Above All Else: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 2) (15 page)

BOOK: Above All Else: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 2)
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              Sofia’s tremors grew stronger as she began to shake her head, her body instinctively denying what she was watching.

              One of the guards reached up the gallows above and pulled down the knotted rope.

              “Oh my god, no, no, no,” Sofia whispered heartbreakingly. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Please. Please. Uncle Gregory. Please!” I was sure she wasn’t even aware the flood of tears that was flowing down her cheeks.

              “Prince Gregory,” Pryto said, once the rope was securely around the Prince’s neck, “may God have mercy on your soul!”

              The signal was given. The lever was pulled.

              And the gruesome image of Prince Gregory’s body dropping grotesquely by the rope was burned into our brains.

              But it was Sofia’s piercing screams of unbearable heartbreak that burned into my heart.

 

***

 

              Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. I wiped the damp cloth down her forehead and neck.

              She looked up at me and around the room, disorientated and confused. But I could almost pinpoint the moment reality rushed back to her and immediately, she gasped as if someone was literally stabbing her heart. Tears streamed down her face in hot rivers and she bit her lip till she drew blood.

              Almost immediately, she had fainted, completely overwhelmed by the cruelty and pain inflicted by a man who had tortured her her entire life. I had carried her upstairs into the bedroom, my body pulsing with adrenaline to snap the man’s neck and to rewind time.

              I had seen my fair share of men drunk on power but it never got any easier to handle. Each one of them carried a cruel streak that made them inhuman and unbearable.

              Sofia turned over to her side, away from me.

              She put her hands to her face. “This is my fault,” she said in a muffled voice, thick with aching pain.

              “No,” I said, my heart breaking for her. “This isn’t—”

              She suddenly sat up, whirling around towards me. Her face was red and wet with tears, her blue eyes fierce with accusatory anger.

              “And it’s
your
fault!” she cried angrily. “You stopped me from saving him! You stopped me from rescuing my uncle! I could’ve done something! I could’ve prevented this! But
you
stopped me!”

              “Sofia, this isn’t your fault,” I said calmly and evenly. I wanted to reach for her but I could tell she wasn’t ready for my touch yet.

              She glared at me. “It is and it’s your—”

              “It’s not yours or mine,” I interrupted. “Don’t insult yourself that way. By saying it’s your fault, you’re letting Pryto off the hook. You’re letting his actions seem condonable while yours were inexcusable. He was the one who put you in this dangerous situation. He was the one who forced you into hiding. There is only person responsible for your uncle’s death and that is Pryto.”

              Sofia gave a choked cry at the mention of her uncle’s death. It was still so fresh it hardly seemed real.

              She shook her head. “But I could’ve done
something!
If you hadn’t stopped me, I could’ve done something!”

              “You would’ve broken your uncle’s heart,” I answered honestly. “You would’ve made him watch his only niece die in front of him.”

              “You don’t know that!” Sofia nearly screamed at me. Her fists were balled up and she shook with pain.

              “That broadcast was made ten hours before the forty eight hour deadline the ‘kidnappers’ gave you,” I explained. “Then he changed the narrative to say he ‘rescued’ your uncle from the kidnappers, negating that forty eight hour deadline. Don’t you see? He had no intention of following his own threats. He only made that ransom video to shame and destroy you and your reputation. Then he used Prince Gregory’s execution to bolster his own powers and popularity while also ruining yours.”

              Sofia stared at me as I laid out the facts.

              “Don’t you see?” I said, my voice quieter as my heart ached for her. “He had never planned to do anything except kill you and your uncle. He just wanted to set the best stage for it.”

              “I could’ve negotiated….” Sofia mumbled, clearly unable to lower the burden of guilt.

              I shook my head. “Why do you think your uncle fought so hard to make sure your location remained secret? Don’t you think your uncle wanted peace for Loranza as well? If he had thought any form of negotiation possible, don’t you think he would’ve called you back immediately?”

