This undercover mission was clear...

Until one life-altering moment changed everything.

Carly Valentine never expected that she would have to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend, but when Ivan Mostek’s visit to Kansas City enrages his fiercest enemies, it’s the only way to keep him safe. Suddenly, the experienced cop is faced with a mission like none she has ever trained for. One in which fake feelings could turn into something all too real.

JULIE MILLER is an award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author of breathtaking romantic suspense—with a National Readers’ Choice Award and a Daphne du Maurier Award, among other prizes. She has also earned an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. For a complete list of her books, monthly newsletter and more, go to juliemiller.org

Also by Julie Miller

Rescued by the Marine

Do-or-Die Bridesmaid

Beauty and the Badge

Takedown

KCPD Protector

Crossfire Christmas

Military Grade Mistletoe

Kansas City Cop

APB: Baby

Kansas City Countdown

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Personal Protection

Julie Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09421-4

PERSONAL PROTECTION

© 2019 Julie Miller

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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For Jana Boyll Thompson, my singing buddy.

I so enjoy hanging out with you at City Singers

and doing a show together every now and then.

We’ll try not to get into too much trouble.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

About the Publisher

Prologue
May 1—Lukinburg Day in St. Feodor, on the steps of the historic palace square

“In three months, St. Feodor will play host to a group of dignitaries from our sister city in the United States. We will introduce the Americans to the charm of our country and show them that they need us as much as we need them. They need our rugged mountains, our beautiful beaches, our vast supply of natural resources, the skills and grace of our people.”

Cameras flashed in the crowd, and the low white noise of television and radio commentators from across Europe and the United States, speaking a dozen different languages, buzzed in the background beneath static from the old broadcasting system. The world was waiting for tiny, mountainous Lukinburg in Eastern Europe to blossom after decades of oppression to take its rightful place on the world stage once more.

A black-haired woman in a cream-colored suit moved in behind the prince at the podium and tapped him on the shoulder. “Do not forget to mention the city’s name, Your Highness,” she reminded him.

“Thank you, Galina,” the prince whispered before turning back to the microphone. “Kansas City, Missouri, our sister city, will become Lukinburg’s partner in worldwide respect and future prosperity. We shall be great friends.”

The crowd erupted in applause. He adjusted his glasses at his temple and scanned the throng of onlookers through the bulletproof glass surrounding the podium. He looked past the placards here to support the new regime to the handful of scowling doubters with their own less supportive signs, waiting for the opportune moment to voice a protest.

A public gathering of this size in the capital on one of the country’s biggest holidays once would have been a prime target for dissidents. Change was hard for any citizen. Change was the enemy to those who’d once held positions of power, who were now either imprisoned or being asked to embrace what was good for the country over what was lucrative for themselves. But the prince had reached out to those dissidents, had listened to their complaints and fears, had formed alliances and reached compromises with many of them. Yet, some of the most die-hard rebels hadn’t given up the fight, and they would always see the new monarchy as their enemy.

Lukinburg’s army had some of the finest trained soldiers in the world, and the plainclothes security force that now surrounded the country’s leaders at every venue were on constant guard against any threat that would topple the fragile new government. He looked at his friends and former military comrades flanking him on the podium. They were doing this. They were making Lukinburg great again. Their hard work and dedication had given the country reason to celebrate today.

Ivan Mostek, the crown prince of Lukinburg, was nearing the end of his long fight to replace the corrupt government of this country. A hardworking regency government and brave voters had replaced the corrupt dictator and mafia-like power brokers who had made Lukinburg a haven for criminals and arms trafficking. Part of electing a new Parliament and reestablishing the democratic monarchy this picturesque country had enjoyed before World War II was locating a true heir to the Lukinburg throne. As a distant cousin of the last legitimate king’s late grandnephew, that dubious honor fell to Ivan. Plucked from graduate school where he’d been earning his MBA, he’d accepted the position. Patriotism and DNA had left him with no other choice but to say yes, and accept that within the next year, he would be crowned king.

With the discovery of gold and mica deep beneath the mountains east of Lake Feodor, Lukinburg now had raw materials that countries in the West and Far East were clamoring to build their electronics and develop new computer technologies. The prince had implemented environmentally safe mining practices to sustain the new resources. From his newfound position of power, he was jump-starting the country’s economy, feeding the poor, capitalizing on new industries and putting people to work—all while paying tribute to Lukinburg’s traditional culture and storied history.

