Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

Cooper

“Cooper.”

Joe calls to me, and I look up from where I’m monitoring the perimeter of the palace grounds. There’s a lot to keep up with in here so I stay pretty focused. This is my third day taking a shift for Joe, allowing him to take an actual duty shift, and it’s a good way for me to ease into things. Plus I like being useful. Especially since Sandor has already put me on the payroll, so at the moment I’m double dipping.

“Yeah, boss?”

“How’s it going? Do you need anything?”

“No, I—” Movement in the trees draws my attention, and I squint at the monitor, snapping back into focus.

Dammit.

What did I just see?

I scan all the monitors, but now there’s nothing.

Did I imagine it?

No.

I’m too detail-oriented for that.

“What is it?” Joe asks.

“Movement in the trees close to Location 47. There’s nothing actively happening but I saw something. Maybe an animal, but movement of some kind.”

“Let me send a few guards.”

Jesus, not again.

I’m starting to feel paranoid, especially since I can’t go out there myself.

I hate essentially being relegated to desk duty, but I understand they want me to be completely healed before letting me do anything strenuous. I don’t like it, but I understand it. I want to say I’m up to the task, but I’m not used to taking my time on anything. I want to make things happen quickly.

I drum my fingers on the desk, watching as Sandor stalks across the garden into the woods. Joe left and is moving along the side of the palace, and I see Lennox slip out the servants’ entrance.

Okay, good.

I know Natalia is with Casey, Erik’s in his office with Jonas watching all the entry points to that floor, and Xander, Daniil, and Marcus are all off-site today at Parliament House.

Not knowing is driving me crazy, but I don’t dare leave my post monitoring everything. I can see what’s happening and everything seems calm.

“We got him!” I hear Sandor grunt into my earpiece.

There’s a shuffling sound and then it goes quiet.

“Let’s get him inside.” That’s Joe’s voice.

I realize my heart is beating triple time.

I really fucking hate not being in the action.

All I can do now is wait.

And hope they’ve got it handled.

* * *

“You want to watch the interrogation?”

The sound of Joe’s voice twenty minutes later jolts me to my feet. “Yes. Fuck yes.”

“Come on. We’ll monitor everything remotely on my laptop from the dungeon.”

“Is it really a dungeon?” I ask curiously.

He chuckles. “This place has been around since 1167. The dungeon, though reinforced by modern architecture, is still mostly original. Sandor left it that way on purpose. It scares the crap out of people when they see the medieval items of torture on the walls. We don’t use them—we stick to contemporary methods of interrogation—but it’s fun to freak them out.”

I grimace. “Jesus.”

We go down what has to be four flights of stairs and he’s not kidding about medieval torture devices. There are things on the walls I’ve only seen in pictures, and a handful I can’t even name.

I’m not easily scared, but I’d definitely be nervous if someone brought me down here. It makes me a little grateful I’d only been tortured by words and fists.

I push my own past to the back of my mind as we enter a small anteroom. There’s two-way glass so we can see into the chamber, but our captive—and ostensibly Sandor, who’s in there with him—can’t see us.

“What happened?” Erik demands, coming in a few seconds later.

Joe nods in my direction. “Our Protector-wannabe spotted something in the woods. He let Lennox know and the guards caught the guy.”

“What do we know?” I ask.

“Nothing yet.” Joe shakes his head. “Only that he seems to speak Arabic. Sandor and I speak a little, but not enough to have a real interrogation.”

“My Arabic is rusty,” Erik admits.

“I only recognize a handful of words,” I say. “Mostly curse words and food.”

“We’ve got translation apps on our phones,” Joe says. “One way or another, we’ll find out why he’s here.”

“What if he won’t talk?” I ask quietly. “What’s the protocol?”

“I don’t believe in that kind of torture,” Erik says, “but he’ll go to a prison where we’ll throw away the key. After a month or two in that kind of hell, he’ll wish we’d killed him. At that point, they’re usually begging to talk. It’s not expedient, but almost always effective.”

I stare into the room, taking in the man now shackled to a metal chair.

There’s something vaguely familiar about him but it’s hard to tell under the long hair and beard.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something, but it doesn’t make sense that I might know the guy.

“Thank you,” Erik says quietly, coming to stand next to me. “I appreciate your diligence today.”

“I’m sure one of the guards would have seen him.”

“But they didn’t. You did. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I say the words and actually mean them.

It feels good to have thwarted what was almost definitely going to be another attack. I wasn’t physically responsible for catching him, but I spotted him and got the ball rolling.

This is what it feels like to be a Royal Protector.

And now I’m more confused than ever.

There’s a pull here that gets stronger every day.

I just wish this was an easier decision to make.