              I saw Sofia’s face slowly crumble as realization of her uncle’s sacrifice hit her. I continued, wanting to make sure she saw the entire truth so that if it was at all possible, her heartache would be just a little more bearable.

              “He kept you hidden because he knew you were in danger. Even in the ransom video, he made sure to press upon you to not reveal yourself. Every step of the way, he made sure to keep you protected.” I reached out and gently covered Sofia’s fist with my hand. She didn’t jerk away.

              “If you had gone to Loranza or anywhere else and had gotten caught in Pryto’s snares, all of Prince Gregory’s work, all of his efforts to keep his niece and future Queen safe would’ve been for nothing,” I said. “He sacrificed everything to keep you safe. Honor him by not throwing your life away.”

              Aching blue eyes looked up at me. Tears were brimming across her thick lashes. Pain so profound and deep laced her expression.

              “He was the only family I had,” she whispered brokenly. “He was…” tears fell and her voice thickened “….He was all I had.”

              I slid forward and pulled her into my arms, gently curling her towards my chest. She hesitated only a moment before she let herself sink into me.

              I kissed the top of her head fiercely.

              “He was a good man,” I said and I felt Sofia cry out against my chest, hearing my words. “He was a brave man. And I will do everything I can to honor his memory by helping you and protecting you.”

              I pressed another kiss to her head, holding her in close as she sobbed against me.

              “Because you are all
I
have,” I said fiercely.

Chapter
Fifteen
Sofia

              “When do I fly out?” I asked, staring at the computer screen image of Commander Wolffe. My eyes were so swollen from crying that it almost hurt to have them open but I kept my focus.

              “You’ll fly out from a small private airfield near you in an hour. From there, you’ll land at Burbank. There a private jet will be waiting for you to take you to France. The French government have offered to give you asylum while you try and negotiate with Pryto,” the Commander explained.

              Xander sat next to me. Even through the riotous emotions I felt—anger, unbelievable pain, heartache, guilt—it still felt comforting to have him next to me. His very presence seemed to strengthen my own resolve.

              “What about Easy Team?” he asked.

              Commander Wolffe made a disappointed grimace. “Unfortunately, with the Princess’s location being revealed, we cannot interfere in this matter. This is now public, government matters. International matters. Easy Team would not be welcomed.”

              I heard Xander make a grunt of disappointment but he made no other sounds to mark his change of plans. He still intended to accompany me to France.

              Moments after the reports of my uncle’s execution, reports came flooding in about my whereabouts spotted in Wyoming. It would be just a matter of time before reporters flooded the state, which was why we couldn’t go back to the airport that I had tried to escape through. It was too much of a risk.

              But even I was disappointed in hearing that the skilled and powerful Easy Team wouldn’t be accompanying us. After all, a member of the royal family had just been executed publically. It would’ve given me a little more comfort to know I had the strength of Easy Team behind me.

              But Commander Wolffe was right. Most governments would not want to be seen publically endorsing mercenaries. Easy Team would have to lay low this mission.

              “This is definitely not an ideal situation,” Commander Wolffe said. He looked pointedly at the screen, his dark eyes grave and somber. “Your Highness, my condolences for your loss. Your uncle loved you very much and had pressed upon me early on how precious and important you were to him.”

              Tears stung my eyes. It was amazing how I could still have more tears to shed. I felt like I had cried out my body weight in tears.

              “Stay close to Bear,” Commander Wolffe advised. “Your uncle had been wary of even the people of France, worried about infiltrators and spies. And after what’s happened now, I can only imagine the tensions have ramped up.”

              I nodded, fully aware of the dangers I headed towards. I felt like a sacrificial lamb going to the slaughter. Without my uncle now, I wasn’t heading to Loranza to negotiate a hostage rescue. I was now heading over to try and peacefully negotiate an end to this tumultuous revolt for Loranza. In the end, even Uncle Gregory had loved the country and had died hoping for peace to return to Loranza. I couldn’t let that wish go unfulfilled.

