Alec's Royal Assignment (Man On A Mission Book 3) (10 page)

But he seemed to understand anyway. “If I’d made love to you last night the way I did tonight, it wouldn’t have been what you needed. Last night you needed to erase the self-doubt. Needed to remember just how strong you really are. All I did was remind you.” He smiled lazily. “All I did was let loose a woman who met me halfway and demanded everything I had to give. And yeah, it was incredible. Mind blowing.”

He toyed with her hair. “But tonight...tonight you needed tenderness. You still needed everything I had to give, but emotionally, not sexually.” He rolled onto his back, tugging her until she sprawled across his naked body. “I want to be the one who gives you what you need, Angel,” he said seriously, holding her gaze with his. “No matter what. No matter when. And I want the same from you.”

She didn’t know what to say. Everything was still too new. Too unexpected. She’d denied this side of herself for so long, rationalizing she could never have her career and a man, too, that the two things seemed incompatible. And she’d been content with the choice she’d made. More than content—she’d been reasonably happy with her life exactly as it had been.

Until she met Alec. Until she realized she’d never really had to make a choice at all before now. She now realized how much she’d be giving up if she made the same choice this time around.

But she had to tell him something. “I... I have been alone for a long time, Alec. I have made a life for myself that was enough...until I met you. And now that life is no longer enough. I was not expecting it. And to be honest, I did not want my life to change.”

She caught a fleeting glimpse of pain in his eyes before he hid it. Both hurt her—that she’d caused him pain, and that he felt he had to hide his pain from her. “But now there is you,” she continued. “I am not so easily changeable, I think. I need time to come to terms with everything that has happened. The reality of you is so much more than my secret fantasies.” She touched his face with fingers that weren’t quite steady, then bent to brush her lips over his.

“But one thing I must tell you,” she continued when she finally raised her head. “You have given me more joy in two nights than I ever thought to have in my entire life.” She knew he could see the smile in her eyes before it spread slowly over her face. “That is your gift to me. Joy. I did not know how much I needed it. But you did, and you gave it to me. I want to give that same gift to you.”

Her words affected him powerfully—his face betrayed him. The same for the hard male flesh that responded as if she’d caressed him. “You do, Angel,” he said softly, his tone husky with emotion. “What we have is enough for now. You need time? Time you shall have. That, and anything else you need. As I said, I want to be the one who gives you what you need. Just ask.”

She hesitated, torn because she was afraid he wouldn’t understand. “There is one other thing I need,” she said finally. “Please do not take this the wrong way, but I do not want the men with whom I work to know about us. Not yet. Not that I am ashamed of what I feel for you,” she rushed to add as his eyes darkened. “It is not that. Please do not think that. You are a man any woman would be proud to call her own.”

“Then why?”

“I am judged by the men on the queen’s security detail, and within the Zakharian National Forces. You must see how I cannot let my personal life be a distraction. ‘Emotional.’ That is what the men say. ‘Women are too emotional to do a man’s job.’”

“I never said that.” His words rang with sincerity. “I never would.”

“I know you would not, but it is not you I must work with. I am already looked at differently by Captain Zale and others than I was before yesterday. You know this.”

His voice was hard when he said, “I already told you, no man could have done better.”

“But what if Captain Zale thinks I was distracted from my duty, let us say, because you were there? Because of how I feel about you?”

“You weren’t.” Decisive. Sure.

His faith in her—so absolute—made her blink back sudden tears. She’d cried more in the past two days than she’d cried in the past eight years since Caterina disappeared. Tears no one but Alec had seen. She wanted him to always believe in her, but she had to be honest. “I will never know for sure,” she said softly. Words it hurt her to admit, but words she had to say to him.

“
I
know,” he said, still in that same implacable tone.

“How can you
know
when I do not?”

His voice gentled. “Because I know you, Angel, like I know myself. Trust me on this.” He pulled her head down and cradled it against his shoulder, a gesture that comforted her more than she would ever have believed possible. Or necessary. “
Nothing
will ever distract you from your duty.”