* * *

Natalia gets back early, just before five, but it’s seven before we regroup in our room. I see a handful of shopping bags near the closet, and though I’m dying to know what she bought, I figure I should ask before I go snooping through them.

“Buy me anything?” I ask casually.

“Maybe.” She smirks. “But dinner first.”

“Already handled. It’ll be here in ten minutes. Just enough time to show me what you bought.”

“Some of it is a surprise, but I got some new jeans that are cute, with rhinestones on the pockets and the cuffs.” She pulls them out of a bag and holds them up.

They’re just jeans, but I bet they’re going to fit her like a glove.

Which heats up my nether regions.

Our sex life is amazing, but we’re both tired by the end of the day. It’s not that there’s no interest, but I’m still not back to a hundred percent and she’s been sitting up late helping me study the book of protocol, procedures, and drills. By the time we’re done with that, neither of us is up for much of anything but sleep. We’ve talked about it, though, and we’re on the same page, so I don’t feel like either of us is neglecting the other’s needs.

Until now.

Watching her wiggle into this skintight pair of jeans that makes her ass look fully edible.

“Jesus, baby.” I run my hand over my crotch. “What are you doing to me?”

She chuckles. “You like?”

“Why don’t you come over here and let me show you?”

“Less than ten minutes until dinner arrives. Besides, I have more to show you.” She wriggles out of the jeans and tosses them to the side. Then she scoops a handful of silky material out of the bag and stuffs it in a drawer. “That’s for another time—and don’t you dare peek when I’m not here. Because I’ll know .”

I laugh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But this, well…” She takes out something red, fabric spilling over her hands. “You have to close your eyes.”

“How come?” I pretend to pout. “You’re already mostly naked.”

“Please?”

“Okay.” I close my eyes, and though I want to peek, I can appreciate her need to surprise me with the full look.

Except I’m in no way prepared for my girl wearing the sexiest, slinkiest, silkiest red dress I’ve ever seen. You’ve heard of a little black dress? This takes the black dress, raises it to red, and gives you the ultimate full-house hard-on.

“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe. “There’s no way in hell we’re going anywhere when you wear that dress—because I’ll spend the whole night fighting men off of you.”

She sashays in my direction, using the insides of her arms to squeeze her breasts together, giving me the most incredible view of her cleavage.

“Challenge accepted,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss me.

Her hair spills over us and our tongues tangle with greedy pulls that leave us both breathless. I skim my hand over the curve of her ass, giving a nice squeeze before slapping it.

“Dammit, woman. Dinner will be here—” There’s a knock on the door, and I quickly untuck my T-shirt as I get up to cover the offending part of me. The maids and cooks work hard; no reason for me to potentially embarrass anyone.

“Sit,” she says. “I’m more decent than you.”

She swings over and opens the door, thanking Rosalie and then quickly closing it behind her.

“Now. Where were we?”

“You were about to step out of that dress.”

“Was I?” She steps out of my reach, and while I can obviously chase her, she seems to have a different type of game in mind.

“More stuff to try on?”

“Yes.” She pulls out something else red, but this isn’t clothing.

Oh, shit.

She bought matching heels.

Does she know how much I love really high heels?

I should tell her.

“Baby, I…” My voice trails as she spins around.

“I wanted to put them on together but decided we’d do it in phases.”

“O-okay.” I can barely breathe, she’s that beautiful.

She digs into the bag again and takes out a little box. Her back is to me, so I can’t see what she’s doing until she fastens something behind her neck.

Jewelry.

Fuck.

I want to buy her jewelry.

It’s not like I can’t afford it.

Maybe not massive diamonds, but I can still buy her things.

Why haven’t I?

I know it’s unrealistic considering how little time we’ve been together and everything going on since I got here, but I definitely haven’t been spoiling her the way I should be.

When she turns, I swallow.

There’s a long, gold chain around her neck and a red-colored stone—that matches the dress—is now nestled in her cleavage.

I let out a low whistle.

“You’re killing me,” I say quietly.

“I’ve never been able to afford things like this,” she admits. “And I’ve also never been overly girlie. But I want to be.”

“You only need to be you,” I reply, “but I like this too.”

“Do you?” She seems momentarily unsure. “You’re falling for a tomboy who’s building muscle, not a diva in a red dress.”

“I’m falling for a strong, beautiful, diverse woman who can be more than one thing at any one time. Tough and beautiful, focused and vulnerable, resilient and insecure… you can be those things, baby, and I love them all.”

She slowly walks toward me again. “I like being vulnerable with you. And when you say I’m beautiful.”

“I’ll never stop telling you how beautiful you are.” I reach out a hand, and she takes it, letting me pull her onto my lap. “And now I’m going to show you.”