Above All Else: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 2) (8 page)

              The echoes of the angry protestors rang through my ears and suddenly, I felt way too exposed. All this flat, wide country provided no coverage! I remembered the shouts and calls for my abdication and my trial. Although Uncle Gregory had tried to shield it from me, I had seen the effigies they had made of me, swinging from ropes or burning from stakes.

              I quickly lunged at the nails, desperate to do something that’ll keep me occupied. I wondered where Xander went. I had assumed he had left to work on the ranch but he hadn’t told me where he’d be exactly. But I realized, I didn’t know the property very well so even if he had told me where he would be, it’s not like I would know how to find him.

              As irrational as it was, I felt a little hurt. Didn’t he worry about me? Yes, we were far away from Loranza but I was a targeted person. I was in danger. Didn’t he worry about leaving me alone like this in the open?

              I started grabbing nails by the fistful, ignoring the stabs of pain as the sharp ends dug into my palms. The pain helped calm me down a little, remind me that I wasn’t losing total control.

              I don’t know how many minutes passed as I quickly sorted the nails but despite how fast I was working, I was only getting more anxious. I hadn’t realized just how much I had depended on Xander.

              Despite his easy demeanor and his slow fuse to anger, there was a quiet authority to him that oozed from every inch of his body. There was no doubt that this man was very capable and competent. And being so tall and well built only emphasized just how reliable he was.

              And from the moment I had landed in America, regardless of how I had fought it, he had been with me every step of the way, keeping me close and safe. And now, without him, I realized just how vulnerable I felt. He had made me stronger by being with me. Following his lead, I had been able to keep my fears and anxiety at bay.

              But now, alone, the darkness was closing in on me and I shook, trying to keep myself together.

             
Stop it! No matter what, you are a princess and you are more than this! So get a grip!

              But it didn’t matter. No amount of chastising seemed to calm me down.

              Dropping my handful of nails, I decided to head out and try and find Xander. If I at least knew where he was, maybe I’d feel a little better.

              I peeked my head outside the shed. To my right, there was just open fields with fencing lining the outer edge. To my left was the way up to the house and beyond that the drive.

              And a truck.

              I squinted. I watched as an unfamiliar truck drove up the drive. I knew it wasn’t Xander’s. My heart skipped a beat as I watched the truck park near the house.

              I
knew
it couldn’t be someone from Loranza. Or anyone that even knew me. I knew it. I did.

              But that didn’t stop my heart from racing. Xander hadn’t said anything about a visitor. He would’ve warned me if someone were coming. He wasn’t that careless. After all, we had to corroborate our cover stories together. Cold sweat began to dew around my temples as I felt a full on panic attack begin to consume me. Despite our remoteness, what if some Loranzian hitman
had
found me? What if he was coming to kill me and Xander was too far away to hear or help me?

              I swallowed dryly, my palms itching from fear.

              A large stocky man jumped out of the truck and I saw him staring at the house. He didn’t
look
Loranzian but that didn’t faze me. He could’ve adopted a disguise. And the man was plenty big that I couldn’t fight him off if it came to that.

              I stared at him, studying him, when suddenly, his head whirled towards the shed and directly at me. My heart nearly stopped as our eyes met.

              The man gave a kind of nod, as if confirming something, and then started heading straight towards me.

             
Oh my god.

              He had seen me peeking out of the shed. There was no point in hiding in here now. Should I run?

              Although an older man, I had seen how stocky and built his body was. He had thick arms that told me he could easily strangle or maybe break a neck. I gripped the shed wall, still peering out, unable to move as the man came closer and closer, wordless.

              I felt as if I was watching Death approach.

              Then suddenly, out from behind the side of the shed, Pluto jumped out, blocking the man’s path. The man jerked back in surprise at this sudden appearance of the wolf dog.

              Although Pluto’s tail was lazily wagging back and forth in a friendly manner, he gave three loud, sharp barks. I saw the man stare in surprise at the wolf dog, probably the way I had upon first meeting Pluto.

              Where had the dog come from?

              It looked like he had come from behind the shed and yet I hadn’t seen him walking around me at all since the morning.

