Chapter Four
Valenti wondered whether she knew her own power.
That she above all people, even his family, had the power to command him with a word or a gesture.
That in making that final promise with Helga’s last breath, he’d placed himself entirely in Lotte’s hands.
Because he would slit his own throat before he allowed a single hair on her head to be harmed.
Which made her protestations and righteous anger almost…laughable.
Because along with the almost melodramatic heights of his vow came the equal, paradoxical determination and conviction that he would save her despite herself. So turning away from the naked plea in her eyes hadn’t been as insurmountable as it’d first seemed.
He fixed his gaze on the snow-laden horizon, thankful he hadn’t needed to act on his threat.
Hadn’t needed to test his resolve by having her in his arms. Unexpectedly though, her side of the helicopter had quietened.
He frowned, wondering for a moment if he’d forgotten whether she was afraid of heights.
She didn’t look panicked or distressed.
He welcomed the peace, a knot easing in his gut.
He had little patience for melodramatics.
He had enough of that from his mother who, apparently finding his frigid silences a challenge, had needled him since long before he had grown out of long shorts.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t grown out of that particular sport and even at thirty-six he had to frequently contend with her histrionics.
Her need to drag everyone down to her level of unhappiness because, all these decades later, she was still desperately aggrieved about not being picked as queen of Cartana.
Never mind that growing up, he’d had his own battles to overcome as one of the King’s bastard sons, shunned by other snobbish aristocratic houses and his own father’s royal council.
That he and Teo hadn’t even been allowed to live in Cartana or its palacio until much later in life.
After he’d been found to have a use the council couldn’t deny.
But Valenti had long shored up his foundations so that these days very little penetrated his armour.
So yes, he welcomed Lotte’s silence.
What he didn’t welcome was this need to keep glancing at her from the corner of his eye, to check for signs of distress. She shouldn’t be unhappy. She should be frothing with gratitude that he was making such an effort to keep her safe.
Twenty minutes flew by and still she said nothing.
He shifted in his seat, frowning at his inability to stop checking on her.
Their headphones had two-way communication.
They were guaranteed the privacy of a closed cabin, with his two bodyguards up front with his pilot.
Was this the longest time she’d gone without speaking? His mouth twisted at the thought.
Her gaze flicked to him then, irritation sparking her eyes. Valenti’s stomach clenched, and his breath held as he braced for another episode of dramatics. But after a moment, she turned back to the window.
And for the first time in his life, he was served up the return experience of being given the silent treatment.
‘You asked where we were going,’ he offered gruffly.
She turned her head again, but her eyes no longer held the spark. Then she had the audacity to shrug. To dismiss him once more.
Gritting his teeth would be too much reaction so he forced himself to relax into his seat, to cross one ankle over his knee. Again, her eyes flickered over him briefly before returning to the landscape.
‘My cabin is in Syren.’
No reaction.
‘We’ll be there in another twenty minutes.’
Her gaze stayed on his for all of three seconds before she nodded.
Another four minutes passed before impatience drove him to tap his headphones. ‘If you’re worried about being overheard by anyone else, this channel is private.’
Her eyes widened then moved over his pilot and guards. ‘There’s nothing I want to say to you in private that I wouldn’t say in front of them.’
His eyebrow quirked, openly mocking. ‘Then I’m curious as to why you’ve gone mute.’
‘You seem eager and determined to throw your weight around, ignoring what I want at every turn. So what’s the point?’
He should’ve been pleased with that. He wanted her compliant, docile even, didn’t he? Yes. So why was there an itch beneath his rib like he was pulling a resistant muscle?
He dismissed the thought, and angled his body so he could avail himself of her profile.
‘And what exactly do you want besides being kept safe from unwanted attention?’ The very mention of the danger she’d treated so blithely made anger roll through him once again.
‘Isn’t a secluded cabin with a roaring fire one of your favourite things? ’ he grated.
The moment the little nugget left his lips he wanted to take it back. But he shrugged it off. He was perfectly within his rights to learn every single thing about her. Her gaze turning fully on him also shouldn’t have drawn such a pleased reaction. What the hell was wrong with him?
‘You remember that?’ she muttered, her gaze searching his far too keenly.
