He laughed again as she felt him find the end of the wire, his fingers slipping slightly onto her bare skin. She tried not to shiver at his touch.
“Here, I have to...” he said, shifting her so that they were sitting even closer together—she was securely between his legs now—as he brought his other hand up to her bra, too. “I can’t find the hole.”
Tasha giggled. She couldn’t help it, and he made an exasperated and disgusted-with-her sound in the back of his throat.
“Sorry,” she said. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. But no, there’s no, um, hole. Yet. But see, it felt to me like the fabric’s thinner over there, so you should be able to, I don’t know, tear it or wear it down with your fingernails...?”
He made an unconvinced sound as he started plucking away at the fabric, adding, “This would be easier if I could see it.”
“The lighter’s in my pocket on that side.”
“Thanks, but we’re sitting in the dark, with no fire, for a reason,” Thomas told her. But then he said, “So when did you start smoking, anyway?”
“Never,” Tasha said. “It’s Ted’s. I carry it so he doesn’t have to.”
“Ted smokes.” He said it flatly, not quite a question but not quite not.
So she answered him. “Weed, on occasion. It really helps his anxiety.”
He laughed at that. “I’m sure it helps his anxiety to have you carrying his lighter and, oh, his marijuana around for him. Do I have that right, or...?”
“Relax, Officer Krupke. It’s not what you think. He’s got a medical card, and when we travel, he only smokes in states where it’s legal.”
“So why does he have to hide it, then?”
“He’s a prince. Princes aren’t allowed to have anxiety—among a long list of other things,” Tasha countered. “But I’m not royalty, so no one really cares about what I do.”
Thomas laughed grimly at that. “Have you googled yourself lately? Maybe not your name but Prince Tedric’s redheaded golddigger?”
She laughed—not grimly. Googling was actually a highly entertaining game she played with Ted and Jeff and Kayla whenever they had dinner together. Who’s Posting Nasty-Ass Made-Up Bullshit About Tasha Today? “Haters gotta hate.”
“It honestly doesn’t bother you.”
“Nope,” she said.
“I cannot get this,” he admitted. “I don’t have all that much when it comes to fingernails.”
“You really can’t tear it?” she asked, turning to try to find his face in the darkness—and realizing that he was right there, his nose and mouth mere inches from her. She quickly turned away again.
“I’m afraid I’ll tear it too much,” he admitted. “I don’t want to ruin it.”
“I really don’t mind if you... want to try to, you know, break the straps.” Tash had almost said, I really don’t mind if you tear it off me, and oh, there was a fantasy she hadn’t realized she longed for, damnit. She had to clear her throat before adding, “It’s gonna be ruined regardless. Think about it. An underwire bra with only one wire? That will create quite the unusual look. The Duchess will remain perky while Rufus will be all downcast and sad.”
His laughter was warm against the back of her neck, and she couldn’t help it. She shivered.
“But meanwhile, you’re freezing with your jacket unzipped,” he said.
“Look, seriously,” she said. “Why don’t you see if you can tear the straps free. Then I can take it off and hand the damn thing to you. It’ll be easier for you get the wire out.”
“But... you’ll be without a bra,” he said.
“True,” she said. “But good news, it’s not a magic bra, so...” She thought about that. “Although maybe that’s bad news. A magic bra, right now, couldn’t hurt. Magic Bra, turn into a helicopter!” She waited, and of course nothing happened. “Nope. Not a magic bra. Somehow I’ll survive without it. You’re good to break the straps.”
“Aren’t they reinforced?” he asked, his hands moving up to her right shoulder, where he found the strap—and a whole lot of her bare skin. Tasha closed her eyes and focused on keeping her breathing from stuttering. “If I were designing a bra...”
He moved around to her back, where the strap connected with the band. He felt his way along the connection and gave it an exploratory tug. “Wow, that’s... not very reinforced. You really want me to...?”
“Please,” she said.
He must’ve understood the powerful urgency in her tone on some level, because he did it. Quickly. Efficiently. He turned her slightly so he could reach the other side of her back, and he did the same to the other strap.
And then he helped her pull her shirt, sweater, and jacket back down before his hands were gone and he backed away.
She instantly missed his solid warmth. Of course, her jacket was still unzipped, which was going to be her next challenge after... She unfastened the front clasp of her bra and pulled it off and out from under her clothes, and went back to keeping it light. “Ta da!”
Thomas, meanwhile was checking on the status of the rocks upon which he’d built their earlier fire, and apparently they were finally cool enough to touch. He set one down beside her, and yeah, the heat it was radiating was nice, but not as nice as his legs had been.
“You need me to...?”
“No, I think I can get the wire out,” Tasha told him, snuggling closer to his rock replacement as she shivered again. She couldn’t quite manage to position her hands right to zip up her jacket, though.
“Here. Let me at least...” He reached over and did it for her. Attaching the two bottom ends of the zipper and pulling it up securely to her chin.
It was such a role-defining move, putting them both securely back into their long-established places—big brother, little sister. Adult and child.
How had Thomas put it?
Hoo-yah.
Yeah.
Chapter Eight
The Admiral’s outer office was teeming with high-ranking officers, all with their hair on fire. But as soon as Admiral Francisco saw Rio and Dave, he beckoned them into his inner chamber and shut the door.
“We’ve lost all contact with Lieutenant King,” the older man said without any greeting or introduction as he limped around to the back of his desk and sat down heavily. “He missed his check-in. His last report was from the airfield near the Ustanzian facility. He and Tasha were on the ground in New Hampshire, about to take a car to the ski lodge, just over the border in Maine, ETA about three hours. They should’ve arrived by now. The Ustanzian royal delegation, however, received what they called a viable threat—as of yet unconnected to the situation in Los Angeles and Tampa, but it’s hard to believe that it’s not. They pulled out of the area—completely—and are in lockdown in an undisclosed location.”
Rio felt his mouth drop open. “The Ustanzians just left them behind—Tasha and Thomas, I mean Lieutenant King, I mean...” He snapped back to attention. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Yup, they just goddamn left them.” Francisco was furious. “Get the poles out of your asses, men, so this assignment doesn’t take all damn day to discuss.”