Chapter 34

“Then you’re very wise.” Dimitri waved at the server, then turned to Lauren, fighting hard not to let her see the intensity of his gaze. “There are many beautiful places by the sea you should visit.”

“Well, I’d want to see every one of them.” Her full lips twisted, and he did his best not to stare at them. “I actually thought about focusing my work on something to do with resort cities, beachside hamlets—something. But the tourism market is already played out. Starting something new in that sector would take someone with a lot more experience than I have.”

“Experience means nothing in the face of passion.” Dimitri shrugged. “You want something, you do it. You should know that more than anyone. I cannot think you have let anything stand in your way for long, with the life you lead?”

He watched her closely as she tilted her head and laughed. There, it was happening again. A precision to her movements and words since he’d started asking her questions about the future. She didn’t believe she would have a future, at least not one that didn’t involve the threat of Smithson if she should ever be alone. Which meant she was still running scared.

She hadn’t been precise when he’d been with her at the beach last night. Or when she’d been in his arms in his room today. She’d been lopsided and messy and glorious, the abandon with which she’d thrown herself into him a marvel to see. He yearned to see that expression on her face again, or perhaps the casual confidence and open-eyed wonder he’d seen when she was at the cove, pushing her way through all the hanging items of ocean debris. It was as if she was on vacation from her own life, but she would never admit that her life was one she needed to escape. No one was more aware than Lauren Grant of exactly how lucky Lauren Grant was.

But how lucky was anyone when they couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t include working in some godforsaken office somewhere, always in the center of a crowd, if only to avoid a bogeyman that no one else feared? That was no way to exist.

The silence between them had apparently gone on too long, so she went on the offensive. Something else she did with grace and precision, and long years of practice, he suspected. “What about you? You’ll be heading back into service, won’t you, once your babysitting detail is over?”

He lifted both brows. “I wouldn’t call what I’ve done here babysitting.”

“You know what I mean.” She smiled. Perfectly. “What is your next assignment, or whatever—or is your military more of a reactionary model, called into action only if needed?”

“There is always a need, whether on our own borders or for our allies.” Dimitri shook his head. “We’ve had trouble with insurgents from Turkey of late, but that’s nothing new. Refugees are a constant challenge for a country of our size and limited resources as well. There is a fine line between humanitarian aid and being overrun. So I’ll review the status of our current military outposts, and see what needs are greatest. Cyril may have assignments in the works as well. He usually does.” He eyed her. “There’s also already talk of how to protect Emmaline when she returns to the US.”

“If she returns.” Lauren’s smile was wistful for the barest moment before she modulated it again. “Who’s to say Kristos won’t marry her before the week is out?”

“The queen, for one.” Dimitri grimaced. “She’s obsessed with Emmaline’s musical abilities, and if I know the woman at all, she will not rest until she sees her officially installed in an American orchestra. Emmaline seems to think that will require additional schooling?” Lauren nodded, and he curled his lip. “You Americans should do more without asking.”

She laughed. “The music program she got into is very prestigious! She would learn a lot and get back into the practice of playing on a regular basis. And be near her family. Nearer, anyway.”

Dimitri nodded. “The queen thought the same. But where Emmaline goes, Kristos will want to follow, and that gets more complicated. So there are decisions to be made there.”

“Uh-huh.” Lauren eyed him with speculation. “Queen Catherine isn’t considering the possibility that their infatuation will play out, is she? Because I know Emmaline pretty well. And I don’t see that happening.”

“No one’s more dedicated to romance than Queen Catherine, or enamored of the idea of a royal wedding within the next year.” Dimitri grimaced. “But she’s also fully aware that decisions made in haste must be lived with for a time to ensure that they are the right course. So anything that builds time into the equation for Kristos and Emmaline, she will embrace.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Lauren sat back, her eyes alight with mischief that for once wasn’t carefully vetted. “Kristos in America would certainly cause a stir.”

“Not only him.” Dimitri shook his head. “He’d have a security detail—and not me.” He cut her off before she asked the obvious question. “Someone has to actually be the military, not simply talk about it.”

“Uh-huh.” Her laughter was once again sincere, direct and refreshing. “And your dedication to home and country has nothing to do with your desire to stay close to the ongoing investigation into Ari’s disappearance, I’m sure.”

“I will, of course, be on hand for however the Crown needs me.” He kept the words light, but he didn’t miss Lauren’s use of the word disappearance instead of death. He wasn’t sure when she’d changed her characterization of Ari’s plane crash, or if she was conscious of it. But he appreciated it no matter how it came to be.

Now she was looking at him with open frankness. “Is there really a chance? In all truth? For Ari to be alive after so long?”

Dimitri blew out a long breath. “In all truth? There’s very little chance,” he said. The words, so long unspoken, didn’t hurt him as much as he thought they would. “Ari was as fiercely loyal to his family and country as any man ever was. He wouldn’t rest but would be struggling to return. Where there is struggle, there is always a story.” He shook his head. “There have been no stories about a man fighting to find his way home.”

“There’ve been no stories about one dying in a fiery wreck either,” Lauren said, her words staunch.

