Aheadache pulsed behind Sebastian’s right eye and fatigue weighed him down like the chains of Marley’s ghost, but the Canadian ambassador seemed far from done with his long-winded explanation of how negotiations would proceed. Jacobs, it seemed, was a thorough man. For a split-second, Sebastian’s gaze collided with the Kachusov’s who served as diplomatic secretary for the Belarian government and host to their back-room talks.

The faint smile accompanied by a roll of eyes united them on this issue. They both wanted the ambassador to be quiet. An illuminating moment considering the window dressing set around the opportunity for a member of the Andraste family to negotiate directly with the Kachusovs. A whisper of fabric behind him and motion warned Sebastian of Vidal’s approach. Each representative was allowed one bodyguard or personal aid.

“Please forgive the intrusion, Your Highness, but there’s been a development.” The man’s low-voiced warning was interrupted when the doors to the darkened conference room opened and Sebastian’s heart hurtled to his feet.

Meredith stepped inside with Gencome a single pace behind her. Every man at the table rose. If Vidal hadn’t tapped his arm, Sebastian would have circled the table to rush Meredith right the hell back out of the room.

The Canadian ambassador turned with a wide smile. “Oh, excellent. I was worried I would have to further bore my audience. Forgive me, gentleman,” the ambassador continued. “Please allow me to introduce Doctor Meredith Blake. She’s a professor of mathematical theory and I think you will find her insights are invaluable to our negotiations, particularly with regard to the variables we’re discussing. Also, I hear congratulations are in order. Since we’re all discreet here, I would like to welcome the next member of the Andraste family to the table.”

If his heart had been attached to a yo-yo string, it couldn’t have rebounded from the ground to chest and back again with greater alacrity. Meredith met his gaze with a smile, but instead of walking straight to him, she paused to shake hands with each of the attendees and accept their congratulations. Others spoke to him, and he must have nodded and responded correctly, but he never took his attention away Meredith, not when she stopped right in front of the Kachusov attaché.

“I was not aware the grand duke announced an engagement to such a lovely American.” The man’s hand lingered on Meredith’s, but she shrugged.

“We are waiting to the end of the semester. I’ve been exceptionally busy teaching and am mentoring several doctoral candidates. Couple my academic responsibilities with His Highness’ public schedule, and we thought it best to wait. Once his calendar is free, he can take a step back. It’s lovely to meet you.” And then she was on the move again.

What the hell is she up to?

It was an agonizing three minutes before she’d reached his side. When she tilted her chin up and gave him an expectant look, he obliged her with a kiss to her cheek. Violently aware of their audience, he paused to murmur against her ear. “What are you doing?”

“Making a choice,” she replied and slipped out of her jacket. Sebastian helped her and pulled out her chair. Once she was seated, everyone resumed their places and Gencome took a stance directly behind her.

“What choice?” He clasped his hands together and directed the low-whisper to her.

Instead of answering, Meredith glanced at their audience. “Now, gentlemen, please forgive His Highness. I’ve caught him rather off guard. Surprising him is half the fun, but onto more serious matters…after conversations with Mr. Jacob and Mr. Hannah,” she gestured to the Canadian and Australian ambassadors, “as well as my own research, I realized this is more of a trade negotiation. You’re all looking to make the most equitable arrangements possible which means the biggest question on the table is how to get what each of you wants without giving up things you don’t want to lose.”

Her gaze fixed on the Kachusov attaché, and he leaned back in his chair. “Indeed, Doctor Blake. That is exactly what we all want, though I doubt any of us would put it so boldly.”

“Because you’re diplomats and business people. I’m a teacher. I know my students can’t answer a question if they don’t know what the actual question is.”

“Well said.” Hopkins, the British Ambassador smiled. “With Dr. Blake’s wisdom in mind, gentleman, let’s take the time to address what we want and then see who has the power to make it happen.”

Pockets of conversation erupted around the room and Meredith glanced at him finally, her nut-brown eyes filled with utter sobriety. “Talk to him,” she said quietly. He didn’t have to ask who she meant. Like him, the attaché was there for just such an opportunity and all the smoke and mirrors in the room were designed to allow him to liaison directly with the family who wanted his dead.

