She tried to brush his hand away, but he held firm. She wanted him to hold on, but it wouldn’t do any good, not for her injury, not for anything else, either. “I’m fine. There are other people who need your help more than me.”
He pursed his lips.
“You know I’m right. What’s gonna happen when someone catches you helping the movie star instead of someone else who’s more important, or more injured? Or if they see you here at all instead of secured with the rest of the royals? Why didn’t you leave with them, anyway?” Though she knew the answer to the last already—he was always trying to prove himself to his family, to her, to everyone and he likely thought staying here would help him achieve that—it still wouldn’t do him any good to remain.
He shouldn’t need to risk his life to prove his worth. Yet, didn’t she do the same time and time again? Risk her life for love of him and of her own family, risk everything to right the mistakes of the past, to prove she was worthy, too? But she wouldn’t be. No matter what she did, she wouldn’t be worthy of him or his love, if he even had any left for her after everything they’d been through.
Ethan huffed a breath and ignored her questions. “What the fuck are you even doing here? You weren’t on the program to go up for auction tonight.”
They’d had this fight before, and it wouldn’t be any different now. “I wasn’t supposed to attend, you’re right. But I happened to be in town and they needed someone who could blend in with the other celebrities up for auction. It’s the job.”
“Don’t I fucking know it.”
She grabbed his hand, yanked it from her face. Even in the dark and dim underbelly of the stage, she saw him. She always saw him. “There were other agents who could have helped tonight. If you think I was the first call, you’d be wrong. I heard what was happening and forced myself into position.”
“Why, when you knew what might happen?”
Because of you. Damn it, because of you! I wanted to keep you safe even though we’re over.“Does it matter? We don’t have time for this. I have a job to do, and so do you.”
He was debating. She knew his debating face: scrunched eyebrows and lips in a thin line…he was still devastatingly sexy.
The ground rumbled again.
Her heart rate picked up, the adrenaline running through her fresh and new. They’d expected three from the threat they’d received, not four. Was this an aftershock? Or the start of more?
Damn it. She had to leave, had to find who was responsible, had to help.
She started to scramble up, picking up her gun and keeping it ready at her side; he didn’t stop her but helped her up. Her head rushed just a little, but she focused soon enough and remained steady.
His lips were near her ear, pleading. “Don’t do what you’re about to do. You need medical attention. You don’t need to be out there saving everybody.”
“Even if I’m trying to save you?” she said before she could think better of it. Her head wound must be dimming her senses, which was the last thing she needed.
He inhaled sharply, and let it out slowly, the warmth of his breath on her skin a reminder of times past. Of moments when it wasn’t just his breath, but also his hands and his own skin against hers, moving, taking, demanding, worshipping, and loving her, at least with his body. Was it only her, or did he remember, too?
She swallowed. “I have to go, Your Highness.”
“Anda—”
“Everyone okay! Anyone hurt?”
They both jerked, and she hid the gun from view. They peered up through the hole and a bomb-squad-clad figure loomed above them.
Damn it! Now how was she supposed to get away?
Ethan spoke up first. “She’s fine. Just a minor head wound. Has anybody else been hurt? I’m Captain Santoro. I’m a doctor and can help those who are injured.”
The man jumped, now realizing who he was. “Apologies, Your Highness, I didn’t recognize you.”
She felt rather than saw the man’s wince. Saying you didn’t recognize a royal prince wasn’t the smoothest move but, knowing Ethan, he wouldn’t care.
“I-I mean, I didn’t expect you, Your Highness. We believed all the royals had been ushered away.”
Ethan didn’t take offense and just waved the comments away. “It’s no matter. Was that another explosion we just felt?”
“No, Your Highness. We believe it was just part of the northeast corner of the building collapsing from stress after the earlier explosions.”
The building had been designed as two theatres, one of which had removable seating and doubled as a ballroom—that was where they were. The other theatre was far from where they stood, but the ripple effect of the collapse would have been felt by them.
