I should have told them to take Leo. I had my chance, and I let it slip through my fingers. But my brain is so foggy now—three glasses of wine with no food in my stomach is making it difficult to make a good decision. Not that I make many of those, even when I’m not half-drunk.

His hands trail down my shoulders until he’s holding me by my upper arms. He tilts his head, forcing my gaze to his. “Tell me, Elle. What were you going to say?”

My lips curl into a forced smile. “I was going to say that we never had lunch. And I should probably eat something. I think I might have had a little too much wine.” At least that isn’t a lie—I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to pass a sobriety test if the police officers had decided to give me one.

His gaze narrows slightly. “Elle…” He pauses—I can tell he’s waiting for me to finish what I was about to say to him.

But I shake my head a little and squirm out from under his grasp, walking back into the kitchen. “I think peanut butter sandwiches would be the best thing under the circumstances. I’ll have to look at what exactly is in the kitchen later and maybe I can come up with something for dinner. Or maybe we can order a pizza if the damn reporters will let a delivery driver through.”

Leo sits down at the table and watches me pull the bread from the basket on the counter and a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard above it. I smile over at him. “Did you buy jelly, too? They didn’t have jam or jelly in Rio de Campo, so I always made do with plain peanut butter, but I didn’t mind. It was better than trying to—”

“Elle.” Leo has his hands tented together on the table, and a look of concern clouds his eyes. Add to that the way he’s dressed and it’s all pretty similar to the first day we met in the clinic. Right before he almost accused me of misappropriating funds.

I force a smile and return to making the sandwiches, but I don’t say anything to him. I know he wants to talk about it—what I almost said before the police came to the door. But he doesn’t need to know. No one needs to know. Especially Leo. Especially if he really does believe this is something more than a desperate measure or a distraction.

I glance over at him again—his gaze is still fixed on me. I know I’m going to have to do something to get him to forget about it—to forget I ever said anything. Because I shouldn’t have. The things that happened before I left here…they were bad. Everything went to hell in a hand basket before Owen and I left for Rio de Campo, but it all worked itself out. Mostly.

I set the sandwiches on plates and carry them over, taking a seat across from Leo at the table.

He takes his plate from my hand, frowning. “Elle.” It’s not really a question—the way he says my name is more like he wants me to finish the sentence.

But I plaster the same stupid smile on my face before I take a bite of my sandwich. I look up at him after I finish chewing. “This peanut butter is much better than what we had in Rio de Campo.” I motion to his still untouched sandwich. “You should try it.”

His head shakes slightly and his jaw tenses. His voice is lower, almost growling. “Elle.”

I take another bite of my sandwich, trying to ignore the very real anger I can hear in the tone of his voice.

He takes in a long breath—it almost seems like he’s trying to calm himself. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Elle, you need to finish telling me what you were going to say.”

My lips curl into another smile, though the effects of my phony happiness on him seem to have worn off. I start to panic a little—and I use the only thing I can think of to distract him. “I was thinking that after lunch, maybe we could try one of those things you were telling me about before. The other ways you have of impressing me. I imagine there are a few other positions we can try. You never did bend me over the counter the way you promised—”

He slams a palm down on the table, interrupting me. “Elle.” His eyes are wide and I can see something more than anger in them now—fear, maybe.

“Leo…” My voice trails off and I frown. I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t really tell him anything, though if I did, it would definitely make him want to leave without too much more of a fuss. I suppose if I had been honest with him from the beginning, I could have cut this off without so much drama. But it isn’t really my secret to tell.

Not that any of this really matters. On the one hand, if I tell Leo the truth, he’ll walk out—he’ll probably call the cops back to come and take him to his stupid embassy. And wasn’t that what I wanted a few minutes ago? I’m still not sure why I hesitated when the police were here. All I would have had to do was tell them that I had asked him to leave and request they escort him from my house. It would have been done and over within a few seconds—and it would have been humiliating for both of us, considering the number of cameras on the other side of my lawn. But it would have been over. I could have chalked this all up to another round of Elle’s poor judgment.

