Free Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4) by Heather Long Page B

for a weak smile. “I’m tired. I’m sorry, I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just, after this last year, what you and I have? It’s not working anymore. You were stabbed, which changed everything…”
    Why couldn’t she explain it right?
    “I’m sorry my injury inconvenienced you.” His stiff tone carried a note of warning.
    Stumbling over her own guilt, she stared at him. “Oh, don’t say it like that. I was terrified for you, and it was weeks before I heard anything. Nothing in the press, no phone calls. Not even a cryptic note with a puzzle.”
    “Security was impossible for a time. My brother monitored every incoming and outgoing communication.” The corners of his eyes tightened and his mouth compressed into a thin line. “I will make arrangements to ensure you are never left to wonder again. I told you when I called you—as soon as I was able—why I hadn’t been in touch. Security was very much an issue.”
    “That part, I got. Terry practically moved in with me for those few weeks—” Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, because Bastian’s gaze slicked over like ice.
    “He did what?”
    A pulse-pounding headache began behind her eyes. “He told me there were issues, so for the time-being, he wanted to keep a closer tab on me. There was no sense in him staying in his car when I have three bedrooms.” She so did not want to talk about Terry at the moment. “And, yes, you did tell me there were security issues, but those issues certainly didn’t stop you from partying on the yacht during the same timeframe. I saw the special. During at least one of the weeks you were ‘locked’ down, you were entertaining any number of beautiful women.”
    “Appearances needed to be kept, and I was barely there. I spent most of the visit below decks recuperating while they occupied themselves. I should not need to defend the choices security makes. It was a very crucial time.”
    “Of course you don’t, and why should you explain it to me? You’ve told me you were too locked down to make a call, but obviously having a number of nubile bodies dancing around was a precaution… Yet another reason why we don’t work.” As much as the loss wounded her, it did manage to dry her tears. She tried to back away, but Sebastian’s arms came around her and dragged her against him.
    Putting up her hands, she braced herself and only the sure knowledge of how recently a knife had been driven through his chest kept her from shoving him away. Was he truly healed? The very last time she’d seen him, the scar remained violent, and angry.
    He’d waved off her concern then, assuring her his physicians told him everything was fine. Caged against him, she hated her reaction—which included the desperate desire to purr, rub her face to his shirt, and soak up his scent. “Sebastian, please…”
    “No, this time you will listen. All of that… nonsense about the parties and the women? Those were appearances and have nothing to do with us. You and I are why we work. Yes, it has been a trial of a year, but we’re together and we’re here…”
    Gaping, she stared up at him. “It isn’t nonsense, Sebastian. We don’t work.”
    “You keep saying we don’t, but I don’t believe it and neither do you.” Then his mouth slammed down against hers, claiming and stealing every ounce of her breath. She fisted her hands and then she was lost to the lush, wet heat of his mouth as he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. The request layered into the demand undid her. She threaded her arms around his neck and tumbled over the precipice.
    Fire blasted through her, shattering every reservation, and she wanted more. God, she needed more. She’d missed him so damn much. As if he sensed her need, he gentled the kiss and his searing claim branded her. When he lifted his head and stared down at her, she swallowed, touching tentative fingers to the shadow of stubble on his jaw.
    The mask he’d worn since she arrived