Going Royal 02 - Some Like It Scandalous (23 page)

Pausing at the bar, Armand poured himself a drink and tossed it back. Exhaustion wore at him. He’d leaned hard on Anna tonight and she kept him going. He couldn’t believe he forgot about his birthday—arriving to find her waiting for him in his bed—right down to the bow. He poured a second drink and carried it with him. The apartment was silent, and he stopped at her bedroom door and ran his fingers down the wood. He wanted to open it and go inside to her.

Trusting her didn’t seem so distant a concept after the night—but she wasn’t safe with him. Dragging his fingers away, he rubbed his face. They needed to put more resources into tracking down Richard’s attacker and eliminating this threat. If it meant declaring on Belarian television that he slept with goats, he needed that party to stop lobbying for his family’s return. Opening the door to his room, he found that a lamp burned next to the bed—low and friendly. Unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and balancing his drink with the other, he paused.

Anna lay sound asleep in the middle of his bed, curled on her side. His heart squeezed. Her dark hair spread over the pillows, deep shadows of fatigue smudged under her eyes. Quiet and slow, he walked over and set his drink down on the nightstand. A note propped against the clock actually dragged a weary smile from him.

It’s not your birthday
,
but I’m here anyway.

He stripped off his clothes, drained the drink and crawled in next to her. She rolled over and snuggled right into his arms. Even in sleep, she fit against him perfectly. His eyes drifted closed, he hadn’t thought sleep was possible when he left the hospital. But Richard was alive and Anna was in his arms.

It’s a lot better than a birthday.

Chapter Fifteen

She woke up to delicious tension coiling through her. Her body hummed with need.

His hands glided over her breasts, massaging, and his mouth followed. Every caress fluttered through her and when he sank into her, she arched up to meet him. Charlie’s mouth fastened over hers and they rocked together, riding the demanding rhythm until they surged together and tumbled over the precipice.

An hour later, they sat at the breakfast table. The thoughtful staff had left them a cold buffet of bagels, muffins and Danishes. The coffee was hot and fresh. Twice she caught him staring at her with raw, naked emotion in his eyes, but the look would shutter when their gazes collided. And so the next three days followed the same pattern. Every night she would go to bed alone—in his bed. The repeat of their past in Norway wasn’t lost on her. She might go to his bed alone, but the difference was he woke her in the night, always making love to her—a desperation and need in his touch that left her aching to fill the empty places inside him.

But as close as their nights brought them, the days pushed them apart. They shared breakfast and he would disappear into his office, to go to the hospital, to meet with the FBI. She learned belatedly that his brothers were no longer in residence at the tower, having been whisked away to the airport sometime in the night after Richard’s accident. Alyx called and left a message—she and Daniel would not be present during the opening fundraiser for the scholarship. She apologized, but her husband surprised her with a tropical second honeymoon to parts unknown.

She would be in touch. The sense of isolation grew. Anna kept her distance from her family, and Charlie cleared the decks.

The tension in the security staff heightened. She went to the hospital twice, always under heavy guard. The number of men on her detail increased the closer they came to the event night—because she was on-site meeting with event coordinators, inspecting the party setup, and a shorter trip to her house to fetch her dress, shoes and other accessories. Kyle offered to send one of his men to pick up her items, but when she pointed out they would have to go through her intimate personal belongings, he sent Kate. They were adamant that she not go and she didn’t want to argue with him.

The air was pregnant with the sense of waiting. The other shoe needed to drop. Kyle and two others followed her up the hospital hallway to Richard’s room. Two security officers stood outside the room. The LAPD maintained a uniform on scene. It turned out the police department was very fond of Richard Prentiss—she didn’t realize he represented the police department in numerous lawsuits, more often than not having mediated disastrous lawsuits into public-relations wins.

Knocking once, she waited for the murmured “come in” before opening the door. Kyle glanced in first, then held the door open for her. Richard looked like hell, but four days after life-saving surgery and being tumbled around in his vehicle like a margarita shaker, he was alive.

