The one on the left, wearing a commander's badge, stopped in front of Simon.

"Simon Northam, Duke of Hurstgrove?"

"Yes." He froze.

The sergeant beside him whipped out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them around one of Simon's wrists. "You're under arrest for Felicia Safford's kidnapping and rape."

Chapter 15

FELICIA GASPED AS THE officers whirled Simon around and cuffed his hands behind his back. Around her, the room buzzed as surprise and malicious interest swept through the crowd.

Rape? "You can't do this!" she protested to Mason.

But he could. As the prosecutor and the barrister drafting the charges, he would have latitude the average citizen wouldn't. He could say anything he bloody wanted, at least until someone talked to her and looked at the tabloid pictures. Then, any fool would know the truth. Right?

Or could Mason turn Simon's proceedings topsy-turvy, forcing him to prove his innocence? Apprehension gripped her chest.

"We have a warrant for his arrest," the sergeant pointed out.

"Can we do this elsewhere?" Simon hissed. "This is a benefit dinner. There's no need to keep the cause from making money so that you can make an example of me."

The sergeant speared Simon with a hard stare. "Are you admitting your guilt?"

"I'm refusing to air legal laundry in front of an audience."

"Wait!" she demanded. They had to see this was all wrong. "I'm Felicia Safford."

The commander turned to her. "Are you all right? Do you need medical attention?"

Medical attention? They truly believed she'd been attacked? "No, of course not.

I'm fine."

The older man sent her a kindly glance. "Then we'd like you to come with us and tell us what happened. We won't let anyone hurt you anymore." He glowered at Simon.

"Let's go."

God, everything was happening so fast. If they took Simon away, her protection would go with him, yes. But she was more concerned about him. She cared for him far too much to let anyone take him from her.

She swallowed, realizing the enormity of her feelings for him. They'd crept up on her and crowded in. He'd barged into her psyche, making himself almost as necessary to her as air.

She loved him. Dear God. How had that happened?

The policemen shoved Simon through the stunned crowd, out the door to the front of the hotel, past the paparazzi. Anxiety, incredulity, and dread rushed through Felicia as she ran after them, through the barrage of questions and flashbulbs. Mason chased after her, shouting. But she didn't slow. Somehow, she had to get Simon out of this mess.

As the peelers moved to place him in their car and refused her entrance, she grabbed the sergeant's arm. "Stop! You're making a mistake!"

He cast a curious glance between her and Mason, who now panted beside her.

"You can tell us your side of the story at the station."

The sergeant pushed Simon in the waiting police car and pivoted away. Felicia darted for the limousine, shaking all over, the press following. Damn, she must keep herself together.

A glowering Mason followed in his sensible sedan.

Nail-biting minutes later, they all arrived at the station. The two officers ushered Felicia into a small interview room, then left. She paced, wondering how long it would be before they allowed her to see Simon.

Mason must have convinced someone to let him in because he barreled into the little room moments later and grabbed her arm. "I filed these charges to help you. Now is your opportunity to tell the truth, Felicia, without Simon to coerce you. You didn't leave our wedding voluntarily with him."

Not for anything would she admit that now.

"You're using your position to prosecute your own brother?" She felt betrayed on Simon's behalf. She understood how Mason could feel as if his brother had wronged him, but how could Mason do this?

"No, to protect you," Mason insisted. "Make certain he's punished if he forced himself on you."

Simon had gone to another woman and engaged in something less than sex to avoid forcing himself on her, his own mate. "He would never do that."

Mason's face thundered into a frown. "He's seduced you. Did he tell you that he loves you? Don't put anything past him. He'd charm his way into your affections merely to turn you inside out. Felicia, whatever you think you know about him, he'll break your heart and he'll relish it. His 'feelings' for you ..." He shook his head. "They're all about hurting me."

Two days ago, she would have believed it and run scared. After all, she'd known Mason for six years, and Simon a mere three days. Now, she suspected that if she asked Simon to cut out his own heart and serve it up for her on a platter, he would.

"Aren't you trying to hurt him with this stunt?" she demanded.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and the two arresting officers walked in, minus Simon. They frowned at Mason.

She jerked her arm from her former fiance's grasp. "Where is he?"

"Hurstgrove is in custody," the sergeant growled. "Pending interrogation."

Felicia shook her head. "This is a huge misunderstanding."

"Is it, now?" The commander sent her a searching gaze. "Not according to Mr.

Daniels." Then he frowned. "Sir, you shouldn't be talking to the victim until I question her. I'll have to ask you to leave."

Mason raised a brow. "I'm both the prosecutor and her fiance. She's been hurt, and I've just recovered her. I'm not leaving."

"Simon never hurt me," she insisted.

The commander hesitated, and Mason kept on. "You know me. I would never do anything to jeopardize this investigation."

The older man sighed, clearly not liking it, but he nodded and turned Felicia's way again. "Did the Duke of Hurstgrove carry you away from your wedding against your will?"

"Is that what everyone thought?" She pretended an amused laugh. "Ridiculous."

The older man's bushy gray brows slanted down ominously. "Mr. Daniels claims that, after kidnapping you, His Grace forced you to engage in sexual activity against your will."

Felicia was almost afraid to turn and look at Mason. Now, she had to choose publicly. With one word, she'd likely ruin her relationship with her best friend forever.

Inside, she wept, hating that she'd come between brothers. But there was no choice.

"No, he didn't force me to do anything I didn't choose to."

She looked Mason in the eye. His eyes slammed shut, and the pain on his face was a stab to her chest.

