The day before they were supposed to leave for Paris, Ned sneezed.
Ned wouldn't have called himself preternaturally healthy; he came down with colds the way anyone else did. But when he sneezed again, when he saw a gaze on him from across the room, his heart sank.
No Paris.
Dammit.
The summons hit his phone thirty minutes later, and even that was slower than he
expected, given everything. He sighed and closed out the project he was working on, leaving notes for the next person who picked it up.
His phone buzzed again.
How are you feeling?
Seeing his mistress's name listed as sender of the message sent a warm, happy thrill up Ned's spine.
Congested, but otherwise okay. How are you?
Considering how close they had been a few hours earlier, if he'd been coming down with anything, she likely would be too.
Overextended. As usual.
That was true. Ned was privy to her daily schedules, the monumental tasks she had to pull off flawlessly, and her focus and concentration were terrifying. She pushed herself, convinced that she couldn't fail, and the prospect of disappointing her father was anathema. This—well, this would disappoint her.
It disappointed him. He had wanted to visit Paris with her. He knew all their waking hours would be spent working, but he'd never been there and maybe, just maybe, they would have been able to find an hour to spend at a little cafe, or to stroll through a park while talking through some complicated problem. Maybe a client would suggest a trip to a club, somewhere they could dance together.
Now... his hopes faded as his headache began to pound.
He reported to the in-House medical department, and was subjected to a ridiculous number of tests. He overheard them talking and realized it with a jolt of ice water to his stomach: he could have somehow been intentionally infected with something he was meant to pass along to Nancy, in an effort to sabotage the Paris trip. Until they knew for sure, he had to be quarantined.
He would have written it off as a ridiculous overreaction, but he also knew that Nancy was very concerned about his safety, and he was feeling steadily worse. He was given a high-grade respirator mask and fitted with a biometrics transmitter, and closed his eyes as he tried to relax on the examination bed, waiting for the results. A nurse came in a few minutes later: he was dehydrated and needed an IV. They would insert it in a few minutes.
As always, his thoughts returned to Nancy.
I hope you're not feeling this way. I have a headache and congestion. Probably a fever.
Her response came a few minutes later, with a muted buzz from his phone. I'm coming in to be checked out. They won't let me see you.
He didn't say it, but he felt it. He wanted to hold her. Risk be damned, he wanted her.
But he would do anything to keep her safe. Absolutely anything. He would lay down his life for hers.
He wasn’t exactly watching for her arrival, but a part of him was; the current, the mood around him seemed to shift, some subtle hum that grew in volume. She was Second. She was a force. All she wished would be done, not only due to the power that was her birthright, but her having proven herself over and over again.
She strode in, already masked, dressed in unrelieved black. The soft pants that allowed her freedom of movement and the close-fitting sleeveless top were her work-casual, when she wasn’t client-facing. Her reddish-gold hair was pulled back, and her tension was obvious, in the tight lines of her muscular body.
Ned’s eyes met hers.
It wasn’t a compulsion; he would never have defined it that way. He just wanted to be near her, if she wished it. She was so accommodating, when she allowed herself to be.
He slid off the table, approaching the sealed glass door, and she held up a hand, staying the nurse who approached her, and crossed to Ned. He saw determination and tenderness in her gaze.
He fell to his knees, then coughed.
Nancy pressed her palm to the glass and he rested his forehead against the other side, his heart beating harder. He felt like he was failing her, and knowing he would be left behind...
She would take no one else to her bed in Paris. He was absolutely certain. But he also knew the intimacy of working with her during assignments, serving as her sounding board, and he already grieved the loss.
Nancy’s fingertips lightly tapped the glass. He tipped his head back, and saw the glint of lust in her steady gaze. She loved to see him on his knees.
He had returned to the exam bed, and she had vanished from sight, when he received another message. Rest. Be ready for me on my return.
He smiled, though his heart sank. A week without her. They had never been apart that long, not since they had committed to each other.
He closed his eyes and unconsciously pressed his wrist down, to feel the texture of the braided black leather against his skin.
