Leopold: Part Three (10 page)

“You said Owen told you that you could stay here with conditions. What were they?”

His lips curl into a small smile. “He told me he’d follow me to Montovia and make me sorry I was ever born if you so much as broke a fingernail because of me. I believe his terminology may have been a tad more crass, but that was the general message.”

I let out a long breath. “Leo, there’s something you should know.” I pause, looking into his eyes. I take in a long breath and open my mouth to tell him, but I don’t get a chance to say another word before we hear the pounding coming from the front door.

“Police! Open the door!”

I
can’t say
this is the first time local police have disrupted one of my dates, but this is the first time I’ve found myself facing the intrusion with a knot of dread in my stomach. Part of me is tempted to ignore them, but I know from the look in Elle’s eyes that she has no intention of letting me do any such thing.

She was about to tell me something
, I think.
Something important. Another secret she’s been keeping.
But she seems to have thought better of the idea. Without a word, she turns and heads toward the front door.

I rub my forehead. Where did this all go wrong? She gave me the opportunity to win her over on a date—and I am usually the
master
of dates—but somehow we ended up right back where we started. I had her writhing in my arms again, for Christ’s sake. And then I went and set her blasted kitchen on fire. And insulted her with a careless gesture of dismissal. And left my phone in plain view.

Perhaps I deserve this after all.

But, no. She has to understand I’m not just using her. That what I said to Andrew was a mistake. That I’m not merely some arrogant, self-serving man who sees her as a
desperate measure.
What did she call me? Ah, that’s right—a
motherfucking douchebag asshole.

I catch up to her at the front door.

“Let me handle them,” I tell her.

“And why should I trust you to do that?”

“They’re here for me, after all.” I reach around her and grab the door handle. “We were in the middle of a conversation, Elle, and I have every intention of finishing it.”

A fist pounds against the door again, making both of us jump.

“Open up!” comes a booming male voice from the other side. “This is the police!”

“Elle,” I say, lowering my voice so that they can’t hear us on the other side, “I need you to let me handle them.”

“So you can try and charm your way out of this mess? No, thank you. It will be easier for both of us if you just go with them.”

“On the contrary, Elle,” I say, leaning closer to her. “If they drag me out of here against my will in front of all those cameras, this situation will only get worse. For both of us.” I look into her eyes, but her expression is guarded. “You said you were worried about my family looking into your family’s past. What did you mean by that?”

A flicker of panic flashes in her eyes. “Leo, this isn’t the time—”

She’s cut off by another loud knock on the door.

“This is your last warning!” booms the man on the other side. “Open the door or we’ll have to use force.”

“We need to open the door,” Elle says.

“Not until you tell me what you’re so afraid my family will discover.”

“There isn’t enough time—”

“Elle, if my family can discover it, the media will, too. And if you plan to have me arrested, then I can’t help you.” I straighten, twisting the doorknob. “Let me help you, Elle.”

I don’t wait for her response before opening the door. Immediately, the cameras on the street begin flashing like mad, but I put on my most charming of smiles as I greet the two uniformed men standing on the doorstep.

“Good day, officers,” I say. “Forgive us for the delay. We were indisposed and didn’t hear you at first.”

One of the men—a tall, gangly fellow with dark hair—shifts his eyes between Elle and me. The other—a large, burly man who I suspect belongs to the booming voice—simply frowns.

“We were sent out here to remove you from the premises,” says the burly one, looking less-than-pleased to be assigned to this particular mission. “We were told you were being held here against your will and required immediate assistance.”

“
Your Highness
,” adds the taller one, which earns him a glare from his partner.

“Yes, well, as you can see,” I say, indicating the cluster of vans and reporters on the street, “we’ve found ourselves trapped here by a few overzealous members of the media. I understand these things can’t always be helped, but it would be much appreciated if you could remove them.”

Beside me, Elle shifts, but she doesn’t say a word.

“We were told to extract you from this situation,” the burly one says. “To escort you ourselves to the embassy.”

