“Truly, Brother,” Andrew says. “This is ridiculous, even for you.”

“And you’re being a bit of a twat, even for you.” I didn’t know quite what I was going to say to my brother when he arrived, but now that he’s here—now that he’s opened his mouth—I find the words coming easily. “Did you have to be so bloody rude to her?”

He doesn’t even blink. “I didn’t say a word to her.”

“But you certainly intended for her to hear everything you said.”

“Really, Brother, there are far more important things to discuss right now.”

Andrew looks so much like our father when he frowns. He looks so much like our father in general—and he so often does exactly what our father would do—that sometimes I have trouble separating my feelings for the two.

“Well?” I say, spreading my arms. “Have at me, then. Lecture me as you were sent here to do. Drag me back to Montovia by my ears if you feel it’s necessary.”

Andrew’s frown deepens. “Even now you refuse to take this seriously.”

“As you can see, I’m alive. The clinic is still standing. The new doctor has arrived safely. From where I’m standing, everything is well.”

“And this is why we can’t trust you with anything,” he counters. “You claim everything is well, but from what I’ve seen, that’s the furthest thing from the truth. You’ve only been here three days, and somehow you’ve managed to hurt yourself so badly that you had Matthias calling us in tears. And I suspect you’ve spent more time entertaining yourself in bed than you have looking at the financial statements in the clinic. I hope for your sake that woman at least smelled better than the fellow who escorted me up to this room—”

“Lecture me all you want,” I say, my hands curling into fists. “But leave Elle out of this.” It’s taking my entire effort to keep my temper in check.

Andrew’s nose wrinkles. “Elle? As in Eleanor Parker?” He shakes his head. “My God, Leopold, that was the doctor?”

My head throbs. “You’ve always criticized me for chasing airheads. I’d have thought you’d be happy to see me with a doctor.”

“You were sent here to investigate her clinic, not her body.”

“As much as I’m sure you’d love to give me your thoughts on the matter,” I say, sinking onto the bed, “Didn’t our father send you here to lecture me about my injury, not my sexual choices? And while we’re on that—I haven’t had anything to eat yet today, and I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded. If you intend to spend the next several hours telling me how disappointed you are, I’d appreciate it if you found me some breakfast first. Unless you want to explain to our father why I wasted away from hunger.”

“This isn’t a joke, Leopold.”

If I weren’t treating it like one, my fist would have already connected with his face. It’s the only way for me to keep my temper under control—and to keep Andrew’s focus off of Elle.

“On the contrary,” I tell him. “This is the most incredible joke. The fact he sent you of all people after me when you are the very reason I’m here—”

“He sent me after you because I understand the responsibilities of a prince of Montovia. You might not be next in line for the throne, Leopold, but you still have duties to uphold. Your actions affect the reputation of the entire family—the reputation of the entire country. This was your chance to make things right. To redeem yourself in the eyes of our country and the international media. Instead, you treat this place like another one of your clubs. Frankly, it’s a miracle the paparazzi haven’t already—”

“Wait a minute,” I say. “You’re speaking as if it’s my fault I’m here in the first place.” Sure, I’ve been blaming myself for everything that happened…but at the same time, I thought he was quietly blaming himself, too.

Andrew clasps his hands behind his back. “Before you were even eighteen, you had a reputation as a troublemaker and partier. I thought your tendencies would temper with age, but instead, it appears you’ve gone the other direction. Your privileged role in this world comes with duties, Leopold. Just because you aren’t next in line for the throne doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like. At some point, you need to grow up and take responsibility for what you’ve done.”

I rise to my feet again. “Just as you’ve taken responsibility for that night in Prague?”

Andrew visibly stiffens. He’s deftly avoided my other subtle references to what I did for him, but he can’t avoid a direct question. And I’ll take whatever ground I can get.

“Yes, on the outside, you may be the more responsible one,” I say, taking a step toward him. “But we both know the truth, even if you’d prefer to stand here and pretend that night never happened. I might not be particularly responsible or dutiful, but at least I’m not a hypocrite. The world knows exactly what they’re getting with me. They don’t have to respect me or like me, but at least I’m being honest.”

I might have thrown my brother off-balance for a moment, but by the time I’m done speaking, his eyes have gone hard and cold again. Hard, cold Andrew—I swear the man has no emotion whatsoever. He’s spent his entire life trying to live up to his role, bottling up everything beneath his intense, dutiful exterior. The fellow needs to get laid—the sooner, the better.