“Good morning—or is it afternoon?” Richard gave her a polite, if vaguely warm, smile. The bruises on his face were a collection of purple and blue, fading to green and yellow at the edges. A thin row of stitches vanished into his hairline and his right wrist was in a cast. The rest of his bandages were hidden beneath the dreadfully unflattering hospital gown.

“Afternoon.” Anna pulled a chair over to the side of the bed. A hint of Charlie’s aftershave still lingered amid the antiseptic hospital scents. It didn’t surprise her, she knew he came every single day—sometimes twice. “Actually, it’s late afternoon. The party is in a few hours.”

“Sorry I’m going to miss it.” But the dry humor in the words amused her.

“Four times the security, press that is already camped out to catch early arrivals, and a guest list that features everything from celebrities to foreign dignitaries?” She lifted her eyebrows.

“Okay. Not that sorry.” He chuckled briefly, but the laugh quickly turned to a wince and a cough. “Sorry—hurts to laugh.”

“Then I’ll try not to be funny.” She set her purse down and clasped her hands together. She thought about this visit several times on the ride over, but she was here as much to see him and have the tangible proof that he was still with them as she was to talk to him.

“How’s he doing?” Richard’s gaze fixed on her steadily.

“I don’t know. He’s...retreating and isolating himself. I keep thinking we get a little closer and then he pushes me away again.” Moistening her lips, Anna shook her head. It was so much more than that. At night, in his bed, he held her, made love to her, let her be there for him and it was perfect. But during the day, he may as well have been a million miles away. He’d erected a wall between them—a wall with no gates, no windows, no place to pass through—and she didn’t know how to bring it down.

If she could.

“It’s been a hard week for him.” Richard leaned his head back against the pillows, his eyes drifting half-closed. She thought he drifted into sleep, but then he spoke. “Ask, Anna.”

“Am I that transparent?” Guilt nibbled at her, the attorney needed to recover.

“No, but caring about him isn’t always easy.” His eyes opened. “So ask. I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“He’s pushing me away—but I don’t think he wants me to go. I told him I loved him and it was perfect and magical and then cold and distant. He’s giving me a million reasons to leave.”

“And you are looking for one to stay?” He sighed at her slow nod. “I can’t answer that for you—or for him. One of the reasons our friendship works is he trusts me to keep his confidences.”

“Do I have a reason to hope? That I haven’t inescapably screwed this up for us? I—I had this feeling in his office that day that he wanted something from me. And then later... There are moments when he’s Charlie and others where he’s not.” Anna rubbed a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “I feel like I know him so very well and at other times...he’s a complete stranger.”

“He’s a man, Anna. He’s the same man he’s always been.” Richard shifted in the bed, reaching for the remote, and she leaned forward to nudge it closer. He gave her a small smile of gratitude and then hit the button to sit the headrest up. His face went pale with the struggle, but he looked at her steadily. “But that’s not really what you want to know.”

Does he love me?
If he did—if he loved her—that was reason enough to stay, to do everything she could to make the past up to him. To prove to him every day that she wouldn’t leave this time.

And if he doesn’t...

Then maybe they could bury all this pain between them and really get on with their lives. That thought made her ill. She’d convinced herself for years that she was better off without him.

She didn’t think she could do it twice.

“I should let you rest.”

“You should talk to him.”

“I’ve tried,” she snapped, then bit her lip with a grimace. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. I have tried to talk to him. I told him I love him and every time I do he shuts down. It’s like he’s trying to box me up and close the walls in and keep me from getting too close. I hurt him, Rick. I know I did. I can’t take back what I did—I can’t give him back those ten years after I walked away. I don’t even know where to start. But I love him. I want to be there for him and he won’t let me.”

“Don’t give him the choice.” Richard fell silent, a struggle playing out over his features. For all that he was a brilliant poker player, the urge to say something etched into his face. But the firm line of his mouth compressing told her he wouldn’t. “I can’t tell you what you want to know. Being a prince isn’t easy—not for any of the brothers. You’re basing a lot of what you know about the last few years on what the news reports, aren’t you?”

