Page 21 of Some Like It Scandalous (Going Royal #2)

Armand

R age 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 was another battle with her—not when they’d come so close to a breakthrough earlier in the day—before his life, his duty intervened.

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.

Not turning around, Armand closed his eyes. “Yes?”

“Miss Novak is secure in the penthouse.”

“Thank you.”

“Agent Fielding called, they wanted to clarify that they have officially identified another player in the latest threats against Miss Novak.” Latest threats—four more had arrived over the course of the week. Each promised an escalation in violence.

“More than the magazine reporter?” A disgruntled magazine reporter working for a local periodical had attempted to trade on a professional relationship with Anna and she’d snubbed him by failing to respond.

According to the agents, when questioned, the man pled guilty to felony threat and third-degree stalking.

He’d also lost his job. Two others had been discredited as copycats.

The fourth, however, had been as credible as the first. And far more violent—including three photographs of Anna taken at different points during the week as she visited potential scholarship recipients. Each one had featured her security.

They’d included crosshairs, distance references and a one-word note: anytime.

“Yes, in addition to adding Yuri Markov—the businessman Prince George took the loan from—they have information from a credible source citing political unrest in Belaria.”

Turning around, Armand stared at Peterson.

Belaria, a tiny footnote of a country straddling a landmass between Russia, Hungary and the former Czechoslovakian Republic.

The independent Slavic nation established a formal government after the collapse of the U.S.S.R.

, but prior to the revolution it had been an ancestral home to Russian Czars, filled with noble estates and huge tracts of hunting land for young princes to cut their teeth safely.

“Good God, why there?” The family maintained few interests in the region due to the unrest. Even his cousin Francesca, with her peculiar habits for visiting hot spots, avoided the region.

“It seems they’ve developed a multiparty system over the last five years.

In the last several months, one has truly begun to gain a foothold over the others.

” Peterson’s implacable expression kept his emotions in check, but Armand dreaded what he was about to say.

“A royalist party that has named you their titular figurehead.”

The headache behind his right eye became a red-hot poker of pain digging into his brain.

“Find out what you can. Keep Sebastian and George on lockdown—and reach out to my mother’s security forces, as well as the Graces.

” His aunt—his father’s sister—and her husband were likely in the United States, but their three daughters were more likely in Europe.

Peterson walked him to the elevator, they rode up to the security level where Peterson exited and if not for the camera, Armand would have leaned against the wall.

Sebastian called the press. Of all the brash, impulsive, foolhardy things to do…

On the penthouse floor, Johnson waited outside the door, an unusual deviation from protocol. He lifted a brow at the man and the bodyguard straightened. “Your Highness.”

“Is Miss Novak secure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why are you still here?” He didn’t bother to disguise his annoyance.

To access the penthouse required the security station to allow the elevator to travel to the floor in the first place.

Security did not remain on this floor unless expressly invited—not with Anna in residence.

He valued his privacy—what little he could manage—especially with her.

“Miss Novak was not in the best frame of mind, sir. I thought it prudent to be available.” If Armand wasn’t mistaken, Johnson’s attitude held a firm note of disapproval and verged on insubordinate.

“I will take care of Miss Novak. Good night, Johnson.”

The man bowed slightly, and Armand waited until the elevator doors closed and he descended before opening the door to his apartment.

Anna stood in the middle of the living room, arms folded with cool hostility in her gaze.

He’d had a whole speech prepared on the drive over, and he’d wanted to soothe any feathers ruffled by Nikole’s ridiculous actions.

But the incident with Sebastian had pushed it out of his head.

“Before you say anything…” He needed to explain. “I have no idea what Nikole was thinking when she made that statement. But it is categorically not true.” He could only hope she believed him.

“You’re not engaged?”

“Of course not.” He frowned. “I understand it was difficult to hear.”

“Not really.” Anna shook her head. “Not even a little. If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I’m sure you have other royal business you need to attend to.”

“Anna—” He caught her arm, and she glared at him. “I’m not engaged.”

“Maybe you should be—maybe she wouldn’t care if you ordered her around like a dog. I, however, do.” Jerking her arm free, she made it three steps before spinning around. “But you know what’s the worst part?”

Impassive, he stared at her. “I am certain you will tell me.”

“You don’t know, do you?” Shock replaced the upset in her expression.

“Anna, I’m tired and I have a headache. It has been an incredibly challenging day. On any other occasion, I would revel in letting you sharpen your tongue against me, but if you could simply tell me what it is that has upset you in a rational manner, we can deal with it and move on.”