—
“Your chariot.”
George was standing behind the wheelchair, masked, with her dark eyes dancing. Ned grimaced and shook his head.
"I don't need that."
The amusement vanished instantly. "Orders."
"It's humiliating."
George's posture had been easy, open. Now it was straighter. Her head tilted slightly.
It was Nancy's order. Forcing George to report his noncompliance would hurt all of them.
Ned sighed. He clenched his fist once at his side, fighting another cough, before he slowly lowered himself into the chair.
"There we go." While her wide grin was obscured by the mask she wore, Ned could still feel it. "All right. Watered-down broth or a cheesesteak for dinner?"
Ned's stomach growled in answer. He'd bolted down an energy bar earlier, and while the IV had rehydrated him, he hadn't had anything solid in hours. "Cheesesteak it is."
"When's departure?"
"They'll be leaving at oh-seven hundred."
Ned knew his mistress. She might very well pull an all-nighter in preparation and sleep en route.
Then he blinked. George had stopped—not in front of the suite of rooms he and Nancy shared, but his previous quarters. Before they had been committed, but after he had joined her House.
"I..."
"It's a precaution." George keyed in, and Ned's eyes widened. The room had been restored to the neutral configuration it had been when he moved in, all white linens, but air purifiers were running, and the air vents had been filtered too. While they checked out their tests, they weren't taking any chances. All signs pointed to him just having caught an especially bad cold, but all the tests weren't back yet.
"You said 'they,'" Ned realized, belatedly, as George wheeled him in. He hauled himself out of the wheelchair and settled heavily on the couch, looking up at her.
"I'll be on your detail while she's away."
Ned's eyebrows rose.
George shrugged slightly. "Let me go put in that dinner order, and see what's on tap."
Once the door had closed behind her, Ned tipped his head back, squeezing his eyes tight shut. It shouldn't feel like such a betrayal, it was only to make sure he didn't infect her if she hadn't caught it already, it wasn't a separation—
God. But it felt like it was.
And she was leaving George behind, with him.
Ned swallowed against his scratchy throat, and coughed. The air in the room stung his nostrils faintly, and he could only barely detect the hint of artificial lemon from the cleaning. It reminded him unpleasantly of the House clinic. His only visits there were provoked by injury or illness, and the last time he'd spent any length of time there had been when he, after—
Ned shuddered and dry-washed his face with his palms. In all honesty, he had never let himself slow down long enough to process what had happened with Rugen. If Nancy discovered him jerking awake from a nightmare again, her casual mention of the in-House therapist would no longer be casual.
He reached for Nancy so often in his sleep, and she didn't refuse him. He often woke to find her snuggled close to him, her bare breast under his cheek, her leg slung over him.
Ned had expected to see her before she left. If he didn't...
Jesus. He felt like he was going through withdrawal. The medication was just beginning to lap over the edges of his headache, drawing it into a softer-edged mist that was still doing its best to fill his consciousness, but he hadn't expected that brief encounter in the clinic to be their goodbye before her trip.
The fingers of his other hand rubbed over the texture of the braided leather bracelet. Look at me, he thought, amazed and struck by how far he was from who he had been.
There had been a time he was afraid of this, as close to this as he could imagine. Giving himself over to a woman whose power and strength were inconceivable, and letting her mold him into the partner she needed. He had never regretted it, but he understood now how little he had then. His work with her House had reshaped Ned's life in every possible way, and his relationship with her had given him indescribable pleasure.
And her appetite for him matched his for her.
Opening his eyes was so hard, but he reached for his phone.
I know you're busy. Please let me say goodbye before you go, if you can. I love you.
By the time George returned, Ned was able to hear her, but he was too tired to respond, and drifted away almost immediately.
--
George consulted the whiteboard, then glanced back down at the container, confirming the label. Yep.
"All right. It's time."
Ned shuffled out of the bathroom, looking miserable. He slowly made his way to the small table and slumped into the seat, holding his head.
She placed a bottle of water in front of him, and pressed two pills into his open palm. "Take these. Then I'll give you some good news."