“Ah, well I can see that my poor father was misinformed of the situation,” I say lightly. “Though I suppose I can’t be that surprised, considering he’s on the other side of the world. I assure you, officers, I am not here against my will. But I would appreciate it if we were free to come and go as we please without being harassed. I hope they haven’t given
you
any trouble—I’d hate to drag any more people into this mess.”

“They wanted to know why we’re here,” says the gangly one. “But don’t worry—we know how to be discreet.”

If you knew that, you would have gone to the side or back door instead of conducting this scene in full view of the cameras.
But I widen my grin.

“I can see that, and I thank you for it,” I say. “I know my father would have made sure that only the finest officers were sent to check in on me.”

The gangly man straightens his shoulders, smiling, but his burly partner isn’t buying it.

“It smells like something is burning,” he says.

“Ah, yes, we had a bit of an accident when we were making lunch,” I say. “I’d invite you in for something to eat, but I can’t imagine you’d want to try my cooking. We do have some wine, though, if I might interest you in a glass. Or some tea or soda? There’s no reason for us to be having this discussion out here on the doorstep. Perhaps you’d like to come in and get more comfortable?”

Beside me, Elle starts to protest. “Leo—”

She’s cut off by the burly officer. “That won’t be necessary.” He glares up at me. “I don’t like to have my time wasted. Our resources are limited enough as it is. Is there a problem here or isn’t there?”

“The only problem is the crowd out there on the street,” I say, waving my hand. “I’d be much obliged if you could send them off.”

“I’m afraid as long as they’re on public property, there’s not much we can do,” he says. His gaze shifts to Elle. “Ma’am, are there any further problems here?”

I look over at her, my chest tightening. If she really wishes to see me gone, now is her chance to say something—to tell these men I refuse to leave, or to corroborate my father’s claims somehow—and for a moment, I’m not sure whether or not she’ll take advantage of the opportunity to be rid of me. She looks out at the reporters on the street, then up at me.

“Ma’am?” the officer says again.

In her eyes, I see many different emotions—anger, fear, confusion, hope—and I don’t know what to make of it. She turns back to the police officer.

“The only problem is
them
,” she says, indicating the press. “Is there really nothing you can do to get them to leave?”

“We can try,” says the gangly one. He looks over at his partner. “Seeing as this is a diplomatic mission and all, couldn’t we at least try?”

“They still have every right to be on public property,” the burly one says. “And most of them know it. But we can say a few words to them on the way out.” He’s still frowning as he looks us over one more time. “In the future, I would appreciate it if you and your family went through more appropriate channels rather than using the county’s resources for something like this. There are people under our jurisdiction who actually need help.”

“And I genuinely appreciate your commitment to your job,” I say. “As well as the thorough way in which you have handled this situation, in spite of your personal feelings. I will ensure that my father knows of your service—in fact, if you care to give me your full names and contact information, I will personally see that you are given a reward for your good work.”

“We don’t need any rewards,” says the burly one. “This is our job.”

But when he sees that his partner is already enthusiastically scribbling down his information on a slip of paper, he rather sheepishly does the same.

“Have a fine afternoon, officers,” I say as they retreat down the steps. “Thank you for your concern.”

The reporters and photographers move toward the officers the moment they can, eager for any information they can get about why law enforcement might have been called here. We’re too far away to hear what the officers say to them in return, so I close the door and turn back to Elle.

“Do you think it’ll work?” she asks me. “Do you think they’ll actually get them to leave?”

I shrug. I wish I could assure her that the media is no longer a concern, but even if they
do
leave, this is only the beginning.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” I tell her. “There’s little we can do but wait.”
And finish our conversation.

Elle is biting her nail. “I should have told them to take you away from here.”

“Perhaps. But you decided to trust me instead.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“No,” I say, placing my hands on either one of her shoulders and turning her toward me. “Because you fear something else far more than you fear the things you feel when you’re around me.”

Her eyes open. “I can still call the police back here. I can still tell them to get you out of my house.”