              It had been his last words, after all.

              I swallowed hard.

              Xander grabbed my hand under the table. “She’ll stick to me like white on rice,” he promised.

              Commander Wolffe nodded. “I’m sorry we can’t provide more aid or protection. To both of you,” he said. “Like I said, it’s not an ideal situation.”

             
No. It definitely was not.

 

***

 

              “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

              Xander sat across from me in the private jet, his large frame taking up the entire leather seat. He had been looking out the window at the dark night sky as we flew across the Atlantic.

              He looked up in surprise at my question and then smiled. I marveled at the power of his smile. As casual and gentle as it was, it somehow eased the anxious tension within me a bit. It was as if he knew I had only spoken to distract myself from my own inner turmoil.

              “I was thinking how every time I flew across the ocean, it was always in a Blackhawk or a Chinook,” he said with a faint smile on his lips. “I was always armed to the teeth and on the verge of usually dropping right into enemy fire.”

              I gave a small shaky smile as I made a gesture around the luxuriantly decorated private jet. “Feels pretty different then, huh?”

              He locked eyes with me.

              “No,” he replied. “Not really.”

              And I knew he was right. We might be sitting on white leather chairs in a private jet but we were still flying into a warzone with the enemy closing in on us. And there was no guarantee that I would make it on to a return flight.

              But looking at Xander, I could see and feel his support with every fiber of my being. Although he sat in relative ease in his seat, I could see his body sprung and ready for what was to come.

              From nearly the moment I had met him, I had seen Xander as the owner and rancher of Devil’s Horn. He had been casual and easygoing with me and had made my transition into small town life easy.

              But as soon as Commander Wolffe had given us the time and place of our flights, a transformation had taken over Xander. Instantly, his stance had become straighter and exuded something more than authority. It was…experience.

              This was a man who was used to seeing blood and bullets fly.

              His walk took on a more precise and even stride and his eyes became sharper. I was watching a mercenary come out into action.

              Of course, as we boarded the plane, he had boarded under the title of escort. No foreign government would appreciate a princess bringing in a hired mercenary. It sent all the wrong messages for someone going in to peace negotiations.

              And to play the part, Xander had no weapons on him. Although it did feel unnerving to go into battle without any arms, Xander’s presence alone somehow seemed enough.

              “What about you?” Xander suddenly asked. “What are you thinking about?”

              I palmed the armrests of my seat, feeling smooth leather slide against my sweaty, slightly shaky palms.

              I tilted my head a little to the side, eyeing this man that the universe and chance had thrown into my life.

              “I’m thinking about how to tell you I’m sorry,” I answered softly.

              Xander raised a brow in surprised, clearly not expecting that kind of answer.

              “Sorry? For what?”

              I sighed. “Well, two things really,” I said. “I’m sorry I tried to run off on you that day.”

              Xander’s lips twitched. “
Which
day?” he teased.

              I bit my lip, smiling despite myself. I
had
tried to run away quite a few times. “The only day I’m actually sorry for. The day at the airport in Wyoming. I know blowing my cover has just made everything a lot more difficult for a lot more people, including you.”

              Xander shook his head dismissively. “Who could blame you though? You wanted to do your best to rescue you uncle. You acted on pure love and instinct and I can’t blame you for that.”

              I pressed my lips tightly, willing them to stop shaking. I’d been running on fumes now for hours. All my energy had been used up by such intense emotions that all I had left were the ghost fumes of energy.

              “And I’m sorry I got you involved in this,” I finally said. “It’s not your battle and now you are going to war without your comrades or your weapons. I-I’m sorry.”

              Xander stared at me in silence for a beat, making me squirm a little under his gaze.

              “Come here,” he said finally. He opened his arms, gesturing for me to come. I hesitated and he waved his hands at me. “Come here,” he said again.

