Free Prisoner Mine by Megan Mitcham Page A

into his pants, tucked his heavy balls and beautiful penis inside, and then zipped.
    “Get dressed.”
    “In what?” Greer gestured to her ensemble. “And why?”
    “You ask more questions than any person I’ve ever met.”
    He jerked his shirt off the other chair and shoved his head inside.
    “It’s the only way you learn things.” She collapsed onto a hip. “So, why get dressed?”
    “What if I said, so I’m not tempted to fuck you?”
    Heat stained her chest, but luckily the T-shirt covered it. If only she could ignore the baking of her internal organs. “I’d say you were trying to avoid my question.”
    “Sod it all.” Zach shrugged on his holster, secured his gun and extra mags. “I’m taking you to your dad.”
    “My dad! Why?”
    “I have things to do and I can’t babysit you any longer.”
    “I don’t need you to.” Greer scuttled to the edge of the bed, stood—thanked God she could finally—and jumped up and down to prove her point. “I need you to help me figure out why I was taken in the first place.”
    “Your dad can do that. He’s powerful enough.”
    She stiffened. The entire United States knew her family. They saw her dad daily on the house floor and her uncle exiting Air Force One. But most people didn’t know they were her family. As a security measure and memorial to her late mother, on her thirteenth birthday, Greer had taken her mother’s maiden name.
    “How do you know that?”
    “It’s my job to know.”
    “No one at US Elite knows.”
    “I know.” He pointed at the dresser to her left. “Clothes are in the bottom drawer. They won’t be great, but they’ll fit.”
    Greer crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going.”
    “Why not?”
    “I already told you. I want to know why I was taken.”
    “There’s an old British proverb.” Zach slid a long fixed blade into its sheath on his left side. “It goes something like…you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” He tapped a finger on the tip of his lips. “Yep, that’s it.”
    “I’m going with you to find Derrick.”
    “No, you’re not. You’re too skinny. You can hardly hold your own weight.”
    Greer’s ire frothed again. “You’re not my boss anymore.”
    Zach stepped forward. “No. But I’m bigger than you and in this world that’s all that counts.”
    When he took another step in her direction Greer clenched her teeth and lifted her chin. “I’m not going.”
    “You can stay.”
    After all that it couldn’t be that easy. Nothing with Zach Saulter was easy. “I can stay, if…”
    Lids narrowed around his turbulent eyes. “Tell me why you really don’t want to go home?”
    Greer’s arms fell at her sides. He saw through her, at least as well as she saw through him. Enough to know that there was more to the story.
    “I don't want my dad to know I was taken. That I was put on the market to the highest bidder.”
    “It wasn't your fault.”
    “It wasn’t his, but he'll feel that way.”
    “Why?”
    “He’s my dad.”
    Zach tightened his stare. “The truth this time.”
    “Because he recommended me to US Elite.”

6
    Z eke had a crap ton of things to do and not one of them included chopping fire wood. For cripes sake, the sun beat down hot enough to sear his back and shoulders, and he wouldn’t be here when the season came to use the split logs. But it was either plow logs or Greer mother-fucking Britton. With each swing of the axe sweat spattered the splitting stump like shrapnel. Pretty soon he wouldn’t have any perspiration left. He hadn’t grabbed a canteen or even his laptop when he’d stormed out four hours ago. An hour in he’d found out the hose water tasted more like metal than water. At least his computer had a password from prying eyes.
    When his vision tunneled an hour later—with no better idea for how to get rid of Greer or find Coen in the pile of compounds—he dropped the axe and headed inside for a cold arse shower. He’d challenged