The Makeover Mission (14 page)

"What's so all-fired funny?" she demanded, finding it
hard to hold her temper before his mirth. She didn't think Lucius McConneghy
laughed aloud a lot.

"You are." He wiped one eye. "You're telling me
you'll feel guilty for taking a swim?"

The man nailed it in a nutshell. Another nifty trick.

"And if I do?" she countered.

"Get over it. Take your swim. Enjoy it. You've earned
it."

She was sure there was some thread of logic she could unravel to
refute what she knew deep down she wanted to do. But the water was calling.
Loudly.

"Fine." She'd simply have to ignore the last twinge of
decadent irresponsibility. "Maybe just this once."

The suit she found in the changing room was like everything else
of Elena's. Too revealing. No one-piece maillot in basic black for the future
queen.

But there was something about the quick intake of Lucius's breath
when she appeared in it that was well worth her initial discomfort. Especially
when it took him a moment or two to clear his throat and respond when she asked
if he was joining her in the pool.

"No."

The answer stopped her descent into the shallow end.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean I'll sit over here and read a magazine while you
enjoy yourself."

Great. She got to play while he still had to work. That made it
real easy to relax.

"What now?" he asked when she remained standing in the
shallow end.

"Do you ever get to stop being in control?"

By the look on his face, one quickly banked, she thought she'd hit
a hot button. But his voice betrayed nothing. "I'm on duty as long as
you're in Vendari."

Not the answer she wanted to hear. Though why it should bother her
was new. She'd known all along theirs was nothing but a temporary, if very
intense, relationship based on an unusual circumstance. Of course there'd be no
relaxing in a pool. Together. Or anything else—together. Except staying alive.

His voice broke through her musings. "You've gone quiet on me
when you should be swimming and enjoying yourself."

"Of course."

The look she gave him tugged at him in ways he'd never known were
possible. Disappointment. Vulnerability. A brave smile plastered over what? Did
it really matter that much if he didn't swim with her?

Lucius didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until she
slid farther into the pool and submerged her head.

It had seemed like a great idea, a little while ago. Letting her
take a few laps in the private pool, one only himself, the king and the king's
brother ever used. Elena would never appear here as there wasn't enough of an
audience around for her. But, by the light in Jane's eye, she could appreciate
what a sanctuary this small enclave meant. A respite from public scrutiny. A
way to stretch out knotted muscles and be off stage, if even for a few moments.

At least that's what Lucius had wanted for Jane.

He watched as she began to swim sure and methodical laps through
the water. Her form strong and sure. Her figure holding his attention more than
it should, even all-but-invisible though the churning water.

The lady was getting to him. Big-time. And that was a danger he'd
have to guard against. Admiration was one thing. Anything else could compromise
the mission and jeopardize her chances of survival.

"The water really is very nice." She'd stopped swimming
and was treading water in the deep end. "Are you sure you have to stay
over there?"

No siren's call ever sounded so sweet. Would it hurt to join her?
His own guards stood on the other side of the far door. Lord knew he had his
own share of clenched muscles and tension to release.

Yeah, like that's why he wanted to slide into that water beside
her.

"Lucius?" she said while he dithered. The first time
she'd ever called him by his first name.

He was a goner.

"I'll grab a suit." He rose from his seat, ruefully
shaking his head. Ten minutes. He'd give himself ten minutes to swim a few
brisk laps, and be done.

Easy.

Until he heard her laugh. He'd crossed to the far side of the
pool, closest to the men's changing room when her laughter stopped him.

She'd silently glided to the edge of the pool across from him and
was waiting there. For him. A big grin across her expressive face. Her eyes
glowing, even from this distance.

"I'll race you to the other side if you ever get in
here," she teased. She was flirting with him. Actually flirting.

"You think you can win against me?" he asked, more to
hear her response than anything else.

"You betcha, big guy."

"Wanna bet on that?"

Her grin deepened and his heart flip-flopped.

"I will if you will."

He was beyond being a goner if a simple smile could make him feel
as though a sledgehammer had just broadsided him.

"It's a bet." He turned to take another step when the
room erupted before him.

Then all went black.

"Ekaterina, if you say he's going to be fine one more time,
I'm going to scream."

"Yes, mademoiselle," came the soft reply, one that made
Jane feel as if she was plucking wings off a butterfly.

It wasn't the maid's fault that Jane was trapped in this bedroom
that had felt more like a cage for the past three hours. That news was
impossible to get. Or that, except for knowing Lucius was alive, though hurt,
there'd been a wall of silence ever since the king's brother, Eustace, had
pulled her screaming off Lucius's still body. The one she'd dragged bleeding
from the pool.

"I'm sorry, Ekaterina." Jane crossed to the far window.
"I'm not doing real well with hearing nothing."

"What is it you need to hear?"

She whirled to see Lucius standing at the open doorway between the
two rooms, the king's brother at his side.

"You're—"

"I'm not dead. No."

He sounded so cold. So remote. And he looked like hell. A raw gash
across his forehead. Bruises darkening his jaw. A sling cradling his left arm.

But he was alive. And there. Less than ten feet away. A few steps
and she could touch him, make sure with her own hands that he still breathed.
But not with Eustace Tarkioff looking on. And Ekaterina.

