Into His Command (34 page)

In the meantime, if only for a few minutes, I needed some fresh air.

“Are you all right, dear? Not a bite of your dessert is gone.”

Xaria’s prompt tugged my gaze back down. Surprise, surprise; my exhausted-but-you’ll-never-know-it
smile came right back. “Of course,” I murmured. “Just needing some air. I’ve been
inside all day. I’m going to take a few minutes in the gardens.”

She nodded. “But of course. Do not stay out too long, though. The night winds off
the sea can be punishing on one’s skin.”

“Will do.” There was no point in stating the obvious. The night winds in the mountains
were five times worse than the breezes down here.

I caught Syn’s eye long enough to point toward the door, informing him where I’d be.
With any luck his call was a quick one, and I’d soon be letting his stubble “punish”
my skin along with the sea air.

I’d made a good call. Pore wrecker or not, the briny blast off the Mediterranean was
the perfect cleanser for my sanity, and I told it so with a sublime sigh as soon as
I stepped onto the garden deck—

Invaded by a stunned grunt, as soon as I attempted to walk one of the pathways to
the fountain. Even packed dirt wasn’t a worthy foe for my tapered heels, caked with
the stuff into which they’d sunk.

“Well…shit.” My mutter was carried away at once by the wind, proving to be my friend
in more than one way tonight.
Go ahead
, it seemed to say.
Let me have another.
Well, if we were playing
that
way…

“High-fashion fuckers,” I mumbled, yanking off the shoes. The wind rasped in agreement.

“Holy mother of fuck.” Not as original but damn accurate, especially as it spilled
on my orgasmic moan. After ten hours in the heels, sinking my bare feet into the cool
grass qualified as a sexual experience.

“Fuck yes…fuck yes…fuuuuck yesssss…”

I broke off into a giggle. Guess I’d needed a break for my favorite slang as much
as the fresh air.

I curled toes into the turf as my stare lifted to the sky. The tops of the cypresses
swayed like ballerinas against the stars, making me hum a snippet of Mendelssohn as
I walked. After each bar, I yanked a pin free from my hair. Soon, it filled with the
breeze too. This was good.
So
good. I’d needed this reverie about, oh, nine hours ago.

“Well, look who’s smiling.”

I jumped.

Nearly out of my skin.

The disruption hadn’t been Samsyn’s. Instinct already told me that. My body always
kicked into hyperawareness when he was around. Now I recognized that like everything
else between us, that sensitivity had gone supersonic—especially now, in its absence.

At least I could stand down on the ready pose. My shoulders fell by two inches as
I slackened my posture and freed relieved air. “Sneaking
soldask
! What the hell, Jag?”

“Nice to see you too.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the phone with your commander?”

“Why is that?” He approached on steps as even as his tone. He was dressed for duty,
black cargo pants over a black T-shirt highlighting his lean but ripped frame. Jag
had been recruited by Syn right off a Tahreuse alley, where he’d been fighting the
world in one form or another since the age of twelve, when he’d decided the streets
were a better gamble than alcoholic parents. That edge seemed more prominent in him
tonight. Not a shock. Everyone would be more on their guard until they’d tracked and
captured the two remaining men from the break-in on Evrest and Cam’s quarters.

“We were at dinner,” I explained. “Then Syn’s phone rang with impeccable timing. Naturally,
I thought it was you.”

“Timing?” he echoed. “Impeccable? Me?”

“Shut up.” I socked him in the shoulder.

“No. Seriously. Tell me what I supposedly interrupted. Was there something fun going
on? Was Ardent ‘tasting’ Xaria for dessert?”

“Shut
up
!” With a laugh, I moved to punch his other shoulder—with my left arm. “Damn.
Damn
!”

Stars of agony. Grimaces, fighting it. Jag steadied me until the dizziness passed.
When I nodded, able to move again, he guided me to one of the benches near the fountain.
The wind kicked higher, turning some of the cascading water into a fine spray. I angled
my face into them. The cold pricks of moisture felt wonderful.