Sebastian wasn’t sure whether to be furious with her or grateful. The last place in the world she should be was exactly where he’d always wanted her—at his side. “Meredith…” Words failed him.

“I know, but the variable of time is not going to wait for us. Tick tock, make peace, Your Highness.”

Catching her hand, he lifted it and kissed her knuckles once before he turned to face Kachusov. By silent agreement, they both rose and moved away from the others. Up close and personal, Mikael Kachusov was an inch shorter than him and he possessed thinning hair on his pate, but he wasn’t more than a decade older.

“So, we shall put our cards on the table. That was quite the gamble, bringing the professor.” Kachusov half-smirked. “Interesting ploy with the woman.”

“Have a little respect for her.” Sebastian folded his arms. “She’s got more sense than the two of us put together. But she’s right, we do need our cards on the table. No more half-truths, innuendo or polite, political discussions.”

“Very well.” Mikael nodded once. “You and your family should cease any and all efforts within Belaria and go away. We do not want you here.”

“Your party doesn’t want us here. The royalists do. But you’ve never bothered to find out what the Andrastes want.” He’d been trained for as long as he could remember to avoid direct statements. To couch terms in the expedient, if polite, terms and to avoid committing to any one true course. Suggestion, his father often said, allowed listeners to draw their own conclusions, favorable or not.

The other man studied him with a frown. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a half-crushed pack of cigarettes. “Do you care if I smoke?”

“Not at all. One good thing about closed door sessions is we can smoke, drink or dance around naked.” The last earned a half-smile and Sebastian waited a beat while the other man lit his cigarette. Vidal was nearby, as was Kachusov’s man, but both guards kept a discreet distance.

“An odd turn of phrase for a prince,” Mikael said on the exhale.

Sebastian shrugged. “I’m an odd kind of prince.”

“Are you?” The tip of the man’s cigarette flared. “You all seem rather the same to me. A mere accident of birth places you ahead of others.”

“The only thing my birth granted me was a life surrounded by bodyguards and a target on my back from families like yours who assume our genetics predispose us to ruling.” There was something freeing about addressing this entire topic in blunt form.

“Then perhaps a different life would be more suitable—and safer—for you and your brothers. One well beyond the limelight.” Mikael straightened.

Negotiation had been Armand’s idea, as he wanted a peaceful settlement. Sebastian, however, was done with being threatened, especially with Meredith sitting less than a half-dozen steps away. “And less thuggish tactics might benefit your family because you realize there are only really two ways to respond to the way you’re playing the game.”

He had the man’s full attention. “That sounds very much like an implied threat.”

“Well, then let me restate myself so I’m explicitly clear.” Sebastian hardened his tone and his heart. “Mikael, you’re a minor functionary in your family. You have no military record and no real pull with your grand-uncle, the colonel. However, what you do have is a family of your own—a wife and children. Your uncle keeps coming after my family because he’s worried we’re a threat to your political control. The consistent and regular attempts on my family’s lives stops or our lack of interest in the throne is going to evaporate.”

He paused for a moment to let the man absorb the information. “And I’m going to walk out those doors and announce the return of the Grand Dukes of Andraste to Belaria. We just donated seven million dollars to the health care fund, and another ten million to house orphans and single mothers, a really rampant problem in the declining economy of your nation. Who do you think the people will want? A dictator or a King?”

“You’re bluffing.”

Any other time, Mikael might have been right. “Why should we bluff? You’re going to try to assassinate us no matter what we do, so why shouldn’t we satisfy the people? We’ll leave it to the people of Belaria to vote. How do you think they’d like it if your family ended up on the wrong side of this issue? It’s not like radicals would take offense to your trying to kill us.” Sebastian let his smile chill because while he’d never asked for this life, he was through running. “Or try to even the score?”

Mikael put out the cigarette. “It would broker civil war in my country. My country.”

“Call it mutually assured destruction. You keep bringing this war to my family, we’ll bring it to yours.” Sebastian glanced over at Meredith where she spoke with an assistant to the British ambassador. “Play the numbers, Mikael. You have lot more to lose and we’ve been surviving your attempts for a lot longer.”

