Unfaded Glory by Sara Arden Page A

blood, danger and intrigue. Not pretty manners, state affairs or even sneaking off to lie naked in the sun on their own private beach—as much as she wished it could be otherwise.
    She flung her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Damara wanted to stay in the circle of his arms, but this was time for goodbye. She wouldn’t shame him or herself by making a big deal out of it. He’d been silent in the car on the way to the airport for a reason.
    â€œThank you for everything, Mr. Hawkins.” She disengaged from the embrace and, without looking at him, started up the stairs.
    â€œTake care of Her Highness, Gregson,” she heard him say.
    â€œYou can do it yourself. Renner wants you on this plane. You’re taking her home to Glory, via D.C.,” the pilot said with a laugh.
    She turned on the stairs to watch his reaction.
    The absolute fury on his face stung. After hearing the pilot’s words, she’d been ecstatic. Damara hadn’t expected Byron to be pleased, but she’d thought maybe he might see it as an opportunity to spend more time with her.
    She could see from his expression that was the furthest thing from his mind.
    â€œWhat the actual fuck?” She flinched at the profanity, but not because of the word itself. It was the anger behind it.
    â€œI don’t know. Those are your orders. We’re taking off in ten, five if I can swing it, so if you’re coming, I suggest you board. There’s some Russian diplomat trying to ground the flight.”
    He grunted, and Damara didn’t know if it was supposed to be a word, a phrase or a curse. “Let’s get her in the air.”
    Hawkins stomped up the stairs behind her.
    She was ushered into a luxurious cabin. Damara was sure the cost of this flight would be taken out of the Castallegnian treasury. She supposed if she had to be a refugee, it was better to do it in comfort.
    The ship hadn’t been comfortable at all, and yet she’d felt the safest she had in her whole life under a tarp in a lifeboat curled into Byron Hawkins. Now, though, everything had changed between them. In getting closer, she was somehow further away from him.
    Byron sat down with a heavy thud in the chair across from hers and strapped in.
    â€œLooks like you got what you wanted.” His voice was a growl.
    She kept her expression neutral and drew on all her training to keep her voice steady so it wouldn’t betray how she felt.
    â€œAm I safe yet? Are my people free? The answer to those questions is no. So I didn’t get what I wanted.” She lifted her chin and fixed him with a regal stare.
    â€œAnd you never will if Renner sticks you with me. You should do your level best, Princess, to convince him you don’t want me on your detail.”
    Princess
was back to being a dirty word that seemed to taste foul on his tongue rather than the endearment it had been last night. “I will.”
    She leaned back in the seat and picked up the nearest book. Damara didn’t know what it was about or who it was by because instead of reading it, she used it as a shield. Something for her to focus on instead of him, something to physically cut the space between them.
    The words ran together on the page.
    â€œDamara,” he said, his voice suddenly soft.
    The engines revved and the plane moved forward on the tarmac toward the queue for takeoff.
    She didn’t want to look up at him, but his regard was palpable on her skin. She thought about ignoring him. She’d learned to do that with Abele, whenever he’d stare so hard she was sure she’d burst into flame from his hatred.
    The part of herself she’d shared with him last night, the part that no one ever saw, it cringed away from him.
    On the outside, though, Damara Petrakis was always a princess.
    Damara flipped the switch on her feelings. She liked to tell herself they were off, but rather they’d been stuffed down so deep inside of her