“We’re getting way ahead of ourselves,” Hunter told them. “Right now, we need information. I’m assuming you were hired as a gardener and a handyman to snoop around?”
“You’re avoiding the issue,” Taylor challenged.
Alex almost chuckled at her persistence. He found her stubbornness in defending him quite charming—especially since she didn’t appear to like him. However, he hadn’t overlooked the fact that although she didn’t like to be touched, she’d voluntarily taken his hand and gently squeezed it earlier. Of course the situation then had been far from amorous, but her action revealed to him where she placed her priorities. He imagined that changing those priorities might prove quite a challenge—one he looked forward to.
Although he’d seemingly made up his mind to pursue her on the spur of the moment; in reality, he’d been attracted to her from the instant they’d met. His interest had only heightened as he’d learned she wasn’t feigning her disinterest, but that she flat-out was not interested in him as a man. After watching her stand up to Hunter, the challenge of winning her trust seemed even more difficult and delicious.
Hunter didn’t deny that he’d sidestepped the issue of using Alex for bait. “Let’s hope that our snooping efforts will reveal the traitor.” He offered his hand to Taylor.
She hesitated, then shook it. Hunter nodded to Alex, their gazes locking above her head. Alex nodded slightly, indicating his willingness to do whatever must be done. Hunter took the silent message with him and left, his shadow merging into the darkness of the evening.
Taylor strolled to the window and stared down into the courtyard below. A silence yawned between them that Alex hesitated to break. He didn’t understand Taylor, who was different from the other women he had known.
So he hadn’t a clue what was going through her head. His instinct was to come up behind her and to put his arms around her. To show her with an action that he cared—since he couldn’t find the words. But Taylor wouldn’t appreciate such a gesture.
Alex could be patient when necessary. He waited for her to turn from the window. Waited for her to begin a conversation. But she said nothing. Didn’t move. He didn’t know when it got to be a contest in his head, but he figured that the first person to move or to speak would lose.
He lost.
He joined her at the window. Looked out into the night and saw what she saw. Although the cottage was located at the rear of the embassy, from this second-story window they had a clear view of the front gate. A limousine had arrived. Men unloaded baggage. Three men, one in uniform and two in dark suits, exited the vehicle.
Although their faces weren’t clear, Alex recognized them. “The man in uniform with the gold braid on his shoulder and the imposing stature is General Levsky Vladimir. The shorter man is Ira Hanuck, Chief of Palace Security, and the portly fellow in the ill-fitting suit is Anton Belosova, Secretary of State. And if I can see them from here, they can see us. Possibly recognize us.”
“There’s always been that possibility.”
He turned to her but she continued staring out the window. “To pull off this deception, we need to pretend to be husband and wife. Are you up to it?”
Finally she turned to him, amused. “I’m good at pretending.”
“Really? You jump every time I touch you.”
“Then don’t touch me.” She squared her shoulders and raised her chin as if girding herself for battle. “Just stand there while I kiss you.”
She couldn’t have surprised him more if she’d suddenly decided to leap out the window. She wasn’t playing a game. She wasn’t flirting. She was very, very serious, confusing him totally. “What are you saying?”
“Tip your head down,” she instructed. “But don’t move.”
She intended to kiss him. This woman who had defended him against one of the top agents of the CIA, this woman who wasn’t afraid to hunt assassins but who didn’t like his touch, intended to kiss him.
Alex had kissed many women. Some of them may even have told them they intended to kiss him, but no one had stunned him as Taylor just had by her simple declaration. Impressed by her determination, if not a little set back by her clear lack of enthusiasm, his blood nevertheless zinged in anticipation.
She lifted her lips to his. “Don’t lean forward.”
“Okay.” He hid his amusement along with his eagerness. When he stared into her eyes, something about her reluctance tugged at him and he suddenly had the urge to punch out the man who had done this to her.
“Don’t raise your arms.”
