Taking a deep breath, she gathered her briefcase and went to join them.
Joe was looking down at the ring on his hand. “Did you know this ring is worth more than a new car?” he mused. “And did you know old Ted has about twenty of ’em?”
Mac Forrest grinned at Veronica, slapping Joe on the back one more time as they walked down the hotel corridor. “You couldn’t tell it was Joe, could you?” Forrest asked her.
Veronica glanced up at Joe. She wasn’t prepared for the jolt of warmth and energy that surrounded her as she met his dark eyes. He was smiling at her, and she found herself smiling foolishly back, until she realized the Admiral had asked her a question. She tore her eyes away.
“No, sir, I couldn’t,” she answered hoping that she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “Except…”
“What?” Joe asked.
She looked up at him, bracing herself before meeting his hypnotizing eyes again. “You said ‘Thank you,’” she replied. “Tedric wouldn’t dream of thanking a servant.”
“Well, maybe ol’ Ted’s been reading up on the American version of Miss Manners,” Joe said. “Because for the next five weeks, he’s going to be saying ‘thank you’ to all the lowly servants. And maybe even ‘please,’ every now and then.”
“That’s fine with me. I think everyone should say thank-you. I think it’s rude not to,” Veronica said.
“The equipment you ordered is coming in late tonight,” Admiral Forrest said to Joe. “It’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
“We leave the hotel at oh-eight-hundred?” Joe asked.
Veronica dug into her briefcase and checked the schedule. “That’s right,” she said. “There’re a number of public appearances—just visual things—a chance for the news reporters to get footage of you climbing in and out of limousines and waving. Tomorrow night there’s an optional embassy function, if you feel up to it. There will be people there who know Tedric quite well, though. You’ll have to be ready to recognize them.”
“Can you recognize them?” Joe asked.
“Well, yes,” Veronica said. “Of course. But—”
“Then I’m ready,” he said with a grin.
“We’ve ordered a surveillance van,” Admiral Forrest said to her. “You’ll have the seat of honor at the main mike. Joe will wear an earphone and a microphone so the communication can go both ways. He’ll hear you and you’ll hear him. And we’ll have miniature video cameras set up, so you’ll be able to see both Joe and from Joe’s point of view.”
They stopped outside the royal suite, waiting while West went inside to make a quick security sweep. “All clear,” he said, coming back out. The entire group moved into the room.
Admiral Forrest clasped Joe’s hand again. “Good job, son.” He nodded at Veronica. “You, too, missy.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to make some status reports.” As Mac turned to leave, he shook his finger at Joe. “No more unauthorized field trips down the outside of the building,” he admonished. “No more games.” He turned to the other SEALs, Blue, Cowboy and Harvard, who were standing by the door with the FInCOM agents. “You’re on the same side as security now,” he said to them. “You make sure Lieutenant Catalanotto stays secure. Have I made myself clear?”
“I gave them liberty tonight, Admiral,” Joe interjected. “I figured—”
“You figured wrong,” Forrest said. “As of thirty minutes ago, this operation has started.”
Cowboy clearly wasn’t happy about that.
The admiral opened the door to the hallway. “As a matter of fact, I need to see this security team in the corridor, pronto.”
“But, sir—” Cowboy started.
“That was an order, Ensign,” Forrest barked.
Still, the three SEALs didn’t move until Joe gave them an almost-imperceptible nod.
The door closed behind them and the room was suddenly silent.
“What was that about?” Veronica asked Joe, suddenly aware of how close they were standing, of how delicious he smelled, of how he managed to make even that ridiculous white jacket look good.
He gave her one of his familiar sheepish smiles as he sat on the arm of the sofa. “I think Mac’s realized that Diosdado could get lucky and take me out,” he said. “He doesn’t want to lose the commanding officer of the Alpha Squad.”
“He doesn’t want to lose a friend,” Veronica corrected him.