He sucked in a breath, already wishing back the silence he’d interrupted.
‘It’s the middle of the night. Using the cabin for this purpose was merely expedient,’ he said briskly. ‘Once we resolve this problem you can be back to whatever you get up to within hours. Besides, as I said before it’s my duty to know everything.’
‘Well, this particular duty belongs in the archives. I liked frozen cabins once upon a time, maybe when I still believed in Santa and leaving cookies by an open fire the night before Christmas. If I remember correctly, you have dozens of properties across the world. I could’ve been on my way to sun myself on a beach in the Bahamas.
Or in a jungle paradise in Costa Rica. If you’d bothered to ask me, I would’ve chosen anywhere but a snow cabin in the middle of nowhere. ’
It was clear evidence of what a dangerous road he tread when he immediately considered changing his plan, granting her wish. No. ‘Nevertheless, that’s where we’re staying for the moment.’
A corner of her plump mouth twisted in half mockery, half resignation that pulled at the muscle in his chest again. ‘Like I said, why do I even bother?’
For the rest of the journey, he was forced to ask himself the very same question. Unfortunately, the answer that came back to him was one that pulled at a very different muscle altogether.
The muscle of loss and guilt. Of promises made with blood on his hands and sorrow a permanent vice around his heart.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’
Valenti stood, arms folded in the middle of the cabin’s living room, listening as her feet thundered down the short hallway in the two-story structure before descending the stairs at a speed that made him wince and lock his knees so he wouldn’t lunge for her if she stumbled.
‘Problem?’ he drawled.
‘Of course there’s a problem. There’s only one bed. If you expect me to sleep on the floor or hang upside down like some bat, you’ve got another think coming.’
‘While I would pay good money to see you indeed hang upside down, that’s not what I had in mind.’
‘Good because this is starting off like a horribly clichéd romance movie that is only destined to get worse.’
She stopped in her tracks, her face reddening as the words left her lips. Within his own body, he also experienced an unnerving reaction. ‘You can rest easy as there’s no possibility of that,’ he said firmly to counter said sensation.
She blinked once then hastily stepped back. He didn’t know whether it was in reaction to his words, or a residual counteract to whatever was charging the air between them.
‘That’s a relief because that was the farthest thing from my mind.’
He noted her eyes remained wide as she blinked again and then gestured around. ‘So where exactly am I supposed to sleep?’
Dropping his arms he pointed to the wide sectional sofa that dissected the living area from the kitchen. ‘That turns into a perfectly adequate sofa bed. You’ll have more than enough room.’
Expecting another outburst, he saw something flicker in her eyes before she veiled them. Curbing the punch of curiosity, he shrugged off his coat. Walked away to hang it in the closet.
‘Now that the question of bedding is settled, we need to go over a few ground rules.’
‘Stop.’
He turned, eyes narrowing. But before he could speak, she took a step toward him, her gaze once again bold, and spirited. Valenti hated the loosening of clenched muscles that felt absurdly like relief because she was no longer freezing him out.
It was so much worse than she’d thought.
He was revered royalty. Second in line to the throne of Cartana.
Surely, she hadn’t been ludicrous in thinking the cabin he’d referred to would be more substantial than one, granted large, room with a well-stocked kitchen, a short corridor leading to a small office, and wooden stairs leading to the one and only bedroom and bathroom?
Hell, she could sprint from one end of the structure to the other in three seconds flat.
‘This is… I can’t…’ She stopped, scrambled for her composure. ‘Look, this isn’t going to work.’
‘Too bad,’ he bit out with zero mercy.
Gritting her teeth, she prayed for calm and tried again. ‘I will stay here, on one condition.’
He went very still, in the way that completely disarmed her, made her very much aware not just of the deadly predator he was but how much of a prey she was. How he could easily overwhelm her with just his silence.
She’d heard enough rumours of Valenti’s background, and what Helga had divulged in the far too few occasions her sister had had time to spare from her busy life.
Lotte knew he’d been in a special branch of the Cartana military, the part not spoken out loud in social gatherings.
She knew that scar slashing his right eyebrow had come from being injured in one of those clandestine missions.