"Mmm." Ned grunted before taking the pills, then brought his head up, but still didn't open his eyes. "Hmm?"
Then he had a coughing fit, the sound edged in gravel, and George flinched. She was still masked, and had every intention of dragging him back to the clinic if this lasted much longer.
"It's just a bad cold. Nancy doesn't seem to have it, and it's nothing engineered. So I get to 'push fluids,' which sounds absolutely repugnant, and keep you occupied while you recover."
For a second, just a second, George had bristled at the assignment. Her place was by Nancy's side; that was their relationship, and that was what George had worked her ass off to earn. Being assigned to babysit Ned felt like a significant demotion.
But they hadn't known if Ned had fallen victim to some diabolical plot, and George had seen the way Nancy had reacted when Ned had been kidnapped. She was never going to take Ned's safety for granted again. And George, who had proven herself so excellent a bodyguard, was now being trusted to do what Nancy herself couldn't.
That was pretty humbling.
And George had been there to see all of it. She had watched Ned realize what it would take to win Nancy, and he had slowly managed to convince both himself and Nancy that it was possible. George had watched Ned work his ass off to help Nancy, had watched him stay awake far past any reasonable point while on assignment, had seen him prove his dedication to her over and over again. He was entirely hers, now. He was her treasured one.
And Nancy trusted George to keep him safe.
Part of Ned's training had meant training with George and other members of their team, so the situation would otherwise have been laughable. Ned was ridiculously strong, beautifully coordinated, an incredible athlete. They had sparred many times during their off hours, and kept up their imagined rivalry with great relish. Ned was in top form so he could head off anything that might hurt the House he had joined and later married into, especially anything that might hurt Nancy.
So this, George knew, was the worst possible outcome for him. Unable to protect Nancy, just as George couldn't, but it was worse; Ned himself was potentially a source of danger.
For the first day, the day Nancy and the rest of her entourage headed to Paris, Ned slept and coughed, and George kept an eye on him. By the third day, he had recovered enough to contact Nancy, and worked through his obvious discomfort to set up his laptop and do what he could to assist her remotely. His strength was flagging, though, and once Nancy had logged off for the night, Ned sluggishly turned his laptop off, then slumped so that his head was resting on the arm of the couch. He was snoring a moment later.
The fourth day, George was relieved to see he was feeling better. He slept late, but asked if he would be allowed to visit the gym, and scowled when he was told to stay in his quarters.
"Hey. Want me to kick your ass?" George shrugged in the direction of the game console attached to his television.
Ned brightened a little. "I'd love to see you try," he replied.
A quiet tap sounded on the door behind her. George turned immediately; she was off duty, so someone else was standing guard, but she had learned a long time ago to take absolutely nothing for granted.
Bess walked in wearing a broad grin. Since Ned had been designated no longer contagious, no one had to mask around him anymore. Nancy's personal stylist was dressed in a tight-fitting purple dress that did everything to emphasize her curves, and her blonde hair fell in a sleek curtain down her back.
Ned brightened even more at the sight of her. She was carrying an enormous flower arrangement in her arms, so large that she had to peek from behind it, and she was teetering a little on her stilettos. George sighed as she reached for the massive crystal vase and plucked it out of Bess's grip.
"How's the patient doing?"
"Great, if you're here," Ned said, glancing toward the door. "She's back?"
Bess frowned slightly and shook her head. "Sorry. All her social events were over, so she sent me back to check on you. She should be back tomorrow, though."
"Early?"
Bess nodded. "She wants to get back here so bad that she's barely been sleeping, except when she's forced to. She really misses you."
George smirked. As though that hadn't been obvious. Bess picked up the previous day's bouquet, a smaller arrangement of roses and lilies, and George placed the new one
on the counter, fussing with it for a moment to make sure it was positioned right. When she saw Bess's eyes dancing, George flipped her off.
"At this rate, she would have had a greenhouse installed tomorrow."
Ned chuckled. "She's so thoughtful," he murmured. "She hasn't been sleeping?"