“He’s not going to,” Joe said. “I have no intention of dying.” It was a fact. His quiet statement combined with the certainty in his eyes and on his face convinced Veronica that it was, indeed, a fact. He looked hard and invincible, and quite possibly immortal.
But he wasn’t immortal. He was human. He was flesh and blood, and starting tomorrow morning, he was going to be a target. When he stepped out the hotel door dressed as Prince Tedric, there could be an assassin’s gun trained on him.
By tomorrow at this time, Joe could very well have been shot. He could be seriously injured. Or worse. He could be dead.
Permanently dead.
Joe might be able to disregard the danger, but Veronica couldn’t. He was going to be out in public with a security team that wasn’t up to par. Sure, the odds were better now that the three SEALs from the Alpha Squad had joined FInCOM’s team, but there were no guarantees.
Veronica was going to be safely tucked away in some surveillance vehicle where, if the terrorists did get through the security force, she’d have a front-row seat to watch Joe die.
He was sitting there watching her, and she was struck by his casual bravery, his unassuming heroism. He was doing this for Admiral Forrest, for the admiral’s dead son, and for all of the other U.S. sailors who’d been killed at Diosdado’s hands. And for all the people, sailors and civilians, who would be hurt or killed by the terrorists if they were not stopped here and now.
Yes, there was a chance that he might die. But in Joe’s eyes, it was obviously a risk worth taking if it meant they’d catch these killers. But what a tremendous risk, an incredible sacrifice. He’d be risking his life, his precious, irreplaceable life. It was the most he could possibly give. And to Joe, it was also the least he could do.
“Has anyone bothered to thank you for what you’re doing?” Veronica asked, her throat feeling unnaturally tight as she gazed into Joe’s eyes.
He shrugged, a loose casual move, echoed in his easygoing smile. “If it all works out, I’ll probably get the Ustanzian Medal of Honor.” He glanced down at the rows of Prince Tedric’s medals on his chest and made a face. “Considering Ted’s got four, I’m not sure I want one,” he added. “Even if I can talk ’em out of giving me one, there’ll be some kind of ceremony, and I’ll have to smile for the cameras and shake Ted’s sweaty hand.”
“And if it doesn’t work out…?” Her voice trembled.
He shrugged and his smile became a grin. “Then I won’t have to shake Ted’s hand, right?”
“Joe.”
He stood up. “Ronnie,” he said, mimicking her intensity. “Lighten up, all right?”
But she couldn’t. How could she lighten up when tomorrow he might very well be dead? Veronica glanced around the room, aware once again that they were alone. They were alone, and she might never have another chance to hold him in her arms.
Despite her resolve to stay away from Joe, Veronica stepped toward him, closing the gap between them, slipping her arms around his waist and holding him tightly, resting her head against his shoulder.
He was shocked. She’d seen the surprise in his eyes. She still felt it in the stiffness and tension in his entire body. Never in a million years had he expected her to put her arms around him.
As she started to pull back, she lifted her head and she could see a vulnerability deep in his eyes, a flash of almost childlike wonder. But it was gone so quickly, she was left wondering if she hadn’t imagined it.
He almost didn’t react. Almost didn’t. But before she pulled away, he encircled her with his arms, holding her gently but quite
firmly in place. He sighed very softly as he allowed his body to relax against hers.
Joe couldn’t make himself release her. Veronica was in his arms, and he was damned if he was going to let her go. She fit next to him so perfectly, they might have been made for each other. She was soft in all the right places, and firm in all the others. Holding her like this was heaven.
Veronica stared up at him, her ocean blue eyes wide.
There were few things he wanted right this moment as much as he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to plunder her soft, sweet mouth with his tongue. To kiss her deeply, savagely, until she clung to him, dizzy from desire. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the bedroom, where he’d undress her with his teeth and kiss every inch of her smooth, supple body before driving himself into her sweet, welcoming warmth.
He felt nearly delirious just thinking about it—the sheer bliss. And it would start with one small kiss…
He slowly lowered his head to kiss her.
