“I have friends.”
“I doubt that very much. Pierce is not your friend if you treat him like this. Unless you make a change, you’ll have a very lonely life, Farah. All the money in the world won’t fix that.” She was aware of the younger woman’s astonishment and didn’t care. “Goodnight, Princess.” Jacquie turned and kept walking, feeling Farah looking after her.
“But this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”
Jacquie pivoted. “You mean this isn’t your plan, but I don’t care about your plan, just like you didn’t care about mine. See? That’s what happens when we aren’t friends.”
And she was done.
Jacquie’s feet were killing her but she didn’t care. She marched toward home, well aware that a certain princess watched her until she got to the end of the block. Then she heard an engine rev and the gold flash of a sports car raced past her, tires squealing as Farah took the corner too quickly.
Jacquie doubted she’d ever see the younger woman again, and that suited her just fine.
Her phone buzzed then, but it was a text from Maddy, wanting to know how the date was going. Jacquie guessed that she was intended to go to the ladies’ room and reply, but there was no need for subterfuge now.
Jacquie called to tell her daughter that things hadn’t worked out. Maddy’s outrage at Pierce’s disappearing act was sweet and reassuring, and Jacquie unlocked her apartment door feeling a lot better than when she’d left the restaurant.
Pierce Aston, though, could go to hell, along with his dangerous past and the royals who thought they could commandeer him anytime.
She needed to check that list and find a better candidate.
She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, acknowledging to herself that Pierce was the only one she wanted.
But Jacquie would get over that.
The last place Pierce wanted to be was in a secure warehouse at an undisclosed location in Boston, but that’s exactly where he was—and it was where he’d stay until he’d created a plan for Farah’s safety at her friend’s wedding that satisfied Rodrigo.
His thoughts were filled with Jacquie and how furious she must be with him. He didn’t imagine for one second that Farah could have made anything right, or even that the princess would have taken much trouble to try. He worked as quickly as he could, knowing it couldn’t be quick enough.
He shouldn’t have gone to the phone. He should have let Rodrigo and his men create a scene. He should have declined the privilege.
Next time.
Even though he doubted Jacquie would give him yet another chance.
Why should she? He wouldn’t have given himself one.
And yet, and yet, it mattered, as nothing had mattered in a long time. Being with Jacquie felt right. Her presence—and her kiss—had the resonance of the right choice. Pierce wanted to know where things would lead with her.
But Farah had stolen that away.
While Pierce worked, he weighed the pros and cons. What had he missed about his former life? The sense of purpose, certainly. He’d missed being part of a team committed to the same objective. He’d missed the equipment, the shadow servers and the ability they gave him to infiltrate databases all over the world. He liked making plans, especially ones with multiple contingencies, and coordinating the pieces into a scheme that unfurled like clockwork.
He didn’t miss the darkness of bunkers like this one. He didn’t miss being jerked around by those in charge. He didn’t miss the certitude that his life wasn’t his own. That was a big one.
He thought about Jacquie and her kids, the social support network she had, and knew that he hadn’t experienced that since his brother’s death. It had been friends of friends who had hired him for contract work, people who remembered his services to the crown of Greater Alghenia. The remnants of the royal family might have disappeared from the face of the earth.
Until today.
Until he was useful.
Pierce had no doubt that he’d be forgotten just as quickly again.
For the first time, he knew that the money and the professional satisfaction weren’t enough.
There was only one way out of this warehouse, though, so he worked. He drank coffee and he kept going, pushing through his growing exhaustion. He researched all of the locations for the wedding, the floor plans, the potential risks to Farah’s welfare. He created staffing plans and schedules, knowing that none of it would matter if Farah didn’t follow the scheme.
It had to be the wee hours of the next morning when she showed up, her heels clicking on the concrete floor as she marched through the bunker. Pierce was tired, hungry and had the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes. He’d consumed more caffeine since Rodrigo had picked him up than in the entire past month, maybe two, and he was grumpy. Farah was the last person he wanted to see—unless she brought good news about Jacquie.
She flung herself into a chair near Pierce and spun in it like an unhappy toddler. He could guess what that meant. “I tried,” she said, as if expecting him to be skeptical.
Pierce was.
“She didn’t want dessert,” he said, no question in his voice.
Farah shook her head.
“So you came straight here to tell me.”
“Of course not. I was in New York so I went dancing.”
Pierce exhaled.
“I had to do something fun. She hurt my feelings.”
Pierce glanced up, intrigued. He couldn’t remember anyone ever hurting Farah’s feelings, mostly because she never listened to what anyone else said. How had Jacquie gotten through to her?
Farah leaned closer, indignation making her eyes flash. “You won’t believe it. She said she felt sorry for me!”
“Why?”
“She says I’m going to be lonely, that I’ll never have any friends if I only think of myself.”
Pierce thought Jacquie had nailed it in one so he kept his mouth shut.
“I have friends!”
“Good for you.” He could feel Farah glowering at him.
“We’re friends, aren’t we, Pierce?” She sounded like a little girl again,