Bess crossed her arms. "Trust me, Jack is under orders to confine her to her room instead of letting her out when she's staggering on her feet. Alex and Helen are there."
Ned nodded. Of course he would be aware of who had accompanied his wife; he was an integral member of the team, and well aware of all their strengths. "Tomorrow," he repeated to himself, settling back.
Bess suddenly glanced away, touching her earpiece. She held a quiet conversation, then ended it and released a little squeal. "Outfits for the benefit have arrived! We'll fit you tomorrow, Ned."
Ned chuckled, then coughed. "Looking forward to it."
Bess departed, and George set up the gaming system, then settled on the other end of the couch from Ned. While she knew the air filters and his immune system had taken care of the threat, she still had no desire to be groggy from medication once Nancy was back.
They were tied, two to two, when Ned settled back and reached for his glass. He drained it in one long draft, then sighed.
"You hate this too."
George raised an eyebrow. "Losing to you? Hell yeah."
Ned smiled. "Not being where we should be," he said, more quietly.
"Of course. But she trusts me to keep the most important person in her life safe." Ned glanced over at George, his own eyebrows slightly higher. "I'm not."
George, her expression solemn, nodded slowly. "You are."
Ned frowned. "I'm not Prime."
"You're not. But you're the person who will be by her side after he steps aside and she takes the reins. She's invested so much in you, and—" George broke off, putting her controller down. She crossed to the small fridge and pulled out a bottle.
"Training me."
He didn't blush when he said it. Everyone in the House knew what he was to her, and George understood better than most.
George considered. "That's part of it. But... she never wanted this."
At that, he did glance away. "I know," he said quietly.
He had begged Nancy for a chance. He had been refused and turned away over and over, but he had returned to her, doing all he could to prove himself dedicated. Taking Ned as her pet had been a monumental task, and Nancy had decided to remain single before they had met; had her father insisted, she would have resigned herself to a political marriage, to casual lovers. Ned wasn't politically advantageous as a partner; in fact, he was more of a liability. He was unknown, and his family wasn't a powerful member of another House.
George took a long pull of her water, then sat down at the other end of the couch again. "It's incredible, isn't it," she said softly.
Ned glanced over at George again. "You love her."
George smiled. "I've loved her a long time. And so have you." She tilted her head. "Not the same way, clearly..."
Ned chuckled. "I didn't think so."
"But I understand. You saw in her what I see in her. And when you were gone... she would have destroyed absolutely everything to save you."
He looked down. "I tried..."
George had been there for part of it. Nancy didn't talk about it, but Nancy didn't talk about much at all. George studied Ned for a minute.
"You did. And we did our job. You're here, and back. No one thinks any less of you. Don't feel guilty or like you failed." She paused. "If anything, my being here is a sign that Nancy feels that she failed."
Ned glanced back up at her quickly. His eyes were gleaming. "No," he said quietly. "She didn't. It wasn't her fault."
"And it wasn't yours, either."
Ned sighed and shook his head. George saw him briefly rest his wrist against the bracelet, pressing it against his skin. That bracelet represented his position in a House of nearly unfathomable power; George didn't wonder that he'd want that reminder.
But he didn't use it that way. He didn't trade on the cache of his relationship with Nancy. After Rugen, Nancy had become even more ruthlessly private, and Ned obeyed her in that as he did in everything.
George had seen who Ned was before Nancy. He could have walked into any competing House, offered his services, and been afforded the high status and prestige of that position. George herself was respected for her place in this House, but she had her own life, her own freedom. She stayed here because Nancy was her best friend, because she would have trusted no one else to protect her the way George did.
And Ned likely would never have been even a blip on Rugen's radar, if he weren't Nancy's.
Ned picked up the remote again. "Best of five," he said.
--
Ned submitted to all of it: the humidifier in the room while he slept, the breathing
treatment offered, the supplements. Nancy had told him to rest and be ready for her, and she would be back soon. He wanted to be with her more than anything.
