Page 37 of Some Like It Scandalous
“I’m sorry, I’d have to agree. What great injustice?” Unable to ignore the upset radiating off him, she covered one of his hands.
“You and Armand. The two of you were once happy. Our family, our way of life—it can be overwhelming. I recognize that.” Desperation flickered around the edges of his words. He turned his hand beneath hers, capturing her fingers. “But you two were very good together. I do not believe he has ever gotten over you and my only defense lies in wanting my brother to be happy. He can very hidebound—very restricted by responsibility. I didn’t think he would ever make the move on his own.”
Anna frowned, trying to follow Sebastian’s rather circuitous dialogue, and the dull thud of the headache behind her eyes wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He sighed and glanced down, an expression vaguely resembling shame on his face. “I called them.”
“Called who?” Utterly mystified, Anna fought her scowl. It was like having a conversation with Penny when she didn’t want to admit something out loud.
“The press.” The younger prince grimaced. “I called the press and told them you and Armand were together again?—”
“You did what?” Armand’s furious voice sliced across the stunned silence.
Chapter 11
Armand
Rage burned like acid in Armand’s veins. He took in the scene with one glance from Anna’s red-rimmed eyes to the way his younger brother held her hands—comforting and familiar. Too damn familiar.
Sebastian jerked to his feet, releasing her in the process. “Armand, I?—”
“Silence.” For once, his brother did exactly what he told him to do.
“Charlie.” Anna stood. “Sebastian was just?—”
“Anna, if you will excuse us, Johnson can return you to the penthouse.”
“I will not excuse you,” she sputtered. She paced toward him and he got a better look at the puffiness around her eyes—the redness. “I’m a part of this.”
Coldness fisted in his gut. George. The FBI. The death threats. Anna’s reticence. Now Sebastian. His world threatened to spin out of control, and it was his responsibility to see to it all. It had always been his responsibility. Dabbling in the game of Charlie was an amusing pastime, but he’d made the mistake of believing in the fairy tale. “Actually, it is a family matter. Now please excuse us.”
Anna stiffened. “Charlie?—”
“Enough, Anna.” An aggravating day with the FBI’s team of analysts and his own security forces had left Armand in a foul temper. The FBI further rocked him with news about the discovery of a device in Anna’s house that could have detonated her gas line. Yes, they’d removed it and kept it quiet, but their actions didn’t change the vigor of the threat. Richard’s texts about Nikole’s ill-advised slip had served to only fuel his anger. He’d gone directly to the fourteenth floor to find Anna. The last thing he wanted wasanotherbattle with her—not when they’d come so close to a breakthrough earlier in the day—before his life, hisdutyintervened. Now, Sebastian’s betrayal, it was just too much.
He stared at his brother, but directed his words to Anna. “Go.”
Without another word, she strode out of the room and the door slammed behind her.
“You didn’t have to be such an ass to her,” Sebastian began, but swallowed whatever else he might have said when their gazes clashed.
“If not for the gravity of your injury, I’d break that nose of yours and shove your teeth down your throat.” He might yet. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep his hands at his sides and not fisted. Only a handful of weeks before, a knife had been thrust between Sebastian’s ribs and punctured his lung—had his bodyguard not reacted so swiftly… Armand ended the path of that thought. “Explain exactly what you did.”
Sighing, his brother clasped his hands behind his back. “When you called me to ask for my advice, it was the first time in years I heard hope in your voice. Hope and desire—for something other than a new project for orphans.” His brother sighed, his face twisting as though he struggled with the words. “You haven’t been the same since she left.”
“I did not ask for your analysis of my mental condition or my phone call. I was on the other end of the receiver.” Apparently calling his brother had been a mistake. He’d thought Sebastian might understand the conundrum—as second in line, Sebastian’s education and upbringing had closely matched Armand’s own. Like him, Sebastian did not form attachments and he dutifully went where the family sent him—save for his little rebellions. Rebellions he as the second son had been allowed. “Why did you call the press?”
“Because you’re turning into your title, and you’re getting colder. You love that woman, you’re just too damn stubborn to see it. If you’d swallowed your pride for five minutes?—”
“Enough.” Armand sliced his hand through the air. Everyone wanted to argue with him. “You… George… Neither of you learn. Go have your injury seen to and no more phone calls.”
“I came to apologize to her. I didn’t consider the danger or how badly the press would react.”
“Of course you didn’t. But we did not play our parts in your little Machiavellian farce.” Sliding his hands into his pockets, Armand walked over to the windows and stared down at the city. The fourteenth floor was closer to the street and yet it felt very far removed from the frenzied pulse of life traveling beyond the walls of the tower.
After a long moment, his brother sighed, the door opened and he left.
“Your Highness.” Peterson must have been waiting for their exit.