Chapter 10

E
leven men and one woman sat around the conference table in what was called the war room. Zakhar had not fought in a war that required this size of a room since the Second World War, when the king’s grandfather sat on the throne, and it was rarely used. But relics of Zakhar’s illustrious military history were everywhere on the walls, including an authenticated copy of the portrait of the first Andre Alexei, the original of which hung in the portrait gallery downstairs. Angelina fixed her eyes on the portrait, wondering for the thousandth time how such a fearsome warrior could have been the same man who said, “It is her...or no one,” referring to Queen Eleonora. The same man whose fierce love for his queen was legendary.

Everyone rose when the king entered, the wooden chairs making no sound on the large carpet beneath the conference table, and Angelina put her musings aside to consider another day, wondering instead why she’d been included in this high-level meeting. Captain Zale hadn’t told her. He’d merely said the king had commanded her presence.

“Please be seated,” the king said curtly before taking the chair at the head of the table next to his cousin, the head of internal security. “You all know why you are here,” he told them. “But I will say it anyway. Prince Nikolai is dead.” The king shot one glance at his cousin, who was Prince Nikolai’s older brother, but Colonel Marianescu betrayed not a flicker of emotion.

The king continued, “My cousin supposedly hanged himself in his prison cell last night.” She could have heard a pin drop. “I say supposedly, because there are indications it was not by his choice.” The king folded his lips tightly together, as if keeping his temper by the slimmest of threads.

“I also find it convenient—too convenient—that the interrogation of the surviving would-be assassin from Sunday’s attempt has yielded a confession so quickly.” He glanced around the table, his gaze moving from one face to the next, ending on Angelina’s. “Far too convenient, because he named my cousin Niko as the instigator of the plot to assassinate my son.”

Angelina had never heard a harder, colder voice than the king’s. Then he said softly, “I do not believe it. It is too neat. Too pat.” A couple of voices were raised in objection, but the king held up his hand to silence them. “Do I believe my cousin wanted my son dead? Absolutely. Do not waste your breath on that. But do I believe he could have arranged this from his prison cell? All on his own? Without access to money? Accomplices? No. I would be a fool to believe that.”
And I am not a fool.
He didn’t say it, but everyone at the table heard him anyway.

He looked around the table again, and his gaze ended up on Angelina’s face. “Do not forget the cameramen were not the only ones involved. Lieutenant Sasha Tcholek, who was trusted to guard the queen and was then transferred to guard the crown prince, was part of the conspiracy.”

She knew—all Zakhar knew—the king loved his wife. But even though she’d been a witness on occasion to intimate moments between the king and the queen she guarded, even though she knew their devotion to each other, seeing the king like this startled her. And—she caught her breath at the realization—it made her think of Alec. Alec, who’d been angry on her behalf. Alec, who she sensed could be just as ruthless as the king.

She quickly pushed thoughts of Alec to one side, because the king was speaking again. “I want three things,” he told them, his tone reminding those gathered around the conference table he was one of the last absolute monarchs on earth—at the Zakharians’ insistence. “First, I want further interrogation of the prisoner with the aim of learning the
entire
truth behind the assassination attempt. Second, I want an investigation into the backgrounds of both would-be assassins. Find the connection between them, my cousin, Lieutenant Tcholek and whoever else is involved. Do the same for Lieutenant Tcholek.”

He paused, poured water from the carafe in front of him into a glass and took a sip. “Third, I want a complete investigation of
every
man on the crown prince’s security detail. The same goes for the queen’s security detail.” He paused, and added softly, “And mine. We are fortunate Lieutenant Mateja was quick-witted enough to take Tcholek down, but we cannot rely on her every time. No stone unturned, is that understood? What nearly happened
never
happens again.”

The chorus of assent seemed to please the king, and he stood. “Thank you, gentlemen. You are dismissed.” Everyone rose and headed for the door, Angelina among them, but the king called out, “Captain Zale. Lieutenant Mateja. A moment, please. No, Zax,” he told his cousin. “You stay too, please.”

The king waited until only the four of them remained and then ordered, “Shut the door, please.”

