Renegade (Special Tactical Units Division 3) - Page 45

He was in the prime of life and he couldn’t get fucking laid because Her Highness the Princess Anoushka had taken up residence in his head?

It was like the punch line to a bad joke.

And what if the story she told him this time was true? Forget that. What if it sounded true? What if he believed that her uncle had sold her as if she were a piece of property?

Dec felt a stab of rage in his gut, followed by an immediate sense of calm.

Simple.

He’d have to kill her uncle. Her uncle, and the would-be bridegroom who she said had bought her. Eliminating them would move to the top of his To Do list and he’d need to deal with the planning and the doing, and what that would mean was that he’d lose focus.

He could not permit himself to lose focus.

Getting her to safety was the priority. He needed to be able to think clearly, without emotion, for that to happen. She didn’t want to go back to Qaram? Her business, not his.

His business was contacting Recovery Base, setting up a new extraction location and getting to it. As for her tale of woe about Qaram—no problem. He’d tell his communications liaison that the lady wanted to be taken, well, wherever she wanted to be taken. Paris. London. New York. Hell, Disneyland.

So, no. He didn’t need to hear her story. He didn’t want to hear her story. He wanted to figure out where the fuck they were and then get through to base.

He wanted this to be over.

Annie—the princess—got to her feet.

“If you need to pee,” Dec said, without lifting his gaze from the map, “don’t go very far. Right outside the cave is best.”

“Thank you for that heartwarming advice.”

Okay. That made him look up. What he saw wasn’t good. Her eyes were hot, her mouth was a tight line. He wasn’t particularly good at reading women, this one especially, but even he could tell that the lady wasn’t happy.

“Just trying to be helpful, Your Majesty. You want to risk walking into a wolf or a badger, be my guest.”

“Do not call me that!”

“Sorry. I guess I’m not up on court protocol. Your Highness. How’s that?”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Stop acting as if we’re strangers.”

A muscle knotted in his jaw. “But that’s what we are. Strangers.”

“We aren’t! You can’t pretend we were never—we were never—”

“We were never what? I mean, how would you define our relationship? I thought we were Dec and Annie. Wrong. Turns out we were the fall guy and the princess.”

“You were never that. And I wasn’t a princess. I hate those titles. I always did. I never liked hearing people use them. And with you, especially—”

“With me, especially, you didn’t use a title. I get that. It was part of the act. No title. No demand that I bow in your presence or walk a couple of steps behind you. It was too much fun playing at being a sweet little innocent who was all alone in the world.”

“I wasn’t playing,” Annie said fiercely. “How can you even think such a thing? You know me.”

“I sure as hell know you now. So do us both a favor and keep quiet. I have to do some thinking. You have to keep your strength up.” He jerked his chin at the bandana and the MREs. “No filet mignon or lobster on the menu. Not up to your regal standards, but it’s the best I can do.”

Annie felt the sting of angry tears in the backs of her eyes. “Do you hate me so much?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the simple truth is that I don’t feel anything for you one way or the—”

Tags: Sandra Marton Special Tactical Units Division Romance
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