by Julie Miller
“Unhappy about the changes happening in Lukinburg?”
“Or it’s personal. Somebody really hates your guts. Enough to kill you in a dozen different ways. Poison. You said someone shot at you. Bombs.” She stopped in front of him again, her hand finding his where it rested at his waist. She squeezed his fingers, emphasizing the dire turn of her suspicions. “Maybe there’s a team of would-be assassins, each with his or her own specialty. Different members of these Lukin Loyalists.” She closed her eyes and shook her head as if the possibilities were overwhelming. “Or one person wants us to think it’s a group of individuals who are after you by varying the means of their attacks.” Her eyes popped open. “Since there are a lot of suspects with motive, maybe we should focus on the means—how these crimes are being committed. We should look at anyone who has experience with explosives, as well as anyone with access to poison, syringes, that kind of medical or chemical expertise.”
“More than one assassin?” He muttered Danya’s favorite curse. “Every able-bodied citizen in Lukinburg is required to serve at least two years in our military. Not everyone sees combat, but theoretically, any of my people could have knowledge of explosives. Or poison.”
“We should check their service records, then. Maybe someone worked as a medic? Nurse? An exterminator? Can you do that? Do you know how to do research? Or does someone always do that for you?” She released his hand, frowning as if the idea of him using a computer or analyzing data was foreign to him. “If you give me access to that information, I could look it up for you.”
“Not easily. All but the most basic personnel information is encrypted for security reasons. Filip changes the codes regularly.”
“So, that’s a dead end. How are we ever supposed to get an upper hand on this predator?”
He caught her hand before she pulled away. This time he was instilling some clarity into her. “I have not always been the prince. Once upon a time, I worked in my uncle’s business. Growing up, I worked in a mine. I was a soldier for six years. I know how to get information. I know how to get a job done.” He paused when he realized he was defending his manhood, at least a little bit. He released her hand to rake his fingers through his short hair. “Filip would be suspicious if you make inquiries. I will do this. I do not want the threats against me to become threats against you.”
“Just tell me where to look and I can—”
“This job is more impossible than I could have imagined.” He wasn’t going to argue about this. As much as he needed an ally, he didn’t want to see her hurt. Or crashing into an emotional catharsis again. “I never meant for anyone in your family to get hurt. I will speak to Captain Hendricks to remove you from the investigation and find another way to deal with the threats.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I have asked too much of you. Too much of anyone who is not a part of the Lukin—”
“I agree with the captain. It’s personal now.” She crossed her arms beneath his jacket, looking up at him with the same grit he’d seen when she’d taken down that pervert at the police station. “Even if this Loyalist group didn’t intend to hurt my family, they did. I made a deal with you. You didn’t ask me to help because I look pretty in a party dress and can dance in high heels—which, incidentally, I don’t know that I can. You needed a cop. You needed someone who could find answers without it looking like an official investigation. If I quit, who’s going to have your back?”
A smile spread slowly across his face.
That faint pink blush crept into her cheeks as she pulled back a step. “Why are you smiling? What did I say?”
He reached out to capture a lock of caramel-blond hair that had fallen over one eye and tucked it into place behind her ear. “Usually, people are not allowed to lecture the crown prince. You may advise me, but I make the decisions.”
“What are you deciding?”
“I like how you talk to me, like you are talking to the man—not the crown. Although, you should not do this in public. It undermines royal authority.”
“My badge is the authority I answer to. If I think you’re doing something wrong, something that might endanger you or anyone else, I have to speak up.”
He pulled his fingers from her silky hair and curled them into his palm. “Very well. I can see you are a stubborn woman. But I am a stubborn man. You may have my backside if you wish.” He knew his English phrasing wasn’t quite right. He’d find a translator if she didn’t understand. “But you will also allow me to have yours.”
“You can’t risk your life for me. I won’t—”
“Those are my terms. I cannot carry a gun, but there are things I can do to protect you and your family. I will not have you fighting this assassin, maybe an entire rebel faction, on your own.”
“I can call KCPD for backup.”
“Your booty is mine.”
Ivan felt the heat creeping up his own neck when a giggle snorted through her nose.
“Is that not the right word for your backside? I have yours as you have mine.”
“It’s okay, Ivan. I like keeping an eye on your booty, too.”
He didn’t need a translator to understand that. She’d just admitted that the attraction he felt wasn’t one-sided. Good to know. The timing and situation stank, but the possibility of something impossible between them smoothed the raw edges off his embarrassment and protective anger. “Then, despite my reservations, we shall continue working together. You are not alone.”
“You aren’t, either.” There was neither flirtation nor argument in her tone when she spoke again. The police officer was back. “Is there anyone in your delegation you trust without hesitation?”
His choices were limited. His bunk mate from basic training was the only one he’d reveal a secret to. “Aleksandr.”
“Then we need to enlist his help.”
Ivan scrubbed at the tension cording the back of his neck. “I would rather not.”
“You need every ally you can get.”