Public appearances were necessary to assure the citizens of the solidity of the new government. And public appearances meant crowds of people and noisy fanfare and making speeches. After the cheers had died down, he continued, “Kansas City’s manufacturing, agricultural and business leaders will be in our beautiful country, in this fair city, in three weeks. A carefully chosen delegation of representatives from Lukinburg will negotiate trade agreements and cultural exchanges that will benefit both our countries.”

He spied movement in the shadows of the pointed Gothic archways in the cathedral across from the palace steps where he stood. He looked across the podium to his friend Konrad Pavluk. They exchanged a nod of awareness. Konrad had spotted the movement, too. The other man drifted across the dais to stand beside Galina. Anyone less observant would have missed the hidden squeeze of hands, the subtle whisper of a warning. She nodded and moved up behind the prince again to relay a message.

The military marksmen stationed in decorative ramparts atop the stone buildings surrounding the public square didn’t seem concerned by the hooded man in the long coat making his way through the crowd of bystanders. Maybe they didn’t see him. Or perhaps, as the prince had confided to his best friend only days earlier, someone within his inner circle was still working with the extremists. Did the uniformed guards’ lack of response mean they were unobservant? Traitors? Was he overly paranoid about the prince’s safety because an attempt had already been made on his life?

Although that sniper had been captured and taken into custody, the threats against Ivan’s life continued. It had been random gunfire that had wounded his driver and ignited the engine of the car they’d taken to an ore refinement facility being built outside the city. Were the extremists here today? Mingling with this crowd of innocent civilians? Would they strike again, regardless of the casualties a group this big might sustain? Was the man in the hooded coat one of them?

He glanced over to the security chief, Filip Milevski. Although the dark glasses he wore made the direction of his gaze unreadable, the stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair was on the radio pinned to his wrist, no doubt asking for a situation update from his men and hopefully sounding a potential alert to stop the man who was now circling the fountain in the middle of the square.

The prince’s voice was slightly less composed, tinged with a bit of anger, when he continued. “I promise to make Lukinburg great again. We will move past the shame of our former leaders. We will return to the democratic monarchy of our ancestors. I will work closely with the new prime minister and your votes will count. All your votes,” he added, perhaps emphasizing to the extremists in the audience that they were not excluded from the new government.

Another round of cheers from the crowd nearly drowned out a lone dissenter who booed him. “You’re selling us out, Ivan!”

Security Chief Milevski sidled closer to the prince. “Wrap it up, Your Highness.” He moved Konrad and another one of his men farther down the granite steps in front of the podium. “There are too many of us exposed here. We’re all in danger.”

His gaze zeroed in on the hooded man. He’d sat on the edge of the fountain and was unbuttoning his long coat. The prince kept talking into the microphone, keeping the crowd engaged while members of the security team made their way through the onlookers to reach the suspect. “We need free trade. Our people need food.”

“Our people need a leader they can respect!” The protest came from another corner of the audience.

“I agree. For too long, we have been led by men our people fear. Fear doesn’t put food in people’s bellies. Our people are working again. They aren’t afraid to leave their homes and share their opinions and vote however they please.”

A tall man, with hair as black at the prince’s himself, moved in beside him with a whispered warning. “Your Highness. We need to go.”

The security team converged on the fountain as the hooded man stood. “End Ivan!”

“Bomb!”

There were too many screams to make out the words that followed. The crowd split and ran like a tidal surge away from the fountain.

“Stop him!”

“Save the prince!”

Armed men in suits ran forward.

A sniper guarding the gathering from a turret high above the street raised his rifle and took aim at the insurgent. But he was too late.

“Save yourselves!” Prince Ivan warned. His bodyguards swarmed around him and shoved him to the stone steps behind the podium. The square erupted with light and the deafening roar of an explosion.

The prince’s cheek scraped against stone as the black-haired man covered his body with his. His ears were stopped up by the concussive blast. But he heard the screams of his people, the stampede of running feet, gunfire, as if the violence was all happening far in the distance instead of a mere few yards beyond the podium.

He spotted blood on the steps a split second before something sharp and hot seared his skin, cutting through the invisible target on his back.

The prince’s public rallying speech in the heart of Lukinburg’s capital left him wounded. Landmarks had been damaged. People were injured, dead.

The dignitaries from Kansas City wouldn’t be coming.

