holiday residence for my family, off limits to everyone except only close family and closely trusted friends.’
Cassie raised her brows at him as he closed the heavy door behind him. ‘So, Sebastian,’ she said. ‘Which category do I fall into? Surely you do not consider me a close friend or a future member of the royal family?’
Tension travelled all the way from his darker-than-dark eyes to his chiselled jaw and then to his thinned-out mouth. ‘Given our history, Cassie,you are not eligible for either of those positions,’ he bit out tightly.
Cassie wished with all her heart she could reveal Sam’s identity and throw the truth of their situation in his face to make him realise how much she was a part of his wretched royal family whether he liked it or not, but some remnant of self-respect and self-preservation prevented her from doing so. Instead she smiled up at him, a cool, calculating smile that gave him no clue to the turmoil going on inside her. ‘I consider myself deeply honoured, Your Royal Highness,’ she drawled with a bow of her head that deliberately fell short of the mark, delivering the insult she had intended. ‘It is indeed a privilege to be considered worthy of gracing the highly esteemed private residence of the Karedes family, considering the lower than low background I come from.’
‘Your background was nothing to be ashamed of until you took it upon yourself to degrade your father at every opportunity,’ he said. ‘His public role was made a hundred times worse by the way you behaved.’
Twenty-four years of Cassie’s suffering threatened to come to the surface, like a volcano silently brewing until the temperature of the lava became too hot to contain. A catastrophic explosion was imminent, but somehow she was able to containthe emotion she felt to remind herself no one knew her father as she had known him. No one had heard the soul-destroying words he had flung at her in one of his many out-of-control tempers; no one had seen the bruises his hands, not to mention any other objects within his reach, had left on her body.
Sebastian had not seen the jagged scar low on her back her father had scored into her flesh that fateful day. It was like a tattoo of torment, the brand her father had left to remind her of how he had demanded total control of her, a control she had not given willingly and had fought every inch of the way as each strike of his belt had bitten cruelly and cuttingly into her flesh.
Cassie had been so proud that she hadn’t cried. She had gritted her teeth until she was sure they would crack under the pressure. She had taken every vicious cut of the strap like a convict bracing for the cat-o’-nine-tails.
That had been her victory.
Her father could blame her for her mother’s untimely death, he could blame her for having been a small, needy and insecure child, and he could even blame her for being an out-of-control, wilful teenager, but he could not blame her for reclaiming her life and that of her child. That had been her only solace. Her father had not known of Sam’s existence. Her tiny precious son hadbeen even to Cassie, unknown in her womb at the time of that dreadful scene. Whether her father would have acted differently if he had known she was carrying a royal baby was something she would never know.
But Cassie knew she had choices now and one was to keep a cool head. Sebastian’s presence admittedly made that task difficult, but she had to keep a lid on her emotions, at all times and in all places.
She had to.
Cassie lifted her gaze to his, her spine not quite so rigid, her shoulders going down beneath the sheltering warmth of his jacket. ‘My father was not a good father,’ she said. ‘He might have been a brilliant mayor and an astute businessman, but he didn’t love and protect me the way he should have done. You didn’t know him personally, Sebastian. You knew of him from what your father and other palace officials told you.’ Her eyes
Cassie raised her brows at him as he closed the heavy door behind him. ‘So, Sebastian,’ she said. ‘Which category do I fall into? Surely you do not consider me a close friend or a future member of the royal family?’
Tension travelled all the way from his darker-than-dark eyes to his chiselled jaw and then to his thinned-out mouth. ‘Given our history, Cassie,you are not eligible for either of those positions,’ he bit out tightly.
Cassie wished with all her heart she could reveal Sam’s identity and throw the truth of their situation in his face to make him realise how much she was a part of his wretched royal family whether he liked it or not, but some remnant of self-respect and self-preservation prevented her from doing so. Instead she smiled up at him, a cool, calculating smile that gave him no clue to the turmoil going on inside her. ‘I consider myself deeply honoured, Your Royal Highness,’ she drawled with a bow of her head that deliberately fell short of the mark, delivering the insult she had intended. ‘It is indeed a privilege to be considered worthy of gracing the highly esteemed private residence of the Karedes family, considering the lower than low background I come from.’
‘Your background was nothing to be ashamed of until you took it upon yourself to degrade your father at every opportunity,’ he said. ‘His public role was made a hundred times worse by the way you behaved.’
Twenty-four years of Cassie’s suffering threatened to come to the surface, like a volcano silently brewing until the temperature of the lava became too hot to contain. A catastrophic explosion was imminent, but somehow she was able to containthe emotion she felt to remind herself no one knew her father as she had known him. No one had heard the soul-destroying words he had flung at her in one of his many out-of-control tempers; no one had seen the bruises his hands, not to mention any other objects within his reach, had left on her body.
Sebastian had not seen the jagged scar low on her back her father had scored into her flesh that fateful day. It was like a tattoo of torment, the brand her father had left to remind her of how he had demanded total control of her, a control she had not given willingly and had fought every inch of the way as each strike of his belt had bitten cruelly and cuttingly into her flesh.
Cassie had been so proud that she hadn’t cried. She had gritted her teeth until she was sure they would crack under the pressure. She had taken every vicious cut of the strap like a convict bracing for the cat-o’-nine-tails.
That had been her victory.
Her father could blame her for her mother’s untimely death, he could blame her for having been a small, needy and insecure child, and he could even blame her for being an out-of-control, wilful teenager, but he could not blame her for reclaiming her life and that of her child. That had been her only solace. Her father had not known of Sam’s existence. Her tiny precious son hadbeen even to Cassie, unknown in her womb at the time of that dreadful scene. Whether her father would have acted differently if he had known she was carrying a royal baby was something she would never know.
But Cassie knew she had choices now and one was to keep a cool head. Sebastian’s presence admittedly made that task difficult, but she had to keep a lid on her emotions, at all times and in all places.
She had to.
Cassie lifted her gaze to his, her spine not quite so rigid, her shoulders going down beneath the sheltering warmth of his jacket. ‘My father was not a good father,’ she said. ‘He might have been a brilliant mayor and an astute businessman, but he didn’t love and protect me the way he should have done. You didn’t know him personally, Sebastian. You knew of him from what your father and other palace officials told you.’ Her eyes
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