Pivoting, Sebastian let him chew on the threat and returned to the table. Meredith gave him a small smile and reached for his hand. Her fingers were like ice, but he took it gratefully. It took hours, but the conversations begun in earnest with Meredith’s arrival finally began to wind down. Seeing his opportunity to withdraw, he leaned over to murmur, “When we’re done here⁠—”

She squeezed his hand. “I have a flight to catch.” Her reply caught him by surprise. “You have three more days of events, and I have an appointment I need to keep.”

He frowned. “What appointment?”

“Your mother invited me for tea.” Meredith smiled. “Besides, you have work to do.”

Utterly dissatisfied with her response, he made their excuses and escorted her to the door. Once in the hallway, his security team—and apparently hers, since the number present seemed to have doubled in size—fell in around them. He found a quiet corner and rounded on her. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you. I made my choice.” Despite her pallor, she wore a smile. “You told me I had the power to decide, so I did. I spoke to your brother. I spoke to your mother, and I spoke to Kate. You needed an opportunity. I wanted to help make it happen. I know what I want and where I want to be. I also know I’m done letting you dictate all the terms.” She glanced at her watch. “Now, forgive me, but I do have to go.” She kissed him and he dragged her back when she would have walked away.

“You have to leave right now?”

“Actually,” Kate interrupted. “She needed to leave fifteen minutes ago. We have a secure window and we’re taking it.”

Without another word, Meredith gave him another kiss and then she was off with a remarkably tight security formation guarding her. Sebastian stared after her before looking at Vidal. “You knew.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “But you told me you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Three days ago, on the yacht.” Sebastian glared.

“You didn’t change your orders.” Vidal grinned. “And she’s good for you. Shall we go?”

It was a plot—his whole family and his security were conspiring with Meredith. It infuriated him and, at the same time, filled him a private kind of joy. She’d come for him. Damn right, she was good for him.

By the end of the second night of official duties, Sebastian was ready to do the assassin’s jobs for them. He’d shaken more hands, made small talk in more languages, and drank nearly a cask’s worth of wine in small digestible sips along with a permanent headache, and aching hunger to speak to Meredith. Yet, each time he’d called her, she’d taken over the conversation, told him she loved him and gotten off the phone before he managed three sentences.

“Thirty minutes,” Vidal reported quietly. “The French ambassador is scheduled to meet with his mistress, and we’ll leave with him.”

“Excellent.” He glanced at the wine glass and avoided the impropriety of checking his watch.

“We have company.” Vidal adjusted his stance and Sebastian glanced at the etched mirror. Mikael Kachusov approached and he wasn’t alone. The shift rippling through the room was subtle, but unmistakable. The arrival of the colonel, the most senior member of the Kachusov family and the head of their political party—and current senior minister to Belaria—would make such a ripple.

Setting the wine glass down, Sebastian observed their progress from across the room. They were heading straight for him, a fact his security paid close attention to as three members of his detail joined Vidal. The diamond formation closed around Sebastian and, one-by-one, the conversations around the room dragged to a halt.

Catching the Swiss ambassador’s eye, Sebastian shook his head once and the man inclined his head. The ambassadorial junket provided the necessary cover and security arrangements to bring Sebastian into the country, but the whole point was to meet with the Kachusov family. To go from attaché to colonel demonstrated a remarkable success.

“Breathe, Vidal,” Sebastian advised. “This is what we wanted.”

His bodyguard said nothing and remained impassive when Colonel Kachusov stopped in front of him. Cool defiance hardened Kachusov’s eyes as they met Sebastian’s gaze. “Your Highness.”

The two word greeting punctured one layer of tension fisting the room. “Colonel.”

“We would speak with you in private. I would speak with you in private and with His Highness, Grand Duke Armand.” What the request lacked in diplomacy, it made up for in dramatic flair.

“If you would permit us a moment to make arrangements for a private room?” Sebastian didn’t look away, but the hush the colonel’s arrival caused broke. Vidal didn’t move from Sebastian’s side and it took only a few minutes until a room was arranged.

An aide handed Sebastian a phone. He paced away from the colonel and waited a beat. Armand answered on the second ring. “He’s there?” His brother’s automatic awareness of the situation would have surprised him if Sebastian didn’t know his security reported to him hourly.

