Unfaded Glory by Sara Arden

she didn’t know how beautiful she was. Maybe he should’ve told her. He’d already complicated things enough as it was.
    Byron grabbed his fatigues and walked naked into the bathroom, where he showered quickly, rinsing the chlorine from the Jacuzzi tub from his skin and hair. He noticed an open bottle on the ledge, and he brought it close so he could smell it.
    Jasmine, just like Damara. He inhaled the scent and closed his eyes, committing the scent along with the memory of her to stone in his mind.
    After he’d dressed in the slacks and shirt he’d had the concierge purchase along with Damara’s clothes, he saw she’d curled up on the chaise.
    After all her talk of being powerful and strong, and after how fierce she’d been fleeing both Tunis and the pirates, she seemed so vulnerable now and very much in need of protection.
    In need of him.
    It wouldn’t hurt to comfort her now, to hold her for a few more hours. He’d trespassed already by being with her. He owed it to Damara to keep her safe, even from himself.
    He sat next to her and put his arm around her slim shoulders.
    She melted into him as if they were two pieces of the same whole.
    Byron couldn’t let himself make that comparison—not now, not ever. He pushed it out of his head.
    â€œEverything is going to be fine, Damara.”
    â€œDo you swear?”
    It seemed like such a little-girl thing for her to ask him. So full of trust and promise, brimming with hope. Byron knew it would be kinder to be honest, but he found he couldn’t. He’d have promised her the moon would taste like peaches if that was what would make her happy.
    â€œI swear.”
    She sighed and leaned her head against his chest, wrinkling his shirt.
    Byron didn’t care about wrinkles. He just wanted her to feel safe.
    â€œI wish you were going with me.”
    â€œI have to stay here. I’ll make sure you get on the plane safely. Then another operative will get you to Renner.”
    â€œI don’t know the other operative,” she said, her voice small.
    â€œYou don’t know me, either.”
    â€œI know enough.”
    The part of him that was infected with guilt wanted to confess to her why she was wrong. It wanted to tell her every bad thing he’d ever done, and it wanted her to hate him for it.
    â€œDon’t trust anyone but yourself, Princess.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    D AMARA MANAGED TO KEEP herself poised and collected until she stood with Byron on the tarmac in front of the steps up to the plane that would take her so many miles away. She knew he had his reasons for maintaining his distance.
    Damara was embarrassed to admit that she wanted him to try to find some way to stay in touch, to write letters, emails, something to acknowledge this thing that had happened between them. If she were being wholly honest, she’d say that she wanted him to decide to stay with her because he needed her, he wanted her.
    She knew it was stupid and childish. She knew that neither of them had fallen in love just because they’d spent the night together. Although she wondered if it hadn’t been the same for him as it had for her. He had no problem saying goodbye, walking away from her. Damara was already reliving the way he’d touched her, how good it felt to be in his arms.
    Looking at him and knowing she’d never see him again did something strange to her insides. It was almost a physical pain. Except, even if he did feel the same way she did, what future could there be for them? She didn’t have to marry royalty, but someday she would return to Castallegna, someday soon, and her place was there, working for democracy and freedom. Fulfilling her duties to her people. The same as Byron Hawkins. His duty was to his country. She tried to imagine him in Castallegna. No matter how she spun it, how outlandish her fantasies were, she just couldn’t see him there. He belonged in this other world of