Renegade: Special Tactical Units Devision (STUD) Book 3

by Sandra Marton

  “Of course.”

  “Of course?”

  “Remember that little ice cream stand? The one up the beach? Each time we went there you’d read through the list of flavors and then you’d say, “Well, I think I’ll have strawberry…”

  Her words died away. So did her smile and his.

  “Declan,” she said in a shaky whisper, “I’m so sorry. So terribly sorry.”

  Yeah. So was he.

  For a minute there, he’d let his memories take over.

  The long afternoons on the beach. Ice cream cones—vanilla fudge for her, strawberry for him—at a little place the tourists never seemed to find.

  They’d found a lot of places like that, ones that were secrets known only to lovers.

  A coffee shop that they’d decided made the best lattes in the world.

  A tiny cove nobody ever visited except the two of them—and a pod of dolphins.

  A hole-in-the-wall just outside town that served hot dogs with chili.

  Hot dogs with chili? Annie had said the same way someone who’d never read Alice in Wonderland would say A rabbit with a watch?

  Then she’d taken her first bite, rolled her eyes and said Oh my God, Declan, I think I’m in love.

  She’d laughed and he’d laughed—and, fuck, what a bad thing to remember, because what he also remembered was that as he’d watched her dig into the hot dog he’d thought, What about being in love with me?

  And all the time, all the goddamn time, she’d been living a lie so big he could hardly get his head around it, playing a game before she went back to her real life.

  But he wouldn’t mention it, wouldn’t question it, wouldn’t say a word…

  “How could you have lied to me all those months?”

  So much for not saying a word. Even worse, he sounded like a pimply-faced teenager whose girlfriend had tossed him aside for the high school quarterback.

  Yeah. But it was too late to call back what he’d said. What the hell. He might as well go for it.

  “Did you hear me, Annie? Why did you lie to me?”

  That was better. Now he sounded the way he felt. Cold with anger, not numb with pain. This was not the time or place for this. The logical part of him knew that, but did she really think the I’m sorry she’d tossed at him a while ago was going to make him forget what she’d done?

  “I never lied about us,” she said, looking stricken. “About you and me.”

  “There was no you and me. No. Forget that. There was a me. But it turns out there wasn’t really a you.”

  “Declan. You have to believe me. I wanted to tell you…”

  “I’m just a humble little orphan,” he said, his tone a nasty, high-pitched parody of hers.

  “I never said that! You asked about my family. I said my parents were dead. And that was the truth.”

  “Your parents.” He grasped her shoulders. “Interesting that you never mentioned that daddy and mommy were the king and queen of Qaram.”

  “Declan.” She twisted a little under his hands. “You’re hurting me.”

  He probably was. He could feel his fingers digging into her flesh. So what? A little physical pain was nothing compared to what he’d felt all these weeks.

  “And telling me you were Canadian. I suppose that was the truth too.”

  A flush rose in her cheeks. “You asked about my accent.”

  “Right. And you figured, hey, Canada’s only, what, six, seven thousand miles from Qaram? That’s close enough.”

  Tears glittered in her eyes. Did she think that would influence him? Because it wouldn’t. Not anymore.

  “I didn’t want to lie to you!”

  “Then why did you?”

  “I couldn’t—I couldn’t tell you the truth. Not at the beginning, when we first met. And then, after we’d been together for a while—”

  “We were never together,” he said coldly. “You saw to that.”

  He could tell by the little furrow that appeared between her eyebrows that she didn’t understand what he meant. The she got it, and the color in her face deepened.

  “You meant…” Her voice trembled. “You meant everything to me.”

  “Yeah. I bet.”

  “You did! You were my best friend.”

  “Your best friend?” She gasped as he hoisted her to her toes. He was close to being out of control and he knew it, but Christ, he’d had his fill of her lies, of her pretense to be some sweetly innocent young thing. She owed him the truth and it was about time she understood that he wasn’t going to settle for anything less. “Is that what I was when you spent hours lying in my arms? When I kissed you and you moaned and opened your mouth to me? When I held you through those long nights when you wept and wouldn’t tell me why?”

  “It was wrong. I should have told you. I know that now, but you were—I just said, you were my best friend and—and—”

  “Fuck being your best friend,” he growled, and he bent his head and kissed her.

  Not gently. Not tenderly. Not even with compassion for what she’d endured the last few hours and days. He kissed her with pent-up fury at her for what she’d done to him, at himself for not having seen through her from the start…

  And then he tasted salt on her lips and he knew she was crying, and he groaned, cupped her face with his hands and kissed her as he’d dreamed of kissing her all the endless weeks they’d been apart.

  Her response was immediate, and everything he could have wanted.

  She leaned into him, moaned, and gave herself up to his kiss.

  It was the way she’d always responded to him, as if he were the only man she would ever want. It all came back, the memories, the joy and then the pain, the anguish of losing her, and he gathered her in his arms and she put her hands on his chest, slid them to his shoulders…

  The horse whinnied.

  Dec froze.

  He drew Annie’s hands down.

  She opened her eyes and stared at him.