Veronica gazed up into his eyes, transfixed, lips slightly parted.
He was a fraction of a second from paradise, and…she turned her head.
Joe’s mouth landed on her cheek as she quickly pulled free of his arms.
Frustration made every muscle in his body tighten. Damn it. What had just happened here? Hell, she’d made the first move. She was the one who’d put her arms around him. And then…
“Veronica,” he said, reaching for her.
But she stepped away from him, out of reach, as the door opened and the FInCOM agents and SEALs came back inside.
“I gotta run, Cat,” Admiral Forrest called out, waving briefly through the open door. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Be good.”
“Well,” Veronica said, her voice intentionally light as she collected her briefcase. “I’ll see you in the morning, Lieutenant.”
That was it? She was going to not kiss him and then just walk away?
She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she made a beeline for the door, and short of running after her and tackling her, there was little that Joe could do to stop her.
“Thanks again,” Veronica added, and she was out the door.
“Walk her to her room,” Joe ordered West, suddenly afraid for her, walking alone in the hotel corridor, even the short distance to her own room.
The man nodded and followed Veronica, closing the door behind him.
“Thanks again?” Cowboy echoed her departing words. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Joe. “Something happen in here we should know about?”
Joe shot him one long look. “Stop,” he said.
Cowboy started to say something else, but wisely kept his mouth shut.
Thanks again.
Veronica’s words echoed in Joe’s head. Thanks again.
She had been thanking him. Of course. When she had put her arms around him, she wasn’t giving in to the attraction that simmered between them. No way. She was thanking him. She was being the generous aristocrat thanking the lowly servant. Damn, he was such a fool.
Joe had to sit down.
“Everything all right, Cat?” Blue asked softly in his gentle Southern accent.
Joe stood again and headed for the bedroom. “Fine,” he answered shortly, keeping his head turned away so his friend wouldn’t see the hurt he knew was showing in his eyes.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN THE EMBASSY party started at nine—twenty-one-hundred hours according to Joe—Veronica was feeling an old pro at handling the equipment in the surveillance van.
She wore a lightweight wireless headset with an attached microphone positioned directly under her lips. Joe could hear every word she spoke through a miniature receiver hidden in his right ear. And Veronica could hear him quite clearly, too. His wireless mike was disguised as a pin he wore in the lapel of his jacket.
She could see Joe, too, on a TV screen built into the side panel of the van. Another screen showed a different angle—Joe’s point of view. Both views were courtesy of miniaturized video cameras discreetly held by several FInCOM agents. So far, Veronica hadn’t had much use for the TV screen that showed the world from Joe’s eyes. It would come in handy tonight, though.
The three SEALs from Alpha Squad were also wearing microphones and earphones patched into the same frequency that Veronica and Joe were using. It was easy to tell Blue’s, Cowboy’s and Harvard’s voices apart, and of course, she would recognize Joe’s voice anywhere.
More often than not, the SEALs used some kind of abbreviated lingo, using phrases like “LZ” and “recon” and “sneak and peek.” They talked about the “T’s” or “tangos,” which Veronica knew to mean terrorists. But for every word she recognized, they used four others whose meanings were mysterious. It was like listening to another language.
Throughout the day, Veronica had reminded Joe when to bow and when to wave, when to ignore the news cameras, and when to look directly into their lenses and smile. She’d warned him when his smile became a bit too broad—too Joe-like—and he’d adjusted instantly in order to seem more like the real prince.
The high-tech equipment made the process infinitely easier than any other job she’d ever done.
What she was never going to get used to, however, was the slightly sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched Joe on the video cameras and wondered when the assassins were going to strike.
“Okay,” came the word from Kevin Laughton, who was also in the surveillance van. “The limo is approaching the embassy.”
“Got it,” West said over the van’s speakers. “I see them coming up the drive.” FInCOM was using a different frequency for their radio communication. Joe’s earphone had been modified to maintain a direct link with them, too. If someone—SEAL or Fink—so much as breathed a warning, he wanted to hear it.