On the other hand, if I don’t tell him anything, there’s a chance no one will ever find out. There’s a possibility. A small one, granted—I know the media can be horrible to celebrities. They have no privacy, Leo included. I can’t imagine living like that. My life has been bad enough—and keeping secrets has almost killed me. The last thing I want is for any of this to get out. But I never saw this coming—I never believed there was any real possibility of me even meeting someone like Leo, let alone getting involved with him. I’ve seen plenty of celebrities since I’ve lived here—all I really have to do is walk a few blocks down to the Promenade and I can see more than I want to see. It’s almost a sport here—celebrity sightings. But the most anyone ever really gets from those sightings is an autograph or maybe a photo. They certainly don’t sleep with the famous people they meet. They don’t bring them to their house.

I look across at Leo as I take another bite of my sandwich. I’m pretty sure it’s too late for the bread to soak up any of the alcohol I so liberally downed a little while ago. And it’s probably a good thing, considering how Leo is almost glaring at me. I’m going to need that alcohol in my system to be able to handle this. I’ll need it to deal with the fact I’m running out of ways to deflect the questions in his eyes.

He finally shakes his head. “We’ll not leave this table until you tell me what it is you were going to say. If there is something you’re hiding—something that puts me in danger…”

“Danger.” I try not to snort. “You’re not in danger. Why would you think that?”

His brows knit together and he gives me another slow shake of his head. “Why did you ask about Owen?”

I shrug and take another bite of my sandwich. I chew for a long time, our gazes locked together. “Do you want some water? I really should have brought over something to drink. Peanut butter, you know—”

“Elle.” The word is clipped. Angry. “Tell me now.”

I sigh. “There’s nothing to tell. And if you’re really that worried about it, you should text your brother and send some of your family’s minions digging. That’s how it works, right?”

“How what works?”

“The whole entitlement thing. That’s what it means—you have a title, so you’re entitled. Even if you aren’t entitled to anything, really.”

He shakes his head again. “You’re not going to use your defense mechanisms this time. No more deflecting, Elle. I just want you to finish telling me what you were going to say.”

“But you already know enough. There’s already a long line of skeletons in my closet just waiting for the media out there to dig them up. I have no doubt they’ll have one of them on television by tonight, detailing every last thing I ever did.” I force another smile. “But we don’t have to turn on the TV. We can hang out here, and you can fuck me senseless again.”

“I see how this is. I…I see.”

“Good.” I smile again before taking another bite of my sandwich. I motion to his. “You should eat, too. We never did have breakfast. Or lunch. And I’m sure you’re going to need some energy if we’re going to keep pace with the standards we’ve set for ourselves—”

“Elle…” He shakes his head as his voice trails off. His fingers tent together on top of the table again. “You let men use you to avoid confrontation. Is that it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Leo.”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pauses for a moment. “What happened with Owen? There wasn’t…” An unmistakeable look of disgust clouds his expression. “…confrontation, was there?”

“Ew.” My lip curls up. “I’m sort of disgusted that you went there. He might as well be my brother. And the fact you could even think…”

“Stop.” He holds up a hand. “Might as well be?”

My mouth falls open when I realize I let that little secret out. But it really is a little secret in the grand scheme of things.

I shrug. “His father abandoned him with my mother. She raised us both.” My shoulders lift again. “It really isn’t a big deal. He is my brother. Step-brother, if we’re being technical.”

He blinks at me a few times. “I never did see the resemblance.”

I smile and nod. Maybe he’ll take that as the big revelation that I almost told him. Maybe he’ll drop it now and—

“And what were you going to tell me, Elle? What was it about Owen?”

Fuck, I guess he won’t be dropping it.

I fake another smile. “Nothing. Just that, you know, he’s lived with me since our mom died and people will probably find that weird. That’s all. No big deal. People are gross about stuff like that. Sort of like you were just now.”

“You’re lying.” He shakes his head. “I understand why you don’t trust me. I’ve given you very little reason to do so. But if you want me to help you—”

“I don’t want you to help me, Leo. Haven’t I made that pretty clear?”

“Indeed, you have.” He lets out a long breath and looks down at his sandwich before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “I’m beginning to understand what it is about you.”

“What what is about me?” I narrow my gaze. “What is it you’re trying to say, Leo?”

He finally lifts his sandwich and takes a bite. He stares at me the entire time he’s chewing. “I think I will take a glass of water if it isn’t too much trouble.”

