“This is a cottage?” Taylor asked, unable to keep the awe from her tone.
“It’s a leftover from the original estate,” Alex told her as she parked her car. “Apparently, a wealthy doctor built the house for his aging mother. We plan to tear it down to build a parking garage.”
What a shame.
The elegant house had a steep pitched roof, bay and dormer windows, a single front door and a half basement with railings around it. They climbed a narrow set of stairs to the front door. So far, from a security point of view, Taylor liked what she’d seen. The chimney was too narrow to gain entry from the roof and she envisioned mounting cameras on the upper shutters where they wouldn’t be noticed.
But what made her even happier was the house’s size. To her, a cottage was a one-bedroom cabin with a combination living-kitchen eating area. However, this “cottage” obviously had several bedrooms and that thought eased the tightness in her chest.
Although Alex hadn’t done or said one thing that made her uneasy being around him—he hadn’t had to. His maleness alone made her wary. She thought she had overcome her prejudice, knew in her head that all men weren’t like her brother, who’d taken out his anger on his little sisters with punches and slaps. Most men didn’t beat women. She also knew that all men weren’t cheaters like her ex-husband—but thanks to the actions of the men in her life, she expected the worst and always kept up her guard.
Her sister Diana had told Taylor that her attitude was unhealthy, but that didn’t change the fact that trusting anyone with a Y chromosome had become inconceivable. At least she didn’t have to worry about trusting Alex; he could obviously have any woman he wanted. He wouldn’t be interested in her—a woman who didn’t even like to be touched.
Alex unlocked the door and stepped back. She was about to step across the threshold but he raised his hand in a gesture that suggested she halt.
“Is something wrong?”
“We have a custom in Vashmira, when a husband and wife enter their new home for the first time, they kiss for luck.” His voice was low, husky, and set her alarm bells jangling.
He wasn’t going to kiss her. “We aren’t in Vashmira.”
“This embassy is Vashmiran territory.”
He wasn’t going to kiss her. “You’re supposed to be an American.”
He leaned toward her. “You have a similar custom, yes? When a bride and a groom—”
She wasn’t going to let him kiss her. “We aren’t married,” she told him, refusing to retreat, but somehow she’d backed her rear against the door.
“We are pretending to be married. Married people kiss.”
“I believe the operative word is pretending.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just who is going to believe we are married if every time I touch you, you jump?”
“So then don’t touch me.” She forced her feet to advance and brushed past him without looking back. Her pulse was racing just from their conversation, and her scalp had prickled with sweat. Fear had flooded through her with a sickening swell. She hated this weakness in herself, hated that the mere suggestion of a kiss could make her tremble, as though she hadn’t learned to put her past behind her.
Alex flicked on the light, but she didn’t turn around to face him, didn’t want to see his emotions when she was having enough trouble dealing with her own. She distracted herself with the front hall, which had a wooden floor, a charming fireplace, built-in niches and an archway that led to a drawing room. The cottage came fully furnished and there were racks for coats, canes and umbrellas, several straight-backed chairs and a heavily carved chest with a mirror hanging over it. Expensive antiques, she was sure.
She caught a glimpse of Alex in the mirror. He watched her. Keeping his distance, he’d hooked his hands into his overalls as if to keep them from reaching out to her, knowing she needed the room between them to feel safe.
“Did you hear that?” she asked, looking up the stairs where she thought she’d heard a thump.
He shook his head.
Perhaps it had just been the roaring of the blood in her head. Yet her hand automatically reached for her gun. She intended to check the house thoroughly for intruders.
She inspected the downstairs rooms—the drawing room, dining room, kitchen and the study with its dusty billiard table and antique penny slot machine. Although she heard no additional suspicious noises, she opened every closet door and checked the back door and all the window locks.
“Satisfied?” Alex asked her, his patience obviously wearing thin.
“I need to search the second floor.”
“How about I bring our things in from the car?”
He hadn’t been out of her sight all day, except to use the bathroom. At her apartment he hadn’t seemed the least bit curious; she’d been grateful when he’d waited on the sofa while she’d gathered her things together. Luckily, with most of her equipment in her car trunk from a previous job, she had everything she needed to place a security system in the house.
“I’d rather you stayed with me.” The moment the words came out, she realized that she’d implied something she hadn’t meant. She thought a playboy like Prince Alexander might make a joke or tease her, so when he simply frowned, she felt relieved.
“Why do you want me to stay inside?” he asked.
“So I can protect you.”
She realized the contradictions in her were somewhat ludicrous. She was a woman whose heart raced at the mention of a kiss. Yet she was quite capable of making security arrangements and of protecting the prince with her gun. An expert shot, she practiced shooting and self-defense often. While no martial arts expert, she could deflect a kick or a punch. Mostly she did her job by using her brains and avoiding trouble before it began.
To his credit, Alex didn’t point out that he was twice her size and strength. He merely followed her up the stairs. She flicked on the lights and checked out the three smaller rooms, including the closets and under the beds, before heading to the master bedroom.