The conversation with George had dredged it up again, the memory of that night. Nancy, exhausted, grief in her eyes as she explained to Ned that there would never be a future for the two of them, that it was all or nothing—and an alliance with him offered her nothing beyond physical pleasure. His reply that he would be hers in whatever way she allowed it, if only she gave him the chance.
All or nothing. And she had given him everything.
He felt almost back to normal again as he waited for her in their suite. George had already alerted him that Nancy was on the way up, and he had checked everything. The bed was freshly made, in the soft, expensive linens she preferred. The bouquet that had been delivered to his room this morning was now here. The lights were low, and a bottle of wine was chilling, awaiting her request.
Then Nancy walked in, and the entirety of Ned's world became her.
Some part of him had been scared that spending days away from her would... oh, not make him forget all her painstaking training, but maybe just knock him a little out of sync with her. But their gazes locked, and Ned felt it again.
In a way, his training had been the easiest thing in the world, because she had allowed him to worship her. And that, being given the freedom to respond to his mistress's desires, with no second-guessing, no hints or lies, only bold demands... that had been incredible.
They met halfway and Ned dropped to his knees immediately, resting his temple against her leg. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her pants. "Mistress," he breathed, just shy of a moan.
"Edmund," she murmured, sliding her fingers into his hair and gently rubbing his scalp. Ned heard another staff member enter the room, but ignored the intrusion. He wasn't ashamed of this, and never had been.
"You're well?"
He nodded, nuzzling against her. "I missed you so much," he murmured.
Bess quietly cleared her throat. "I'll be back in the morning, unless you need me tonight," she said.
Once they were alone, Nancy touched him, wordlessly telling him to stand. A black leather coat was at the foot of the bed.
Ned turned to Nancy. A small smile curved his lips up.
"I took it with me. I didn't think you'd need it."
"I didn't," he replied softly.
He had been wearing that the night they had been on their first real date. It had been his favorite coat, a lavish present from his parents on his graduation. It was lined in satin and it had fit him perfectly. And then, after he had become Nancy's, his wardrobe had undergone a significant upgrade, handled by staff members. He couldn't even remember the last time he had seen the jacket.
Ned took a step closer, scooping it up. The scent of his favorite aftershave still clung to it—and Nancy's scent too, the subtle hint of citrus she normally wore.
"You wore it," he said, and then glanced over at her.
"Maybe." Then she reached for it and slowly put it on.
He sat down at the foot of the bed, studying her, his heart melting. He had always loved sharing his coat with women he was dating, when the opportunity arose. That night, the night of their date, he had seen her shiver and had offered it.
In their relationship, all he had been able to offer was himself. He had no other meaning in her world, no elevated status to lend her, no financial support. Seeing her wear something of his, beyond the simple band circling her finger, was...
Well. It hit him, that was all.
"Gorgeous," he told her, and saw that soft glow light her eyes. "So incredibly gorgeous. I hated being here without you."
"I know." She slowly took the jacket off, tossing it over a nearby chair. Then she toed her shoes off, stripping her shirt over her head.
Ned stood, reaching for the belt of his robe. Once she was down to her underwear, he untied the belt and let the robe slide to the floor.
She smiled, then grinned. "Oh, my obedient pet," she murmured. "You really do deserve a reward."
His gaze was locked to hers. "Tell me how many times to make you come," he begged.
She shoved her panties down, stepping out of them, then crossed to the foot of the bed. As soon as she sat down, Ned was on his knees.
She smiled again, opening her legs wide. "Let's start with one," she said. "And then another once you're inside me."
He moved forward, and kissed her knee. "I love you."
Her lashes fluttered down. "And I love you," she breathed, as he nuzzled between her thighs, and then he heard her nearly-stifled moan as his tongue made its first stroke over her clit.
Once he had figured it out, his training had been no trouble at all. For the first time in his life, all he had to do was show the woman he loved how committed to her he was, how much he worshiped and adored her. All he had to do was be himself.
And that, he thought, as she propped herself up on her elbows, her hips weakly bucking as she whimpered with her climax, was exactly all she needed, too.