“Shit.” Jagger hung on to my right elbow. His other hand wrapped to my nape and rubbed
gently. “Are you okay?”

“It’ll pass.” I hiked up my skirt, dipped my head between my legs, and waited for
the tidal wave of nausea to roll by. With my good arm, I jabbed an elbow back at him.
“I blame you, dirty Foxx. You mentioned Ardent and Xaria…like
that
…and—oh God—”

“Wait.” His hand stilled. “You…you know?”

“
You
know?” I pushed back my hair to get a good stare at him. “How?”

He flashed a wry smile. “Part of the job, Badger girl. Anyone who has served close
to the royals knows.”

“But Evrest, Shiraz, and Jayde don’t.” I huffed in response to his businesslike nod.
“How is that even possible?”

“By Samsyn’s decree, that is how.”

I frowned. “I get that, but don’t get it. It’s understandable that he won’t call his
parents out and publically ruin the family honor, but why does he shoulder the secret
entirely by himself? Why won’t he let his own siblings help?”

He turned his head, looking up at the fountain. When the wind kicked up again, water
droplets alighted in his light copper stubble. “Who says they would believe him? And
if they did, would that change anything? Is it not easier to appear as one happy,
loving family, if a good portion of the participants are not acting?”

I thumped backward into the bench, feeling decked in the chest. “So Syn keeps force-feeding
everyone a steady diet of dysfunctional, while he barely trusts his own shadow.”

“Annnnd, welcome to your new family.”

“Gawd.” I let my head fall back. “But I’m just here on the visitor’s pass. I’m not
the miracle surgeon on this one, right?”

When Jag said nothing, I lifted my head. Found his own cocked at me, a new sheen in
his bronze eyes. “Do you want to be?”

Strangely, my heart pumped hard against my ribs—as a single word blared across my
brain.

Busted
.

“You know how I feel about him, Jag.”

A lie. Jagger knew how I
used
to feel. He’d seen my girlhood crush then my silly infatuation, given a positive
spin by my dedication to fight training. Somewhere along the line, it became evident
I was good at it. I understood it, honored it, and used the mental preparedness behind
it to understand Samsyn better. And while it had all helped, it also hadn’t been necessary.
My heart, my soul, my spirit, my body…were destined to love Samsyn Cimarron. Reciprocation
was unimportant—and irrelevant. It didn’t, nor wouldn’t, notch the compass of what
I’d been brought to this island to do.

Love him. Period.

For right here, for right now, I’d do it in person—and be grateful for every touch,
every kiss, every magnificent moment in which fate had given me to do it. And once
we pulled off the rings and I moved back to Tahreuse, I’d do it from afar—and be grateful
for all those moments too.

“Brooke…”

I held up a hand. “No. Don’t say it. You never have, Jagger. Please.
Don’t
.”

“I never have, because—”

“Because I’ve never been married to him?”

“A sham!”

His rasp was so violent, my jaw fell open for a second. I recovered by swallowing
hard—and leaning away. The gleam in his eyes wasn’t so friendly anymore.

What the hell was this? What was he getting at?

“He spoke those vows to you—
lied
those vows to you—as a tactical move, Brooke. A public relations necessity—”

“A sacrifice for his country!”

I bolted to my feet. He did too. Wasted no time rushing in my wake as I spun and headed
back across the grass toward my discarded shoes.

“A
sacrifice
.” He caught me by my good hand, vising it inside his. “Marrying
you
should not be a fucking sacrifice.” He braced his other hand to my face. His breath
punched from him in harsh bursts. “A gift. That is what it should be. Brooke Allison
Valen…
you
are a gift.”

Insight. Me. Collision.

Dread. Regret. Carnage.

“Crap,” I finally choked. “Crap, crap, crap. Jag. Ohhhh, Jag.”