"He carried you away from our wedding," Mason insisted. "I watched him. So did dozens of others. I've brought their statements."

Felicia forced herself not to flinch. "I went willingly. He only carried me as a romantic gesture and so that my shoes wouldn't be ruined by the snow."

"Your bloody shoes?" Mason railed. "You'd only met Simon the day before. He was a virtual stranger. You were furious with him."

He had her there, and Felicia panicked for a moment. If she didn't think of something plausible to say, he could ramrod these charges through and have Simon prosecuted. He'd proudly made a life of putting violent offenders behind bars.

"He's protecting me. Someone is after me." Please don't let them ask about Mathias.

"Why not come to us, Miss?" the sergeant barked.

"Simon knew of the threat before I did. I-it all happened so fast, and then we were running for our lives, hiding and unsure whom to trust. But he didn't abduct me."

The policeman cast a glance at Mason. "And the charge of rape? Did Hurstgrove sexually assault you or force you to enter into a sexual relationship?"

"As I said, nothing was against my will."

"Will you sign a sworn statement to that effect?" said the older policeman.

Felicia couldn't look at Mason, knowing he'd stuck his neck out professionally to bring her home safely, and she was rejecting his help. But she nodded.

"You're certain?" the commander asked.

"Yes. I was completely willing," she murmured.

"You let him fuck you?" Mason sounded shell-shocked. Betrayed.

Felicia hated that she'd hurt her best friend so deeply. He'd tried so hard to be her everything. She'd do almost anything to take her words back, except hurt Simon.

"Mason..."

The commander pulled out a chair. "Sit down so we can get the facts."

A long hour later, the commander put a piece of paper in front of her, typed with her formal statement. "Sign here."

"Felicia," Mason pleaded, looking pasty white. "You can't mean any of this ..."

"I'm sorry," Felicia whispered, then signed the statement and handed it back to the commander. "Will you bring Simon to me now?"

The younger policeman looked at her as if she was a Stockholm syndrome victim to be pitied. "Are you certain that's what you want? It's not too late."

She didn't care what he thought. She knew the truth. "I'm certain."

The commander made a call to the jail. Moments later, two policemen ushered Simon in and uncuffed him.

"You're free," the older man said, sliding Felicia's statement across the table in front of him. "Miss Safford made a written account of events that exonerates you."

He paused to caress her shoulder in an affectionate gesture of thanks, then plowed toward Mason. "You jealous bastard! How could you do this to Felicia? You know sharing the intimate details of her life is hard. But you forced her into telling all."

Mason raised a dark brow. "She apparently found a way to share everything with you. Her past, her fears, her body. I saw those pictures online. You shared her with the whole fucking world." He turned to her, anguish contorting his face. "Didn't I love you enough? Didn't I give you the space and time you needed? What else could I have done?"

Felicia closed her eyes and clutched her stomach. God, this hurt. She'd always known that being left by someone she loved would cause untold pain, but she'd never imagined that being the one to cut someone's heart out would hurt so deeply as well.

"You did everything," she murmured. "I'm sorry ..."

"Sorry? With a word, you think my pain just ... goes away? I wanted to love you for the rest of your life, and I was willing to accept whatever terms you needed."

"It's my fault," she choked as guilt slammed into her. "You were my crutch when I was afraid. After Deirdre died, that was all the time. You never demanded more of me, and I ... walled myself off. I'm sorry I never let you in. I'm sorry I let you be my strength instead of standing on my own two feet." Hot tears rained down her cheeks. "You've always been a great friend, and I never meant to hurt you. I really am sorry."

"That's enough." Simon pushed between them and glared at Mason. "Don't you dare take your anger out on her. If you'd like to hit me later, I'll stand still and let you.

Sue me, hate me, disown me if that will make you feel better."

"Don't worry. I will."

In the wee hours of the night, Duke climbed into the limousine with Felicia at his side, paparazzi still chasing them.

"Don't these vultures ever sleep?" she muttered.

Despite all the tension of the evening, he laughed. "They're robots missing their off buttons."

She shook her head and curled up next to him on the seat, exactly where he wanted her.

"Thank you for everything you did tonight." He hugged her tightly. Of course he also appreciated the fact she'd come to him wanting affection.

She turned to him with solemn blue eyes. He'd never grow tired of the sight of her. He hoped he saw her every day for the next thousand years.

To his surprise, she planted a soft kiss on his lips. "Are you truly surprised that I defended you?"

"Mason had no basis in fact when he tossed the rape charge out, as I'm sure he was aware. He'd seen the pictures on Out of This Realm's site and become angry." He sighed. "Frankly, I don't blame him. In his place, I'd be an unhappy bastard, too. But I'm surprised you told Commander Bradford that I hadn't abducted you against your will.

That wasn't precisely true."

She caressed his face. "From eavesdropping, I knew I was in danger and suspected only you could help me. I balked because it was so sudden." She bit her lip.

"And because you scared me."

"I'd never hurt you."

A smile played at her gorgeous mouth. "But you were much too charming and seductive for my peace of mind."

He returned the smile tenfold. "Ah, liked me a bit too much for comfort, did you?"

"Now you're just being cocky."

Duke clamped his hands around her waist and lifted her. She shrieked as he settled her over his lap, thighs straddling his hips. Then he lifted up to her so she could feel his erection. "Not yet, but lose those knickers, and I will be."

"You're incorrigible." She scrambled back to the seat beside him, casting a fretful glance at the driver.

As Duke raised the privacy glass, his heart lurched. "But you do like something about me?"