“Yes, and he’s ready to talk.”

“Is there any possibility this is a trap?” Cool appraisal tempered the emotion in Armand’s voice.

“There’s always a possibility, however, we’re in the Swiss Embassy.” Which reduced the chances to a more favorable level.

“Safety first, brother.” Armand exhaled a breath. “I wasn’t fond of this plan to begin with.”

“We dislike the alternative more.” When Armand didn’t disagree, Sebastian glanced toward the colonel and gestured to the room. At the door, they surrendered their cell phones. Sebastian would call Armand back on the landline.

It was a concession to allow the colonel to enter first—and a show of respect. It mirrored the respect Colonel Kachusov showed when he addressed Sebastian with the honorary ‘Your Highness.’ Baby steps, perhaps, but in the course of their long-standing feud, it was important.

Aware of the attention on them, Sebastian gave Kachusov the preference of seat choice. The decision acknowledged the colonel’s position in his own country, and emphasized Sebastian’s graciousness. It also allowed Sebastian to keep his back to the wall. Vidal’s tension wouldn’t be noticeable to their guests, but Sebastian didn’t have to look at his bodyguard to feel the waves of rolling off him.

But it’s dangerous… Meredith’s voice whispered through his soul and he couldn’t find fault with her assessment, however, he had every reason to live. The colonel finally sat, electing a chair near the center and closer to the door. Circling around, Sebastian took the seat opposite him.

They’d both ignored the head of the table and the implication of power inherent to the seat. Side twinging with phantom pain where he’d been stabbed, Sebastian reached forward and punched in the number on conference room phone, speaker on. “Your Highness,” he addressed his brother and kept it formal when he answered. “Colonel Kachusov would like a word with us directly.”

“Thank you, Sebastian.” Neutrality echoed in the words. “Colonel.”

Ice would have been warmer than the colonel’s expression. “Your Highness, or should I say Imperial Majesty?”

“Your Highness is sufficient for now.” Armand’s smooth reply did nothing to relieve the strained atmosphere.

“Then let us speak bluntly, Your Highness. When I was in Los Angeles, you assured me your interest in returning to Belaria to sit on a throne did not exist.” Tiny white lines tightened around the colonel’s mouth and his brow seemed permanently furrowed.

“That was before the airstrike and the latest chatter which met Grand Duchess Alyxandretta’s announcement.” His brother’s response actually surprised Sebastian. Armand, it seemed, was also done playing. “For months, all we have heard from Belaria is a stream of invectives against our family and the purchasing of bounties on our heads.”

“You cannot prove the last event came from anyone under my command.” Kachusov ‘s rage was a palpable force in the room. Mikael shifted uncomfortably at the latent hostility in the colonel’s voice. “And Belaria does not need pampered royalty to act as our figureheads. We’ve done fine without your family for decades.”

“Yet, you don’t deny your complicity. If you are not ready to discuss this matter, Colonel, we can certainly bring it up during my visit next summer.” The verbal gauntlet landed in the room like a live grenade with the pin pulled.

The colonel’s hand clenched into a fist and the temperature in the room shifted. Vidal was no longer standing by the wall. He’d moved like a ghost to shadow Sebastian.

“Brave words from a man several thousand miles away. Especially since your brother sits here at my mercy.”

In for a keg of dynamite, Sebastian tossed the final match. “You don’t have mercy in you, Colonel. If you did, you wouldn’t have begun your negotiations with the tip of the sword at our throats. As I pointed out to your cousin,” Sebastian didn’t have to look at Mikael to know he’d blanched at the colonel’s reaction. Nor did he dare take his attention off the greatest threat in the room. “You started this private war. We’re giving you this single opportunity to end it peaceably.”

“Or what?” The colonel slammed to his feet and his fist hit the table. Redness infused his face and his jaw tightened.

Vidal set a digital tablet on the table and slid it across. “Or this.”

Silence stretched across the room as the colonel paged through the images. Sebastian had seen them earlier and approved the tactic. They’d gathered photos of every single member of the Kachusov family—at their homes, on the job, and even shots of the newest member, an infant who hadn’t yet left the hospital. It made Sebastian sick to his stomach to consider what they were implying, but men like Colonel Kachusov understood no language outside of brutality.

