Their Virgin Mistress, Page 26

  Alea leaned forward. “The whole time she was talking about what she’d done, you were getting up. I kept her attention on me because I didn’t want her to see that you still had so much strength.”

  He didn’t remember that at all. He shook his head because her words didn’t make any sense. “I was on the floor over there.”

  He pointed to a spot on the other side of the room.

  “That’s where you ended up, but that’s not where you fell. You fell ten feet that way.” She nodded to a place in front of the sofa. “If you look at the crime scene photos, you’ll see a large pool of blood there. It’s yours. I’m sure Tal has them buried somewhere in the records. She shot you the first time right there. You went down, but you didn’t stay there.”

  He stared at the spot, reality shifting deep inside him. The scenario Alea described didn’t match his memories. He remembered being weak and helpless and soft. He hadn’t fought. He’d just lain there and waited to die like some hapless prey. “How did I end up on the opposite side of the room?”

  Alea took his hand in hers. “You ended up there because you got to your feet and you attacked her. She was busy threatening me. It would have been easy for you to get to the door. At that point, you only had one bullet in your body. That wound wasn’t life-threatening. The second shot was. You could have left me and saved yourself, but you didn’t. You got to your feet, told her she wasn’t getting away with it, and you wrapped your hands around her throat.”

  Her words sparked some memory in the haze of that day. Some little whisper that told him Alea was telling him the truth he’d forgotten in the thickness of shock and pain.

  I disagree, bitch.

  That day was beginning to come back to him. “She said she wasn’t going down for your abduction or my death. She intended to blame everything on you and me.”

  She said those things and he’d replied with I disagree, bitch. He remembered his mouth making the words. He’d had to force them from his throat.

  Alea nodded excitedly. “Yes. She did and I tried to keep her attention on me so you could make your move.”

  “You didn’t think I would run?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t. The minute I saw you forcing yourself up, I knew you would fight her. And you did. You’re the reason I made it to the balcony. You’re the reason I’m alive today, Oliver.” There was a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I know you came here, at least in part, because you had some misguided notion that you should apologize to me. There’s no need, but there is something left unsaid between us. Thank you. Thank you for being as strong as you were. Thank you for fighting.”

  Memories like flashes of lightning sparked through him as more of the terrible incident came back to him. He stood suddenly because the world blurred. Shock steamrolled him. “Thank you for coming. I need to be alone for a bit.”

  He knew he was being terribly rude, but he couldn’t help it. A dam was about to open, and he couldn’t contain it another second.

  As she hurried to leave, he shut the door between the parlor and the bedroom. It seemed like forever before he reached the bathroom. He locked himself in and fell to the floor, cool marble beneath his hands.

  He’d been wrong. For the last several years, he had been about deriding himself for his weakness, for his inability to fight, but now the day came back with righteous clarity, like a dream he’d forgotten but that lay beneath the surface of his consciousness. He remembered how hard it had been to stand that day and fend off his own wife. His legs hadn’t wanted to work, but he’d forced them to. It flooded back, the sights, the sounds, her voice. The pain. And the rage. It had pooled and boiled inside him. He’d been a volcano of fury. But above the anger, there had been something else. He’d been dying and he’d refused to let Alea die, too.

  As much as he’d hated his wife, it had been the thought of an innocent woman—his friend—dying that forced him to his feet.

  He hadn’t been weak after all. He’d made a choice, so he’d fought. And he’d won. Now he knew the truth: When his world had shattered, when death had been whispering along his spine, he’d told it to go to hell. He’d tried to do the right thing even at the cost of his own life.

  He rested his cheek against the floor, the shock of revelation bringing him full circle. He was once again on the floor, his body weak with memory, but now there was a difference.

  Oliver Thurston-Hughes knew he would get up again. He would fight.

  His father had told him once that a man didn’t know the sum of his soul until he faced death. He hadn’t been measured and found wanting after all. He’d fought for himself and for Alea. He’d only survived since because he hadn’t really decided to start living again.

  That changed now.

  When he got to his feet, he felt like a different human being. Some weight had been lifted, and for the first time since that terrible day, he could look at himself in the mirror with pride.

  He’d fought. He was a fighter.

  And now he had something worth fighting for.

  Tori.

  He washed his face and calmed, some peace and confidence settling deep inside him. The trouble was, he didn’t just have to fight for Tori. He had to get around Talib and all those doors she’d locked between them.

  Luckily, he knew a little bit about being a sneaky bastard.

  Once he’d been a man who knew how to get what he wanted. He wanted Tori Glen. She would be his prize for fighting and coming out victorious. For finally moving on.

  He straightened his shirt and walked back into the parlor. Alea was standing at the door, talking to her husband. Ah, his guard. The first hurdle. He knew how to handle the guard.

