The return of the commander

Chapter 4

The next morning, the birds chirped outside, and the rays of sunshine cascaded into her room, falling against her face. Samantha's brows knitted together into a frown at the hot feeling skimming across her face. She groaned, turning to lie on her back, peeling her eyes open to the white exiting of the villa.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes with the back of her palm. Her eyes traveled to the clock on the wall, and she sprang up, remembering she had booked an appointment with her doctor last night for nine and in the morning, and it was already twenty minutes to eight.

Quickly, she dashed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take her bath. She rushed out, drying her body, and dressing up.

“I hope Xander has gotten ready and is not sleeping,” she said to herself, brushing her hair and tying it into a messy bun. She eyed her reflection, and noticed the eyebags she had developed over the past few nights.

Her green eyes were filled with clouds of sadness, and she couldn't help but think about her father and her fiancé's uncle. A lump grew in her throat, and tried to gulp it down, but it proved to be stubborn, clawing her throat instead.

Yesterday was horrible. Her father had given her an ultimatum to return home. Her heart constricted when memories of the words he had hurled at her filled her head.

“I shouldn't think about that for now. I need to focus on today's task,” Samantha thought, giving herself a mini prep talk.

She headed out of her room, briskly walking to the room she had given him to sleep in. Raising a fist, she rapped on the door, and then listened for his response. When she got nothing, she knocked again, growing impatient and worried.

Creases of confusion lined up on her forehead. Did something happen to him? She knocked again, wondering if he had ran away last night or worse, he was assassinated or… she shook her head, dispelling every thought of negativity.

“Xander?” She called, placing her ear on the door to listen for sounds.

“Over here!” His voice echoed from the ground floor, and her brows perked up in relief, glad that he was already prepared.

Samantha made her way down the stairs, and her brows drew together into a light frown when she perceived a good aroma.

“Is that chips and eggs?” She asked herself, and made her way into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Xander greeted, placing chips and fried eggs into two plates.

She stared at him with surprise, widening her eyes.

When Xander turned to face her, his face fell in apology. “I'm sorry if you're upset I got into your kitchen, but this is a way of saying thank you for taking care of me.” His lips twitched into a small apologetic smile.

“Oh, no,” Samantha shook her head, amazed at what he had just done. “I'm just–” she paused, taking her seat with an involuntary smile on her lips. “–I'm surprised you can cook.”

Xander smiled a little, tilting his head down. “I didn't know either. I somehow just knew what to do.”

He dropped her plate in front of her and his in front of him. He sat opposite her, and picked up his fork to eat.

They ate in silence, and Samantha stole a few glimpses of him. She had just noticed he had the most beautiful set of eyes. His blue eyes had lengthy and thick lashes over them. A pang of jealousy twisted in her heart at his lashes. She had to wear artificial lashes to attain that look.

She ate her food, noticing he was strikingly attractive with a Greek jaw and peach colored lips. His nose was pointed, and his beard was overgrown. Her heart skipped a beat when he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. She hastily drifted her eyes to her plate.

“Are you ready for the doctor's appointment?” Samantha asked, breaking the silence when she cleared her plate.

“Yes,” Xander said, rising to take their plates. Samantha tried to refuse, but he took them and went to the sink. Her eyes raked his built body, and her stomach knotted itself. She couldn't deny he looked like s*x on walking legs.

Her heart fluttered at his gesture, and she shook her head, getting herself out of whatever reverie she had placed herself in.

“Focus, Samantha,” she said in her head.

After he was done, they headed out of the house and into her car. She drove them into the road, taking a faster route that would take them to the highway.

Involuntarily, her head turned to view Xander, and she couldn't help but admire his handsome features. She returned her gaze to her front, imagining what it would be like to a boyfriend like Xander.

“It would be nice,” she said in her head, and the sides of her lips perked up into a smile.

Her smile faltered, and lips fell on sadness, and her heart writhed in agony when she remembered her impending marriage to a playboy.

“I would be filled with misery as his wife,” she thought, referring to her fiance. Her heart sank, and tears brimmed in her eyes. She gripped the steering wheel tight, and veins popped out on the back of her palms.

“Are you okay?” Xander asked with worry in her voice.

Samantha blinked rapidly, driving the tears away and saying, “Yes,” she lied with a tight-lipped smile.

Suddenly, her car jerked and stopped moving. Her forehead puckered, and her eyes fell to the fuel pump. There was fuel, half a tank, so why did the car stop?

“What's going on?” Xander asked, and Samantha shook her head, unaware of the problem.

She turned the ignition multiple times, trying to start the car but it didn't budge. Samantha threw her gaze out of the window, and her worry toppled over when she realized they were in the middle of a lonely road. There was no way to get help.

“I'll check it out,” Xander said, getting out of the car and pulling open the bonnet.

Samantha followed suit, standing beside him. She watched as his hands gracefully worked his way around the parts in the bonnet.

“Try to start the car,” he instructed softly, and she did as she was told.

The car roared to life, and she beamed with excitement.

“It's working!” Her eyes widened as she watched him close the bonnet from over her windscreen.

Xander slid into the passenger's seat, and Samantha eyed him. “How did you do it? You must have been a mechanic before.”

Xander chuckled, mesmerized at the fact that she thought he was a mechanic. He wanted to tell her about how he knew a lot about cars, being a military general, but he sealed his lips, unable to tell her the truth.

“I have no idea. Maybe I was,” he said, and she spared him a glance for a second. “What about you? What are you?”

Samantha blinked rapidly, not wanting to disclose her identity to a total stranger. She still didn't know if she could trust him.

“Just a basic girl,” Samantha said with a shrug as they made it up the highway. “So how did you know what to do in the car?”

“I just knew. I don't know,” Xander said, hoping he was convincing enough.

Samantha narrowed her eyes, watching a military convoy from area A in front of her. She solemnly wondered what it felt like to be in the military.

Xander followed her gaze, watching the cars move in a straight line.

“Do you know them?” She asked Xander, and as usual, he lied, shaking his head. “I have always admired them. Area A in the south is one of the world's top ten military regions.”

“Really?” Ben c****d his brows, acting surprised.

“Yes. I wonder how they feel now that their leader is dead.” Her tone was laced with sadness.

Ben hummed, rubbing his chin. He titled his head, putting on the hood of the hoodie Samantha had given him before leaving the house to shield him from the harsh code.

Silence fell before them, and Xander had countless thoughts running through his head.

“I know one of the four generals under my command is in charge of area A. I wonder how Bryan, my subordinate, was mourning my death. Including my fiancé.”

Xander chuckled, shaking his head.

Samantha loved the sound of his chuckle, and she swallowed hard, wondering what these foreign feelings in her chest were. She wanted to ask what he found amusing, but she decided to let it slide.

She noticed he was invested in his thoughts, and his gaze lingered at the military convoy.

“Ben?” She called, about to ask him why he was staring at them in such a manner.