I shook my head, lost about how to do this. He’d been such a good friend. Had kicked
my ass when I’d needed it. Had hugged me when I’d needed it. Had simply
been there
when I’d needed it. Now, was I really going to boot him in the ribs for his feelings?
Feelings I’d known
nothing
about. And I thought
I’d
been good about keeping things on the down-low about
Syn
…

There had to be a kinder way. I scoured my mind and heart for it. Even prayed for
it.

“Dammit, Brooke. You deserve more than what he can give!”

“Jagger.” I twisted my hand free. He simply shifted his hold to my waist. “
Jagger
. I don’t have a choice.” I drew in a huge breath. Here went nothing. “I’m in love
with him.”

He circled his grip tighter. “And I’m in love w—”

“
No
. Don’t say it, dammit. Don’t!”

His stare turned to twin blazes. A determined tick vibrated in his jaw. “Then I shall
show you instead.”

I was still thrown so far from the blast of his first bomb, I didn’t see the second
incoming—

Until it was too late.

Until he funneled his hand into my wind-tossed hair, pulled my face up to his, and
took my mouth in a hard, consuming kiss.

‡

S
hit.

Holy shit
.

I should’ve just drop-kicked him.

Instead, short of kneeing his balls, I had to struggle against the lock of his mouth,
the press of his body, the tenacity of his desire—

None of which he planned on letting up soon—

“Jagger!” I panted it inches from his mouth—the only space he allowed me. “Are you
fucking insane?”

“Maybe.” He muttered it like a distraction, lips barely moving. All the movement belonged
to his eyes, feverish and lusty—and his hands, hot and groping. “Probably. But only
because I did not tell you sooner. Because I was waiting for you to get over that
ridiculous moping over
him.
”

“
Him
.” I threw it back from locked teeth. “That’s right, dammit. The man I’m married to
now. Your leader, Jag. Your
friend
.”

Who knew I could throw kerosene on a fire so well? He was ignited, baring teeth in
a feral seethe—before slamming our mouths together again. This time, he wasn’t so
merciful about letting me up. He gripped my head with one hand and my ass with the
other, damn near locking me in place. When I finally tore free, I panted in a mixture
of fury, desperation, and a little fear.

“Jagger! Please!”

My blood was a heated roar in my head. The wind was a sudden chill against my skin.
Between the two, I shouldn’t have heard the sharp cracks of a single man’s applause—but
I did, with nauseating clarity.

Just as my senses awakened to the presence of the man wielding them.

Just before he growled, in a seethe that froze me to the core, “Damn. You are so breathtaking
when you beg,
astremé
.”

I twisted in Jag’s grip—but not before catching his gloating smirk. Rage hit like
a fireball. Mentally ripping up my medical orders, I coiled back then clocked him
beneath the jaw. Once more into his nose. He barely flinched from either blow, but
his hold loosened. I wrenched away, letting my glare speak for me. I could barely
stand looking at him, let alone wasting words. Those I saved for the man who
did
matter.

“Samsyn!”

Samsyn.

Oh God…

No.

He’d already whirled, stomps consuming the ground like a battle march.

“Samsyn
!”

He flung back an arm like a muscled spear, aiming straight at me with his outstretched
fingers, his message clear.
Do not come near me.

I was very,
very
shitty about letting things go.

Especially when it came to Samsyn Cimarron.

Especially when he walked away with the pieces of my heart in one hand. And the pieces
of his in the other.

Because of nothing.
Nothing
!

And he’s going to believe that…how
?

“Because I’m going to make him.” I uttered it like a blood oath—in my mind, there
was no difference—before racing across the grass, over the paths, and catching the
door he’d attempted to slam in my face. The impact reverberated along my right arm,
but right now, someone could’ve hacked the damn thing off and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Or cared. All that mattered was getting to Syn. Explaining this all to him with a
semblance of rationality.

I’d almost thought about dragging Jag in here to help, but wisely mapped out that
lovely scenario in my head, and determined I wanted them both alive after this. Nope;
Jag wasn’t going to be a fucking sliver of help.