Page 51 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy (Spies and Royals #4)

“I want to be open with you about everything,” he said, “and…” he took a steadying breath, “I’ve received a message from my mother…”

Panic shot through her like lightning. Whatever secret he was about to share might be picked up by that hateful necklace that he wore around his neck like a noose.

Immediately her fingers flew to his mouth, pressing against his lips to stop the words. “No, please…”

His hand covered hers, his brow furrowing with concern. “Okay, you’re acting off. You need to talk. What happened between you and your father? Did he tell you who was behind Aggie Mnon? How did they catch him? C’mon, Bris, I need to know.”

She shook her head frantically, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of desperation and self-loathing.

Her desire to confide in him, to beg for his help while digging out the truth of what he was doing from his own lips, all crashed against the cold reality of what would happen if she did.

“He wouldn’t say anything about Aggie,” she found herself telling him.

At least that wasn’t a lie. Her father had refused to answer her questions about her murderous cousin. “I’m… sorry.”

Achilles searched her face with concern, his powerful frame radiating the strength she desperately wanted to draw from. “As your husband, I will protect you… will you let me?”

She let out a breath. Did this even exist—a man who would fight for her, adore her, who would shield her from the world? Maybe he wanted to pretend this was their reality as much as she did?

That only made things worse.

“Talk to me,” he whispered. The ache in his eyes made her gut twist in response.

Everything was ruined before it had begun.

She couldn’t fake that this was a real marriage anymore; that meant pushing him away and fast. Pull off the Band-Aid already!

Make him hate the fake version of herself rather than discover who she really was and use it against her, like everyone else did.

She scrambled away from him, putting the width of the room between them.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk about what happened.

Let’s talk!” She’d throw every suspicion at him like weapons.

“My father told me that you’ve been calling Charisse every night, telling her that you want out of this prison…

. Not that I blame you. It really is awful here.

” She shrugged at him, not daring to look at him, not wanting to see how much he disliked her yet.

“Every night? That’s a lie.”

“Oh yes, well, that’s splitting hairs, isn’t it?

” He didn’t deny it. Point in her favor.

“You’re not that committed to anyone—everyone knows that!

But how did you not know my father wouldn’t surveil your calls?

Don’t get me wrong, they were sickeningly sweet—I’m so happy that Charisse is willing to stay by your side, always and forever !

I just don’t understand why you wanted to be so discreet and to—to not let me find out about it.

I gave you an out with us—over and over!

Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I made it sound innocent to my father.

I think he bought it, but I have to hand it to you. You really had me scrambling.”

The look he gave her after she dared to face him was pure disbelief, hurt and confusion warring in his black eyes. “It was innocent…” He held his hands up. “Nothing was like that … I was upset those first few nights, sure, but I told you I’d never cheat on you.”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s not like you care about me!”

“How can you say that? Of course, I care! And I wasn’t talking about leaving you, Bris. I wanted to leave this place… not you— never you.”

Her breath caught, imagining they were in a world where she could believe him, wishing that he hadn’t sounded so eager to run away with Charisse during that phone call; he hadn’t bothered to set that home-wrecker straight after her soft answers of waiting for him, understanding him, being there for him, no matter the consequences.

He’d thanked her for it!

Her body deflated at the memory. “Just stop already. I’m ready to stop pretending if you are. I’m onto you, okay?”

“Onto what?” It almost came out a laugh, with a desperate edge of anger and pain. “Charisse told me her father worked with mine back in the day—that’s why I called her, and I was hoping she could tell me what happened to him. I told you I think he’s still alive.”

He wasn’t!

She gulped, wondering how closely her father was listening and decided not to chance trusting anyone again. “You said I wouldn’t want you after what you were going to do…”

“Oh, you want me to come clean then?” She didn’t trust that sudden storm in his eyes, or the way he stood and came for her. He swiped up her hand in his, his jaw taking on a stubborn tilt. “I don’t want you to be queen, and I still don’t want you to be. How’s that for honesty?”

“What?” He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d suddenly jumped out the window. Her father had basically accused Achilles of plotting this exact same thing, and he was admitting it freely? “How will you stop me from getting my crown?” she asked.