Angelina obeyed, wondering what this was all about. She didn’t have long to wonder. “It has come to my attention, Captain, there still exists doubt and suspicion in some quarters regarding Lieutenant Mateja’s actions on Sunday.” Captain Zale shot a sharp glance at Angelina. “No, Captain. Lieutenant Mateja has said nothing to me. Nor did she say anything to the queen. Admirable, perhaps, on her part. She is completely loyal to you. But know this. Of every man on the security details, including my own, the
only
officers above suspicion in my mind at this moment are Lieutenant Mateja and Colonel Marianescu,” he said, using his cousin’s military title. “Lieutenant Mateja will be investigated—as every officer will be investigated—but that is a formality, Captain. Keep that in mind. You are dismissed.”

When Angelina turned to follow Colonel Marianescu and Captain Zale from the room, the king stopped her. “One more moment, Lieutenant, if you please.”

When they were alone, the king said, “Something else has come to my attention, Lieutenant, regarding the killing of Lieutenant Tcholek.”

“Yes, Sire?”

“You did what you had to do, Lieutenant.” His voice was soft but seriously intent. “You are a fighting man—a woman, yes, but a fighting man nevertheless. You cannot let this killing weigh on your conscience. Nor the death of the other man. These things happened, and you must live with them. Take solace that they deserved to die, although not, perhaps, by your hand. But you cannot second-guess yourself. Not now. Not ever.”

Suddenly Angelina knew the source of the king’s information.
Alec,
a little voice whispered in her mind.
Alec talked to the king again.

The king wasn’t finished. “For a fighting man, instinct is everything. Reflexes rely on instinct. If you doubt yourself, doubt your instincts, this could be fatal. To you and the person you are guarding. You cannot afford to doubt. I have entrusted the most precious thing in my world to you, but I must know you are able to put the killing behind you and move forward with the same certainty of purpose you had before. You may be called upon to kill again someday in the line of duty. I
must
know you will not hesitate...if necessary.”

Angelina stiffened. “Yes, Sire.”

The king assessed her in that disconcerting way he had. “Good,” he said finally. “Very good.” He smiled his faint smile. “And Lieutenant, for what it is worth, I would have done exactly what you did under the circumstances. No more, no less. Exactly what you did.”

* * *

She pounced on Alec the minute he walked through her door. “You traitor,” she accused him, her eyes narrowing, but playfully. “You talked to the king again.”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “Yeah, I did.”

“But why?”

“Because you didn’t deserve to be looked at with suspicion, or have anyone second-guess what you did on Sunday. And the only one who could fix that was the king. You told me the king was the reason your captain let you return to work so soon, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“So I talked to the king. Man-to-man. I respected the hell out of him before this, but now...now I totally get why you Zakharians love him so fiercely. The loyalty he gives his men is incredible. Unbelievable, even. And unexpected. No wonder you give him your complete loyalty in return.”

He smiled suddenly, as if at a memory. “You know, McKinnon told me the king sent men to spy on him when he was falling in love with the princess. Men with orders to kill him, if necessary, to protect her.”

“I do not see what there is to smile about that,” she said, puzzled.

“Then the king kidnapped McKinnon—although he already had a plane ticket to come here—and brought him by stealth to Zakhar, to ask him one question,” Alec continued. “And to force him to see what he’d done to the princess by lying to her. By telling her he didn’t love her.”

“I still do not see—”

“Ruthless. The king is ruthless where someone he cares about is concerned,” Alec said in the deep voice that never failed to thrill her. Still smiling, but the smile was a little crooked now. “I am, too, Angel. I’m ruthless where you’re concerned.” He put his arms around her and drew her close. “Don’t ask me to change, because I can’t change who I am any more than you can change who you are. I told you I want to be the one who gives you everything you need, and I do. I always will. Even if you don’t think you need it.”

* * *

Aleksandrov Vishenko eyed his minions coldly. “And how is it the Zakharian prince is still alive? I thought the plan was foolproof. Were there not two assassins? And was there not a backup? Someone on the inside?”

