London
As the night progressed, we were moved inside the palace for dessert and wine. Men lit up cigars, and people spoke quietly together, the mingling continuing. Even though I knew the date, it seemed like I had stepped back in time to another era. I was standing among monarchs whose blood ran deep into history.
Including my date.
Crewe was social as he chatted with people he’d known since childhood, princes from distant lands and monarchs from other countries. His hand was usually around my waist, keeping me close to his side like I might drift away.
We moved away and approached the dessert table, the decadent sweets appeared almost fake because they looked so good. I wanted to try one of the brownies, but I was terrified of getting anything on my dress. Normally, I wouldn’t care. But this gown cost a fortune, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of these noble people.
“Are you going to get anything?” Crewe asked quietly, standing beside me.
“I want to but…” My hand moved to my stomach. “I shouldn’t.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous, and you know it. You can eat everything on this table and still be the most beautiful woman in this room.”
His compliment swept through my entire body, making me feel warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. “I’m just afraid I’ll stain my dress…”
“Oh…” He smirked and covered it as he drank his wine. “Well, yeah. You better not do that.”
I had the strength to turn away from the delicious morsels, but I secretly knew I would regret not trying everything at this dinner. “I have to ask you something.”
“Great,” he said with a sigh. “I knew the questions would start eventually.”
“You sell intelligence to people, right?”
His eyes darkened at the topic. “Yes. It’s one of my many businesses.”
“So, you mingle with all these monarchs like you’re friends and then turn around and sell their secrets for cash? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem rich enough to not have to resort to such betrayal.” I couldn’t keep the accusation out of my tone. Sometimes he did thoughtful things that surprised me, and then I remembered he did unforgivable things too.
“You’re right, for the most part.”
“Why would you do such a thing?”
He didn’t even bother to pretend to look guilty. “I have my reasons.”
“There’s a reason besides money?”
He discreetly glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us. “I don’t sell intelligence from my allies. That would be treason.”
My eyebrows narrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand…”
He turned his back to the rest of the room, giving us more privacy. He lowered his voice as he spoke. “A lot of these officials have information about other parts of the world, from threatening countries. I extract that information and sell it to the highest bidder.”
While I was still confused, that didn’t sound nearly as bad as I initially thought. “And what’s the point of all this?”
He brought his wine to his lips and took a drink. “You take down leaders without declaring war.”
This had to be about more than just money. It seemed like a lot of work for a rich man of royalty. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
His eyes softened as he looked into mine. “As a member of Scottish royalty, I can’t directly do anything against the men I despise. If I did, it could be considered an act of war from the United Kingdom. The queen is a very peaceful person and has already lived through one great war. I doubt she wants to live through another.” He took another drink, his eyes dark with simmering aggression.
“So you’re basically selling intelligence to men who have a common enemy?”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“And you’re making money off it at the same time?”
He nodded again. “You’re bright and beautiful.”
The compliment washed over me without seeping into my skin because I was too invested in the conversation to care about anything else. “Who is your enemy and why?” It was a personal question, but since I’d been sleeping with him for two months, I had the right to ask.
He inserted one hand into his pocket and glanced around to make sure no one was looking. “Russia. Not the people but the leaders. Secretary-General, Boris Peskov, was responsible for the death of my parents, and later, my older brother, Alec.”
I’d wondered about his family halfway through dinner. If they were alive, they would have been there, so I already made the assumption they were dead. I didn’t realize their death was caused by an international breach of code. “I…I’m sorry.” I actually felt pity in my heart, instantly sad for this man who kept me as a prisoner against my will. When he hurt, I hurt too. He didn’t deserve an ounce of my sympathy, but yet, he had it. I moved into his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him because that was all I knew how to do.
He stiffened at the touch then wrapped his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my head and took a deep breath, his powerful chest expanding against my cheek. “It was a long time ago.”
When I pulled away, I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. Our soft mouths pressed together, both tasting like wine and scotch. I stepped back, knowing I shouldn’t give him too much affection in a public place like this.
He stared at me blankly, like he could hardly believe what I just did.
“What happened?” I finally asked.
He stared at me for a few more minutes, his brown eyes soft like melted chocolate. He set his glass down on an empty tray a waiter carried as he passed, and then Crewe inserted his other hand into his pocket. “My father was a duke as well as a diplomat, so they traveled to Russia to discuss an international children’s program. During transfer from the airport to the palace, a lone gunman fired into their car and shot both of my parents. Alec survived and was rescued by Russian police. But he mysteriously fell ill during transport and died before he returned home. At the time, I was very young, so I stayed in Glasgow with Finley. I was just six at the time.”
I didn’t know what to say. The story was appalling and devastating. One day, his family left and never returned home. “Did they ever figure out who the gunman was?”
Crewe shook his head. “No. I think the Secretary-General of Russia was behind it.”
“That’s quite an accusation…”
“I have my reasons,” he said quietly. “I found out he used to be in love with my mother. He pursued her, but she denied his advances. Then she married my father, someone with more money and power. I suspect he never got over the rejection. So he murdered all of them, including her oldest son.” He said everything without an ounce of emotion, like this wasn’t his own family he was discussing.