  “Be quiet,” he said in a rasping whisper.

  He could feel his heart pumping as he eased his pistol from its holster. Annie was staring at him, her eyes wide with fear. He motioned her to get down and when she didn’t move fast enough, he put his hand on her shoulder and shoved her to the ground.

  The horse, head up, ears cocked, nickered again.

  Dec scanned the woods around them. Nothing moved or stirred. There were sounds, but they were those that belonged in a forest: the whisper of leaves shifting in the breeze, the call of birds in the branches, the hum of a thousand insects.

  As far as he could tell, everything was as it should have been.

  A deer stepped from the trees ahead. The horse jerked his head up and down as if to say, See? I told you there was something coming.

  Dec let out his breath, holstered the pistol, reached for Annie and brought her to her feet.

  “Just a deer,” he said briskly. “You good to walk?” She nodded and he dumped the wrappers from the energy bars into his pack, swung the pack over his shoulder and set off.

  She fell in behind him.

  “Declan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What we were talking about….”

  “How about concentrating on keeping up with me? The sun won’t be setting for a few more hours, but it’ll be dark in these woods before that.”

  She stumbled. He swung around and steadied her.

  “Declan. Please. I only wanted to say—”

  “Do us both a favor, princess. Just pay attention to where you put your feet.”

  She looked crestfallen. Had he hurt her feelings? So what? Her feelings didn’t matter a damn. And what had just happened, that kiss, would not, could not happen again.

  Keeping the two of them alive was what this was all about.

  And, yes, he was still attracted to her, but attraction, the old male-female thing, was all it was. It was true that he wanted to know why she’d lied to him, but it wasn’t personal. Not anymore…

 
Except, instinct told him that the reason for the lie held the key to what was happening now. She was willing to risk everything rather than return to Qaram.

  Why?

  Yeah, there was her story. That her uncle had kept her prisoner. That he’d sold her to the king of Tharsalonia. It sounded like something out of a bad fairy tale.

  Why would he believe it?

  On the other hand, why spin such a story?

  Never mind.

  Right now, what mattered was finding a way out of this mess. Make camp for the night and then figure out how to get the princess to safety. And yes, he was back to thinking of her by her title. It had been a mistake to think of her any other way.

  And whether he wanted to hear her story or not wasn’t up for grabs. He had to hear it. Was she at risk, the way she claimed, or wasn’t she? The truth would affect what he’d already done, what he did next, what he’d tell Recovery Base.

  Once they got out of these woods and found shelter, he’d interrogate her.

  Meanwhile, he needed to keep his attention on the forest, the mountain…

  The horse.

  The horse was flicking its ears. It was quickening its gait. Dec understood enough horse language to know that meant that something good was ahead. Food? Water?

  Its rightful owner?

  Why take chances? Maybe what the animal sensed was good for horses, but not so good for two people on the run.

  He clucked softly to the horse and tugged on the reins. The animal blew out heavily and came to a stop.

  Annie stumbled into him, then jerked back. “Sorry.”

  Dec didn’t bother answering. She was worn out. So was he. All of them—woman, man, horse—needed a rest.

  He took his binoculars from his pack.

  “What do you see?”

  What he saw was salvation.

  Another few hundred feet and they’d be out of the trees and in that grassy meadow he’d spotted during that last break.

  The horse whinnied. It wanted to get to the paradise just ahead, but experience and training had taught Dec to be cautious.

  He looked at the princess.

  “We’re going to reach open ground in a few minutes. When we do, you’ll stay in the trees with the horse.”

  “Declan.” She hesitated. “What I was telling you before—”

  “Do you understand? You’ll stay hidden until I signal.”

  “Yes. I understand—but—but I want you to know that—that what I said about you being my best friend was—”

  “It was bullshit.” He saw her face whiten. Too bad. “There’s no reason to talk about anything but the reason you don’t want to go back to Qaram.”

  “I told you. My uncle—”

  “I heard you the first time. But you’re a gold medal winner when it comes to lying, Princess. We both know that. And I’m giving you fair warning that I have no intention of bleeding out in the fucking middle of fucking nowhere just because you’re in the mood to spin another fucking fairy tale.”

  That got her attention. The color swept back into her face; her eyes flashed with topaz fire.

  He had never seen her so angry.

  So what?

  He was the one who was angry.

  Hell, he was furious. At her. At himself. At how close he’d come to letting her make a fool of him all over again just a few minutes ago.

  “You have no right to speak to me that way!”

  “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I don’t give a crap about royal protocol.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean! What I’m trying to tell you is that I would never, ever—”

  “Never what? Lie to me?” Dec barked out a laugh. Then he turned his back to her and started walking.

  CHAPTER SIX

  They reached the edge of the forest.

  Tall grass stretched ahead of them, all the way to the rocks and a small pond. The horse tossed its head and snorted. It would have gone forward if Dec hadn’t stopped it.

  “I agree,” he said as he stroked the animal’s neck. “The place looks pretty good to me too. Just give me a couple of minutes to check things out.” He turned to Annie and his tone of voice went from soft to harsh. “Remember what I said. Stay put until I signal.”