"No one would tell me anything." She kept her tone as
composed and calm as his. "I didn't know how bad…"

"A few cracked ribs. Sprained wrist." He raised his left
arm slightly and couldn't hide the wince. Or else she was beginning to see
below the stoic exterior too well. "Nothing that won't heal within a few
days."

"You could have been killed."

"Only a slight possibility." It was the king's brother
who answered. "The explosive device was a small one. A direct hit might
have done serious damage, but, as you can see, the major is fine."

"Fine? You call almost getting killed fine?"

"Enough." Lucius's voice cut her to the quick. It wasn't
a request but an order. "His highness is correct. If the bomb was intended
to kill someone, it would have."

And that was supposed to make her feel better?

"But I thought you said Elena—" Too late, Jane caught
herself and glanced at Ekaterina before correcting her words. "I thought
you said very few used the pool. If someone had wanted to harm … me, why plant
a bomb there?"

Lucius's expression tightened. The king's brother's paled as he
answered. "Perhaps someone who did not know your habits. Sloppy work by
sloppy people."

There was something more going on here. Jane wasn't an idiot, as
much as these two were treating her like one, but there was something else
happening here besides a near-miss experience for Lucius. And herself too, for
that matter.

But obviously she was going to be kept in the dark.

Fine. Lucius had told her to trust no one the first day they'd
arrived in Vendari. She'd been forgetting that little point. Lucius was alive.
Hurt, yes, but everything about his manner told her she was way out of line for
being so concerned.

They were back to square one with Jane as a pawn. Whatever she
thought might be happening between her and Lucius was obviously not going to
happen. They were not friends. They were nothing but strangers caught up in a
deadly game.

Now all she had to do was keep reminding herself of that fact and
she just might get out of this crazy place alive. Not unscathed. It was already
too late for that. Or it wouldn't hurt so much that not once since he'd entered
the room had Lucius looked at her. Really looked at her. No quick smile or nod
of assurance. Nothing.

She'd been a fool to think things were changing between them. But
that was over. Even librarians knew to be wary once burned.

Jane found the next several days passed swiftly. Though there was
a new group to meet and greet every time she turned around, there was also a
certain pattern to the hours, and to her time spent with Lucius McConneghy.

They'd moved to the palace the day after the incident, as it was
being called. Living in the palace was actually very much like living in the
villa, only on a larger scale. More soldiers at every corner, bigger rooms,
longer hallways. Early mornings she'd meet Lucius to share a short and
constrained breakfast. He'd brief her on the upcoming functions, his tone as
dry and impersonal as if he were her lifelong social secretary. Then the limo
would arrive to whisk them somewhere where the inevitable speeches took place,
with her offering a few words and the pressing of flesh.

She was actually becoming quite good at it. Though McConneghy gave
her no more words of encouragement. In fact he barely talked to her at all
except to brief her on who'd they'd be meeting, what she was expected to do and
the need for her to eat more. As if she could with her stomach churning
constantly.

The evenings also fell into a general pattern. Her schedule was
still being kept light, so they'd return to the palace by late afternoon or
early evening. She'd change into another of Elena's form-hugging dresses and
join McConneghy in the formal dining room.

Thus far, the king had only made cursory appearances, for which
she was thankful. It was hard enough keeping her composure under McConneghy's
cool, gray-eyed stare; no telling what she'd do with the frowning inspection of
Tarkioff.

Conversation over the evening meals was as sparse as that between
them the rest of the day. No more periodic smiles or small talk to put her at
ease. If anything, McConneghy pulled further behind his enigmatic mask of
control and composure, leaving her feeling both alone and lonely.

The old Jane, as she was beginning to think of her librarian self,
would have accepted the silence; after all most meals through her childhood
consisted of a similar routine. But now she wanted something more.

But, and against her better judgment, she found she wanted to know
more about the major, about where he came from, what he did outside of this
particular mission, how he felt about any number of things. But if she thought
No Trespassing signs were erected before, the electric fence around any
questions was even worse now.

She wanted to point out she wasn't a master spy or someone who was
going to use any golden gleams of information to harm him. But it was obvious
the man had spent most of his adult life being reticent.

That shouldn't be her concern, she reminded herself after a
particularly grueling day. Another silent and strained dinner awaited her and,
if she missed that short time period when the major seemed to grow closer to
her, maybe it was better to be safe than it was to be sorry.

Stuffing away regrets that would only mean pain in the long run,
she paused outside the dining-room doorway, pulled up the front of her dress a
bit, brushed back her hair and took a deep breath. She stepped forward and
stopped in her tracks.

"Your Majesty." She glanced around for McConneghy.

"Major McConneghy is detained this evening." Viktor Tarkioff's
smile slashed against the darkness of his skin, his eyes looking small and
squinty in the light of the candle glow. "I thought it was appropriate
that I keep you company in his place."

He moved toward her, extending his arm for her to lay her hand
across. It was silly that she hesitated. After all what could this man possibly
do to her?

"Thank you." She let him lead her to a seat near his at
the far end of the table. "I know how busy you are."

"Not too busy for a beautiful woman."

She told herself this might be the best time in the world to find
out if she could convince the king to let her return home. He leaned forward to
help her scoot her chair forward and she took a deep breath.

"I have not seen much of you and the major these last
days." He spoke before she had a chance. Once in his own seat he reached
for a glass of amber-colored wine. "I fear he has dominated all of your
time in my country. People will begin to talk soon, of the interest my
political advisor has taken in my fiancée."