“First, I want you to tell me what you’re so afraid of,” I say. “What horrible secret are you afraid everyone will learn? You’re talking about something beyond what your abhorrent boss did to you, aren’t you? And why were you so interested in your brother’s conditions for my coming here?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she says. “Just forget it.”

I thought I knew the darkest parts of her past, the secrets she was afraid the press would learn. But looking at her now, I realize I was wrong. There’s a much deeper dread hiding inside of her.

And I intend to do everything in my power to uncover what’s causing it.

“I don’t intend to forget it,” I tell her. “In fact, I don’t intend to do anything else at all until you tell me exactly what’s going on.”

I
should have told
them to take Leo. I had my chance, and I let it slip through my fingers. But my brain is so foggy now—three glasses of wine with no food in my stomach is making it difficult to make a good decision. Not that I make many of those, even when I’m not half-drunk.

His hands trail down my shoulders until he’s holding me by my upper arms. He tilts his head, forcing my gaze to his. “Tell me, Elle. What were you going to say?”

My lips curl into a forced smile. “I was
going
to say that we never had lunch. And I should probably eat something. I think I might have had a little too much wine.” At least
that
isn’t a lie—I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to pass a sobriety test if the police officers had decided to give me one.

His gaze narrows slightly. “Elle…” He pauses—I can tell he’s waiting for me to finish what I was about to say to him.

But I shake my head a little and squirm out from under his grasp, walking back into the kitchen. “I think peanut butter sandwiches would be the best thing under the circumstances. I’ll have to look at what exactly is in the kitchen later and maybe I can come up with something for dinner. Or maybe we can order a pizza if the damn reporters will let a delivery driver through.”

Leo sits down at the table and watches me pull the bread from the basket on the counter and a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard above it. I smile over at him. “Did you buy jelly, too? They didn’t have jam or jelly in Rio de Campo, so I always made do with plain peanut butter, but I didn’t mind. It was better than trying to—”

“Elle.” Leo has his hands tented together on the table, and a look of concern clouds his eyes. Add to that the way he’s dressed and it’s all pretty similar to the first day we met in the clinic. Right before he almost accused me of misappropriating funds.

I force a smile and return to making the sandwiches, but I don’t say anything to him. I know he wants to talk about it—what I almost said before the police came to the door. But he doesn’t need to know.
No one
needs to know. Especially Leo. Especially if he really
does
believe this is something more than a desperate measure or a distraction.

I glance over at him again—his gaze is still fixed on me. I know I’m going to have to do something to get him to forget about it—to forget I ever said anything. Because I shouldn’t have. The things that happened before I left here…they were bad. Everything went to hell in a hand basket before Owen and I left for Rio de Campo, but it all worked itself out. Mostly.

I set the sandwiches on plates and carry them over, taking a seat across from Leo at the table.

He takes his plate from my hand, frowning. “Elle.” It’s not really a question—the way he says my name is more like he wants
me
to finish the sentence.

But I plaster the same stupid smile on my face before I take a bite of my sandwich. I look up at him after I finish chewing. “This peanut butter is much better than what we had in Rio de Campo.” I motion to his still untouched sandwich. “You should try it.”

His head shakes slightly and his jaw tenses. His voice is lower, almost growling. “Elle.”

I take another bite of my sandwich, trying to ignore the very real anger I can hear in the tone of his voice.

He takes in a long breath—it almost seems like he’s trying to calm himself. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Elle, you need to finish telling me what you were going to say.”

My lips curl into another smile, though the effects of my phony happiness on him seem to have worn off. I start to panic a little—and I use the only thing I can think of to distract him. “I was thinking that after lunch, maybe we could try one of those things you were telling me about before. The other ways you have of impressing me. I imagine there are a few other positions we can try. You never did bend me over the counter the way you promised—”

He slams a palm down on the table, interrupting me. “Elle.” His eyes are wide and I can see something more than anger in them now—fear, maybe.

“Leo…” My voice trails off and I frown. I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t really tell him anything, though if I did, it would definitely make him want to leave without too much more of a fuss. I suppose if I had been honest with him from the beginning, I could have cut this off without so much drama. But it isn’t really my secret to tell.