“I’m not here to debate your opinions on responsibility and honesty,” he says. “I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any more trouble for yourself or our family. You can take up the rest with our father when we get back home. We’ll leave as soon as you and Matthias can be ready.”

Leave? I suppose I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t. “There are still things to be done here.”

“And it is clear you haven’t the discipline to actually do them. One of the medical board members arrived with me. He’s on his way to the clinic to get a better understanding of the situation.”

“I’m not going back to Montovia,” I say. “Not yet.” Through the haze of everything else, I can only think of one thing—Elle. I need to find her. Apologize for my brother. Explain what’s going on. I have no idea what must be running through her head right now, but it can’t be good.

“I’m afraid you have no say in the matter,” Andrew says. “I’m under strict orders to have you on your plane immediately. Our parents want your injury assessed by one of our family physicians as soon as possible. I’m to stay behind for a few days and see what must be done here, but then I’ll be following shortly in my own jet.”

“I’m not going,” I tell him again. “And my injury is perfectly fine. Whatever you might think of Elle, she’s a damn fine doctor.”

“I don’t care if she’s the best damn doctor in the world. You will be on that jet within the hour. This is not a request, Leopold.”

My brother’s a fool if he thinks I’m going to take orders from him.

“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’ll go back if that’s what you want. But the moment the plane sets down, I’m going straight to our father and explaining what actually happened that night in Prague.”

It’s a petty threat to make, but it’s the only weapon I have against my brother—and it works. I’m used to being the irresponsible one, the troublemaker, the bad boy. I can bear the judgment of our family and the rest of the world. But Andrew… To Andrew, reputation is everything. He lives for his role in this world—it’s his entire reason for existing. When we were younger, I saw another side of him. He was still the responsible older brother, but there was a mischievous streak to him, too. He was fiercely intelligent—he always aced the tests our tutors gave us, while I struggled just to pay attention—but he was also loyal and generous. I know those parts of him are still there, buried deep down inside. I know he isn’t the emotionless shell of a man he pretends to be these days—hell, it’s why I dragged him out that night in the first place. To help him forget for a moment the man he thinks he’s supposed to be and to help him remember the man he is.

But it’s the shell standing here now. The upright, uptight, dutiful Andrew whose face has darkened in response to my threat.

“You might not care about your own reputation,” he says, his voice emotionless and cold, “and you might not even care about mine. But it’s time you learned your actions have consequences, Brother. That they affect more than you and me. If you are not on that plane within the hour, or if you breathe one word to our father when you get home, I will let the entire world know about the sexual indiscretions of Doctor Elle Parker while she served at our clinic. And I will personally ensure she never works in the medical field again.”

My jaw tightens. I was prepared for Andrew to make threats against me—not Elle. My stomach twists into a knot. I have no doubt Andrew will make good on his threat if necessary, and I know how much Elle’s work means to her. For her to lose that because of me… I’m not sure I could endure such a thing.

Damned conscience.

Part of me wants to lunge forward and punch the smug look right off of Andrew’s face. But I know that won’t solve anything—and it might only make things worse for Elle. After last night, I find myself feeling rather protective of her.

You’ve made things complicated enough for her already, I tell myself. Don’t make her deal with your brother, too.

So I straighten my shoulders, forcing myself to unclench my hands.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll continue to keep your little secret. You know it’s going to come out eventually, with or without my help.”

His mouth is a hard line. “And I will deal with it then. Today, my only assignment is to make sure you are on your plane as soon as possible.”

I try not to roll my eyes at him. One day Andrew is going to wake up and realize there’s more to life than following the rules, but unfortunately for me, I don’t think today is that day.

“I’ll go tell Matthias to prepare for an immediate departure,” I say flatly.

“Good.” My brother’s face doesn’t betray a hint of emotion. “I’m going down to the clinic to make sure you haven’t caused any irreversible damage there. I’ll see you off at the tarmac in one hour’s time.”

I throw silent curses at his back as he turns and walks out of the room. I hate that he’s forced me into this corner.

I hate that I’m thinking of a woman’s interests above my own. Having a sense of morality is bloody inconvenient, and I don’t like it.