  “I need to speak to my brothers,” he said politely. He never yelled when politeness would work.

  Landon Nix frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to keep you in here until it’s time for your plane to depart. It’s only a few hours. Do you need something?”

  He glanced Alea’s way. “Please. I won’t try to speak to Tori. I simply need to be with my brothers. Talking about that day…” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I need their company.”

  She took his hand and started down the hall.

  Lan cursed and followed, but he didn’t try to stop them again.

  All the while, Oliver’s brain churned, his heart hammering because he had the solution—and it was so simple. Tori had done them the favor of coming to the palace. Oliver intended to use that in order to help her past her pride and facilitate the ending that would make them all happy.

  They were in Bezakistan, and the rules were different here. Tori really should have remembered that. Likely, she’d thought he and his brothers were polite Brits. But Oliver had been married to a Bezakistani national, so they’d granted him dual citizenship. That made him Bezakistani, too.

  He had rights here that sweet Tori might not be aware of. He doubted she would believe he’d ever exercise them. But oh, he intended to.

  She would belong to him and his brothers again because they would take her—with Talib’s blessing. Because the sheikh would never violate or refuse the laws of his own country.

  Lan opened the door to Callum and Rory’s suite.

  Alea hugged him. “I hope you find some peace, Oliver. I know it didn’t work with Tori, but there’s a woman out there for someone as kind as you.”

  He schooled his expression into something suitably bland. He needed to play the pathetic, depressed Oliver for a few minutes more because he didn’t want to tip anyone off about his plans…just in case.

  “I hope you’re right.” He managed a broken murmur.

  Alea kissed his cheek as though he was fragile and promised to call. Then she left, and he was alone with his brothers.

  “I know you’re upset with Tori, but you have to listen, Ollie.” Callum came at him, pure willpower shining in his eyes.

  Why had he ever thought his brother was laidback? Callum was only laidback when he didn’t care. When something mattered, he pursu
ed what he wanted with a singular purpose.

  “No, I need you to sit down.”

  Callum clenched his jaw. “I’m not going to listen to reasons why we should leave her and walk away from Tori. I’m going to Dallas. That’s where she’ll be.”

  “I’m going with him.” Rory nodded, his decision made.

  Thank god. He’d thought he might have to convince his youngest brother that Tori was the woman for them, but it looked like Callum had done that job. “None of us are going to Dallas.”

  His brothers began to argue.

  “Stop! We’re not going to Dallas because Tori won’t be there. She’ll be on that bloody plane to London with us. How much rope do we have? And dear god, tell me we have some sort of gag because I don’t think she’ll go quietly.”

  Callum’s jaw dropped. It was good to know he could surprise his brother. “What the hell are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I’m a Bezakistani citizen and I have rights in this country. We’re not going to Dallas on our hands and knees. We’re not going to beg. Tori chose to hide in Bezakistan and I’m going to claim my right. Brothers, we’re going to steal our bride.”

  * * * *

  Tori looked out over the gardens and wondered if the three brothers were on their plane back to London yet.

  Her heart ached at the thought. She would never see them again. Never touch or hold them or even talk to them. Their chats had always been the best part of her day. She’d loved working at Thurston-Hughes. The dynamic environment meant there’d always been something happening, and she’d enjoyed the challenge of dealing with the British press.

  Except when the press was after her. She stared out into the night and tried to tell herself she’d done the right thing. She couldn’t handle being the center of attention. She couldn’t handle their high-profile lives. There was a cost that came with the money and fame. She didn’t mind the money, but she loathed the fame. She wanted a quiet life. They couldn’t give it to her.

  And she couldn’t give them what they deserved. She couldn’t give them a whole heart because she was too afraid.

  “How are you?” Piper asked as she walked out onto the balcony.

  At least her sister was still talking to her. She was fairly certain Talib wasn’t. When she’d asked him to send the Thurston-Hughes brothers home, he’d become frustrated with her, pushing her to tell him what had really happened. She’d cried until he’d given in but she could tell he’d been deeply disappointed in her.

  “I’m fine. I’m ready to head home.” Her bags were packed. She’d leave for Texas in the morning mere hours after the best men that ever happened to her got the boot from the country. She wondered if they hated her now.

  “Is it really home? I’m not there. You don’t have any friends in Dallas, do you? So why is it home?” Piper seemed to feel the need to ask her hard questions today.

  But her sister was right. Dallas wasn’t home. Tori wasn’t even sure she had one. Home was where the people you loved live.

  God, home was England, and she would never go back.

  “I’m going to make it my home.” Tears threatened, but if she showed Piper a single sign of regret, her sage sister would be all over it.

