Rio shot him a WTF look. “Jesus, God, no, I’m definitely not. In fact, that’s the dead last place I’d ever secretly plan to go, thanks so much.”
Officer Candidate School. God damn. He’d barely survived community college, only pushing through because he knew that without that basic undergrad degree, his chances of getting into the BUD/S program were slim-to-none.
OCS, his shiny ass. The big prize upon enduring that hellscape was to emerge as a newly minted officer, with endless paperwork and report-writing bullshittery clogging up his pathetically desk-driven day.
“You’ll be a great admiral,” Dave insisted.
Rio scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. Why stop there? You stay in long enough, you could be the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Admiral Rio Rosetti is in the house!” He grinned at Rio. “TheWhiteHouse.”
Rio rolled his eyes and loudly changed the subject. “ETA to Queen Wila’s little ski lodge?”
“Thirty-nine hours, assuming that the roads remain clear, Admiral Rosetti, sir.”
Rio shook his head. “Dave, knock it off, you’re wearing me out.” But then he realized, as his teammate checked yet again for new messages, that having a conversation wouldn’t just help him stay awake while he was driving—it would help Dave out a little, too. “So, areyousecretly planning to go to OCS? I wanna hear more about this seven-year plan...”
* * *
“Should we be worried?” Tasha broke the silence to ask.
They’d been hiking for hours. They’d long since crested the mountain, and were heading back down the other side, which was a different kind of hard from hiking up a trail. The muscles in the backs of her legs were screaming, and she had a ginormous blister on her foot.
She wouldn’t dare complain—Thomas was doing this without proper footwear—although, damn, she was hungry, thirsty, and a freakish mix of both sweaty and cold.
As he glanced over, she saw him weighing his words before answering her, and she braced herself for some attempt at humor or distraction.About climate change? Absolutely.
Instead, he said, “Iama little worried, yeah. I’d expected Uncle Navy’s rescue team to be here by now.”
“So... we’re heading to the ski lodge, then.” She guessed correctly, because he nodded. “Will we make it before nightfall?”
“If we can keep up this pace,” Thomas said, “we should arrive just in time for the Queen’s Tea.”
“You’ve done your homework on Ustanzia,” Tash said.
“TypeQueen Wilainto Google, and one of the first things that comes up isQueen Wila’s Tea. She’s unflinchingly consistent in her need for afternoon caffeine.”
“It’s not the caffeine,” Tasha told him. “Ted says she drinks chamomile. Or sometimes just hot water with lemon. You know, Tea is strictly immediate-family-only, no exceptions. I hope they don’t make us wait outside.”
“If they do, you may want to rethink this whole Ted thing,” he said.
Believe me,I already am.She didn’t say it aloud, but God, she was thinking it so hard it was echoing inside of her head. Of course, his idea ofthe Ted thingwas vastly different from the reality.
She also didn’t say,So. Teenaged fantasy unlocked—we finally slept together.Although last night had been a thirteen-year-old’s-fantasy of sleeping together rather than the racier eighteen-year-old version. Thomas’s touch had been about as impersonal as he could manage. His goal had clearly been to keep her warm, period.
But oh, a woman could dream.
After he’d carefully arranged himself around her, then covered them with brush, Tasha had thought that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. The tension had been so damn high and weird. The warmth of his breath on the top of her head, the heavy weight of his arm around her ribs, his broad chest against her back, his knees tucked up behind hers, his solid thighs closer to her than the seat of a very comfortable chair...
Despite the fact that she’d spent considerable time fantasizing this exact scenario—through the darkness of the night, they huddled intimately close together, body against body, sharing warmth with every wild heartbeat—she couldn’t bring herself to make a move.
She couldn’t even make herself speak:What are you thinking, because frankly,I’mthinking about that bullshit I forced you to shovel your way out of when I climbed into your bed that stupid night, then puked all over your bathroom floor. I’m so sorry I disrespected you like that. I promise I won’t make the same mistake again, but if you ever change your mind about you and me, please let me know.
Instead, last night, she’d somehow fallen asleep. In doing so, she gave herself the gift of waking up in Thomas’s arms.
It felt as good as she’d always dreamed.
Now, as they continued their awkward scramble down this mountainside, she said, “Imagine, pretty much out of nowhere, your brother and father are both dead, and you’re suddenly the queen. Everyone and their hanger-on cousin is demanding a piece of you. Important meetings, lunches, dinners are now mostly obligations and public events—and most of the time you and your husband are forced to go in separate directions. I think it was a genius move on Queen Wila’s part—establishing the ritual of afternoon tea, immediate royal family only.Bite me, Uncle Hendrake. I mean, she didn’t say it, but shesaidit. Tea became her red-M&Ms-only diva demand, and most people didn’t get it. But Ted told me when he and Sebastian were younger, Tea was the only time in their day—usually only about twenty minutes when things were crazy-busy—that they got to see their parents. Now they’re older and out of the, you know, castle, but the family still uses it to reconnect.” She shook her head. “Not just that, but it’s their only chance to be completely safe. Or at least it was.” Okay, don’t go there.
