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Authors: Anna Scarlett

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BOOK: Degrees of Wrong
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“Really, the details are not important, are they?” Nicoli ground out.

“Yes,” we snapped in unison.

Nicoli snorted. If the ceiling were alive, it would have cringed with his glare.

She wiggled around for a moment to get comfortable, then patted my hand. “Now, I am not sure how much you know about the whole thing, but this is the gist of it. One morning, we came down to breakfast and we see none other than our absentee son waiting for us at the table. He says he needs to discuss something with his father. He says it’s about his engagement. Then, our
other
absentee son, Ryon—I believe you’ve met him, my dear—walks in the door grinning like a cat and saying he
also
needs to talk to his father about getting married. He is surprised to see Nicoli, as he said he had come to deliver a message
from
Nicoli about setting a wedding date.

“He proceeded to tell his father the message—I could tell that he had been restricted to his use of language—and his father is growing very red in the face about the message—and then Ryon tells his father that at least
he
brought some good news with him, that he found his mystery woman, and that she had been staying with Nicoli these past months on his ship. Well, my dear, by then
I
could see what had obviously happened here, but you know how men can be, and so when Ryon said he was going to marry you and Nicoli said ‘Like hell you are’—oh! Please excuse the language, my dear, I’m just saying what
he
said—and then Nicoli punched his poor, defenseless brother in the nose, breaking it again! They wrestled all over the house, and only
two days ago
was I able to have the carpet replaced in the library!

“At any rate, after a few minutes I had to actually sit there and
tell
the Secretary-General of the United Nations that our sons were obviously fighting over the same woman, and when he realized what I was telling him, he broke up the fight and said neither of them could marry you, that he wouldn’t even subject an enemy to such immature nitwits. Well they stared after him when he left the room and he came back with something in his hand… My dear, you should have
seen
their faces when he told them to draw straws for you! At any rate, when Ryon reached for a straw, his father snatched his hand away and said he had failed the test, that since Nicoli
refused
to draw straws, he was obviously the one in love with you, and this set Ryon off again and they took to fighting—I’ll never
ever
be able to replace that china pitcher, Nicoli Marek—and I dare say, young lady, you did a wonderful job repairing Ryon’s leg because he was really kicking with it that day—”


Mo-ther
,” Nicoli interjected through clenched teeth.

During the entire story I could only gasp appropriately as Lillian Marek gave an animated performance of punching and kicking and gouging throughout her regalement. Otherwise I embraced the persona of a nitwit myself, staring at her with eyes wide and mouth ajar.

She sheepishly covered her mouth with her petite hand. “So, Nicoli’s not engaged anymore.”

When I thought I could trust my tongue to form words, I said, “I—I’m afraid I still don’t understand—”

Nicoli rolled his eyes. “Shocker.”

Lillian drew in a deep breath, and I could tell she was prepared to finish the onslaught, but Nicoli raised his hand to her. “I will finish, thank you.”

He turned on his side to face me, propping his head up on his arm. “I spoke with my father, and he gave his blessing to allow me to formally withdraw my intentions toward my fiancée.”

“No. That is
not
what happened. You see, my dear? Men abhor details.” She pointed at her son. “What
really
happened was that Bakari—that’s my husband, but of course you already knew that—refused to allow Nicoli to break off the engagement. But then,
I
pointed out to him what a political advantage it would be to have his son marry the person who found the cure for the Black Death—we knew you could do it, my dear—and then he thought about it some more and agreed that it would be advantageous indeed, so he said that Ryon could marry you. Well, this outraged Nicoli, as you could imagine, and heaven only knows what he would have done if
I
hadn’t stepped in and threatened to leave my husband if he didn’t let Nicoli out of his engagement. You see, my dear, Bakari and I married
only
for love, and I always did hate that Nicoli wouldn’t have that. Oh, he never seemed to mind it before, until now. At any rate, Bakari eventually gave in, because he
knows
he needs me, who
else
is going to run this monstrosity of a house? And so, Nicoli’s not engaged anymore,” she finished again.

I glanced at Nicoli, but he had already buried his face in his pillow, balled fists holding it in place. I could see he had no intention of coming out anytime soon. I turned back to his overly excited mother and smiled. “Uh. Th-thank you.” But it sounded more like a question.

“You are quite welcome, my dear. I have been waiting here patiently to meet you ever since. Although I must say, I might have to threaten to leave him again, after what you did today.” She shrugged. “A mother does what she must.”

I tried very hard not to shake my head with disbelief. All these years, I had been under the impression that the wives of politicians should be…well,
secret
keepers. This woman was the epitome of frankness.

“I—I don’t know exactly where to begin—” I stuttered. Again, I glanced at Nicoli, who groaned into the pillow but wouldn’t surface. The most important part of her entire revelation was that Nicoli wasn’t engaged. So, despite the aching in my lungs, and the discord in my joints, I had never felt better in my entire life.

Still, as usual, I had inadvertently caused more trouble than should be possible, and I felt I should try to make amends. In spite of my elation at the sudden availability of the man lying next to me, I took on a serious demeanor. “I…I suppose an apology would be in order, for all of the trouble I’ve caused,” I began. “You should know that I had no idea your son was the prince—”

She giggled, and Nicoli jerked the pillow away from his face. “For God’s sake, Elyse, I’m not a prince.”