              I stood up and crossed the small space and stood in front of Xander’s seat. He shifted a little and then pulled me between his legs. A small table stood between our seats and my butt now rested against it as I stood trapped between Xander’s powerful thighs.

              He held my hands as he kept me pinned in front of him. His large capable hands held my own smaller hands. I could feel the smoothness of old callouses and the roughness of new ones from when he worked on the ranch.

              He looked down at our hands as well. I watched as he rubbed his thumbs across my palms, studying the size difference. Truly, in his hands, my own looked delicate and fragile.

              “Don’t be sorry for that,” he said, still looking at our hands. “Don’t ever be sorry for that. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

              He looked up, turning those lethal hazel eyes on me. “Because of you, I’ve realized what it means to truly have a person worth fighting for,” he said, holding my gaze. Even if I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. I was entranced by this powerful, protective, loving man that held my hands. “And that’s something I wouldn’t trade away for anything in this world.”

              He brought my hands up to his lips and kissed each one. “And because I love you, your battles are my battles. Whatever is your fight, is mine. So don’t be sorry. I have all the comrades I need in you, sweetheart.”

              And with that, he pulled me onto his lap and kissed me heatedly, warming me from head to toe and giving me a totally different reason to shiver.

 

***

 

              “Your Majesty, if you will follow me,” an embassy aide said as he led us into the Loranza embassy in Paris.

              The hallway was simply decorated but the ornate archway and columns spoke of the history of the old building. The embassy should’ve been bustling with activity but at the moment it was nearly deserted. I saw a few people in black suits standing guard around entry points but none of the regular embassy employees.

              “Wouldn’t a hotel have been a safer place?” Xander asked, carefully eyeing our surroundings. I could tell he was taking mental pictures of each doorway, each window.

              The aide gave a helpless shrug and said, “Right now, with how much of a high value target Her Majesty is, we would have to evacuate an entire hotel for her to stay in one room. It would be too much of a security risk to have her stay amongst so many people. No hotel would want to risk that kind of danger or scandal, even for a princess.”

              “But the embassy is just as much of a target,” Xander argued. “Are the posted guards French or Loranzian?”

              “French,” the aide replied. “We have done our best to ensure that the embassy has been fully covered.”

              Although it was easier to protect a smaller space like an embassy than a larger space like an entire hotel, clearly the danger was still prevalent. And Xander’s face showed his dissatisfaction with the plans.

              At least hotels were on major roads. Lots of cameras and witnesses around to take note of anything suspicious. Lots of wide roads and corners to run down or cover.

              But the embassy was on a smaller road, tucked away from commercial traffic. There were tons of smaller, winding alleyways and gutters that allowed for people to hide in the shadows. And Xander had no idea who these guards were, what their qualifications or expertise were. As a matter of fact, neither did I. As a guest of France, I had to trust that they would do their best for me.

              “Here we are,” the aide said, gesturing to a large ornate door. “The Ambassador’s suite. I hope they are suitable for Your Majesty. Please, get some rest. I know the flight must’ve been exhausting.”

              He gave a low bow before excusing himself. Xander watched the man go before opening the door and guiding me in, his hand on my lower back.

              The suite was large. There was a cream colored sitting room with two overstuffed sofas and a gleaming walnut coffee table. Connected to the sitting room was a beautifully decorated bedroom that had a large four poster bed that was buffeted by a chaise lounge at the foot.

              It was an impressive suite.

              Xander strode through the rooms, checking the windows and peering behind wardrobes and chests, presumably to check to make sure the room wasn’t bugged.

              I stood by the door, unable to believe I was really here, in France. Tired, emotionally numb, and frightened, I had a hard time I was even standing on my own two feet.

              I suddenly remembered that I wanted to speak to the aide and ask if Uncle Gregory had had any personal aides here in the embassy that could maybe give us clues as to what he had been doing in terms of negotiating.

              I grabbed the doorknob and opened the door but before the door was even half an inch opened, I heard two voices approaching down the hallway. I froze, the door still barely ajar.

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