I nod and go to the kitchen. I bring back a glass of water for each of us, sliding his across the table to him.

He takes another bite of his sandwich and washes it down with a long drink of water before meeting my gaze again. He stares at me for a long moment. “You use your body as a defense mechanism. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He nods. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Someone used you—you had a bad experience sometime in the past. We’ve all had them, Elle.”

“Hm. Even His Royal Highness?”

He lifts a brow. “Even me. But now you think you aren’t deserving of affection. Because you believe your body is—I don’t know. Tainted, perhaps.”

“Hm. I think you may have taken one too many psychology classes in college, Your Highness.”

He nods, but his expression is still blank. “You use your body now to get what you need. Not necessarily what you want—it’s just a form of protecting yourself.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’ve done the psychoanalysis already. Be sure to send me your bill.”

He tilts his head. “When our conversation became difficult, that was your first offer. You didn’t try to lie—not really. You avoided the questions and when that stopped working, you offered your body as some sort of sacrifice.”

“Well. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” I force another smile. “And my offer is off the table now, in case you were wondering.”

He doesn’t return my smile or offer me much in the way of anything other than a frown. “Elle, what happened with your brother? Did you do something?”

“No.”

“Then he did something. And you’re hiding it.”

I stare at him, saying nothing.

His gaze locks with mine for an uncomfortable moment. “And you’re willing to give your body to cover up whatever it is you’re hiding. Or whatever it is he’s hiding.”

My cheeks burn and my gaze drops to what’s left of my sandwich.

He nods again. “I see.”

“You see nothing, Your Highness.” I take a long drink from my glass—something needs to cool down the fire burning in my face.

Maybe I haven’t given Leo enough credit. Maybe he really did figure this out for himself—or perhaps he’s already had his minions digging up dirt on me. But there’s no way someone would be able to find anything out. Not unless they knew what they were looking for.

“Elle…” His voice trails off and he stares into his water glass. “If you really do want me to go, I’ll leave now.”

I lift my gaze to meet his. “I…” I don’t know what I want—not really. I don’t know what to do with myself around him. He’s not wrong about my body being tainted. He’s not wrong about anything—I just didn’t realize anyone would ever be able to see through me like this. I thought I had been doing a pretty good job of keeping those parts of myself covered up. Burying everything under my detachment and sarcasm. I never imagined I would meet anyone—ever—who would be able to see past any of it. But I also never thought I’d meet someone like Leo—someone who makes me come alive. Because I haven’t felt alive in a really long time.

“You…what, Elle?” He looks at me expectantly, carefully hiding whatever it is he’s feeling.

I wish I could read him. I need some way of knowing he isn’t like the rest of them. That he doesn’t mean to use me—that he won’t crush me the second I let my guard down. The past day with him is the closest I’ve been to being vulnerable in longer than I can remember. And he walked out on me this morning. I’m not sure I can trust his change of heart, if that’s even what it was. Nothing is saying he won’t have another.

And I’m not really sure if it’s my head or my heart that’s screaming, I don’t want you to leave. But I also can’t find the air to say the words out loud for some reason.

Unable to say anything, I stare at him.

His gaze never leaves mine and we’re silent for a long moment. He splays his hands flat on the table in front of him. “Elle. Whatever it is—it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is can’t be nearly as bad as you’ve told yourself it is.”

I nod, but not because I agree. It’s actually much worse than he can imagine and far more terrible than I want to remember.

“Believe me—I have some experience with these matters myself.” He gives me a small smile—almost like he really believes that he does know what he’s talking about. “If you’re covering for someone else—and you did whatever it was because it was the right thing to do—it isn’t your cross to bear, Elle.”

My gaze drops to my water again and I can’t bring myself to look up at him. It isn’t like he’s quite hit the nail on the head, but he isn’t too far off. What happened isn’t my cross to bear. But I can’t betray my brother.

He reaches across the table and pulls my hand into his. “But you do need to tell me what happened. Every detail.”

I shake my head and look up to meet his gaze. “I can’t.”

He clenches his teeth together and lets out a long breath. He shakes his head after he’s silent for another moment. “I see. Then perhaps you were right. Perhaps this isn’t worth the effort.”

* * *