Her Cowboy Prince - Madeline Ash Page 0,116

around his mouth. “I sent those men to him. I can’t send you to Adam. I can’t do it.”

“It’s not your decision.” Her alarm spiked. “Think about what you’re saying.”

“I know I can be impulsive—”

“Then be sensible—”

“But being near me automatically puts you at risk and I can’t have you here.” His voice was level, alarmingly rational. “Not now. Not until this is over. You’re my future, Frankie.”

“And you’re mine!” She fed her anger with the entitlement of his argument—the infuriating assumption that his desire to protect her trumped her desire to protect him. “I have as much right to be in danger as you. And if you’ve forgotten, it’s my job to protect you.”

He pressed his eyes close and said, “Not anymore.”

Shock shoved her back a step. Those words nocked an arrow in her bones. This would break her. To build enough tension to successfully shoot her to safety, he was going to end up snapping her apart.

Her voice shook as she said, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Pretend all you like.”

“Don’t.” She turned away so abruptly her knee twinged. Her face felt oddly hot from loss of blood. “Don’t be calm when I’m angry.”

She knew that tactic. She’d used it on him the night she’d tackled him. It was the only way he could stay in control and walk away with what he wanted.

And he couldn’t have this.

“Calm is the last thing I’m feeling.” His low voice wavered.

“So, what is this exactly?” It was like he’d lit a match and set her lungs burning. She faced him again. “You’re firing me?”

“Temporarily relocating you.” Regret was heavy on his face, but she tried not to see it. Actions counted. Regret meant nothing. “You used to collect information in the United States for Philip. You’ll do that again until it’s safe to come back.”

“No.” She shook her head as heat gathered in her eyes.

Apology gleamed in his earnest gaze. “I need you to be safe.”

“But you gave me the uniform. I thought—that meant you trusted me with this position.”

That you trusted me with your life.

“I do trust you.” He shoved his sleeves to his elbows. Finally, some agitation. “I don’t trust him. You don’t deserve to play chicken with a murderer. Not for me. Not for my brothers.”

“This job is my worth,” she whispered.

Who would she be without it? A woman with too many regrets and not enough purpose to stem the flow. Drowning in her own past. Kris might think he was saving her, but he’d be the hand that held her under.

His gaze was desolate. “It’s not.”

Yes, it was.

“I fought for this job because I wanted to prove to myself that I’m not screwed up. That I can do the right thing for good people. And I struggled for so long to believe that I deserve to be here, but you—you convinced me that it was true. I believed you and now you’re sending me away.”

His breathing was rough, coming in stops and starts. “Did you take an oath?”

Startled, she tripped over the question. “What?”

“To become a royal guard, did you take an oath?”

She froze.

Every pump, course, and flow hung motionless inside her.

“Yes,” she said.

He crossed his arms and swallowed hard. “What was it?”

“Kris—”

“What was the oath, Frankie?” He took a step toward her. “What did you swear?”

Her body shook. Something huge was caving in on her and she didn’t know how to shield herself. Or if she even could.

Eyes stinging, she forced herself to recite the pledge.

“I, Francesca Grace Cowan, do swear that I will faithfully obey and bear true allegiance to His Majesty King Markus Jaroka, His Heirs and Successors; that I will protect and defend His Majesty, His Heirs and Successors against all enemies; and that with my life and my death, I will remain duty bound.”

Kris stared at her. His eyes glistened.

No. “Please, Kris.”

“Your death?” It was a whisper. “How do you expect me to bear that?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, distressed. “You just have to.” The same way she bore that he would always be a target. That it was possible, despite all security measures, for a threat to take aim and strike true. “You can’t strip me of my position because it’s easier than being scared for me. That’s not fair.” Her voice rose, furious and terrified at once. “You just have to be scared! That’s what it means to love someone.”

“Yeah, and how would you know?” he shot back, and the harshness of his voice slit her

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