Free The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) by Edward Crichton Page B

pain.
    “Yeah,” I said. “That one hurt more than just the
pride.”
    Her mouth tightened slightly. “Again, I am sorry. As
I’m sure you’re well aware of by now, my… situation…” she sighed,
“well I had my reasons for what I did, but they were the wrong
ones. I shouldn’t have punched you.”
    Reasons?
    I decided to move on for the moment.
    “I’m just glad Santino didn’t win the bet.”
    “Why?” She asked curiously.
    “Never mind,” I added, quickly glancing down at my
tray, trying to push the thought from my mind. “Look, I accept your
apology wholeheartedly and want to reassure you that I didn’t take
it personally. In fact, I’d like to apologize too. The way I acted
upon meeting you was totally inappropriate. It’s just something
that kinda happens.”
    She cracked a small smile, the first legitimate one
I’d seen from her yet.
    “You know,” she said, “on any other day, in any
other situation, under any other circumstance, I would have found
it rather cute.”
    “Yeah,” I blushed, playing with my fruit loops, “I
get that a lot. Anyway, I’m glad we were able to push through this.
You’d be surprised how hard it is to not get along with someone as
attractive, intelligent, and deadly up to three thousand yards with
a sniper rifle as you are. How’d you manage such a
combination?”
    She pointed her fork at me threateningly. “You do
realize that that was a very risky question, especially for someone
like you?”
    “Like me?” I joked. “Whatever do you mean?
    She smirked at me. “You’re just lucky we’ve been
assigned as swim buddies or else I’d have to finish what I started
with your face.”
    I shrugged. “I’m told my curiosity gets me into
trouble.”
    “Well, you seem harmless enough. Fine. I was born
outside of Regensburg, in the Bavarian countryside, on some of the
most beautiful land I’ve ever seen. My father tells me we’re
descended from an old offshoot of the Habsburg family, but
obviously we are far from royalty. My ancestors were merchants who
dealt mostly in Eastern goods with Turkish traders, so much so that
some of them married their Turkish counterparts, which is probably
where I get some of my features.
    “My family has been wealthy ever since, and the
first thing my father taught me to do by the time I could walk, as
his father did for him, was how to shoot a rifle. It was a
tradition so that I could accompany him on his many outlandish
hunting trips. And I loved it. I practiced with my father whenever
I could during school vacations, and qualified for the Olympics as
soon as I was eligible. I’ve even medaled in the Biathlon, a rather
difficult event.”
    “The biathlon, huh?” I smirked, always considering
the event something of a joke. “Ever think of becoming a Bond
villain?”
    “A Bond villain?”
    “Never mind.”
    She gave me a wry look. “I’d just graduated from
Oxford, leading our marksmanship team to an international
championship, when I decided to spend a year in America to further
my education – a very interesting country, by the way.”
    I shrugged. “We try.”
    “Well, when I returned to Germany after the fighting
had started, I debated joining the military, but it wasn’t until
just a year ago that I decided to finally do just that. Papa was
not happy, but I signed up despite his disapproval. He lives in a
fantasy world with no idea what is going on outside his estate. He
wasn’t even afraid for my life, just upset at my decision. I didn’t
care. My life was without direction and I wanted to do something
important. The war was only getting worse and worse and I knew I
had to join now before it was too late.
    “When I did, my shooting scores in basic propelled
me into sniper school. I worked alone, never given a spotter,
probably because they wanted me to wash out. No girls allowed, and
all that, but I graduated at the top of my class. I’ve been a
trained sniper since, so your job should be pretty easy, but