Not that any of this really matters. On the one hand, if I tell Leo the truth, he’ll walk out—he’ll probably call the cops back to come and take him to his stupid embassy. And wasn’t that what I wanted a few minutes ago? I’m still not sure why I hesitated when the police were here. All I would have had to do was tell them that I had asked him to leave and request they escort him from my house. It would have been done and over within a few seconds—and it would have been humiliating for both of us, considering the number of cameras on the other side of my lawn. But it would have been over. I could have chalked this all up to another round of Elle’s poor judgment.

On the other hand, if I don’t tell him anything, there’s a chance no one will ever find out. There’s a
possibility
. A small one, granted—I know the media can be horrible to celebrities. They have no privacy, Leo included. I can’t imagine living like that. My life has been bad enough—and keeping secrets has almost killed me. The last thing I want is for any of this to get out. But I never saw this coming—I never believed there was any real possibility of me even
meeting
someone like Leo, let alone getting involved with him. I’ve seen plenty of celebrities since I’ve lived here—all I really have to do is walk a few blocks down to the Promenade and I can see more than I want to see. It’s almost a sport here—celebrity sightings. But the most anyone ever really gets from those sightings is an autograph or maybe a photo. They certainly don’t
sleep
with the famous people they meet. They don’t
bring them to their house
.

I look across at Leo as I take another bite of my sandwich. I’m pretty sure it’s too late for the bread to soak up any of the alcohol I so liberally downed a little while ago. And it’s probably a good thing, considering how Leo is almost glaring at me. I’m going to need that alcohol in my system to be able to handle this. I’ll need it to deal with the fact I’m running out of ways to deflect the questions in his eyes.

He finally shakes his head. “We’ll not leave this table until you tell me what it is you were going to say. If there is something you’re hiding—something that puts me in danger…”

“Danger.” I try not to snort. “You’re not in
danger
. Why would you think that?”

His brows knit together and he gives me another slow shake of his head. “Why did you ask about Owen?”

I shrug and take another bite of my sandwich. I chew for a long time, our gazes locked together. “Do you want some water? I really should have brought over something to drink. Peanut butter, you know—”

“Elle.” The word is clipped. Angry. “Tell me now.”

I sigh. “There’s nothing to tell. And if you’re really that worried about it, you should text your brother and send some of your family’s minions digging. That’s how it works, right?”

“How what works?”

“The whole
entitlement
thing. That’s what it means—you have a title, so you’re
entitled
. Even if you aren’t entitled to anything, really.”

He shakes his head again. “You’re not going to use your defense mechanisms this time. No more deflecting, Elle. I just want you to finish telling me what you were going to say.”

“But you already know enough. There’s already a long line of skeletons in my closet just waiting for the media out there to dig them up. I have no doubt they’ll have one of them on television by tonight, detailing every last thing I ever did.” I force another smile. “But we don’t have to turn on the TV. We can hang out here, and you can fuck me senseless again.”

“I see how this is. I…I see.”

“Good.” I smile again before taking another bite of my sandwich. I motion to his. “You should eat, too. We never did have breakfast.
Or
lunch. And I’m sure you’re going to need some energy if we’re going to keep pace with the standards we’ve set for ourselves—”

“Elle…” He shakes his head as his voice trails off. His fingers tent together on top of the table again. “You let men use you to avoid confrontation. Is that it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Leo.”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pauses for a moment. “What happened with Owen? There wasn’t…” An unmistakeable look of disgust clouds his expression. “…confrontation, was there?”

“Ew.” My lip curls up. “I’m sort of disgusted that you went there. He might as well be my
brother
. And the fact you could even
think
…”

“Stop.” He holds up a hand. “
Might as well be
?”

My mouth falls open when I realize I let
that
little secret out. But it really is a
little
secret in the grand scheme of things.

I shrug. “His father abandoned him with my mother. She raised us both.” My shoulders lift again. “It really isn’t a big deal. He
is
my brother. Step-brother, if we’re being technical.”

