Chapter 113: Inseparable

Daphne

As it was Saturday, I had no where in particular to be. But of course, Louis was always busy. Leanne was knocking on his door just as I was coming out of the shower wrapped only in a towel. Louis opened the door and let her in as if it was perfectly natural that his assistant should see us together.

She strode into the room, her eyes glued to her tablet, her ever-present clipboard tucked under one arm. “Good morning, Your Highness. Just a few things for this morning–” She began to list off the events on his schedule, meeting after meeting. As she read down the list, she backed into the couch and sat down.

I met Louis’s eyes, and he simply smiled and continued buttoning his shirt.

I shrugged and went in search of the clothes we had discarded last night. I found my bra and my underwear. I thought about going back into the bathroom to discreetly pull on the clothes, but Leanne wasn’t paying any attention anyway, so I dropped the towel and started pulling on my underclothes.

“And let’s see, there have been several bids on the Western property that you wanted to sell, but Alpha Dean is asking for first priority since the property does touch his boundary line. I told him you would consider it and call him back later today–”

I fastened my bra in place and started hopping into my leggings. It was always a little tricky pulling on leggings when your skin was still warm and damp from a shower. Louis casually picked up a throw pillow that we had kicked off the chase lounge, fluffed it a little and put it back in place.

I was still missing my shirt. I glanced around the room again, checked under the bed, and finally spotted it, still draped along the back of the chase lounge, where I had left it. Only now Leanne was leaning back against it, trapping it behind her shoulders. I walked quietly until I was standing right behind her. I took the edge of the shirt and tugged slightly, but she still didn’t notice.

“Um, excuse me, if you could just–” I tugged at the shirt again.

Leanne sat up abruptly, and twisted on the couch to look at me, her undershot jaw sagging as she stared at me, standing there in just my leggings and bra. “Oh. Good morning, Miss Redhawk,” she recovered nicely, gave me a polite smile, and turned her back on me again. “As I was saying–”

I tried not to laugh as I pulled the shirt over my head. Louis was grinning broadly as he looped a tie around his neck.

I had to appreciate Leanne’s professionalism, and her ability to focus on the task at hand.

“Thank you, Leanne. I think the rest can wait until after breakfast? I’m absolutely famished. I think I worked up an appetite.” I could tell he was teasing her on purpose.

Leanne looked up from her tablet, and her cheeks flushed a little. “Certainly, sir, but there is just one more thing. Security called up about twenty minutes ago. There was a man at the gate.”

Louis tugged his knot into place and smoothed it over his chest. “I presume this man didn’t have a pass. Human?”

“Um, yes sir. Erickson spoke with him, advised him he was on private property, the usual, but um, he asked him to send a message.”

That got Louis’s attention. “A message? For me?”

“No, Your Highness,” her pale blue eyes shifted to me, and then glanced back down at the notes on her clipboard. “For Miss Redhawk. Um, he identified himself as Nash Turner. Said he needed to speak to her about a bear.”

I felt like the floor moved under my feet, like I was standing on the chessboard, and someone was tipping it back and forth. “Nash Turner? He’s here?”

“Well, not exactly. Erickson sent him away, but perimeter security says he’s been circling the pack lands. They think he may be looking for a weak spot to attempt to breach the outer wall.” Leanne paused with her pen poised over the notepad. “Should I call in the authorities?”

“No, no.” Louis, seeming to sense that I was feeling dizzy, hurried to my side and slipped his arm around my waist. He looked down at me, his eyes suddenly seeming dull, the gold sparkles muted. “He’s here, Daphne. What would you like to do?”

“Sit,” I said, my lips feeling strangely numb. “I’d like to sit down.”

Louis led me around the sitting room to one of the chairs and gently lowered me into it. My head felt thick and confused. Hadn’t I just said I wasn’t in a hurry? And yet, here it seemed the Moon Goddess was bent on rushing things. I’d just found some happiness, some comfort, some peace with Louis, and now it was slipping through my fingers like water.

Louis squatted in front of me, brushing my shower-damp hair back behind my ear. His eyes were kind and sad. “Maybe you should see him,” he suggested gently. “And get it over with.”

“Get it over with?” I echoed. Some part of me whimpered. Why did it seem like everything was about to implode? That everything was about to be “over with” the moment I laid eyes on Nash Turner again.

Besides, he said something about the bear-shifter.

What could he possibly have to tell me that I didn’t already know?

“I suppose it's like a band-aid,” I said, resting my hand on my belly. “I just need to rip it off.”

Louis’s hand cupped my cheek. “Just remember, you aren’t alone Daphne. I’m here for you.” His hand covered my hand over my belly. “I’m here for both of you.”

I nodded numbly.

Louis sucked in a breath and straightened. “Call Erickson, tell him to bring Nash Turner inside. But keep eyes on him at all times.” Louis pursed his lips into a thin line. “Turner is an ex-Navy SEAL. He could pose a threat to the pack.”

“He’s not a threat,” the words slipped through my lips. I’m not sure where the conviction came from, but the certainty was there in my tone.

Nate - Nash, I corrected myself again, wasn’t a threat to the Royal werewolf pack. But he might very well be a threat to my heart.

“Come,” Louis extended his hand, “Let’s get some breakfast before he arrives.” He forced a smile. “I’ve asked the chef to prepare Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”

I let him pull me back to my feet. I waited to feel the room tilt off axis, but with my hand firmly held in Louis’s everything seemed steady again. “Ice cream.”

“What,” Louis asked me absently as we started toward the door. Leanne trailed behind us, frantically texting messages, presumably to the perimeter security detail, her brow furrowed with either concentration or disapproval, I couldn’t tell which.

I straightened my shoulders. “I want ice cream on my waffles.”