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the beaches, and spend time with Neese. A lot of time. Maybe eternal time.

Shaking his head, he went back to the laptop. The proposal for the island family needed to be perfect. There was no way he was missing out on this one.

Chapter Fifteen

“The most I can promise you is ally status and an increase of patrols within neutral waters.”

Nyssa gritted her teeth, keeping her—what did Americans call it? Her poker face in place. Although, Americans needed to change the saying to “she held her political face in place.” The Secretary of Defense had promised her nothing. Zimrada was already friendly with the United States, shared in their ideals of freedom for the people. The monarchy did not tax the people to support themselves. All tax income went to improving the infrastructure on the island and maintain the ports. And the royal family worked as if they were public servants.

What she wouldn’t give to shove a cupcake in the Secretary’s neutral political face. He spoke as if giving her the world at the same time he handed her a loosely woven basket full of sand.

“Thank you for the offer, Mister Secretary, but our neighboring nations are not the threat; patrolling neutral waters will not prevent an assassination from within our palace walls. Should my cousin’s blockade continue to prevent our ships from leaving the harbor, and succeed in removing my parents from the throne, his plan to bring war to our homeland will take place upon our shores.”

The secretary sipped his coffee. Black—like his heart.

Nyssa continued, “Even two thousand US troops or one large boat to break up the blockade would be enough to dissuade my father’s cousin. We are a small island country, after all.”

“That is precisely why I cannot send troops to your shores.” His mug clunked to the table. “The risk to our men and women in uniform is too great.”

And the payoff too small. She pulled out her ace. “My country may not have the political power of the United States or Great Britain, but it has amenities the US would be welcome to use should the need arise. We are in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with ports and shipping capabilities. Not to mention, with our subtropical climate, we can grow crops year-round. Should the US go to war, we could be an invaluable resource. Truly, by aligning ourselves with America, we are hanging a target on the map over Zimrada.”

“We wouldn’t ask that of you, Princess.” The secretary’s lips twitched. The movement hardly noticeable and yet so telling. He had already weighed this information, and should the US find themselves in need of a supply source in the Atlantic, they would simply land without invitation and take what they wanted.

Nyssa lowered her voice. “Men like Mahana do not contain their greed, Mister Secretary. He will not stop with controlling our island.” She thought of the other peaceful nations around them, and some of the not-so-peaceful ones. Mahana may see them as stepping stones. Or he may stride right over them, drunk on his ill-gotten power.

The secretary leaned forward. “What are you saying? Do you think he will stage some kind of terrorist attack on the US?”

Nyssa bit the inside of her cheek. She had no idea what her father’s cousin was capable of doing. She felt the strangest need to channel her mother, to bring into the conversation the wisdom of a queen. Lifting her chin, she took on the cadence her mother used when instructing a room full of older children. Children who were mature enough to grasp abstract concepts and apply them to living a good life. “On our island we believe that like attracts like. We see this principle every day. Where one palm tree grows, several will soon follow. One bird means there are many in the trees. Even seashells wash ashore in groups with a few scattered pebbles between them. I do not know what is in Mahana’s mind, but I do know that his heart is black with hatred and large with greed.”

“I see.”

He didn’t. He was placating her, seeing nothing more than a young princess who did not understand the world or her place in it. She continued, “Men are no different than the trees, the birds, or the shells. If Mahana is allowed to gain control of Zimrada, others like him will gather near. Our peaceful emerald sea will become a hotbed for overly ambitious men who will stop at nothing to gain their evil desires. You may think the ocean is vast, but our people have been crossing the great waters in canoes for centuries.”

One side of his mouth went up in an indulgent smile. “We are not afraid of canoes.”

Nyssa got to her feet, anger and indignation tensing and clutching within her stomach. Mister Secretary also rose, buttoning his navy-blue suit over his red striped tie as he stood.

“If you can prove Mahana intends to cause harm to the US, either our government or citizens, then I can help.”

She had no such proof. Any she could gather would come after Mahana had inflicted his damage on their family, the island, and their traditions. All she had was a gut feeling and a need to shield her family. Nyssa held out her hand. “Thank you for your time, Mister Secretary.”

He shook with her, his grip as limp as an old banana. “Of course. My door is always open. I hope you enjoy the tour of our Capitol today.”

“I’m sure it will be thrilling.” Nyssa applied a smile as she left the room, her heart as empty as her attempt to secure protection for the people she loved most in this world.

She longed to see Tatum, to press into his warm embrace. Tatum could not make things all better for her or her family. He had no pull with the US military and certainly couldn’t make her uncle disappear. No, being held by him didn’t and wouldn’t change the bad things in her

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