“And that’s why my hope remains alive,” Dimitri conceded. “Finding evidence of Ari’s death will reopen the wound, yes. But it will be able to heal more cleanly then. And finding evidence of his life...” He spread his hands. “It would change everything.”

“But how?” Lauren frowned, a new worry suddenly clouding her eyes. “If Ari returns, what happens to Kristos? Does that mean he’s no longer the crown prince?”

Dimitri grinned. He’d wondered when or if that possibility would hit Lauren, with her tendency to want to stay in control of every life she came into contact with, most especially her friends’. “That’s why we have councils and chief advisors, princess,” he said. “All that is important is life and love. Kristos and Emmaline have both. Whether he is the head of the military or the head of the royal family, do you truly think she’ll mind?”

Lauren’s eyes flared, and Dimitri felt something hard shift in his chest, not a good feeling. “No-oo,” Lauren said at length, and then she smiled one of her practiced smiles. “She wouldn’t.”

But Dimitri knew the truth. Emmaline wouldn’t, not for a moment. Kristos would be a prince to her whether he was shoveling rocks for the Crown or attending gala parties dressed in his military finest, as long as she could be by his side. But Lauren was a different story. Lauren had spent her entire life categorizing people, judging them, putting them into boxes based upon their parents, the amount of money they had, their position in society. To her, it would matter.

Which meant he needed to end this farce between them before it became any more awkward for either of them.

He straightened, suddenly irritated, impatient, and desperate to move again, but he was too late. Lauren lifted a hand, her gaze trapping his. “Dimitri—wait.”

He waited, not willing to give her any quarter. If she had questions to ask, she could damn well ask them herself. At his stubborn silence, her cheeks flared a soft pink beneath her new tan, and her eyes shifted slightly. Going harder, more resolute. This woman shifted more swiftly than stormclouds in springtime, and Dimitri knew in that moment he wanted to be there for every pivot, every fresh tack.

He was a fool.

“Okay, we’ll do this your way too,” Lauren said. She leaned forward as he blinked, recalling his words from just a few short hours before. “You’re a demigod.” Her words were low, flat, and unhurried. “What does that mean? In short, simple words your basic twenty-first century mortal can understand? And before you think about saying something stupid or flip, know that I’m not willingly moving from this table until you tell me. I will scream, I will burst into tears, I will create a story that will last however long your lifetime is. So talk and put us both out of our misery.”

Dimitri curled his lip, but her bald address of the question between them was probably for the best. It didn’t mean he had to like it. “I’m a demigod, descended of Zeus.” He watched the questions surge in her eyes and felt marginal relief as she lashed down her curiosity. Lauren Grant knew when to keep quiet in an interrogation, he’d give her that.

“Not all descendants qualify,” he explained further. “It takes a certain mix of genetics. But I had that mix, and that meant I had two potential life paths before me. I could take the advantage of my distant parentage and live a life of strength and agility, power and health, abundance—all the rest. Or I could go further. I could take on the mantle of protection for the Crown of O?ros, and serve their needs. If I chose to do that, I would have everything that any ordinary descendent with my genetic makeup had—just more of it. More strength, more vitality, keener eyesight and hearing, stronger intuition, longer life. At the age of twenty, I was given a choice.”

“So young,” she murmured, but the way she was staring at him, he didn’t think she realized she’d spoken.

He shrugged. “I’d served two years in the military by then. I was old enough to know where my heart and loyalties rested. I was ready to serve my king and country, and to accept the challenge. That was sixty years ago.”

“Sixty!” Lauren’s beautiful eyes flared wide, and he could see the calculation in them, the assessments, arguments and rejection of said arguments, the realization...and the dismay. Another wave of anger swamped him.

“Sixty,” he agreed. “For every ten years of a mortal’s life, I age one, and will until I am killed in service to the Crown or eventually die a normal death many, many decades from now. And now you know everything you need to.”

He leaned forward again, his urgency to move returning. “Do you have anything back at the villa that you need, should we have to leave quickly?”

She blinked at him, whether at the sudden shift in his question or in his tone. But she recovered a moment later, the smile she offered him gracious, carefully even. Once again protecting herself, he thought. But from what? He was no threat to her. And he damned well would protect her from Henry. She had to still know that—even if she now regarded him as some sort of freak.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m, ah, happy to go clean up your place, though. I kind of left it a mess?—”

He cut off her words with a lifted hand. “There’s no need for that.” He wouldn’t mind his villa filled with small remembrances of the American, for a few days anyway. He didn’t want to consider the reasons why too closely, but then again, he didn’t have to. “I’ll check in with Cyril and see about that boat.”

As he pulled out his phone, she pushed back her chair. “There are restrooms here, yes?” she asked, her expression grateful as he pointed to the far corner of the restaurant. “Great. I’ll be right back.”

He watched her go for a moment, memorizing her walk, her grace, the swing of her hips. He would have an unusually long lifetime to revisit those images after she left him for good, so he needed all he could tuck away.

Get a hold of yourself.Growling, he punched the buttons on the phone and turned once more toward the sea.