He blinks at me a few times. “I never did see the resemblance.”

I smile and nod. Maybe he’ll take that as the big revelation that I almost told him. Maybe he’ll drop it now and—

“And what were you going to tell me, Elle? What was it about Owen?”

Fuck, I guess he won’t be dropping it.

I fake another smile. “Nothing. Just that, you know, he’s lived with me since our mom died and people will probably find that weird. That’s all. No big deal. People are gross about stuff like that. Sort of like you were just now.”

“You’re lying.” He shakes his head. “I understand why you don’t trust me. I’ve given you very little reason to do so. But if you want me to help you—”

“I
don’t
want you to help me, Leo. Haven’t I made that pretty clear?”

“Indeed, you have.” He lets out a long breath and looks down at his sandwich before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “I’m beginning to understand what it is about you.”

“What
what
is about me?” I narrow my gaze. “What is it you’re trying to say, Leo?”

He finally lifts his sandwich and takes a bite. He stares at me the entire time he’s chewing. “I think I will take a glass of water if it isn’t too much trouble.”

I nod and go to the kitchen. I bring back a glass of water for each of us, sliding his across the table to him.

He takes another bite of his sandwich and washes it down with a long drink of water before meeting my gaze again. He stares at me for a long moment. “You use your body as a defense mechanism. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He nods. “I think you know
exactly
what I’m talking about. Someone used you—you had a bad experience sometime in the past. We’ve all had them, Elle.”

“Hm. Even His Royal Highness?”

He lifts a brow. “Even me. But now you think you aren’t deserving of affection. Because you believe your body is—I don’t know. Tainted, perhaps.”

“Hm. I think you may have taken one too many psychology classes in college, Your Highness.”

He nods, but his expression is still blank. “You use your body now to get what you need. Not necessarily what you want—it’s just a form of protecting yourself.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’ve done the psychoanalysis already. Be sure to send me your bill.”

He tilts his head. “When our conversation became difficult, that was your first offer. You didn’t try to lie—not really. You avoided the questions and when that stopped working, you offered your body as some sort of sacrifice.”

“Well. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” I force another smile. “And my offer is off the table now, in case you were wondering.”

He doesn’t return my smile or offer me much in the way of anything other than a frown. “Elle, what happened with your brother? Did you do something?”

“No.”

“Then
he
did something. And you’re hiding it.”

I stare at him, saying nothing.

His gaze locks with mine for an uncomfortable moment. “And you’re willing to give your body to cover up whatever it is you’re hiding. Or whatever it is
he’s
hiding.”

My cheeks burn and my gaze drops to what’s left of my sandwich.

He nods again. “I see.”

“You see nothing, Your Highness.” I take a long drink from my glass—something needs to cool down the fire burning in my face.

Maybe I haven’t given Leo enough credit. Maybe he really did figure this out for himself—or perhaps he’s already had his minions digging up dirt on me. But there’s no way someone would be able to find anything out. Not unless they knew what they were looking for.

“Elle…” His voice trails off and he stares into his water glass. “If you really do want me to go, I’ll leave now.”

I lift my gaze to meet his. “I…” I don’t know what I want—not really. I don’t know what to do with myself around him. He’s not wrong about my body being tainted. He’s not wrong about anything—I just didn’t realize anyone would ever be able to see through me like this. I thought I had been doing a pretty good job of keeping those parts of myself covered up. Burying everything under my detachment and sarcasm. I never imagined I would meet anyone—ever—who would be able to see past any of it. But I also never thought I’d meet someone like Leo—someone who makes me come alive. Because I haven’t felt alive in a really long time.

“You…what, Elle?” He looks at me expectantly, carefully hiding whatever it is he’s feeling.

I wish I could read him. I need some way of knowing he isn’t like the rest of them. That he doesn’t mean to use me—that he won’t crush me the second I let my guard down. The past day with him is the closest I’ve been to being vulnerable in longer than I can remember. And he walked out on me this morning. I’m not sure I can trust his change of heart, if that’s even what it was. Nothing is saying he won’t have another.