“In every way I can,” he told her bluntly. “I swore I’d do everything I could to get you out of here. The Earl of Alexopoulos won’t be putting his hands all over you again if I can help it!”

For one wild, irresponsible moment, her heart leaped at the thought of freedom, to be just Bris, running away with the man she loved, away from manipulations, and yes, even a crown!

“C’mon, Prissy,” his hand tightened on hers, and his voice took on that genuine, sincere tone when he was done playing, done with fighting.

“Let’s get out of here… together! We’ll sneak Gena out too!

” His eyes strayed to the window where her father’s helicopter was hidden behind the trees.

“I’ll fly you out of here. Just say the word, and we’ll never look back! ”

Could it really be so easy? They could just pack up and leave these people who depended on her—and how could she even consider that? Bris stood between them and the shadow government lying in wait to drain them of every resource they had…

The Myrdons would love to see her go! And without her father’s protection, there would be no pawns, no tricks, no checkmates to stop Achilles from falling victim to those terrorists’ every whim.

She was a child—such a gullible, na?ve, lovesick child.

Achilles might not love her, but some things couldn’t be faked—his guilt for one.

If the Myrdons gained control over him through his recklessness, he’d blame himself forever, especially if anyone got hurt; he’d punish himself like her father used to do to him, and he’d hate himself even more, if that was possible.

The passion that drove him would be gone, and he’d turn into a shell of what he was now.

No one would care, not the Myrdons if they won this war, not her father if he remained undefeated. Whoever wielded control over him would make him into their soulless, hollow slave.

But she cared… she cared, even if she had to make him think she didn’t.

Her father was right. The Earl was a far better companion for Bris—cold, untouchable, without a heart to break. It was time to make sure that no one could get to Achilles again, even if her father thought she was an incompetent child. “I think… Charisse is more your style.”

His fingers loosened over hers. “Are you serious right now?”

“Of course—she knows all about your daddy .” And yes, she meant to hurt him with that, noticed his wince and still kept going: “Better go to her and listen to whatever sweet nothings she plans to whisper in your ear. I think you’re perfect for each other actually.”

He was being too quiet, not arguing, not agreeing, not moving.

He was watching her—really watching her in a way that made her feel like he could see through the spite and straight into her heart, boiling the blood in her veins into an uncomfortable molten lava.

“No,” he said finally. “You’re trying to push me away, aren’t you?

” It wasn’t a question; just a statement with enough fire behind it to make her hold her breath.

“Tell me what’s really wrong. I don’t believe for a second that you ever thought I’d abandon you… not when we have what we have!”

How dare he refuse to take the easy way out she was offering him? How dare he see through her lies? Not even her father could see that far! She backed away from him to stop herself from giving in and telling him everything. “Just leave me alone!”

“Bris… listen to me!” He caught up to her in two quick strides, backing her gently against the wall.

His good arm braced against the doorframe beside her.

His eyes were fierce with urgency, desperate with some knowledge that made her blood run cold.

“I don’t care if your father is listening in on us now—I hope he is…

because I need to say this—this coronation can’t happen on Christmas Eve—your life is in danger. ”

The warning hung between them like a death sentence. He was corresponding with the Myrdons—her father was right about that—and they wanted her dead. This wasn’t a concerned message, this was a threat, whether he knew it or not.

And they were both helpless chess pieces to these dueling forces.

“Don’t do this, Bris,” he said. “It’ll get you killed!”

“I hope it does!” The words tore from her throat as she tried to push past him. He tried to reach for her, only for that sling to get in his way.

That’s when she saw something wild flash in his eyes—raw fury mixed with physical pain as he yanked the sling over his head with a sharp, violent motion.

He bit back a grimace to find her with both hands, keeping her there with him for just an agonizing moment longer.

Oh, heaven help her! She wanted to stay!

“You can’t mean that!” he said. “Listen to me, Bris. No one will lay a finger on you!”

The sight of him literally hurting himself in his need to keep her from danger, only confirmed what she already knew—caring about her, even in his own way, would destroy him.

“No… please, I’m so bored with this conversation already! I don’t need your help.” She whipped away, throwing in a toss of her hair to show him how little his speech moved her, her heart shattering with every step.

He didn’t have to know how much she wanted to take him up on his offer and run for that helicopter as fast as their legs could carry them.