“Armand, I can’t commit to this.” He interrupted his brother mid-sentence, and Armand frowned. “I mean it. I have another crucial matter …”
“Thisis crucial. These people are persisting in their attempts against our family. They haven’t targeted Mother yet, but I wouldn’t put it past them. If Anna is right, Alyx will be announcing her pregnancy soon, and when she does…”
Sebastian’s right eye began to throb. “The speculation begins.” Alyx was a member of the family, but both her position as their cousin and her marriage to Daniel Voldakov removed her from the immediacy of inheritance. Armand’s marriage, and his close ties to Alyx, made the speculation unavoidable. “Everyone will want to know when a royal baby will be in the offing.”
“Exactly.” Armand’s stern mask relaxed and he leaned forward. “I have to protect Anna.Wehave to make this situation go away before the possibility occurs to them. The Belarian separatists think they want a royal presence, but the current government and military definitely don’t want us there. They believe it far more expedient to eliminate our family line. Sebastian, I need you to do this for us. Ineedyou to help me protect our family.”
He could hardly say no, but Meredith needed him, too. How could he merge the tasks? He couldn’t afford to ignore her repudiation. Meredith was a reasonable woman, but as long as several thousand miles separated them, he couldn’t ensure sheunderstood how much he cared for her. “I understand, brother, however, I need something as well.”
“Name it.”
It was a gamble, but perhaps after all these years, Armand would understand. “Her name is Meredith Blake…”
MEREDITH
Freezing drizzle slicked the windows with the promise of ice by the time Terry pulled up in front of her brownstone. He’d insisted on driving her home, though she was less than a ten-minute walk from the campus. The proximity to the campus was one of the reasons she’d purchased the place when she’d accepted a tenure upon completion of her doctorate. “Thank you, Terry.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d parked the vehicle and circled around to open her door before she’d gotten her seatbelt loosened. The man was almost preternaturally fast, but she’d gotten used to him over the years. Once, when she’d delayed meeting Sebastian because Terry hadn’t been able to accompany her, Sebastian suggested replacing the man. She’d refused. Strange enough to have an escort in the first place, worse if the chaperone were a stranger. Terry was more than just a guard; he’d become her friend. Sadly, she and Sebastian’s first real disagreement erupted over the issue.
Icy wind whipped around the side of the building and cut through her thoughts. She needed to stop dwelling on Sebastian and all thecould have beens. Terry tugged her backpack from her fingers. He locked the truck up and walked her up the steps,one hand on her elbow. The steps weren’t quite iced over, but if the weather forecaster was correct, dawn would be frigid.
“Do you have classes tomorrow?” Terry asked, waiting for her to unlock the front door. As soon as it opened, she crossed to the security panel and pressed in her code while Terry closed and locked the door.
“I have one lecture, but it’s in the afternoon. I’ll be grading papers all morning and I have to prepare for finals.” With Thanksgiving just around the corner, the fall semester would tumble towards finals week before most of the students hustled off for the holidays.
“Can you do the grading from here?” Terry walked down the hall to the first floor sitting room then jogged up the stairs to the kitchen and her office. She trudged up behind him. He met her on the second floor. “All clear.”
“Thank you, Terry.” She didn’t question him. The routine was too familiar. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure.” He followed her into the kitchen. “What about tomorrow? Can you do your grading from home? If the ice storm turns vicious, it would be better if you did.”
“You’re worse than my father,” she teased and went through the motions of setting up the coffee pot. She liked her brownstone and, while she didn’t really need all the space, she enjoyed the kitchen most of all. It was huge and offered her plenty of room for cooking big meals or baking—she loved baking. Though it had been a long time since she’d hosted a dinner party of any kind, since Sebastian might call at any moment. Or, worse, the ever-present possibility she’d be paired with some poor man who thought they were on a date and then she would have to let them down easy.
Stop it.The constant mental chasing of her metaphorical tail would drive her mad. Maybe she could host a little get together over the weeks of Christmas break. Several of her colleagueswouldn’t be traveling, so an evening with friends, perhaps some wine…
Stomach clenching, she pivoted on her heels. His back was to her, but maybe the answer she needed was right in front of her. “Terry? You’re not married, right?”
His shoulders stiffened at the question, and he spun slowly to give her a guarded look. “No, why?”
“Would you like to stay for dinner? We’ve shared dinner before, but usually you eating in one corner while I work in the other. How about I make dinner then we sit down and talk?” She was babbling. She hated to babble.
The corners of his mouth turned downward. “I’m not sure it’s the best idea, Meredith.” She thought he would say more, but he went silent instead.
“Maybe not, but we’re friends, right? Friends can have dinner.”Please don’t make me sit in this house by myself. I don’t want to cry myself to sleep, and I desperately need the distraction.It would sound an awful lot like begging to voice the words, so she clenched her hands, digging nails into her palms. “If you have plans, ignore me. I’ve had a bad day.”
He sighed, and shook his head slowly. “I don’t have any plans, and I would love to have dinner with you.”
“Fantastic.” Shifting her attention back to the coffee pot, she glanced at her empty counters and grimaced. Figuring out what to have for dinner might be a problem…
“Want me to call and order something?”
She glanced over her shoulder. Terry eyed the empty counters with a skeptical look. “Actually, I know I have stuff here to fix. How do you feel about Italian?” Diverting to the pantry, she pulled out spaghetti and two jars of sauce. She’d hoarded it for a cold night like this one.
“Love it. I’ll give you a hand…” He’d stripped off his suit jacket and begun rolling up his sleeves when his cell phonerang. Meredith nodded and went to get meat from the freezer. If she put it in water, it would defrost soon enough. Desperate for a distraction, she continued to pull out the pans she’d need and then went in search of the loaf of French bread she vaguely recalled buying a couple of days before.
Terry’s voice was merely a murmur in the background until she heard, “Yes, sir. I’m with her now.”
Meredith jerked around and banged her head against the door. The resounding crack actually made her see spots for a moment, and the half-formed headache of the day ballooned.
