make her second-guess every single aspect of her time here.

She’d simply ask Xander what he’d meant. She’d tell him what she’d heard and go from there. It was a simple enough solution, and it was what she should have done from the onset rather than spend an hour sulking in the bedroom.

Feeling marginally better about having a plan of action, she pushed upward from the pillow, shoved her hair that had fallen forward from her face and started to roll to her side so she could get up.

She froze when she saw Xander standing in the doorway of the bedroom, a grim expression on his face.

There was something off in his demeanor. Something that sent a curl of dread through her stomach and into her chest. Her optimism of just moments before evaporated, and her anxiety level shot through the roof.

“Nico said you were feeling unwell,” he said, still not moving from his post at the door.

That wasn’t like Xander. He rarely kept his distance from her. If they were in the same room, he was always touching her, or next to her. Often holding her or simply sitting beside her.

But he stood coolly aloof, surveying her with concern in his eyes and yet maintaining the distance between them.

“I’m all right now,” she said softly, a lie. “I woke with a headache, but it’s much better now.”

He stood a long moment in silence. With each passing second
her dread mounted because this was so unlike Xander. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong and this time she wasn’t going to scold herself for being paranoid.

“I’m releasing you from the contract you signed,” he said in a quiet tone.

Her heart bottomed out and she stared at him, sure she hadn’t heard correctly. A million questions buzzed through her mind but the only thing she could croak out was, “Why?”

“Things have changed. I must return to Cristofino. I’ve already made arrangements for you to be transported back to Paris—and your mother. I’ve let her know you’ll be returning. She’s looking forward to seeing you.”

She pushed herself into a sitting position, stunned. So horribly stunned that she couldn’t even manage a coherent thought, much less respond to the bombshell he’d just dumped on her.

She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to ask him what had changed. She wanted to ask him if it had all been a lie, but she didn’t want to open herself to that kind of humiliation. She was humiliated enough.

She had pride. She may have foregone it to have ever entered into this devil’s bargain, but it didn’t mean she had none left. There was no way she was going to beg. She already felt like dying and she wasn’t going to add to her misery by making an embarrassing scene.

It took everything she possessed to pull herself together and not to lose it right there in front of him. She’d never felt so used and degraded in her life. But he didn’t have to know that. By God, she’d leave here with her head held high and he’d never, never know that he’d made her feel so worthless. She’d never give him that satisfaction.

“When do you want me to leave,” she said calmly.

“The plane will arrive for you this afternoon.”

She couldn’t control the flinch no matter how much she didn’t
want him to see her pain. It would seem he couldn’t wait to get her out of his life.

Temporary diversion. Plaything. Whore.

It would appear that all of those things were indeed true.

He was now poised to resume his life and she was supposed to resume hers. As if none of this had happened. As if she hadn’t had her life completely changed by the months she’d spent here.

She slid from the bed, afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her up. She put one hand down onto the mattress so she didn’t go down as she faced him with what little pride she had in reserve.

“Will I be able to say good-bye to Garon, Sebastien and Nico?”

She tried to keep her questions and responses to the bare minimum of words because the last thing she wanted was to break down in front of him. He could be a cold bastard. Well, so could she.

He looked away for a moment. “I think it would be best if you just went. It will be easier that way.”

Anger flashed, heating her veins. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. “Easier for who, Xander? You? Them? Are you saying they have no wish to say good-bye? Are you all that eager to have me gone?”

For a moment, just a flash, she saw what looked like pain flicker in his eyes but it was gone before she could even imagine that’s what it was.

“I’ll send Wickersham for you when the car arrives to take you to the airport,” he said just before he turned and walked quietly away.

Chapter 23

Talia didn’t wait for the summons from Xander. She no longer had any desire to say good-bye. She packed the small bag she’d brought with her and left everything that Xander had provided for her behind.

None of it was hers, and she wanted no reminders of her shame. All she would leave with was her purse, her identification and the small amount of cash she’d arrived with three months before. She’d need the taxi fare once she reached Paris.

The gifts, the jewelry, the clothes, the underwear, she left it all on the bed and hanging in the closet. And she walked down the stairs in a worn pair of jeans and a T-shirt, the only two things in her entire wardrobe here that belonged to her.

Wickersham met her at the bottom of the stairs and informed her that the car had arrived. He would have walked her out but she waved him away. She needed no assistance in leaving. She’d get into that damn car herself and she’d never look back.

She was numb as they drove away. So cold that even the heat of the midday sun couldn’t penetrate the icy shell that encased her.
She mechanically went through the motions of getting out of the car that bore her to the airstrip.

She barely remembered boarding the small jet or buckling herself into the seat. She closed the window shades, not wanting even a glimpse back at the island she was leaving. Nor did she want to think of
what
she was leaving behind.

Her heart. Her soul.

And she felt so incredibly stupid for allowing it to happen. For making herself so vulnerable and for believing in a fantasy. It was a hard lesson to learn but one she’d never forget.

She wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die, but she would never allow her mother to know of her heartbreak.

She dozed off and on during the flight to Paris, but mostly she stared at the closed window, reliving each and every moment of her time on the island.

Over and over she analyzed every word that had been said to her. Every touch. Every caress. Every thoughtful thing that had been done for her. The attention they lavished on her and how they’d spoiled her endlessly.

And the more she thought about it, the more befuddled she grew because it simply didn’t add up. Her brain hurt from trying to make sense of it.

By the time she landed, she was a walking zombie. She knew she looked terrible and as much as she wanted to go straight to the assisted-living community where her mother currently resided, she didn’t want her mother to see her this way.

Instead she directed the taxi to her small apartment in the Rive Gauche and when she stumbled inside the dark apartment that had been vacant for the last three months, only then did she allow the first tear to fall.

Chapter 24

Talia sat with her mother in the small living room of her mother’s apartment that overlooked the gardens of the assisted-living facility. They were enjoying an afternoon cup of tea, a routine that her mom always adhered to and one Talia found great comfort in.