She flicked on the light. In the second between darkness and light, she spotted a silhouette. A man sat on a queen-size bed, regarding her with sharp eyes that hinted at a keen intelligence.
He ignored the gun she pointed directly at his heart. “Please, come in.”
Chapter Four
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m CIA Agent Hunter Leigh.”
His name meant nothing to Taylor, and she kept her gun aimed at the dark-haired stranger’s heart. Although he’d been careful not to make one threatening move, she suspected he could. The average thug had neither his kind of clearly superior physical control, which allowed him to remain motionless, nor the will-power to project confidence and radiate charm at the same time.
She had to determine whether the stranger was friend or foe, and really a CIA agent. She wouldn’t be rushed, and signaling Alex to remain hidden, she assessed the threat, instantly recognizing that she faced a very dangerous man. While, at the moment, Hunter Leigh didn’t appear hostile, his mere presence inside the cottage bedroom warned her to remain on guard.
First, he’d been waiting for them—expecting them—which meant he’d either followed them without her having noticed or he’d been thinking several moves ahead. Either option revealed a man with superior capabilities and someone who might or might not know that the prince was about to walk into this room.
Second, Hunter hadn’t turned on the lights, which meant he had wanted to keep his presence here secret. And when she had turned on the lights, she’d noted that he had positioned himself so curious onlookers or casual observers couldn’t have spotted him through the window.
Third, he wasn’t their enemy, or he would never have given up the advantage of surprise and he’d have attacked long before now.
Hunter Leigh meant Alex no immediate harm.
The conclusion brought relief, more than she’d expected. In the short time she’d known Alex she’d come to like him. And if she were ever agai
n to let herself be interested in a man, it would be someone like Alex, someone likable, who didn’t take himself too seriously. However, she had no business letting her focus stray from the stranger on the bed.
After considering the circumstances and weighing her options, Taylor replaced her weapon in her pocket. Apparently her action signaled Alex to step around her and to stare hard at Hunter. “I recognize his name.”
“But not the man?” Taylor asked, curious at Alex’s tone, which seemed an odd combination of warmth and prudence with a touch of judgmental circumspection thrown in for good measure.
Alex confronted Hunter Leigh with the confidence so inherent in his character. “If he is who he says he is—”
“I am.” Hunter still didn’t move one muscle other than those required to speak.
Puzzled, without taking her gaze off Hunter, she asked Alex, “Just how do you know—”
“Hunter Leigh is Princess Tashya’s fiancé,” Alex explained, his voice giving no hint of either his approval or disapproval of the betrothal.
Since Alex didn’t recognize Hunter Leigh on sight, trusting the stranger could prove to be a huge mistake. For all they knew, he could be the assassin claiming to be Hunter—except if that were the case, he would have been shooting bullets at them, not merely talking.
All the same, Taylor was glad Alex hadn’t broken the cover they’d just established for him by admitting that Tashya was his sister. Once again she realized Alex hid a keen mind behind his playboy reputation. He adapted to emergencies, coping well with the unexpected and thinking quickly on his feet. Admirable traits that had kept him alive and had made her realize that first impressions could be oh, so deceptive.
She kept one hand in her pocket close to her weapon and placed the other on Alex’s wrist, communicating her distrust of Hunter with a slight warning squeeze. “Can you give us proof of your identity?”
Hunter’s eyes locked on Alex. “Tashya said to tell you that she’d prefer to marry me than the Toad.”
Beside her, Alex chuckled, his tone warm, light and as rich as chocolate drizzled over fudge cake. He removed his ball cap and sunglasses and tossed them onto the bed.
“The Toad?” she asked, still confused.
“Tashya’s pet name for the crown prince of Moldova,” Alex explained. “It’s an inside joke that she would only tell to someone she trusted.”
Taylor supposed she would have to take the intimate reference as proof. Identification could easily be faked, backgrounds manufactured. She found herself trusting Alex’s evaluation of Hunter and felt safe with her decision. The prince was no fool. He’d proven that by escaping an assassination attempt, by hiring her, and by inserting them back into the embassy. If Alex believed Hunter Leigh was his future brother-in-law, she could accept his assessment—especially since the prince was fully aware that his life could depend on it.
Hunter stood. Alex walked forward and the two men shook hands. “Nicholas sent you? My sister couldn’t have been pleased.”
Taylor noted the way Alex’s voice softened when he spoke about his family. Without his telling her so, she understood that the siblings were close and that he cared about them a great deal. The first words out of Alex’s mouth hadn’t been about his current problems and the attempt on his life, but about his sister. Taylor’s opinion of the prince rose yet another notch.
Hunter gestured for them to take seats. “Tashya and Nicholas were worried about you.”
“Were?” Taylor frowned, remaining on her feet.
“The moment I recognized the prince on the security cameras, I faxed Nicholas that his brother is alive and back at the embassy.”
Alex sighed. “You recognized me that easily?”
“I’m a trained observer. Your disguise should be sufficient to fool most people. The blond hair is a clever touch. And the overalls are perfect.”