The first man started to say no plan was foolproof, but one look at Vishenko’s face and he decided discretion was the better part of valor. The second man was apparently made of sterner stuff. “Two men are dead,” he said practically. “At least they cannot talk. One is a prisoner but, as previously arranged, he named Prince Nikolai as the instigator of the assassination plot. And with Prince Nikolai dead—” he shrugged “—nothing can be traced to you.”

The first man jumped in eagerly. “And word is that even though the little prince is not dead, the king is now focused exclusively on rooting out any other conspirators on their security teams. So he has been distracted...exactly as you wished.”

“
Exactly
as I wished?” Vishenko asked in a rumbling volcano of a voice that made the two men quail. “If it had been
exactly
as I wished, the king’s son would be dead.” He let that sink in for a minute. “And what of your other assignment?”

The first man cleared his throat. “There has been some progress there,” he said cautiously. “We sent out the word on the woman...and the increased reward. The higher reward may have done the trick. An informant thinks he may have spotted her in—” He glanced at the other man, a frantic question on his face.

“Denver, Colorado,” the second man supplied smoothly. “Why she would be there we don’t know, but we have sent a man to investigate.”

Vishenko nodded his approval. “Good. Very good. Let me know what he learns.”

* * *

The phone rang, waking Alec from a sound sleep. He’d long ago learned how to wake immediately—you couldn’t function effectively as a bodyguard if your brain was groggy when you first woke up, not even for a few minutes—so he was sharp and alert when he grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Did I wake you? Sorry,” his sister, Keira, said, but the perfunctory way the apology was offered told Alec she wasn’t sincere.

Keira wouldn’t be calling him at this hour of the night if it wasn’t important, so he didn’t bother with small talk. “What’s up?”

“Trace asked me to check on a name last week, and Cody authorized it,” she said, referring to her husband, McKinnon’s boss in the agency. “He wanted anything I could uncover, including any work visas, tourist visas, et cetera, that might have been issued in that name—and let him know what I found.”

Keira had tracked down a work visa that had been issued just over eight years ago in Caterina Mateja’s name, but it had never been renewed. And since the original visa had expired long since, the holder of the visa should have returned to her home country. But there was no record of her on any flight or boat leaving the United States. Nothing Keira could find, and she had access to just about every data file.

Lots of people overstayed their US visas, dropping off the grid and becoming illegal immigrants. The federal government wasn’t all that good about tracking people who overstayed their welcome, even after 9/11.

“Caterina Mateja just resurfaced in a totally different case.”

* * *

Angelina stood at attention in Captain Zale’s tiny office in the palace, off a small, out-of-the-way corridor. She was worried the king’s intervention on her behalf only made things worse where her commanding officer was concerned, but she was determined to make her request anyway.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” Captain Zale’s tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it wasn’t the warm, approving tone she’d grown to expect from him.

“I would like to be involved in the interrogation of the prisoner, sir,” she said, not beating around the bush. “On my own time, of course. I am not asking to be relieved of duty for this.”

Captain Zale made a sound of impatience and said curtly, “Sit down, Mateja.” When she was seated, he said abruptly, “I owe you an apology.”

“Sir?” This was the last thing she’d expected.

“No one appreciates being reprimanded. And especially not by one’s supreme commander,” he added dryly, referring to the king. “But I deserved the reprimand.”

“Sir?”

“Do not keep saying ‘sir’ as if you do not follow what I am saying,” he said testily. “I know you understand.” He grimaced. “Perhaps I was hard on you because I blamed myself.”

“Si—” She stopped herself before she could say it. “Blame yourself for what, sir?”

“For not telling you the name of the person I was sending to relieve you.” One corner of his mouth twitched into the beginning of a rueful smile. “I should have told you. Easy to see that now, of course. If I had, you would never have dropped your guard with Tcholek. You would have been suspicious of him from the first. Then we would have three to interrogate instead of only one.”

“I do blame myself for that, sir,” she said quietly. “For dropping my guard. Or I did, until—” She caught herself before she could blurt out Alec’s name, and changed what she was going to say. “Until the king told me I could not let it affect me. I must put the killing behind me and move forward with the same certainty of purpose I have always had. He said I must trust my instincts. Always.”