I swallowed. “Right. Well, then, whatever it is that you are.” I hoped my convoluted amendment made sense. “Might as well be,” I muttered. He raised his brow at me. “Uh, anyway, Mrs. Marek, I am so very sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused to your family. It was not done intentionally—well, most of it anyway—and you can be sure I am very sorry about your carpet and your china pitcher. Also, about the whole Black Death scare downstairs, and forcing your husband’s hand in my own political agenda. And I feel terrible about Ryon’s nose, but he really shouldn’t be using that leg so extensively just yet—”

“What about breathing, love? Are you sorry for breathing too? Put two women in a room and they’ll conjure up all sorts of nonsense…”

“Well, I don’t hear
you
taking any responsibility here, your
majesty
,” I scolded. Also, I elbowed him in the gut. “It’s not like
I
punched Ryon in the nose, or knocked over a china pitcher—”

“Busted it over his brother’s head,” his mother interjected.

“You busted it over his head? A china pitcher?”

“It was the closest thing. He was biting my leg. Have you ever been bitten in the leg? It doesn’t exactly tickle.”

Lillian clasped her hands together. “Oh. Speaking of Ryon, he’s on his way here this very minute. When he heard Elyse was here, he jumped a plane and—”

“I’m going to murder him,” Nicoli drawled. “Don’t think I haven’t been reading the news, Mother.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You of all people should know better than to pay attention to those useless tabloids, Nicoli.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but the tabloids tend to be true when it comes to
him
.”

I looked askance at Nicoli. He rolled his eyes and scooted closer to me. “I’ve been reading headlines such as ‘Most Eligible Bachelor Taken?’ or ‘Ryon Seeks Ring’ or ‘Younger Marek to Wed’. It appears my brother has been openly shopping for an engagement ring.”

“You can’t be serious. For
me
?”

“Is there any other woman in the universe?”

I tried to pinch him, but he scooted away, grinning.

“Here we go,” Dr. Folsom called from the door. She held two syringes in her hand as she approached us. Nicoli eyed her warily.

“Afraid of needles?” I asked.

“I was thinking of asking her for both doses, love. I need to regain some strength before my brother gets here.”

I giggled, but it occurred to me that he wasn’t joking.

 

 

Despite their heaviness, my eyes had no choice but to open with the sunlight streaming in the room. I reached beside me in the massive bed and ascertained that Nicoli was no longer there. Disappointed, I began to sit up. And froze.

General Marek had dragged over one of the ornate chairs from the sitting area by the large window. He was now seated in it a few feet from the bed, dressed in his night clothes, which were covered up by his long, burgundy robe. I wondered how long he had been there.

“So,” he said quietly. “The lioness awakens.”

I swallowed and finished sitting up. I glanced beside me in the bed to see if maybe Nicoli was still there and had just scooted away from me. He wasn’t. I was alone in the room with the secretary-general.

Seeing my action, he said, “I sent him to his own room last night. He needed the sleep as much as you did, but it became clear that he wouldn’t rest while you were ill.”

It seemed appropriate to swallow again.

He leaned closer, resting his elbows on his knees. He never took his eyes off me.

“I wonder what the world looks like from behind those pretty eyes of yours, Dr. Morgan.” He gave me a pensive look. “What, do you just wake up in the morning and say, ‘I think I’ll overtake a small country today,’ or ‘I wonder if there’s a long-standing government policy that needs subverting?’ For instance, what could you possibly be thinking right now?”

Unfortunately, it sounded like he actually wanted me to answer that last one, like he genuinely wanted to know the answer to it.

I cleared my throat, but as always, it didn’t help. “I…I was thinking about what I would do if you lunged at me right now,” I admitted.

He chuckled. “Oh? And what did you decide?”

“I decided I have a few options,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

“Such as?”

The first one would be to try to escape, of course. I considered his pressure points a distant option. Also, I could gouge his eyes. Still, my first option was the only one that wouldn’t get me a prison sentence. “I’d rather not say.”

He chuckled again, and I could see that his amusement was authentic. “Well, young lady, I will promise not to lunge at you, if you promise to talk with me for a bit. Just me and you. A frank discussion.”

I nodded—I at least owed him that much.

He sat back in the chair. “So. Let me clarify a few details. Please interrupt if you find my recollection of things is inaccurate.”

I didn’t protest.

“You saved my youngest son’s life and limb, ruined my oldest son’s engagement and captured the hearts of both of them in the process, creating a rift between them that might be irreversible. You turned my wife against me before actually meeting her. You found the cure to the Black Death using
my
funds,
my
equipment,
my
general assistance, and then you used it to force my hand in the most monumental political upheaval in UN history. Then, I find that you completely bluffed me out of my own self-credibility. Have I got it right?”

Technically. “Technically.”

“So, young lady, it would seem that you owe me a favor.”

That was unexpected. But undeniably true. I nodded.

“All I ask is that you stay away from Nicoli.” He held up his hand when he saw the protest at my lips. “No, no. I see you’re misunderstanding me. I’m not asking that you stay away from my son indefinitely. However, as the dissolution of his engagement has not been made public, I don’t feel it would be prudent for the two of you to be seen together. I know that my son would refuse my request, but I felt perhaps you would be more levelheaded about it, out of respect for the young lady and her family.”

Staying away from Nicoli was not my specialty. “How long?”

“I have left the decision up to them as to when they will announce it publicly. Since my family is the offending party, it was the least I could do.” He shrugged.

“Nicoli won’t agree to this.”

“That’s where you come into play, Dr. Morgan. You’ll simply have to turn away his advances until this little issue can be tucked into bed.”

So, Nicoli was no longer engaged, and I
still
had to stay away from him? It was the definition of injustice.

“You should have just arrested me then,” I snapped. “That would have been easier for everyone involved. Your son is not easily dissuaded.” Didn’t he know this? For the love of…

“But you
can
do it. If you can do everything I just accused you of, then you can deflect the advances of my son for just a little while longer.” He stood to leave. “Do we have a deal, Dr. Morgan?”

BOOK: Degrees of Wrong
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