  Annie clicked her heels together. “Aye aye, Lieutenant.”

  “Very amusing.”

  “Yessir.”

  Dec’s eyes narrowed. “In case you haven’t figured it out, Princess, this isn’t a game.”

  Her expression darkened. “Do you really think you have to tell me that?”

  No. Probably not. On the other hand, until he had all the pieces of the puzzle he couldn’t be certain about anything.

  “If anything goes wrong,” he said brusquely, “you get on that horse and ride out of here. Understood?”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Dammit, what was this nonsense? Where was the sweet, soft-spoken Annie he’d known in the past? The last thing he needed was to have to deal with a smartass.

  “I hope so, because I sure as shit won’t have time to worry about you. Got that?”

  “Got it,” she said. “Sir.”

  Part of him wanted to tell her she was making him mad, but what for? She already knew that. It was the reason she was taunting him.

  Part of him wanted something entirely different: To haul her into his arms and show her who was in charge here—and what kind of man would that make him? He wasn’t into the me Tarzan, you Jane school of thought, and he sure as hell wasn’t into showing a woman who was in charge by sexually dominating her.

  Although a little domination in bed could be fun, if that was what a man and a woman wanted.

  He had no idea what Annie wanted in bed.

  How could he, when he’d never had her in his bed except to hold her and comfort her with kisses, not with sex.

  Not with his hands clasping hers high above her head, his weight bearing down on her, her legs wrapped around his hips as he lost himself inside her…

  A shudder ripped through him.

  Terrific. All kinds of bad guys were after them and he was standing here with his head up his ass.

  “Take the reins,” he said sharply. “And remember what I said. Stay right here. Do not move until and unless you see me signal. If things go bad, do not, absolutely do not do anything stupid. Just get on the horse and ride for your life. Am I being clear?”

  Her eyes glittered with defiance. “Yessir.”

  He stared at her.

  Idiot that he was, he wanted to kiss her. But he didn’t have to because she stepped up close, rose on her toes, clasped his head with her hands and put her mouth against his.

  Even now, sweaty and dirty, she tasted like honey, just as she always had.

  Even now, with danger all around them, he wanted to gather her against him and take the kiss deeper.

  But she stepped back, and so did he.

  Then she snapped off a salute.

  He wanted to laugh. Or take her down to the ground and make love to her until this little bit of the world spun off into space and shot past the sun.

  For now, the best he could do was cradle his automatic rifle and start moving stealthily out of the trees.

  * * *

  A soft breeze ruffled the knee-high grass.

  Dec took his time making his way through it, every sense on high alert. As a SEAL and then as a STUD, he’d learned to listen as much as look, to be aware of all the sounds around him.

  The sounds here were positive. Bird calls. Insect songs. A good indication that nobody was waiting in ambush. Still, he wasn’t about to take anything for granted.

  By the time he reached the rocky escarpment, he knew they’d found exactly the right place to spend the night. The rocks formed a natural stone wall, solid and impenetrable, that rose at least twenty feet above the ground.

  Quick exploration showed him a bonus. A cave, cut deep into the rock. He checked for signs of life, human or animal. Except for bones that looked as if
they’d been there for years, the area was clear. Outside the cave, there was a stand of young trees with enough downed branches to provide an easy source of kindling and firewood. The pond looked clean, but he had water purification tablets and he intended to use them just to play safe.

  Dec waved Annie in.

  He watched her as she made her way across the meadow.

  Her gait was steady, but as she drew nearer, he could see that her face was flushed with exertion. Her forehead and chin were streaked with dirt. Her camo pants were torn and there was a rip in the sleeve of her sweater.

  She’d been through more bad stuff in a handful of days than most people would face in their lifetimes and no matter how many questions he had, he’d been a goddamn badass in the way he’d dealt with her.

  The least she deserved now was as much of a meal as he could manage and a night’s rest. His interrogation could wait until morning.

  He walked through the meadow to meet her.

  “You okay?” he said.

  She nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Dec took the horse’s reins from her and as they headed towards the rocks he thought about the women he knew, especially the ones who hung out at the Landing Zone in hopes of hooking up with guys from the Units. The blonde, for instance, the one he’d brought home with him only—what was it? One day ago? Two days ago?

  He’d lost touch with real-world time.

  The blonde and the others like her were all the same.

  Crop tops and tiny skirts. Nosebleed stilettos. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup.

  Perfect availability.

  A few beers. A little light banter. Some time on the dance floor. Next stop, bed.

  He’d never been much on overnights. Bring a woman home, fine. Do your thing, smile, put her into a taxi or drive her home if she hadn’t brought her own car. Take her to her place, that was fine too. Simpler, actually. You could always check your watch, say it was getting late and then you were gone.

  The key was not to let things drag on or you could find yourself facing the I’m-gonna-make-you-breakfast routine, that pseudo-domestic intimacy he wanted no part of.

  Not that he was a complete boor.

  He liked women. He had no wish to hurt their feelings. He was always polite. Sometimes, he sent flowers the next day, but the big thing was getting on with his life.