He swallowed hard, not only surprised by his willingness to cater to her every whim, but enticed by the combination of emotions he read on her face: tenacity, conviction and perhaps just a touch of curiosity. She was close enough for him to take in the scent of her hair, a light aroma that reminded him of a fresh spring rain. Without thinking, he started to raise his hand to run his fingers through her hair.
“Keep your hands where they are.”
Her soft instructions, whispered in a husky tone, made him ache for her. He found himself yearning for her touch and her kiss like an innocent kid. He’d had women who had taken control, even demanded control, women who liked to dominate, but that wasn’t Taylor’s way. He sensed that she’d been dominated in her past and the experience hadn’t been pleasant. If he could hold completely still, she would feel safe. He could give her safe, for now, but found himself yearning to give her so much more.
Slowly she brought her lips up, her eyes wide open, her pupils not the least bit dilated, her breath steady. He suspected that, while he was as eager for her kiss as a fired-up stallion, she felt nothing but resolve. On the rare occasions when a woman didn’t want him, he’d simply headed in another direction. However, this time, he held absolutely still.
Waiting.
Waiting for her to come to him. Letting her feel free, liberated and autonomous. Subduing his every natural impulse had him feeling as if he perched precariously on a high wire, where one sudden move would spoil the fragile balance of the moment.
Could that be his stomach lurching in anticipation of a kiss? Could that be his heart kicking into fourth gear?
“Perhaps…” she whispered uncertainly.
“Perhaps, what?”
“Could you close your eyes? Please.”
He bit back a groan. It wasn’t enough he’d promised not to move. She didn’t want him to watch her, either. Taylor Welles had no idea how difficult just standing there, waiting, could be. She couldn’t know that his heart had pumped too much blood to his head, making him light-headed. He was particularly grateful for the loose overalls that kept his swelling erection from her view.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d wanted a woman so badly. But he resigned himself to a long, cold shower tonight. If he got lucky, she might kiss him—but she wouldn’t do more. She needed a safety net, so she would never know how ready he was to make love. He could barely believe she had him so aroused with just the promise of a kiss, a kiss he would never receive if he didn’t comply with her request. He closed his eyes.
And waited.
TAYLOR DIDN’T KNOW if she could carry through with her bold suggestion. The words and directions had simply sprung from her as though she were another woman, a woman whose father hadn’t abandoned her, whose brother hadn’t beat her, whose husband hadn’t cheated on her.
Just knowing that Alex had probably bedded many women should have made her nervous. In fact, she felt the opposite, quite comfortable. Well, as comfortable as a woman who hadn’t kissed a man for five years could possibly be. They both knew the score. There was no romance involved. Just a prince and his private investigator pretending to be husband and wife.
Her kiss needn’t do anything more than prove to them both that she could act like a wife in front of others. And it calmed her nerves to know that Alex had absolutely no interest in her as a woman. Since he would never want her, he was the perfect candidate for her to practice on. She could tilt her h
ead back and reach his mouth with hers.
He was tall, but not too tall. Broad-chested in a natural way that made her think he’d look great in swim trunks. Or in a tuxedo. Or in a uniform.
He possessed a kind mouth with full lips that were slightly parted. Gathering her courage, she raised her mouth, taking care not to brush against him in any way, allowing only her lips to graze against his.
She was trembling so much she couldn’t tell if he reacted to the touch of their lips. His expression didn’t change and with his eyes closed, she felt almost anonymous. And oddly secure.
His lips were warm, surprisingly soft and pliant. With him standing so still, she took the opportunity to nibble and tease his bottom lip, exploring the slightly tangy taste of his mouth, breathing in a masculine scent that was distinctly his own.
“This isn’t so bad,” she murmured.
“If you’ll allow me to hold you, I could show you bad,” he teased, obviously already guessing at her answer since he didn’t reach for her.
“I don’t think so.” His soft words had simply been a test, one she was determined to handle. “I think I’d rather just kiss you again.”
