Chapter 9

NINE

Cooper

The two days after Natalia leaves consist of so much poking, prodding, and testing I would have done almost anything to get out of the hospital. I’m grateful as fuck to be the hell out of Iraq, but this is making me crazy. They want me to rest and heal but wake me up every two hours to take blood, check my blood pressure, feed me, talk to me, or send me for some new test. More than anything, I want to sleep more than a couple of hours at a time. I want a bigger, softer bed. I definitely want better food, and more than all the other things put together, I want Natalia.

I ask when I can get out of here every day, but the doctors aren’t giving me straight answers. I’ve been debriefed and updated on what happened, but no one seems very forthcoming about responding to what happened, and I’m not in a position to get more information. Seghin is already on his way back to the States while I’m trying to get permission to go to Limaj, but it feels like I’m being stonewalled.

“Hey, man.” The knock on the door makes me look up, and I motion for the visitor to come in.

“What’s up?” I hold out my hand to Landon “Grim” Grimshaw, and he shakes it.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m ready to blow this popsicle stand.”

He laughs. “I’ll bet. Heading home or gonna let those ribs heal soaking up some Hawaiian sun?”

I hesitate. “I was thinking of going to Limaj for a few weeks since I can’t get back on active duty anyway.”

He arches a brow. “Limaj? What’s in Limaj? This about a woman?”

“It might be.”

We grin at each other.

“She know you’re a toothless wonder now?”

“She does. And it appears she still likes me.”

“You might want to keep that one.”

“She’s in the Limaji military and probably even more married to her job than I am.”

He pauses. “She one of those Royal Protectors I keep hearing about?”

Though the Royal Protectors aren’t a secret, per se, they try to keep information about themselves minimal. “I’m not supposed to talk about that, but since you know who they are, I assume you can keep anything we talk about to yourself.”

“They’re like the SEALs and Army Rangers all rolled into one, so I’m pretty curious about this woman.”

“You ever meet Lennox Briggs?”

“Oh, yeah. One of the most badass women I ever had the honor of crossing paths with.” He pauses. “Is she one of them?”

“Yup.”

“Damn. I thought she’d just married into that family. Didn’t realize she was a Royal Protector too.”

“That’s how they want it, you know? Which brings us full circle. How do you give up a job like that to come to Hawaii and be a military wife for a guy who’s undoubtedly going to be deployed again.”

Grim nods slowly, his face thoughtful. “You probably don’t. Unless…”

“Unless?” I prompted.

“Unless you move over to NSA and find some European post that’s close to her.”

I knit my brows together suspiciously. “You been talking to Louie?”

“Maybe.” He leans against the wall, his large frame taking up a good part of the small room. “Look, I thought I would be in the military for life, but things change, so there are times when it’s okay to move on. The government’s offerings of alphabet soup are plentiful. CIA, NSA, FBI, it’s endless. And if one of those allows you to get the girl too, it’s got to be win-win.”

“I don’t know if we’re there yet.”

“Then this is the perfect time to find out.”

“Yeah, well, the doctors aren’t releasing me, and I keep getting the runaround about what’s next.”

“Let me talk to a few people. Maybe I can find something out through back channels.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Any time.” He grins and heads out.

* * *

I think about my conversation with Grim the rest of the day and as I toss and turn most of the night. I want to sleep, and I doze on and off, but it’s hard to relax with the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Even in the middle of the night. I slept the night Natalia was with me, but I’ve been out of sorts without her, and it isn’t like me. Normally, I can sleep anywhere, for any reason. But since she left, I’ve been off-kilter. Something is wrong and I can’t put my finger on it.

I’m not na?ve enough to think being captured and tortured hasn’t impacted me, but it’s more than that. And it’s more than having a major hard-on for a certain Limaji brunette whom I think about more than I probably should. For some reason, I’m desperate to get out of here. I feel like a different kind of prisoner and it’s too soon after actually being a prisoner to stay anywhere that has that effect on me.

At some point after they take blood and check my vitals around four in the morning, I fall asleep. The next thing I know, someone has brought me breakfast and I open my eyes with a yawn.