              “Hey there, Pluto,” the man suddenly greeted with a smile after recovering. “Damn near gave me a heart attack!”

              The man gave Pluto a scratch behind the ear which Pluto accepted with dignity.

              Then from around the house, I heard, “Hey, Bill! Brought the stuff I ordered, did you?”

              I saw Xander approaching the stranger with his arm outstretched and a welcoming smile.

             
“I’m getting an order of some supplies coming in soon for some of the repair work I’ll have to do around here.”

              I suddenly remembered what he had said to me earlier.

              Bill and Xander shook hands as Bill led Xander back to his truck where I noticed for the first time the bed, full of boards and supplies. So rattled, I hadn’t been able to notice anything more than the stranger at first.

              I watched the men talk and unload the stuff together before noticing Pluto sitting down in front of the shed, his tail swiping back and forth across the grass as he too watched the men.

              Then I realized.

              Pluto was protecting me.

              He was sitting in front of me and the shed, guarding me carefully. And there was only one reason why Pluto would do such a thing: an order from his master.

              I looked up and saw Xander unloading a large crate from the truck, his biceps bulging against his white t-shirt.

              Xander had ordered his dog to stay close and to watch over me. I realized Pluto’s bark had been a warning call to Xander and that was how he had come over so quickly.

              So he
hadn’t
left me alone. Despite knowing we were in a remote place, he too had wanted to take precautions. And since I had shown such fear around the dog earlier, he had told Pluto to stay close but out of sight.

              And he had.

              Only when a possible threat approached, did he jump out to protect me and to warn Xander.

              That familiar pool of warmth began to bloom within me again.

              I looked at the back of the large dog, still unable to believe it was anything less than a wolf.

              “Good dog,” I whispered.

              Pluto’s head turned a little at my words and I was afraid he would approach me. But instead he looked at me before turning back to the men, staying on guard.

              But I did notice his tail wag a little faster.

Chapter
Eight
Xander

              I looked at the pots bubbling away on the stove skeptically.

              “You know,” I started out, watching Sofia busily circling the kitchen, pulling this and that out, “I like to think of food in a rainbow.”

              “A rainbow?” Sofia echoed absentmindedly as she chopped up a zucchini.

              “Yeah,” I said, wincing as she chopped haphazardly, clearly having never learned proper chopping technique. I stood tensely, waiting for a finger to fly off. “For example, the food you make should resemble a color in the rainbow. Like peas are green. Tomatoes are red. Like a rainbow.”

              “Ohhh, that makes sense,” Sofia said, barely listening, as she dumped the zucchini into a boiling pot.

              I eyed all the cookery going on with a sense of coming dread. “So you know, if we’re talking about the rainbow,” I said, lifting the lid to something thick and murky that was slowly gurgling in a pot, “where does this grayish brown color fit in?”

              Sofia looked over at the pot I was staring at and quickly grabbed the lid from me and slammed it down.

              She wagged a finger at me. “You can’t judge a creation before its finished! Now go away! You’re breathing down my neck and slowing me down.”

              She pushed at me and I let her shove me out of the kitchen. But I hung around the nearby living room, afraid to leave her alone in there. Her movements just screamed incoming grease fire. I could just see her sending this whole house up in flames.

              But as I watched her busily dice vegetables and spoon mystery liquids, I couldn’t help but smile a little watching her.

              She had her long auburn hair into a loose bun on the top of her head. She wore a powder blue sweater that was somehow dusted with flour even though she had no flour out on the counter. There was some kind of smudge on her chin and her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink from cooking.

              I looked at those soft lips and wanted to bite them. I’d much rather eat her than any meal.

             
Vaughn, watch yourself.

              How many times did I need to remind myself that this was a mission?

              But even as a mission, this was one hell of an interesting one. Never in my wildest imaginations would the spoiled Crown Princess of Loranza be in my kitchen cooking me dinner.

              It seemed too preposterous yet it was literally happening in front of me.

              “I want to make you dinner,” Sofia had said to me earlier this evening.

              I had stared at her confusion. “How?” I asked, dumbfounded.