When my brother’s footsteps have disappeared down the stairs, I take a deep breath. I hate to end this thing with Elle so soon, but perhaps I can still convince her to meet me in Beverly Hills sometime in the near future. I have a feeling she’s going to remain under my skin even when I leave this place—and I have no intention of letting her slip through my fingers, Andrew’s threats be damned. She and I would have to be discrete about our meetings, of course, but I think we can manage that.

First, though, I have to get her to agree to see me again. After the things Andrew said while she was still within earshot, I suspect I’m going to have to apologize profusely on my brother’s behalf.

I stride out of the room. I hope she didn’t go far—and I hope she didn’t cross paths with Andrew on his way to the clinic. I want to pull her into my arms once more before I go, feel her soft body mold against mine. I want to breathe in her scent and run my fingers through her hair. God—I’m half hard just thinking about it. My entire body vibrates with desire for her. I still don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted a woman like this.

And Andrew had to show up here and ruin it all. Bloody bastard.

I find Owen in the main room downstairs.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me which direction your sister has gone?” I ask him.

He looks at me with bloodshot eyes. “I don’t know if I should tell you, man.”

“Of course you should,” I say.

He shrugs. “I don’t know what all you did, dude, but she seemed pretty pissed at you.”

“And I’d like to apologize for that. For the way my brother treated her.” I can hear the impatience creeping into my tone.

“I’ll tell her you’re sorry,” he says.

“I’d prefer to tell her myself.”

“Sorry, dude. I’m afraid you can’t.”

I bite back a curse. “I assure you, Owen, I don’t want to upset her. I only want to apologize and—”

“No, I mean you can’t, man. She’s already left.”

My stomach tightens. “Left? To go where?”

“Home. Where else? The bus left ten minutes ago.”

The bus…

“Where was the bus going? Into Santa Rosa?”

“Yeah,” he says. “But look, dude. Just let her go. She’s been through a lot, man.”

I’m beginning to see that, but it doesn’t keep me from feeling a sharp sense of betrayal. I thought I’d have the chance to apologize before I left. The chance to convince her to meet me again. Or, at the very least, the chance to kiss her one last time. The chance to say goodbye.

You can go after her, I tell myself. I could probably convince Matthias to loan me the car.

But considering she ran off without telling me farewell, I have a feeling she won’t exactly be happy to see me again so soon. And should Andrew find out I went after her…well, it would only make the matter worse. He’d track me down easily. And then probably tie me to my jet to make sure I left the country on schedule.

Is this it, then? Have I seen Elle for the last time?

I know I shouldn’t be this worked up over a woman I’ve only known for a handful of days, but I still feel as if I’ve been punched in the stomach.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go. Elle and I were supposed to indulge in a few days of mind-blowing passion before we parted ways. I was supposed to get this out of my system. Now my body is tense with unspent desire. I’m agitated, restless.

And if I’m being completely honest, this isn’t simply about a missed opportunity for pleasure. I still find myself thinking about some of the things she said last night, still find myself remembering that deep vulnerability I saw in her eyes when she started to let her guard down. I was utterly entranced by it then, and the memory inspires a similar reaction.

I can’t let her go. I won’t.

I chew on my lip, pondering. Going after her in the car is still a terrible idea—I’d be lucky to have the chance to say two words to her before Andrew caught up with me. He’ll make sure I get on that plane no matter what.

After that, though…

Once my private jet is up in the air, I’m out of Andrew’s reach. I could go anywhere. Do anything. And it’s at least a fifteen-hour flight to Montovia, meaning I would have some time before Andrew or my father realized my jet was going the wrong direction.

The more I think about it, the more I like this plan. I won’t try to catch up to Elle in Santa Rosa. No, I’ll go right to her home. Meet her there. That would also give her a little time to cool off, making her much more receptive to my suggestions about how she and I might continue what we’ve started.

You’re mad, I tell myself. You’re losing your head over this woman. But it doesn’t matter how many times I say it to myself—I don’t care. Maybe Elle was right—maybe this is an addiction.

Of course, it doesn’t solve the issue of Andrew’s threats against Elle—no doubt he’ll try to make good on them the moment he realizes I haven’t gone back to Montovia—but I have a little time to come up with a solution for that. Or to come up with a few more threats for Andrew.

The more I think about it, the better I feel. I refuse to submit to my brother’s power games. He won’t win—not this time.

Nothing will keep me from what I want—and right now, I want Elle.

* * *