“Good morning.” One of the dozens of doctors I’ve seen since I’d been here smiles at me from over the clipboard in his hands.

“Morning.” I sit up, stretching.

“I understand you’re going to be recuperating in Limaj with the royal family. Must be nice to have friends in high places.” He’s signing sheet after sheet of paper on some kind of clipboard. “Make sure you take it easy, though. You’ll need a lot of rest to heal—both mentally and physically. It’s still pretty cold over there, isn’t it?” He continues to ramble, but I just sip my coffee, wondering what Louie or Grim—or some combination of both—did to make this happen.

Whoever it was, the jet arrives a couple of hours later and I’m on my way not long after that. It’s not a long flight, so I get to the palace in Limaj that night around nine-thirty. I’m exhausted just from sitting on the plane for a few hours and can’t wait to get to bed, even though I’ll never admit it. Those fuckers in Iraq really did a number on me and it pisses me off. I’m alive and healing, but it’s going a lot slower than it ever has before. Of course, I’ve never been captured and tortured before.

Apparently, it makes a difference.

“Hi.” Natalia is standing in the underground garage when we enter, and the driver gets my bag as I limp out of the limousine they sent for me.

“Hey, beautiful.” I lean over and kiss her.

“You look tired.” She reaches out to cup the side of my face. “Let’s get you settled in my room. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” I follow her slowly, hoping I don’t look as lame as I feel.

“A sandwich? Soup?”

“I’d really like a shower first.”

“Done.” She takes my bag from the guy who picked me up at the airport, and that pisses me off. In what universe does the woman in my life carry my bags?

“You were captured, beaten, and tortured,” she says, hitting the button on the elevator. “You were almost killed and we’re both marines—for lack of a better comparison word. So don’t do that macho thing where you get grumpy because your girlfriend is carrying your bag.”

I quirk a brow at her in amusement. “Are you my girlfriend?”

“Well, I can’t think of any other term that’s appropriate, so unless you can, that’s what I’m going with.”

“Works for me.”

The elevator doors open and we step into a wide hallway.

“This is the apartment wing,” she says. “Level four. Level one is the garage. Two is ground level, which is where the kitchens, gym, business and security offices, and conference rooms are. Three is where the staff and employee apartments are, four is where the royal family’s apartments are, and five is penthouses and special events. I’ll give you a tour when you’re a little more rested.”

“Sounds good.” I watch her cool efficiency with a private smile. She’s very at home and confident in her role as a Royal Protector, and it’s interesting to see her in her element. We talked a lot about the palace and the Protectors when we were in Iraq, but seeing it all firsthand is different.

“I’ll get you your own key to my suite,” she says. “It’s small but comfortable.” She unlocks a door at the end of the hall.

We walk in and there’s a decent size bed, two nightstands, a dresser, a desk and chair, a flat-screen TV on the wall, and a comfortable looking recliner by the window. There are other things, like a mini-fridge and microwave, but I’m a bit fixated on the chair. It seems out of place in the otherwise sparsely decorated room, like a personal touch randomly thrown in. Especially since it appears older, worn but in a cozy way.

“You look tired,” Natalia is saying. “Let’s get you settled. Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?”

“Are you going to mother me?”

“For a day,” she replies, laughing as she unlaces her boots and pulls them off. “Tomorrow, you’re on your own.”

“Fair enough.” I sit on the edge of the bed as fatigue suddenly overwhelms me. “Maybe I need a little mothering.”

“You okay?” She’s instantly at my side.

“Getting on a plane took a lot out of me, that’s all. I’ll be okay once I get some sleep.”

“Come on.” She helps me to my feet and leads me into the bathroom. “Do your business, I’ll get your things so you can brush your teeth or whatever. Then I’m ordering you some soup and putting you to bed.”

“I’m just tired, to be honest.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

I use the bathroom and wash my hands and face. She comes in with my toiletry bag as I finish up. Once everything is done, she helps me back to the bed. I manage to get my shirt off and step out of my pants. She’s pulled the covers back and I slide between cool, crisp sheets.

“Sleep, Cooper,” she whispers against my ear.

“You too,” I whisper back.

She crawls in beside me and then I’m out.