              She rolled her eyes, sighing. “Through magic,” she said dryly. “By cooking it, of course!”

              I had stared at her in silence. “You,” I said. “You? You.”

              She lifted a brow at me. “Are you having a stroke?”

              “
You
want to cook?” I said slowly, as if speaking to someone who didn’t speak English.

              “Yes,” she said, taking on the same tone.

              “Why?” I asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

              Sofia’s dry look of amusement vanished and in its place a look of shy coyness appeared. She looked down at her feet and mumbled, “Well…I just…I wanted to do something to say…thanks.” She looked up, her blue eyes sparkling softly. “I wanted to thank you for having me here. For taking care of me.”

              I stared at her, stunned. But before I could think of a reply, she dashed away saying, “Dinner’ll be ready in an hour!”

              I watched the slim lines of her back as she stirred several different pots. Every day, I never failed to be surprised and intrigued and drawn to this woman. She seemed so adept at keeping me on my toes without even really trying.

              She had the ability to be cattier than a mountain cat with icy words and putdowns but I quickly saw through that. I realized that that was her defense mechanism to keep herself in control and aloof. And after hearing about her bitch governess, I could see why she craved that kind of power.

              My jaw tightened as I remembered learning more about the sadistic Lady Angstrom and Minister Pryto a few nights back.

              I had been working on repairing one of the fences towards the northwestern end of the property. Some of the fencing was starting to rot and I had spent the better part of the day replacing several feet of it.

              After the first hour, I had sweated through my shirt and had taken it off, letting it hang from one of the fence posts as I continued to work. I was so immersed, I didn’t even hear Sofia approach until she gave a discreet cough.

              I turned around and saw her standing behind me, holding a bottle of water. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

              I took the bottle in surprise, a little out of breath from pulling out the rotted fencing. “Thanks,” I said, taking the bottle gratefully and nearly finishing it.

              Sofia looked around the field, studying the new fencing and the pile of the old rotted fencing. In the late afternoon light, the warm rich glow made her skin almost golden.

              Then I noticed her eyes had traveled towards me. I caught her staring at my torso. Remembering I was shirtless, I looked down and saw what had caught her gaze.

              There was some heavy bruising around my torso that wrapped around to my back, dangerously close to my kidneys. They were fading but they still had the dark blue and green tinge to them.

              Our last mission had ended with a face to face attack by some breakaway militiamen. We had only gotten away by literally punching our way through. Although we had won and managed to get back to our LZ, we had taken quite a beating in the process.

              “Those look like they’re about ten days old,” she said, carefully studying the bruising. “That one looks the worst. Hit hard, huh?” She said, pointing to the one above my ribs.

              I had been. One of the men had shoved his gun butt hard into my side, nearly breaking a rib.

              I looked up at her in complete dumbstruck surprise. “How did you know that? How did you guess ten days?”

              That hadn’t been just a random number she had tossed out. She had been specific. Not a week old. Not two weeks old. Ten days. She had gotten it down to the day.

              I had always attributed that kind of knowledge to only soldiers. Being out on the field and getting battered constantly, you become very familiar with bruises and cuts and just how long it takes to heal. But even then, that kind of knowledge only came after years of experience. You knew a true hardened soldier when he could calculate how long he had been out in the field or maybe held captive as a POW based on the growth of his beard or the darkness of his bruises.

              How could a princess possibly possess this knowledge as well?

              Sofia shrugged and gave a kind of quick half smile. “Experience,” she said broadly. She walked over to the fence, leaning against one of the fresh posts I had just replaced.

              I studied her. “Where’d you get experience in timestamping bruises?” I asked, unable to keep the incredulity from my voice.

              Sofia looked up at me before her eyes warmed with an almost pitying look. “Just because you are born a princess, doesn’t mean you are a princess. You must be
trained
to become one,” she explained as if teaching a child something obvious. “And for most, the rules and regulations of royal life does not come naturally. So you must be taught…and disciplined.”

              “Like being starved,” I finished, my throat tightening in anger, remembering her stories about her childhood. Who disciplines a child through starvation?

              Sofia nodded. “That’s one method,” she said calmly and without rancor. “Beatings were common. Pain. Humiliation. Essentially, anything that could break a person’s will.”