He turned the question back on her and Anna nodded slowly. “I watched every special, reviewed the Google alerts when his name was mentioned—” Embarrassment heated her face. “I just wanted to know he was okay.”

“Nothing wrong with that—but ask yourself this. Have you watched the news reports over the last couple of weeks since the two of you saw each other again?”

The ridiculous speculation, the aborted wedding announcement from Nikole and the interviews with classmates she didn’t even recall—the kernels of the truth were in the story, but they made up such a small part of it. The news stories she followed rarely reflected the information she read in the foundation guidebook or even bore a passing resemblance to the man she knew in college—the man she knew now.

“There you go.” Richard closed his eyes. “Now you’re thinking.”

“You’re a good friend, Rick.”

“I’m the best.” His lips curved into a fleeting half smile before his expression sobered. “Don’t hurt him again, Anna. I like you—but I don’t think I can forgive you twice.”

Rising, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Feel better.”

He patted her hand, and though she appreciated the gesture it remained an awkward moment. Richard was Charlie’s guy—his best friend, his confidant, the man he trusted. They shared history, good times and bad. He’d been there when Anna hadn’t.

“Have fun at the party.” He gave her a small smile of encouragement.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be a blast.” She left him to sleep and walked out to find Kyle and the others waiting for her. Still chewing over what she knew and what she didn’t, who he was and whom the world saw.

She waited until they were in the car and leaned forward. “Kyle?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for Ch—the prince?”

“About five years, ma’am. Usually his American stops, but occasionally in Europe.”

“Can I ask you a question?” She nibbled the inside of her lip.

“Of course. I can’t promise to answer it, though. Discretion is inherent to our position.” He gave her an easy smile, but she understood. They’d explained this to her from the beginning—they would never discuss what she did or said in their presence, she had to trust them implicitly for the security team to be able to protect her.

She thought about the question long and hard. “Has the prince ever provided a private security detail for the women he’s dated?”

They were passing through downtown on the way back to the tower before Kyle answered. “When they travel with him, they are usually under his security detail. But a private detail for them directly? No, ma’am. Not that I’m aware of.”

Anna leaned back. Charlie was Prince Armand. Prince Armand was Charlie. He didn’t share that part of himself with the rest of the world—he’d reserved Charlie for her. He’d assigned a protection detail to her.

He was offering her a million reasons to leave.
Is he afraid of me—or for me?

But she only needed one reason—him—to stay.

“Are you still planning to arrive at the event center at five p.m., Miss Novak?”

“Yes, I am. As long as security is comfortable with that.” She needed a perfect time to prove to him that she loved him—all of him. Charlie and Armand both. She wanted this relationship, she loved him, she craved him and she needed to show him. Tonight was the first step, with all the pressure and hell he was under, she wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of their past.

She caught sight of the tower in the distance and for the first time, she didn’t see a glass prison or lofty palace in the sky. She saw home. Excitement and anticipation fluttered in her belly. It wouldn’t be easy—her prince was a stubborn, stubborn man.

But I’m no pushover...
He can try to shut me out
,
but time crumbles all walls...

* * *

The FBI arrived at the tower on Armand’s way out. Security called down to the car and they drove back to the elevator to meet the pair of agents. Thomason, the senior agent Armand spoke to the day of Richard’s accident, and his partner, Filch, looked pleased—well, as pleased as two federal agents might.

“Your Highness, thank you for meeting us, we’ll try not to keep you.” Thomason led the discussion and held out his phone with a photograph on it. The man resembled Yuri Markov, save for the conspicuous lack of tattoos.

“This is Dmitri Markov, Yuri’s younger brother. Not sure how he slipped our net, but we picked him up at LAX yesterday afternoon on an outbound flight for Belaria. His rental car was in long-term parking and contained long-range photographic equipment.”

Armand studied the man’s expression. There was a vacant emptiness in Markov’s eyes. He rarely saw up close those who would hurt him and his family. Violence surged through him. “Has he confessed?”