“Be my guest.” He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. “This time you might try opening your mouth.”
“Why?”
“For a change of pace? For variety?”
She hesitated.
“You can back away whenever you wish,” he coaxed.
She felt silly. She was a divorced woman, not some convent-bred virgin. She could kiss a man, especially one who had deliberately made himself as unthreatening as a statue.
Her ex-husband had been demanding, impatient, the sex stressful. But Alex’s approach enticed her. He allowed her room to lightly explore the contours of his cheekbones, his jawline and the cords of muscles in his neck with her fingertips. She threaded her fingers through his blond hair, deliberately delaying another kiss.
“You are a tease,” he told her.
“Was that a complaint?”
“A fact.”
“You want me to stop?” she asked, surprised by the silky texture of his hair, shocked that she was actually enjoying the give-and-take between them. Pleased that she was taking the first steps to putting her past behind her.
“I want…you to do…whatever you wish.”
Wow. Talk about trust. Alex didn’t know her. But then she realized that with a reputation such as his, he was probably bored by her timidness. At least he’d had the courtesy not to yawn or to make fun of her reluctance. She supposed he met women who dragged him into bed without a moment’s hesitation. For a moment she wished she could be that kind of confident woman—not for him, but for herself.
She wished she could feel passion without fear, make love without hesitation. She wished she could explore without reservation, kiss without reluctance.
Where was her courage when she needed it? Alex was offering her whatever she wanted to take—no strings attached. And he had enough respect for her to allow her to make up her own mind. She shouldn’t blow the opportunity.
She must be insane to hesitate. The man was a prince. He was gorgeous and rich. And completely at her disposal.
Surely she could acquire enough nerve to do more than lightly graze his mouth with hers?
She still hadn’t decided what to do when a loud banging on the downstairs front door broke into her thoughts. In less than a second she stepped back from Alex, replaced her hand on her gun and turned toward the clamor.
Chapter Five
Alex fought past the roaring in his ears and battled his spinning senses. Taylor’s erotic spell had not only entranced him, but had wrapped him in a silken web of desire that she’d woven as skillfully as any courtesan.
Opening his eyes, he blinked through the haze of passion she’d created by the mere brush of her lips on his and the slightest grazing of her fingertips over his face. She’d stunned him, evoking a reaction he’d never expected and couldn’t rationalize. Although the shock had yet to wear off, he had to compose himself.
The incessant pounding downstairs hadn’t let up, and Taylor was already out of the room and halfway down the steps. She’d flicked on the lights, allowing him to grab his stuff from where he’d tossed it on the bed, jam his hat on his head and don his sunglasses, grateful for the clear part of the lenses that allowed him to see in the dark. His disguise completed, he took the stairs three at a time.
He caught up with Taylor just as she opened the door. He noticed that she kept her hand in the pocket that held her gun and stepped directly between Alex and the intruder. She protected Alex with her life as casually as other women buttered their bread.
An embassy aide stood on the outside stoop. “Come quick. Bring your tools. There’s a fire in the embassy and we think people are trapped.”
Hoping he was up to fixing the problem, Alex picked up his tool belt and slung it around his waist, glad that the aide didn’t see him fumble to buckle the stiff leather. In the process of donning the heavy tool belt, he dropped a screwdriver and bent to retrieve it.
Alex listened to Taylor question the aide. “How big is this fire?”
“It’s contained on the second floor in one office.”
“How far are the trapped people from the fire?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Where exactly is the problem?” Alex asked.
“We think the fire’s in General Vladimir’s or the secretary of state’s office. We’ve called the fire department. Right now the fire seems small, but if the sparks keep flaring, the entire embassy may go up in flames.”
“Let’s go.” Alex picked up his tools and stepped past the aide, leaving Taylor to decide whether she was coming with them. He wasn’t certain whether a gardener would follow her handyman husband into this kind of emergency, but he suspected that Taylor wouldn’t stay behind.
