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“I have to go to him.” Lexie rose jerkily from the chair. She felt disjointed, clumsy. Her mind was whirring but her body was too slow to keep up. “Please have my things ready,” she addressed Theia.
Sensing her distress, Julian took a step nearer and laid a hand on her arm. “You can go tomorrow, Lexie, after you have rested properly.”
“No!” She shook off his hand violently. “I have to leave now. I’m the reason he’s hurt and−“ she swallowed a sob, trying to regain control.
Theia came to her rescue. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but there are no more available flights tonight,” she apologized. The secretary received a glare from Stefan, who looked like he was cursing her for anticipating the Princess’ next move.
“You can use my jet,” offered Julian, and Stefan’s head turned to blast him with a scowl.
“Do not interfere, Julian,” Stefan warned darkly. “This is a family matter. Lexie, I am forbidding you to go to Fernandez.”
“Forbidding?” Julian repeated glibly, following it with a droll laugh. “God, Stefan, you’re beginning to sound like a character out of those bloody Spanish melodramas my sister likes to watch.” He winked at Theia. “Maggie says it’s to improve her grasp of the language.”
“Shut up, Julian.” Stefan pinched the bridge of his aristocratic nose. “Lexie, listen to me. I don’t want you to have anything to do with that man. He has brought you nothing but trouble.”
Lexie shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong, Stefan. I was trouble but he was always there for me.” Even if he didn’t want to. “He loves me,” she whispered, even if he had never meant to. And she had to be there for him now when he needed her most.
She left the room, uncaring if she called on the wrath of Stefan. The sound of firm footsteps on the hallway behind her made her whirl around.
“He refused Pygmalion.” It was Julian. His face was in the shadows. Somebody had forgotten to turn on the lights in the hallway, and nightfall had come early.
“What?” She blinked uncomprehendingly, trying to make out his features.
“The horse for your arrangement. Fernandez refused to take it.” There was a measured quality to the timbre of his voice, as if he was trying to figure out something.
The lights suddenly came on and Lexie flinched. When she opened her eyes, green ones were observing her intently. “That’s good to know,” she said inanely, masking the well of emotions threatening to burst out of her. If she caved in, Julian would be horrified to see her bawling on the floor like a baby. He wasn’t fooled, though.
His eyes glinted with something close to tenderness. He chucked her under the chin with a lean finger and studied her face, as if memorizing it. A small smile broke from the almost cruel outline of his lips. “It’s not often I see it,” he mused out loud, sounding entertained, cynical, and detached altogether, ”but when I do,” he swept a stray tendril of red hair and tucked it behind an ear, “it sure is grand.”
What was he talking about?
The Duke kissed her on the forehead. “I have a feeling I’m not going to see you for quite some time. Take care, Princess.”
With that, he was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Lexie arrived in Los Angeles at midnight, wrung out, her body clock out of sync. She wanted to rush to the hospital, but a quick call made by Theia revealed that Nic was lightly sedated and was already sleeping in preparation for the scheduled early morning operation. She fell on her former bed in Blair’s mansion and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she went out like a light.
Lexie woke up later than she had anticipated. She had failed to reset her alarm to the local time. In a hurry, she declined breakfast and greeted and kissed Blair and her uncle on the cheek, who were both miraculously home together for once. She ignored her relatives’ obviously curious and concerned faces, eager to be on her way to the hospital immediately.
“He would be in the operating room by now,” Theia commented, as ever the voice of reason. “You can eat something first before we leave.”
