Page 36 of Kai
“Until the mercs finish searching,” he said. “Until they move on and I get the all clear to proceed with our exfil plan.”
I cocked my eyebrows at him. “Can you be more specific?”
“For everyone’s safety, no, I can’t.” He squared his jaw at an angle as obtuse as he was.
My stomach churned with dread. “What if they find us before then?”
“I’ve got a plan for that, too.”
When I narrowed my eyes at him, the purest tones of indigo and gold ignited his aura. He was telling the truth. Even so, I fretted. “What makes you think we’re safe here?”
“Like control, safety is also an illusion,” he offered, displaying the rare brand of factual rationality I admired. “But for now, at this moment, we’re as safe as possible here. This cove is a good place to wait. It doesn’t show up on any map. It’s a deserted island, part of a chain of little-known cays and atolls, rocky outcrops and sandbanks that make this part of the ocean tricky to navigate.”
“You mean it’s hard to access?”
“Affirmative.” He waved his hand over the table, as if he had spread an invisible map on it. “If you look at a maritime chart, all you see is a bunch of unmarked rocks. Other than rainwater, there’s no drinkable water, no infrastructure. The steep cliffs you see around us are the remains of the rim of an ancient volcano’s caldera. The sheer cliffs on the east side are unclimbable, and the extensive reef enclosing the cove on the west side is too dangerous for most ships to navigate. Most people don’t even know this place exists.”
“Butyoudo,” I pointed out the obvious. “How?”
“The land has been in my family for generations.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. “Youownthis place?”
“Yes.”
“Huh.” How could a self-described ‘lowly Marine’ own this land? I went out on a limb and added a shot of sarcasm to boot. “If that’s the case, you must be a descendant of royalty.”
“Royalty that’s no longer royal.” He stunned me with his straightforward admission. “My mother came from a long line of Hawaiian rulers. Once the monarchy was overthrown in 1893, her family fought to keep their lands. They got the dregs of the islands, the rocks no one else wanted. That’s why this place now belongs to me.”
“Wowzers.” The revelation that this unassuming hunk was a descendant of a historic line made me blink several times. My father had bought himself a title and pretended to be a nobleman, while the guy before me had real oceanic royal blood in his veins. I looked at him with fresh eyes. Raised in the pretentious Astor world, I admired his down-to-earth attitude about—well—everything.
Even better, he didn’t seem to mind my barrage of questions or my sarcastic streak. He sat at ease on the cushioned bench with his elbows propped on the gunwales, radiating his cool, laid-back vibes, impervious to my curiosity. Hell, he might be the only person other than my siblings who was impermeable to my intensity. Maybe he was Cece-proof. Had I finally met a guy who wasn’t intimidated by me?
Yeah, he was too freaking smart to fit into my idiot category.
“So,” I charged forward. “Technically, are you a prince?”
“Hardly.” His rich laughter stole my breath. “Like I said, the royal families melted away. The old bloodlines are irrelevant. My mother met my father while working as a cashier at the Navy exchange when he was stationed in Oahu.”
“Your dad was in the Navy?”
“He was a Marine from California. When I was growingup, we moved frequently between naval stations. So,nota prince.”
“Then how do you define yourself?”
“I’m your average American mutt, a simple guy who loves to surf, and a Navy brat who followed in my father’s footsteps and enlisted to travel the world. I’m also a Marine who found a second family, first with the Raiders, and then with Tracker Team and Dashiell Dagger.”
“A simple guy, a Navy brat, and a humble Marine who has royal oceanic genes in his blood and owns piles of rocks here and there,” I pointed out more tartly than I intended. “A chill, friendly, hunky surfer dude that exudes charm, personality, and bravery.”
He made a show of opening his mouth and widening his eyes. “Did you just toss me a few compliments?”
I lowered my chin and smirked. “Your big ego doesn’t need a boost.”
“You’d never let that happen, so no worries.” Chuckling, he curled his middle fingers, stretched out his thumb and pinky, and rotating his hand, gave me the Shaka sign.
“You know,” I ventured. “Hanging loose is not my style.”
“Obviously.” Mirth sparkled in his eyes, and despite the heart-stopping dimples, I found no judgment in his grin. “Were you going somewhere with your interrogation? What was the point you were trying to make?”