“You wouldn’t dare.” But, for the first time, Kachusov didn’t sound certain.

“Try us,” Armand replied into the deadly quiet. “I dare you.”

Leaning back and manufacturing a calm he certainly didn’t feel, Sebastian dangled the carrot. “Or, I can walk out there and make a statement of support for a democratic Belaria. I can emphasize how invested the Andraste family—and, by extension, the Dagmar Foundation—is to supporting the dream, no royal strings attached.”

Knuckles down against the table, the colonel didn’t answer immediately. “I need time to consider this.”

“Tick tock, Colonel. The offer expires when you walk out the door.” Sebastian could practically hear the grim smile in his brother’s voice. Any other alternative could give the colonel time to take another shot at them.

Apparently, it was enough to encourage the colonel to retake his chair. “What measure of assurance do we have to ensure you won’t change your minds?”

“The exact same amount we have that you won’t come at us again.” Sebastian shrugged.

“You’re suggesting we simply trust one another?” The colonel’s tone said he didn’t like it.

Neither did Sebastian. “Exactly.”

The colonel’s gaze went back to the tablet. Sebastian’s gut twisted. The other man blinked first, but if he tested them, it would be up to them to make it happen. “I do not believe you would target children.”

Sebastian didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. Silence, in this instance, was a far better tactic. He let all kindness bleed out of him. It dripped the way his blood had when their blade dug into his flesh, nicked his ribs and sliced into his lung. He’d tasted the bubble of death as it choked him and the icy shroud threatened to take him away from everyone and everything he loved. Their actions had compounded his injury to Meredith.

The idea that this man—this one man—could come at them again, could come at her? No. Sebastian would kill him first. The nightmare needed to end. Kachusov met his gaze. Whatever he saw in Sebastian’s face must have been enough to sway him. “We will accept your terms, but know, if you cross us…only your blood will satisfy the injury.”

“Let us be explicit, as well. My family will continue as it always has. We will devote our time and our resources to helping others and leave your politics to your political parties. We will not endorse you nor will we condemn you. However, if even one drop of Andraste blood is spilled—one—then we’re coming for you and God help your family because we will not stop until your whole line is exterminated.” It wasn’t an empty threat. In this, Armand and Sebastian were utterly united. They were done running.

“Mikael.” The colonel looked at the attaché. “Summon the press. We will appear together.” Uncurling his fist, he extended his hand to Sebastian. “Peace.”

It was an armistice at best, with only the promise of mutually assured destruction to hold them to their honor, but it would do. Sebastian rose and took the colonel’s hand. “Peace.”

The press conference wasn’t without its hitches and the Belarian press—or what passed for their press—displayed disappointment in Sebastian’s statement that the Andraste family planned to invest financially in Belaria’s future, but not personally. The colonel’s smug acceptance and the arm he placed around Sebastian’s shoulders aggravated Sebastian enough to enjoy puncturing the man’s glee by announcing the immediate appointment of two prominent royalists to oversee the distribution of Andraste money in conjunction with executives from the European division of the family’s conglomerate.

Still, another twenty-four hours slipped away before he could board a jet with the French ambassador for Charles deGaulle airport. The Andraste jet would be waiting for him at a private landing strip outside of Paris. Nearly thirty-six hours without sleep or a phone call lasting more than ninety seconds with Meredith left him in a sour mood.

As soon as he was on board the jet, he stripped off his tie and threw his jacket onto a chair. Unbuttoning his shirtsleeves, he began rolling them up and looked at the steward. “When we’re in the air, I want Meredith on the phone.” It was long past time they settled the issue of what the hell she’d been doing.

But it was Vidal, not the steward, who answered. “That won’t be possible.”

“Why the hell not?” He glared. Vidal played a vital role in pulling off the last several days. Sebastian turned over the coordination and implementation of his security to Vidal. In return, he handled every aspect of the protection detail and it went swimmingly, save for Meredith’s surprising appearance and equally abrupt exit.

“We have several hours on the flight and you’re exhausted. Since Dr. Blake is currently teaching.” Vidal checked his watch. “She will be in her lecture for at least another hour and with her doctoral candidates for the remainder of her day. She wouldn’t take your call. Besides, you should get some sleep.”