She didn’t hesitate, simply closing the door behind them. Without saying a word, she remained by his side, vigilant.
They hadn’t gone fifteen meters—forty-five yards, he recalculated in American terms—before they turned a corner and spied spectacular flames shooting out a window. Devilish sparks glowed and hellish smoke billowed from curtains that had caught fire. The sprinkler system had quickly contained the flame but had the sparks caught elsewhere? The stench of burning fabric and scorched metal hurried his steps.
“Has anyone called the police or an ambulance?” Alex asked, hoping that help would arrive before he proved that he knew very little about his job. He could fake his way through small repairs, but this emergency seemed too big for even a qualified handyman to handle.
“We’re hoping that won’t be necessary,” the aide replied. “General Vladimir fears a security breach and doesn’t want foreigners inside our embassy. When the firemen arrive, he’ll allow them to enter, but he claims that it’s too easy for our enemies to use the emergency to insert a spy in our midst.”
Great. And if the embassy burned to the ground, it would delay Nicholas’s efforts to solidify his ties with the West. His big brother wouldn’t be happy with another delay, wanting to consolidate support back home. But his first priority had to be to free the people trapped in the building before it burned to the ground.
When they entered the building, Alex was grateful for his hat, which protected him from the overhead sprinklers. His glasses fogged, but he didn’t dare remove them and simply wiped his sleeve over the lenses. Inside, the burning smell mixed with the reek of damp carpets. Water squashed under his feet, causing him to wonder how long the sprinkler system had been on and why he hadn’t been summoned sooner.
Taylor stuck closer to him than a shadow, her presence a constant reminder that they might not just be walking into a burning building with electrical problems to save people locked in an office, but into an ambush. Yet she hadn’t hesitated and she’d done her best to remain inconspicuous. Just having her by his side gave him confidence.
Alex had fled this building during the night
under horrific circumstances, leaving a wave of dead bodies behind. Returning and walking past the places where loyal men had died to protect him renewed his determination to save those trapped inside and to seek justice. But were tonight’s problems caused by faulty construction, an accident, or something more sinister?
Between the lack of lighting and his steamy glasses, he was having difficulty seeing much in the dark hallway. Reaching for his tool belt, he found his flashlight on the third try and flicked it on. Water damage would be costly and set back the completion of the interior. At least the art had yet to be hung on the walls and most of the computer equipment hadn’t been installed.
“Has the rest of the building been evacuated?” Taylor asked.
“Yes, ma’am. You might not want to stay. The sparking in the secretary of state’s office was really terrible.”
“I’m not leaving my husband alone,” Taylor stated matter-of-factly.
“Is that where you are taking us?” Alex asked the aide. “To the trapped people?”
“You’re supposed to break down the door and free them.”
Alex frowned and made a quick decision. He hoped to stop the fire from spreading to the trapped people by the quickest means possible. “We need to shut off the electricity before we attempt to free them. Where’s the breaker box?”
He might be the hired handyman, but he’d just arrived on the job this evening. Although he couldn’t be expected to know the entire construction layout on his first day, it made perfect sense to shut off the electricity before breaking down the door.
“It’s probably outside,” Taylor muttered uneasily, clearly as suspicious of the aide as Alex was. Either the aide was ignorant of all things mechanical or he’d been ordered to lead them inside.
Keeping the aide in his sight, Alex swung down a hallway that led to the nearest exit. The aide should never have led them inside and, by following, he hoped they hadn’t somehow jeopardized the lives of those trapped or walked into a trap themselves. He had an uneasy feeling, but realized that unless someone had already discovered his secret identity, he was being paranoid. Still, it paid to remain on guard. Although not many people were as intelligent and vigilant as his soon-to-be brother-in-law, if Hunter had figured out their scheme, others could do so, as well.
Royal Pursuit Page 6