              I almost didn’t want to know the answer but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “And how often were you beat?”

              Sofia pressed her lips in thought, as if considering the weather. “I would say from age 9 onward, there wasn’t a day I didn’t have a bruise on me, fresh or old. It wasn’t until I got sent to boarding school that I finally got to see my body without any purple or blue splotches.”

              She spoke of her torture as casually as someone could speak about their dinner or a TV show.

              I stared at her, unsure which feeling was stronger—anger or pity. It was a combination of the two. An overwhelming tornado of both emotions whirling in me as I fisted my hands, itching to break a fence post.

              “How in the hell did you manage to get out of the palace then?” I asked. “I would think Minister Pryto and that bitch governess wouldn’t want you out of their sights, let alone in a boarding school across the globe.”

              Sofia gave a soft, humorless chuckle. “In any other case, you’d be right. But Minister Pryto is very smart. You have to be if you’re going to take over sole control of the only crown heir after the King and Queen have died suddenly. He had plans. When he had told me I was going to school in Switzerland, I had thought he had been teasing, torturing me with the ideas of hope.”

              I could just imagine that sick bastard doing something like that to a girl he had just spent the last decade tormenting and torturing.

              “But he meant it,” Sofia said. “I didn’t believe it till I was on the plane but he really sent me. I cried on the plane from sheer relief. But it wasn’t until later I realized what he had done. The older I got, the harder it would be to control me, especially once I got close enough to my coronation age. And he knew that. So what’s the solution? Send me away. And
keep
me away.”

              I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

              Sofia ran a hand down the length of the fence post. She smiled softly to herself, a pained expression marring her delicate features. “My people think I don’t care for them. That I don’t love them. They think I ignore them and use them. They talk about how snobbish I was right from childhood. But they didn’t realize Minister Pryto never let me participate in State events as a child. I wasn’t in public not because I thought I was too good for them but because I was usually locked in my room.” Sofia sighed.

              “They think I avoid coming home to Loranza when in fact, Minister Pryto makes it nearly impossible for me to return. He bars my entry almost every time and only lets me in when
he
finds it advantageous for him. And that’s usually at an event where I’m shown in a horrible light as a spoiled rich princess who could care less what happened to her home country. If it wasn’t for Uncle Gregory, I probably never would’ve been able to go back to Loranza at all.”

              She shook her head, as if arguing with herself internally. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I am horrible. Maybe I am spoiled. After all, all those gossip stories about me weren’t entirely made up. But I was so angry after awhile. I thought, if Minister Pryto was going to make me into such a shallow, fame-hungry whore, that’s just what I’d become. That way at least, whenever I saw the glares from my countrymen, I wouldn’t feel so w-wronged.”

              Sofia’s voice broke on the last word and I knew her bravado was just that—bravado. She
did
care what her people thought of her, despite her words.

              Just like her people misunderstood her, I had misunderstood her as well. I had just seen the sparkling shallow princess flitting about the world from one red carpet event to the next. I had never stopped to see the hollowness in her eyes or the longing in her face. She had lived her entire life with people smearing her name and punishing her for crimes she had never committed. No wonder she constantly had her guard up.

              No wonder she was afraid.

              The sun sank a little lower and the pink-gold light shone across her, lighting her up like an angel. I cupped her cheek gently, feeling her smooth skin against my rough and torn palm.

              “You said that they had done everything to break down your will,” I said, meaning Minister Pryto and Lady Angstrom. “But they didn’t, did they?” Sofia’s blue eyes, rich and deep as the ocean, turned away from me. I pulled her face back up towards me. I wanted her to hear these words. I
needed
her to hear them.

              “Did they?” I insisted. I looked down at possibly the bravest person I had ever met. Years of abuse and torture and coldness and still she stood up on her own two feet. How many people could say they could do that?

              I ran a hand down her hair before swiping back down towards her cheek. “No, they could never break you. And that’s why tried so hard,” I said. “They saw that strength inside you. And it scared them. You were too strong for them to break.” I locked eyes with her. “You were too strong for them.” I emphasized the words.