Fatigued or not, Sebastian recognized when he was being handled and saw through Vidal’s careful phrasing. “What do you mean, since she wouldn’t take my calls anyway?”

Vidal pulled out his own phone and studied the screen. “We will have clearance to take off within thirty minutes, if you wanted to take a shower before you get some sleep.”

He wasn’t going anywhere. “Vidal, answer my damned question.”

After returning the phone to inner pocket of his jacket, Vidal shook his head. “I don’t think I will. You have twenty-nine minutes.”

“What do you mean, you don’t think you will?” Who the hell was in charge here? The grit stung his eyes and he ached from head to toe, but he hadn’t just put himself through the grueling exercise of the last several days to not reach out to Meredith when it was over.

“Prepare a meal for His Highness.” Vidal addressed the steward. “And his pajamas. After we’re inflight, he’ll retire for the duration. Twenty-seven minutes, sir.”

“Get me a cup of coffee and answer my question, Vidal, before I kick you off my plane.” Sebastian all but growled and the steward froze, his gaze going from Sebastian to Vidal and back again.

“No coffee. Prepare his meal. Go.”

The steward accepted Vidal’s word and abandoned him to face to the prince. Folding his arms, Sebastian glared at the man.

“Your Highness, you can try to throw me off the plane, but it would be an embarrassing exercise for both of us. You’re exhausted and the last time you spoke to Dr. Blake in this mood, she hung up on you. Save us both the aggravation and get some sleep. We can discuss everything else afterward.”

“Since when do you speak to me like this?” It went beyond unusual.

“I’ve rarely needed to speak to you this way.” Vidal gave him a curt nod. “You have twenty-five minutes.” When Sebastian didn’t move, Vidal closed the distance between them. “Sebastian, get your ass in the shower. Clear your head. Get some sleep. If you talk to Dr. Blake while in this frame of mind, it will end badly for both of you. Particularly since you haven’t taken the time to process everything you’ve done. You’ve handled the last few days with remarkable aplomb, exceptional fortitude and grace even your brother would envy. That said, I will put you down myself before I let you sabotage the progress you’ve made with Dr. Blake.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Sebastian closed his eyes. He was exhausted, all the way to his bones. Vidal was right. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Getting to Meredith was an imperative, but if Vidal knew where she was and what she was doing, it meant he’d kept touch with her security. She was safe. He could afford to cooperate. “Fine. I will shower.”

“Excellent decision, sir.” To his credit, Vidal didn’t smile.

At the door to the private bedroom and shower, Sebastian glanced back. “Thank you for your help the last few days. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes, sir. I am aware, but you are more than welcome.”

Sebastian deserved the rap on his knuckles, but… “Vidal?”

“Sir?”

“Talk to me in that manner again, and I’ll loan you to George.”

A quick grin creased the man’s face. “Twenty-two minutes, sir.”

Sebastian didn’t even make it to the meal. After showering and changing, he’d buckled into a seat in the private room. As soon as they were airborne, he’d crawled into the bed and collapsed. Six hours into the flight, Vidal woke him with coffee, food and a report.

“What’s this?” His eyes ached, and the words seemed to blur on the page.

“It’s a detailed analysis of Dr. Blake’s current security measures and recommendations for the future. Since her appearance at the conference, we’ve doubled the number of men assigned to her detail. She’s agreed to leave the brownstone in favor of the Ryan Hotel, so we’ve secured one whole floor. Should she choose to stay on past this semester, we will make other arrangements. We’ve selected four properties which will meet the security needs of Dr. Blake living individually, but only two will suffice if you elect to stay with her.” Vidal took a sip from his coffee. “Further, we’ve vetted three undercover operatives to rotate through her classes and give us eyes on the campus. It isn’t sufficient for long term surveillance.”

“What do you mean if?” The file went beyond security measures, since it also included a background check. “And when did you run a background check on her?”

“Five years ago, during the conference. Initially, it was rather superficial, but you were only having an affair at that juncture. After you hired Mr. O’Connor, I updated it. I’ve maintained regular checks since then.” Vidal sat his mug down.

