The suggestion to rein in his reactions came after Sebastian damn near beat another boy bloody at boarding school. His title, his family’s wealth, and his father’s diplomatic skills smoothed the whole incident over. Months of lessons followed the episode, most of which took him most of his life to perfect, but he knew the part he played and he played it well.
The last several days—hell, the last several months—all weighed on him, beginning with the blade in the dark arranged by a supposed family friend and culminating in the phone call from the love of his life ending their relationship. He’d twisted himself into knots to keep his cool, to stay in control, and then she hit him with the most ridiculous charge.
“Your mistress. I’m not an idiot, Bastian. Let’s not pretend, not at this juncture.” She let out an exasperated huff. Colorbloomed in her cheeks and temper fired the dark chocolate of her eyes, blasting him. “I know my place. You’ve made it perfectly clear. And I don’t even care—no, scratch that, Icare.Maybe I care too much, a reality made clear when I saw the story about your engagement. I know, you said it wasn’t true and, okay, maybe it wasn’t…this time?—”
Red hazed over his vision, and a dull roar filled his ears. She bandied around wordslike, maybe,and the idea it wasn’t truethis time.
“I know we’ve agreed to give this time and decided we shouldn’t talk of these things, but I’m an adult. I agreed to this relationship. I—” She fumbled and raked her hands through her hair. “Iwantto be what you need, but I don’t know if I can anymore.” The last came out on a note so forlorn, it cut him deeper than all the rest. His soul began to bleed.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he fought the urge to yell. The rapid escalation of his temper eroded his control. Jaw clenched, he fought the immediate, visceral yell backing up in his lungs.Focus on her words. To create distance from the pain they evoked took every ounce of his will. He needed to address her concerns because, clearly, the chasm between them was littered with more than jagged rocks of misunderstanding.
“You are not my mistress.” He had to keep his temper in check. Yelling at her would not serve him in this.Rational.
Stay rational.
The wind chose the same moment to pick up, whipping her hair up and away from her face. One aspect of Meredith which always attracted him was her absolute lack of artifice. She didn’t wear cosmetics unless she had to. She rarely wore jewelry—just a watch her father gave her at graduation and a pair of diamond studs, tiny little chips, from her grandmother gifted to her for her eighteenth birthday. These facts fascinated him along with every gram of knowledge he’d devoured about her in all theiryears together.Mistress…how can she possibly believe she’s my mistress?
Her nose wrinkled and her jaw tightened. He recognized the signs of her temper and he couldn’t listen to another word of her argument. Not when she insulted him and herself in the same breath.
“Sebastian—”
“Be silent.” He cut her off and, while it flew in the face of everything he believed and he’d never allow another to speak to her in the same tone, he needed to hold onto the rapidly fraying ends of his temper before he said something they would both regret. Stalking forward, he invaded her space and stared down at her. “You arenotmy mistress. Not now. Not ever. I do not pretend when I am with you…”
Her mouth opened then snapped shut again with a click of her teeth.
Satisfied when she elected to not interrupt him, he fisted his hands in his pockets. He wanted to drag her close and kiss her until he blasted the ludicrous idea out of her head, but it wouldn’t address the problem. If the solution were so easy, they’d have already dealt with it. “I haveneverpretended when I am with you.” With Meredith, he got to be the man, not the prince, and how the hell could she not know how precious she was to him? “And your place?” His breath hitched. “I don’t even know what the hell that means. The only place I’ve ever wanted you is with me.” Even then, he’d denied himself.
Mutiny shimmered in her eyes, but she only lifted her eyebrows in silent inquiry.
“Yes, please—answer.” Frustration corded his muscles. He clenched his fists until two of his knuckles popped.
“One, don’t ever tell me tobe silentagain.” She didn’t bother to disguise her quiet fury and, damn she was beautiful when riled. “Two, you never have to pretend with me? Goodto know. I’ve only ever seen you behind closed doors where no one else can see you. Since I never get to be on your arm in a crowd, I wouldn’t know how you behave socially, now would I? And, yes, I know you want me with you, but onlywhenyou want me,whereyou want me, andhowyou want. You make all the decisions. You—” Her voice cracked, pitching high for a moment. “Youdecide. You get hurt and I hear nothing for days, only a cryptic message passed from yourbodyguardto Terry saying you were alive. I got one five-minute phone call and then nothing. I’m not an idiot,” she repeated, as though she needed to illustrate the point. “For five years, Sebastian, fiveyears,I’ve been your dirty little secret. Maybe that’s enough for some women. Hell, maybe it was enough for me, but I want more than private assignations and stolen days.”
Her words arrested him and she paused, releasing a shaky little laugh dipped in tears. “I want more.” Spreading her arms, she lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I love you, but I can’t do this anymore?—”
She offered him heaven and hell rolled together. Forcing his fists to release, he dragged his hands from his pockets and caught her arms. “Meredith, you’re not my mistress. I have never thought of you in that manner.”
“You don’t have to think of someone like that to treat them that way.” She flattened her hands against his chest, but didn’t attempt to push him away. “You don’t have to think of them at all. I get it. I’m neither glamorous nor pedigreed, but, Bastian, I’m so tired of spending every single holiday alone because you have to make an appearance. I’m tired of not being able to tell my family about you, or my friends. Or having to endure one more set up because I’m always partnered with the single guy who spends an evening trying to impress me. I can’t tell them I’m not interested or to leave me alone because I’m involved.Why? Because then people will ask questions and I can’t answer them.”
“Why the hell not?” The last tenuous grasp he held on his temper frayed and snapped. Just how many times was she partnered with other men? And why was this the first time he was hearing of it? “Why not tell them you’re involved with someone?”
“Because then they’ll ask me who, and what can I say?” she fired back.
“I don’t know, Meredith, what do you want to say?” He zeroed in on her expression, the high color in her cheeks, the way her teeth kept gnashing at her lower lip. Twice in the length of their relationship he’d seen her truly angry and never before at him. However, he’d done nothing to deserve her level of ire.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, my boyfriend is Sebastian Dagmar. You know, the prince? The one dating a new model every week? It’s all a front, he’s really with me. You see, he made it very clear from the get-go we should be circumspect. He said we have to keep it quiet or risk having everything about our lives splashed all over the tabloids.”
“I never asked you to keep me a secret from your family.” He wanted to shake her and the moment the urge gripped him, he released her to back away a pace. A movement caught his eye. O’Connor left his position on the garden’s edge and headed in their direction.
As if noticing him was all it took, Vidal appeared in the periphery to intercept the other man.
“Really? And you didn’t keep me a secret from yours?” Meredith’s accusation jerked his attention back to her. Vidal would deal with O’Connor, but, if the man persisted, then Sebastian would give into his urge to hit something—him.
“I didn’t tell Armand about you, nor George. One had the power to forbid me from seeing you, the other is an idiotat times, not to mention too young to understand the risk.” He blew out a breath and walked three steps toward the bougainvillea they’d imported. “I told you what would happen if we went public,” he said quietly. “Because I wanted you to understand how your life might change, and I wouldn’t do anything without your consent. I wouldn’t take the choice from you.”
“I never had a choice?—”
“Yes,” he grated out the words. “You did. You have always had a choice, but my life isn’t simple or uncomplicated. The threats we face are real, the invasion of privacy is real, and the need to protect what is ours—mine—is very real.” How could she think she was his mistress? So far, she’d thrown his appearances into his face twice. Cold dread pitted in his stomach. “Meredith?”
