Page 37 of Cooper

“They weren’t. They don’t say no to the money I deposit into their account every month, though.”

“What about your sisters?” She told me she has two.

“Femke is eighteen and considering joining the military as well. She wants to get the hell out of there, but my mother is doing everything in her power to talk her out of it. She has a boyfriend now, someone my parents consider husband material, and she’s in love. It’s hard.”

I nod. “And the other one?”

“Luciana is married with a two-year-old. Her husband hits her. She’s miserable but won’t admit it to anyone but me. Last time I was home was right before I left for Iraq and, of course, I’d just lost Logan so I wasn’t in a good head space. She had a black eye, and I threw Pieter against the wall, told him if I found out he hit her again, I’d send my Royal Protector friends to find him.” She makes a face. “Luciana was furious, so I don’t know if I made it better or worse.”

“Is that kind of thing common here?”

“Not in the big cities, but in the little towns? Absolutely. It’s difficult. There’s nothing to do. Very little money. Almost no communication with the outside world. Most homes don’t have internet, they have to go to the library or an internet café so their connection to reality is limited. Frustration builds and they have no outlet. Alcoholism is at an all-time high. Erik is trying, but infrastructure takes time. Building roads to those remote places so that there are easier paths in and out. He can build schools, but schools need teachers, and there aren’t enough educated people to do it. Nor do people want to live way the hell up there. Same situation with medical care. You can build a hospital, but who will work there?”

“I never thought of things like that,” I admit.

“Do you see now why I feel like what I’m doing is so important? It’s not like what you do. And please don’t think I’m minimizing your life. You’re in the military, and that’s wonderful. In theory, you are protecting American ideals, perhaps even your democracy, but it’s theoretical. Other than the men you serve with, you’re not helping specific people. It’s all about a way of life. What I’m doing literally impacts my family. My home town. People I know. When he adds another fifty miles to a highway, we have a party. When he provides running water to a town that’s never had it, we all go help them celebrate. Everything Erik is doing impacts specific people, many of them either people I know or friends or family of people I know.

“If Erik is killed, who knows what might happen or if Sandor or Daniil could continue his work. So protecting him, and allowing him to continue what he does, means something to me.”

Damn.

I suddenly feel a little small.

Not because I’m ashamed of myself or the military, but because of just how impactful what she just said is.

And she’s right.

For the most part—there are exceptions—the reasons behind what I do are very theoretical. We do help people all over the world, but the protection of American democracy is different. We don’t see it in tangible ways. At least, not the way she does. We have similar problems in rural places in the U.S. but my job in the marines has nothing to do with that. Her job, protecting a king who’s affecting change, is pretty damn badass.

“I think you’re amazing,” I say after a moment. “I know in my head what the Protectors do, but no one ever spelled it out quite like that before. And I’m impressed.”

She dips her head almost shyly. “Thank you.”

“I mean it. You’re a special woman. Strong and courageous on the outside, sweet and vulnerable on the inside. Fucking incredible.” I meet her gaze, and the air sizzles with tension.

Sexual, romantic, a little of everything.

The spark has been here since the beginning, but it turned up to eleven after I fucked her in that storage locker.

I’m frustrated by the limitations of my body right now, even though I know it’s only temporary. I want so badly to throw her on the bed and make her scream my name. Tie her hands to that headboard and watch her squirm and wiggle, begging me to let her come.

Doing it would be reckless, though, and I’m many things but stupid isn’t one of them. If I try to do too much too soon, it’ll probably cause a setback and that’s the last thing I need.

Although… as I think about it.

The longer it takes me to heal, the longer I can spend here.

And not just because I’m crazy about this badass woman sitting across from me. I’m also fascinated by the Royal Protectors, King Erik, and the life here at the palace. The Royal Protectors are at least fifty percent American, and in my heart, I know there’s more to this job than just the money.

For Natalia, it’s personal, but the others aren’t from here. Xander and Lennox and Axel and Jonas and Ace are all American and former military. Casey is American. One of the Royal Protectors who’s still in training is Canadian, a former professional hockey player, and his wife is a Scottish physicist. Ace’s wife is also American and a teacher, and they moved here as well.

There is something that sucks all these people in, and I’m really curious as to what it is.

I want to stay as long as possible because of Natalia, but it also has occurred to me the Royal Protectors might be what I want to do next.

I just need the time to figure it out.

I’m just about to tell her that when her phone goes off, a loud shrill sound unlike any other I’ve heard before.

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