“I didn’t authorize a background check.” A fresh wave of anger flooded him. “If Armand…”

“His Highness did not receive a copy of this report until a few days ago.”

Sebastian’s blood iced and his temper spiked. “Then why did you do it?”

“Your safety is my job. Your interest in her presented a vulnerability which could have been exploited.” It was a reasonable answer.

“Five years ago, maybe. But this—?” Sebastian tapped the report. “This is up to date as of a week ago. You know what? Fine. It’s done. Don’t do it again.” Blowing out a breath, Sebastian glanced around for his phone. “You didn’t answer the if question.”

“Because it is not for me to speculate the outcome.” Evasion was not Vidal’s usual style.

“I’m too tired to play games. If you have some objection or piece of information you think I need to know, simply tell me. I’m going to have a difficult enough time with Meredith cutting short every phone call.” Weary to his bones, he just wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms and stay there for the rest of his life. Of course, it might take some convincing to let him back in, even on a part time basis. Hope existed, though. Her appearance in Belaria gave him hope.

Touching a button on the side panel, Vidal invoked the privacy light. It would alert the staff to not step into the main cabin. Clasping his hands together, the man leaned forward. “For the next five minutes, I will speak to you as myself and not your bodyguard, agreed?”

“All right.” Sebastian shifted. Vidal only stepped over the line once before —when he’d bodily carried Sebastian from the scene of his assault and told him, in no uncertain terms, he was not allowed to die.

“Very good. You, sir, are an idiot.”

“What?”

“I’m not finished.” Vidal pinned him with a look. “I’ve had a front row view to your relationship with Dr. Blake. She’s enormously good for you, but you treat her rather shabbily. You appear to be under some delusion that she shouldn’t have to choose between you and her career. Perhaps it’s too much time in the Americas or a distinct lack of time in France, but ignoring a woman’s say so in a relationship is not romantic. It is the act of a madman.”

Jaw clenched, Sebastian stared at the other man. “Are you quite finished then?”

“No. The initial decision to maintain secrecy was applaudable. She proved time and again capable of withstanding the desire to shout her relationship with you. Quite commendable on her part. Letting five years lapse in uncertain limbo? I’m rather surprised she didn’t drop you on your ass sooner.”

Sebastian’s temper ignited. “It’s my job to protect her.”

Vidal snorted. “No, sir. It’s my job to protect her and you. It’s your honor to love her. You mistake your devotion for duty and honor for love.”

The words bored through to his soul. “What kind of a man would I be if I demanded she give up her life for mine?”

“Don’t compound one mistake with another. I know you understand the value of word selection. I never said you should demand, but you could invite. You’ve made a great many decisions about your relationship without consulting her. Apparently, she’s realized this all on her own.” Vidal smiled. “Hence, she’s begun to make decisions without you.”

All the oxygen backed up into Sebastian’s lungs and the tension vanished from his jaw. “Meredith ordered the background check.”

“No, sir. She requested it.”

“Why the hell would she do such a thing?” What had they been up to while he’d negotiated his family’s safety? Why would Meredith want a background check done? Admittedly, they were standard practice in the family, particularly for new hires or… His gut clenched. “She met with my mother.”

“As well as your cousins, actually. I understand she also has a dinner scheduled with Grand Duchess Alyxandretta and her husband in a week. If you don’t introduce His Highness before then, I have it on good authority he’s likely to make an appearance at the same dinner.” Vidal’s tense expression eased with a small smile.

A grin curved the corner of Sebastian’s mouth and then his good mood faded nearly as soon as it dawned. “But she’s avoiding my phone calls…”

“Her plans do not excuse you from groveling.” Vidal rose and checked his watch. “We will be landing within the hour, Your Highness. I took the liberty of ordering a car. What is your destination?”

“Time’s up, hmm?” But he couldn’t be angry with Vidal, not when he’d given him something to think about. “What time is it in Boston?”

“Late. After nine local time.”

Sebastian wanted to rush to her, but then again… “The hotel, but don’t tell Dr. Blake I’ve arrived. Does she have classes tomorrow?”

Vidal didn’t blink. “She does.”

He had time to do it right. “You’re going to hate this idea…”