While Hunter’s approval of Alex’s disguise reassured her, Taylor couldn’t help from voicing the nagging worry that had zipped through her. Sending a message to Alex’s family could have alerted Alex’s enemies to their presence here. She didn’t bother keeping the concern from her tone. “Well, I hope you sent that message in code or—”
“I did,” Hunter assured her, and then reached into his front pocket. He took out two pieces of paper with randomly punched holes and handed one to Alex. “Your brother and I have matching keys. I made another so you can have one, too. Just place this paper over a coded note and the letters that show through will reveal the message.”
He went on to explain that fax numbers were written on the top of the page in case they needed to contact Nicholas or himself. At Hunter’s explanation, Taylor felt a measure of relief. Hunter knew his business, and she was glad he was on their side. On the other hand, if Nicholas believed that Alex needed a man of Hunter’s obvious expertise, he was confirming her conviction that the royal family had serious enemies. Deadly serious.
Alex carefully folded the paper and stuffed it into the pocket of his overalls. “Does Nicholas know who was behind the deaths of our guards?”
Again, the prince impressed her. He hadn’t asked who was out to kill him, but who had shot his guards. Taylor couldn’t help respecting such genuinely unselfish behavior—especially in the face of continuing danger.
Hunter shook his head. “While you remain here and keep watch on your fellow countrymen, I’ll check my resources for terrorists, signs of political activists and outside threats to Vashmira. However, Nicholas and I both suspect the danger is coming from inside your country. Specifically from someone you trust.”
“Who are the suspects?” Taylor asked.
“Three men top the list and Nicholas is sending them all here. Anton Belosova, Secretary of State, General Levsky Vladimir, head of Vashmira’s military, and Ira Hanuck, Chief of Palace Security. They arrive tomorrow.”
“Their possible motives?” Taylor asked.
“Power.” Alex answered succinctly. “Someone is trying to kill off my family and usurp the throne.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “The bastards killed my father and now they are after the rest of us.”
Taylor looked from Alex to Hunter. “You believe this is a conspiracy? Then why isn’t Nicholas being attacked?”
“He was,” Hunter told her, “until the U.S. government sent Secret Service agents to protect him and his queen. Right now, Alex is the target.”
“Because he’s alone and vulnerable?” Taylor asked.
Alex turned thoughtful. “If we play our cards right, we can use their interest in me to our advantage.”
Whoa. She didn’t like the hard edge in Alex’s tone or the responding gleam of approval in Hunter’s eyes. She hadn’t been born yesterday. She knew what they intended. They wanted to use Alex as bait.
ALEX TOOK ONE LOOK into Taylor’s expressive eyes and was slightly taken aback by the fierce gleam of anger that seemed to come from out of nowhere. She hadn’t exhibited one sign of feminine interest in him, hadn’t appeared to make even one decision based on emotion, but, instead, had always seemed to use what Alex thought of as sensible logic. While he could never forget that a woman with her terrific good looks was a woman, he had been thinking of her as a partner, a competent partner he could count on. Since he didn’t have a clue as to the reason for her anger, he assumed she thought Hunter was usurping her position, especially when she glared at him.
Taylor didn’t raise her voice to Hunter, but her anger rang through her every word. “I’m not letting you stake Alex out for bait while the stalkers circle ’round and we wait to see which jackal pounces first.”
Damn. He’d read Taylor dead wrong. She wasn’t thinking about the possibility of Hunter usurping her position. She was worried about him. The realization rocked him back on his heels and created a warm glow. He’d simply expected her to take a back seat to Hunter, but instead she was challenging the CIA man.
Taylor’s anger reminded him of another woman. His sister would react in exactly the same way—wi
th loyalty, standing up to any man who threatened her brothers, be they the press, kidnappers or gossips.
Alex suspected that if his sister and Taylor met, they would soon become good friends, recognizing one another’s strengths. Much as he had immediately trusted Hunter because Tashya did, his sister would approve of Taylor.
Alex suppressed his first impulse to soothe Taylor. Instead he took an acute interest in watching Hunter attempt to change her mind.
A man with obvious confidence in his abilities, Hunter looked Taylor straight in the eye. “I won’t use Alex for bait—unless he’s our last option. You need to understand that King Nicholas has sent over three powerful men—any one of whom could be the traitor. He’s giving us an opportunity to flush out—”
“Not at the expense of Alex’s life, he’s not,” Taylor argued.
Interesting. The woman was not just fierce, she could restrain her temper, too. The combination of a hot core wrapped in cool logic struck a chord in Alex. He adored women, liked the variations of femininity, appreciated the differences between the sexes, but Taylor kindled a fascination he had not felt before. She didn’t seem to care whether she offended Hunter even though he represented the interests of two countries. She didn’t care whether she offended his brother, the king of Vashmira, by messing up his plans. She didn’t care whether she offended Alex by speaking as if he didn’t have a mind of his own. After all, if anyone decided to risk his life—it would be him. Normally, he would have pointed out this fact, but the temptation to let Hunter argue with her proved too strong. Alex wondered if she’d react this way over any client’s life and couldn’t wait to hear what she would say next.
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