“Check, check,” Veronica heard Joe say into his mike. “Am I on?”
“We’re reading you,” Laughton said. “Do you copy?”
“Gotcha,” Joe said. “Ronnie, you with me?”
“I’m here,” Veronica said, purposely keeping her voice low and calm. Her heart was beating a mile a minute at the thought of Joe walking into the Ustanzian Embassy and actually relying on her for the information he needed to pull off his masquerade as Prince Tedric. And if she was on edge, he must be incredibly nervous. He not only had to think about successfully portraying Tedric, but he also had to worry about not getting killed.
“Cameras are on,” a FInCOM agent’s voice reported. “Surveillance van, do you have picture?”
“Roger that, FInCOM,” Veronica said, and Joe laughed, just as she’d known he would.
“What, are you getting into this?” he asked her.
“Absolutely,” she said smoothly. “I don’t know the last time I’ve so looked forward to an embassy party. I get to sit out here in comfort instead of tippy-toeing around all those dignitaries and celebrities, eating overcooked hors d’oeuvres and smiling until my face hurts.”
Joe leaned across the limousine, closer to the camera. “Overcooked hors d’oeuvres?” he said, making a face. “That’s what I have to look forward to here?”
“Ready to open the limo doors,” West’s voice announced. “Everyone in position?”
“Joe, be careful,” Veronica murmured quickly.
He touched his ear briefly, giving her the signal that he heard her. She saw something flicker in his eyes before he looked away from the video camera.
What was he thinking? Was he thinking of last night, of the way he’d almost kissed her? He would have kissed her again, and she probably would have kissed him, too, if she hadn’t heard the hotel-room door start to open.
Probably? Definitely—despite her better judgment. She should be grateful they had been interrupted when they were. She knew she was grateful that she’d heard the sound of the doorknob turning. How awful would it have been to have three FInCOM agents, three SEALs and one navy admiral open the door to find her locked in Joe’s embrace.
Joe had been o
ddly distant this morning—no doubt a direct result of her rapid flight from his hotel room last night. Veronica felt guilty about running away. But if she’d stayed, and if he’d pursued her, she would have ended up in his arms again. And, quite probably, she would have ended up in his bed.
She had thought maybe a little time and a little distance would take the edge off the attraction she felt for this man. But when she had walked out of her room this morning, Joe had been dressed in one of Tedric’s least flashy dark suits and was already waiting with the FInCOM agents in the corridor. She’d looked at him, their eyes had met, and that attraction had sparked again.
No, time and distance had done nothing. She’d wanted to kiss Joe as much this morning as she had wanted to kiss him last night. Maybe even more so.
The security team had led him down the hallway to the elevators and she’d followed a step or two behind. Once downstairs, they’d gone immediately to work.
Admiral Forrest had explained the array of equipment in the van, and Joe had stared unsmiling into the cameras as the screens and relays were checked and double-checked. She’d talked to him over her headset, and although his replies had started out terse and to the point, over the course of the long day, he’d warmed up to his usual self, with his usual sardonic humor.
“Doors are opening,” West announced now, and the pictures on the TV screens jumped as the agents holding the cameras scrambled out of the limo.
The paparazzi’s flashbulbs went off crazily as Joe stepped out of the long white car, and Veronica held her breath. If someone was going to shoot him, it would happen now, as he was walking from the car to the embassy. Inside the building, security was very tight. He would still be in some danger, but not half as much as out here in the open.
The FInCOM agents surrounded him and hustled him inside, one of them roughly pushing Joe’s head down, out of target range.
“Well, that was fun,” Veronica heard Joe say as the embassy doors closed behind them. “Warn me next time you decide to put me in a half nelson, would you, guys?”
Tall, Dark and Dangerous Vol 1: Tall, Dark and FearlessTall, Dark and Devastating Page 14