Page 139 of Stealth Mission

I drag both my hands through my hair, catching in the tangles. God, I’m a mess. And I’m not talking about the twigs and leaves in my hair.

“Vik, I need to know something.”

He eyes me suspiciously but remains silent.

“Would you let a woman love you?”

A harsh laugh-bark comes out of him. “I’ll let them fuck me.”

I growl and fist my hands. “That was crude. You’re no better than a teenager.”

“None of us are.”

Because I’m exhausted, I hang my head. If my brain gets any more fried it’s going to pour out of my ears. I have no idea why I say this out loud, but I do. “Evan told me he loves me.”

“Poor guy.”

I stomp over to stand in front of Vik. He’s huge. When he looks down, he looks at the top of my head. I seriously consider kicking him in the shin because I just need to do something violent. Only I have a feeling I’d hurt my foot.

“That was rude.”

He looks at me like a statue would until he mutters, “I know what you need.”

I groan. “You’re kidding me.”

“You need to call girl.”

Girl? Huh? Oh. Call girlfriend.

He might be right, but I’m not even sure what I’d say to Mellie. She’d freak out, have a heart attack and charter a flight.

So, no. I’m not calling her. I keep my focus on Vik. “Are you scared to talk about relationships with me?”

He turns somber. “I’m not good.”

“At?”

“Love.”

“How do you know?”

He glances away, drags a hand across his shaved head. “I know.”

Sighing heavily, I pace back and forth in front of him. “I think he’s trying to convince me he’s not good for me.”

“He’s American.”

I stop and rigidly turn to look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He shakes his head like I’m missing a billboard-sized sign. “He lives in America.”

“I know,” I growl. “But he said something about distance, time and money being no object.”

“Lovesick fool.”

“I’m still talking, Vik, and if you’d like your shins to remain unharmed, you might want to listen.”

He smirks at me. “Go on, your Highness.”

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