Page 76 of The Prince Who Loved Me

Massimo had inserted himself between Sebastien and the photographer, keeping Sebastien from ripping the man’s face off while guests pulled out their phones.

“Massimo will take care of things here, and his Highness would be most upset if something were to happen to you.”

The ratman grasped Massimo’s shoulder, trying to get him to turn. Massimo obliged and knocked him out with one well-placed punch.

“Damn,” Brandi whistled.

“We’re not here just because we’re pretty,” Loïc said.

Massimo ushered Sebastien through the gallery to a door marked Employees Only. Brandi followed with Loïc, bending her head so her hair covered her face. Camera flashes followed the procession. She caught Wendy’s expression as she passed by. Her cousin looked ready to commit murder, but Brandi gave her head a quick shake. “I’ll call you.”

As soon as they were in the privacy of the back rooms, Sebastien raced over to Brandi and engulfed her in a hug. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Her immediate Old Brandi response came to mind, theI’m finethat smothered any conflict and made sure her boyfriend saw her as someone easy to be around so he’d keep taking care of her.

Sebastien wouldn’t buy it. And she wasn’t that person anymore.

“He took a picture up my dress. I’m not sure how to be okay with that.” She couldn’t stop trembling and closed her eyes to shut out the world, inhaling his warmth.

“You’re not.” He smoothed her hair while he spoke to his bodymen in his language.

Massimo spoke up. “I think he may have been a guest at the Inn recently.”

“Did he follow us here?” Brandi asked. Sebastien’s sanctuary, gone just like that.

“We were pretty open about discussing the art show,” he said. “I doubt we were followed.”

“I’m sorry,” Brandi whispered. “I shouldn’t have gone after him.”

“It’s a good thing you got to him first.” Sebastien’s voice was tight. “I wouldn’t have been as nice.”

The door creaked open and Loïc positioned himself as a barrier.

Thomasina entered, shaking her head. “Your Highness, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

“I have signs posted. No photographs. That will help your cause, Brandi.” She gripped her hands together. “Kevin Card – the photographer – is making noises about needing an ambulance and suing. Let the bastard try.”

Brandi groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“It’s not your fault,” Sebastien said again. He took her hands. “Who knows how many times this bastard has taken pictures like this? If you hadn’t confronted him, he’d keep doing it. Again and again. Loïc.” He turned to his bodyman. “Go out there and assess his needs. See if he’s truly hurt. If he’s not, make sure he is.”

Loïc raised an eyebrow before giving Sebastien a small bow.

“No, I caused this, I should be the one who goes.” Brandi took a step forward. She didn’t want Kevin killed.

Sebastien didn’t let go of her hand. “My men are trained in these types of situations. I think you going out there might stir things up again. And Loïc won’t really hurt him.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Was she at fault for the man’s injuries? Surely taking a picture up her dress had to be illegal, even if there weren’t posted signs. She slumped against a wall as Loïc reentered the exhibit hall.

Her phone vibrated from the evening bag slung over her shoulder. She read the text. “It’s Wendy. She said Loïc is like a mountain, but the photographer is making a lot of noise. How are we going to get out of here?”

“My men scoped out the exit routes before the show. Thomasina?”

“Everything should be clear for you to leave through the back,” she said.

Sebastien spoke to Massimo, then put his arm around Brandi’s shoulders.