If he’d believed teaming up with Aleks had been a real option for this covert mission, he wouldn’t have needed to go to KCPD for help. “Aleks...is smart and has great vision for the future of our country. But he is also...how do you say it? His mind is absent.”
“Absentminded? He gets distracted?”
“Yes.” She should understand how preoccupied Aleks could get when he focused on his work—or on whatever pretty face or passing scenery caught his eye. “I do not know if he could handle himself in a dangerous situation. I would not want to put him in that position.”
“Then you have to let me investigate. You have to let me talk to your people, search through your records. I need answers, Ivan. Someone nearly killed my brother. They keep trying to kill you, and the more I get to know you, the more I don’t like that.” She fingered the badge that hung around her neck, perhaps reminding him of her oath to protect and serve, perhaps reminding herself. “They’re threatening to kill a lot of innocent people next Saturday. I need to stop them.”
He’d taken a similar vow when he’d agreed to become the crown prince. “We need to stop them. I will do what I can to get the information you require.”
“Don’t get caught, okay?”
He smiled at her persistence. “I will do my best.”
“I imagine your best is pretty good.” He followed her to the exit, reaching around her to open the door. She paused in the open doorway and tilted her face up to his. “Thank you.”
“I believe I am the one who should be thanking you, Carly.” He caught the end of her braid and rolled its dark golden weight in the palm of his hand. “Does your name mean lioness, by any chance?”
She glanced down at the strands he held, then back into his eyes. “No.”
“Surely you are named for your bravery and determination.”
She tugged the braid from his h
and. One of those endearing blushes heated the apples of her cheeks. “It’s the feminine version of Carl.”
“It is not short for something else? Carlotta?”
She shook her head. “Carly Rae Valentine. What you see is what you get.”
“I like what I see.”
She leaned back against the door frame, keeping her gaze locked on to his. She might not be used to intimacy with a prince, but she wasn’t afraid of it. “Are you trying to charm me, Your Highness?”
He braced his hand on the metal frame above her head, drifting in to maintain the closeness between them. “Is it working?”
She captured the end of his tie and examined it the same way he had studied her hair. “Thank you for caring about my family, about me. I know you have a lot on your mind.”
“At this moment, you are the only thing on my mind.” His voice had dropped to a husky whisper.
When she tilted her gaze back up to his, she tugged on his tie and stretched onto her toes. She kept coming until her mouth pressed against his. Her lips were tentative, perhaps unsure of their welcome, but the fingers curling into the front of his shirt and sliding against his jaw to hold his mouth against hers told a different story. Ivan was powerless to resist the sweet thank-you and eager invitation. Leaving one hand above her head, he slipped the other beneath the jacket, curving his fingers around her waist. His knuckles brushed against the gun she carried, but all he could feel was soft cotton and cool skin and the sinewy flex of the muscles running from her flank over the flare of her hip. Her kiss seemed to be an exploration, and Ivan seized the opportunity to learn the taste of her mouth, as well. Running his tongue against the seam of her lips, he coaxed her to open for him and swept his tongue into the soft heat of her mouth.
Her throaty squeak of surprise muted into a hum of pleasure as she welcomed and returned the need in his kiss. Her fingertips clung to the skin beneath his beard as her tongue darted into his mouth. They danced together in a new way, advancing, retreating. A gentle stroke here, firmer pressure there. A nip, a suckle. His body caught fire with the electricity surging between them. The slow build of heat burst into flame and he longed to back her into the door and sandwich her body against his. He wanted to learn her curves, match her strength to his. He wanted to get drunk on the scents of smoke and spice that clung to her skin and hair. When her hand slid around the collar of his shirt to dig into the tension he carried there, he was the one growling a hungry approval in his throat.
“Carly...” He tried to retreat. He wanted too much, too soon. “We are tired.” He kissed her. “I want you.” He kissed her again. “The hour is late.” He couldn’t seem to stop.
She dragged her teeth across his bottom lip and desire arced straight down to his groin, erasing any of the restraint he’d tried to grab onto. “Please tell me this isn’t part of the charade. It feels convincing to me.”
“Are you pretending?” he whispered against her lips.
“No.”
“Neither am I.” Claiming her mouth in a kiss that was anything but pretend, he drifted closer, sliding his hand down over the curve of her rump and squeezing its beautiful shape as he pulled her thighs into the arousal straining behind his zipper. His brain burned with the fever to have all of her. His heart pounded against his ribs. His pulse thundered in his ears.
A bright light flashed in the corner of his vision, shocking him back to common sense.
“The prince and his local Cinderella,” a man’s voice said. Ivan swore as a second flash went off from the hallway, capturing them in the open door. “Readers are going to eat this up.”
Ivan lifted his gaze to drill the reporter taking pictures of the embrace, even as he moved to stand between Carly and the unwelcome interruption. “I ask you to leave, sir. This is a private moment.”
“Obviously. Could I get a name, miss?” the reporter asked.