  “Tell me why you sent them away. And I swear I will scream if you tell me that they meant nothing to you beyond sex and you’re over them.”

  At least she could answer this one. “It wouldn’t work. It was good for a night, but it can’t work long term.”

  “Why not? It works for me.”

  Tori sighed. “But that’s the norm here. The law. Not so much in London.”

  “You didn’t even try to make it work,” Piper pointed out.

  She fisted her hands at her sides. “I don’t have to try. I’ve watched those men for the last six months. They can’t share, not long term. They fight too much. Last night was a moment out of time. It was great…but it wasn’t reality. I know you think I’m making a mistake, but I believe everyone going their separate ways is the right thing. London just isn’t like here. You saw how the press tore me apart for falling down the stairs. Can you imagine what they’ll do if we actually got married?”

  “Every marriage has its issues. You won’t ever have to worry about money. And don’t discount the beauty of that. You’ll have every need met. Is there a tradeoff for that? Yes.” Her sister leaned against the banister. “But I think you have a skewed view of the world. I’m kind of shocked that I never saw it before. You’re very good at hiding it.”

  “I have a realistic view of the world, Piper. I live out in it. You’re the one who’s sheltered.” She lived in a palace surrounded by guards and loving husbands.

  Piper’s lips turned up. “Am I? Do you know what I did two weeks ago?”

  “I’m sure it was fabulous.”

  “I visited the border. We have refugees streaming in from the Middle East and we have to figure out how to house them and feed them because we can’t turn them away.”

  The border was dangerous. Though Bezakistan had some cushion from the fighting happening all over the Middle East, it was still dangerous for anyone, let alone a royal. “Did Tal know? He would never let you go in there. Is that why there wasn’t any press?”

  “There wasn’t any press because it wasn’t a photo op,” her sister said firmly. “It was an intelligence-gathering mission. I can’t know what they need unless I talk to them myself and they can’t know that the sheikh and I care unless we walk in, hand in hand, and show them. Talib understands that I won’t be a figurehead who only poses and looks pretty and gives birth every now and then. He, Rafe, and Kade picked me and they can’t change me. I’m going to do what I can to help my people.”

  “Piper, you could have been killed.” The thought brought tears to her eyes.

  Piper wiped them away with a tender swipe of her fingers. “It’s good to know you care, but I’m going back in a few days. I’m helping to build temporary shelters. I won’t leave those displaced people to the butchers of this world and I won’t turn them away because they weren’t born here. They’ve survived so much. I think I’m more scared when my husbands go than I am for myself.”

  “Yes, because you would be devastated if anything happened.” And yet her brothers-in-law wouldn’t hide and protect themselves. It went counter to who they were as human beings. Tori wanted to beg her sister to never go back, but she knew it wouldn’t work. Piper was who she was. If she believed in a cause, she wouldn’t back down, especially if someone needed her.

  Suddenly Tori’s life seemed the slightest bit shallow. She helped pretty people do pretty things and hide all the ugliness under the surface. She’d chosen a profession that masked the real issues of the world in glitter and glitz. “I understand why you didn’t take the press with you, but having a campaign around the refugees could bring light to their plight. It could do them good.”

  “I know. I have someone working on it.”

  “Why wouldn’t you ask me?” She was afraid she knew the answer.

  “I don’t know how you would handle walking through those camps. You hold yourself apart, and they need people who are open.”

  She did hold herself apart. Tori knew it now. She erected walls so she would stay safe.

  Piper risked her life for people she didn’t know. Tori wouldn’t even risk her heart for three men she loved.

  Love. She was starting to wonder if she even knew what the word meant.

  “I’ve put something in your suitcase,” her sister said. “After I packed up the old house, I sold it with all the furniture. I thought I’d cleaned out everything personal, but apparently I missed some nook in Dad’s office. It’s crazy but the people who bought the house have been trying to find me. Imagine their surprise when they discovered I was now a queen. Such a nice family. They could have sold those things to tabloids for a fortune, but they wanted us to have them. They sent me a box last month. I found Dad’s journal and two old photo albums. I want you to spend the next month stud
ying your childhood with adult eyes.”

  Her father had kept a journal. She knew that. She’d assumed it had been lost after he died. “I would love to read it. I don’t know how much time I’ll have though with moving and settling into a new job. I’ll try to read it before I come back for Sabir’s birthday.”

  Tori needed time and space to process things. Maybe in a few weeks she could write to one of the Thurston-Hughes brothers. Or all of them. Maybe they could find a friendship eventually. She couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing or talking to them again.

  Or never feeling their hands on her body, warm breath caressing her flesh.

  The night air suddenly seemed warmer than before and she wondered if she would spend the rest of her life longing for them.