Ivan’s hand fisted at his side. A smaller, surprisingly strong hand curved around his, and Carly moved up beside him. “It’s all right.” She pulled back the front of the jacket to reveal the gun and badge she wore. She glanced at the man’s press credentials hanging around his neck. “Listen, Mr. Decker. I’m armed and dangerous. If I see that picture in the paper with any kind of crude story or suggestive headline, my boss at KCPD will be calling your boss.”
If her voice hadn’t started in that breathless tone, he might have thought she was unaffected by that mini make-out session. Still, Ivan wasn’t sure if he should admire her self-possession or feel offended that she could get over his kiss so easily. He shouldn’t have let things get out of hand. Losing focus like that was all on him. It was up to him to make this right.
He turned and called down to the waiting room. What the hell was security for if they didn’t do their job? “Filip!” He eyed the name badge and credentials hanging around the reporter’s neck. Ralph Decker. Kansas City Journal. Ivan didn’t recognize the man’s name from the press packet he’d reviewed on the plane. “I trust you will be as diligent about reporting on the fund-raising efforts my people are working on for your city this week, Mr. Decker?”
“You give me an invitation to that embassy ball, and you’re damn straight I’ll cover it. Unless you’ve got something a little meatier you’d like me to write about?” Decker had been fishing for an inside scoop all along. But he winked at Carly. “You never gave me your name, Miss...?”
“Officer Valentine.”
Decker nodded and reached for his phone to type in the name. “Gettin’ a little personal protection, eh, Princie?”
Filip Milevski’s bulk rushed past them in a blur. “I am sorry, Your Highness.” He clamped his hand around the reporter’s arm and dragged him down the hallway. “You lied to me. You said you were going to—”
“Hey, if I’m getting stuck with this lousy story, then I’m going to make sure I have something to write about.”
“You go. Now.”
Decker raised his free hand in surrender, and Filip released him, staying right by the reporter’s shoulder as he walked to the elevator under his own power. The rest of their conversation became inconsequential.
Carly shrugged out of Ivan’s jacket and pushed it into his arms. “I need to check with Dad and Jesse. Find out what you can. I’ll call the crime lab later to see if they can tell me anything else.”
He caught her by the arm before she sprinted away. “That kiss was not a charade,” he articulated as clearly as he could. “Not for me.”
“It makes our cover look authentic, though, doesn’t it?” Her brusque dismissal left him thinking she might not believe him. “Good night, Ivan.” She twisted away before he could stop her, nearly plowing into Aleks as he turned the corner. “Mr. Petrovic.”
“Miss Valentine.” And then she was gone. Beyond Ivan’s reach, beyond his line of sight. Beyond any chance to talk about that kiss and the potential fallout she might endure from the press. Aleks’s dark brows arched above the rim of his glasses as he ambled up. “That should have been ‘Good night, Your Highness.’”
Ivan shook his head, torn between duty and doing the right thing by Carly. “Don’t start with me, Aleks,” he muttered in their native language.
“A late-night rendezvous?” Aleks glanced toward the elevators where Filip waited with the photographer to escort him out of the hospital. He spoke purposeful English, as they’d agreed to while they were in the States. “I cannot wait for that headline.”
“It was one kiss.” One hell of a kiss. A kiss that could have led to something more if the world would just leave him the hell alone. He pulled on his jacket, unable to ignore the faint essence of grill smoke and cooking spices clinging to the wool from Carly’s skin and hair. “I thought you left with Galina.”
“Temper, temper, my friend. You are forgetting yourself. And the promise you made to me, to our entire country.” Aleks’s amusement faded as he circled aro
und Ivan into the private room. “May I talk to you for a moment? As your friend?”
Ivan exhaled a deep sigh of frustration before closing the door behind him. Weariness dogged at his heels, so he dropped onto the room’s love seat, crossed his right foot over his left knee and leaned back into the stiff cushions. “Go ahead.”
“I know you have not been the prince for that long.” Aleks poured himself a cup of coffee. Ivan refused the offer for a cup of his own. He was already exhausted and didn’t need caffeine to disrupt the two or three hours of sleep he’d be getting. “You cannot be seen in an embrace like that with someone like—”
“Like what? Be very careful what you say next, Aleks.” His friend wisely chose not to complete that sentence. “You are the one who seems to be treating this trip as if it was some grand adventure. Am I not allowed to have a few moments where I do not have to be on for meetings or the public or press? Carly means something to me.”
“Does she?” Aleks challenged. “You and I both know she is not your old friend from the army.”
“That does not mean the feelings are not real.” Ivan pulled off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
Aleks sipped his coffee, made a face at the taste and dumped it down the sink before tossing the paper cup into the trash. All a stall for time, and the opportunity to come up with the right words, Ivan suspected. “I do not begrudge you this relationship. But there are expectations. We need our trade partners to know we are serious, and not think we are in Kansas City for you to fool around...” He took a seat across from Ivan and leaned in. “She is delightful to converse with, but she seems...coarse. Tell her to wear a dress. Tell her to at least hide that gun. It looks as though you are consorting with a gangster. Like someone from the old regime.”
Ivan shot to his feet, towering over his friend. “She is an honored police officer. A military veteran.”