Chapter One
August—Kansas City, Missouri

After the explosion in the palace square, the businesspeople and government officials Ivan Mostek needed to talk to in Kansas City had refused to travel to Lukinburg. They were concerned for their safety, and rightly so. The shrapnel scars on his back were still pink and tender from that attack.

But he wouldn’t give up on the new government’s vision to reform his country.

So, the prince had come to Kansas City. These negotiations were going to happen, no matter what a few leftovers from the old regime thought of him. They’d lost their power and weren’t above using an assassination to get it back. Perhaps the threats he faced were coming from loyalists who believed the modernization of their country would irrevocably change it, and they’d lose their cultural identity. What they’d lose was any kind of standing as a first world country. Their economy was dying, and the old ways didn’t feed his people.

Ivan Mostek, Crown Prince of Lukinburg, the symbolic leader of his country and heir to the throne, had no intention of giving power back to the thugs that had nearly ruined their country, nor did he intend to destroy any of the things that made Lukinburg so uniquely special. The plan was a good one. But he had to survive first. Survive this trip to the States. Survive until his coronation and hopefully live a long and healthy life afterward as the leader of Lukinburg.

The first step in that plan meant leaving his country and traveling to Kansas City for a week. The second step meant surrounding himself with people he trusted. That was proving more of a challenge than he’d expected since it seemed that no matter what security measures his team put into place, the threats kept coming. So, he’d put in a call to KCPD to ask for help from strangers. The local police had no ties to Lukinburg. He was counting on them to provide a layer of protection that couldn’t be influenced by politics, fear of change or revenge.

Striding up the steps from his limousine, Ivan followed his chief of security, Filip Milevski, into the lobby of Fourth Precinct headquarters. His trusted adviser and good friend, Aleksandr Petrovic, followed right behind him, while another bodyguard, Danya Pavluk, brought up the rear. His third bodyguard and new driver, Eduard Nagy, would park the car and wait for them to finish their respective meetings.

After lining up their visitor badges, Filip, a tall, beefy man with graying sideburns, punched the button to call the elevator. “I will escort you to your meeting with Captain Hendricks. Then Danya and I will meet with the SWAT captain and senior patrol officer to coordinate security at your public appearances.”

Ivan smoothed the knot of his tie and nodded. “Do not forget to have them set up extra officers outside the Lukinburg embassy on Saturday. Your team can work with embassy security inside, but the ball will dramatically increase traffic and bring many wealthy and important local and state people to that part of town.”

“I forget nothing,” Filip huffed, as though it was an insult to remind him. The elevator doors opened, and he waited for the car to empty before leading them inside. “I do not understand why you could not stay at the hotel and let me handle the police department. This Joe Hendricks you are meeting with is not on my list of contacts.” No, but Chief of Police Taylor had recommended the precinct captain when Ivan had called to ask for the secret favor. “I cannot control your safety when you surprise me with meetings that are not on your agenda.”

Ah, yes. Filip loved his routines. If he had any idea what Ivan was planning behind his back, he’d be livid.

“I told you, this is personal. You do not need to be involved.”

“But it is my responsibility—”

“I am inside a police station. I will be fine without you hovering over me.” He grinned at Aleks, who was people watching the comings and goings of officers, detectives, visitors and staff through the lobby checkpoint and service counters. He flicked his friend’s arm to get his attention. “You should have brought a camera,” he teased.

Aleks’s grin formed a bright crescent of white in his long black beard. “Did you see that plaque on the wall? They have created a memorial to a little girl—”

“Aleks...” Ivan urged his friend to join them. “Business first. Sightseeing later. You know we must—”

“Hold that elevator!”

Ivan’s sentence trailed off and he instinctively grabbed the door as a woman with a dirty, soot-streaked blond ponytail darted onto the elevator. She pulled in an equally grimy, handcuffed man by his upper arm and guided him to the corner farthest away from Ivan and his staff, ordering her captive to face the wall. Filip cursed under his breath as he and Danya quickly positioned themselves between Ivan and their guests and allowed the doors to close.

“Thanks.” He saw the woman wore fingerless gloves when she pushed some flyaway strands of hair off her face. He also saw the badge hanging from a chain around her neck. Ivan’s senses tingled with an alertness he had to hide. “Sorry. I didn’t relish dragging this dirtbag up the stairs or waiting for the next elevator.”

She wore a long, dusty man’s coat over jeans and worn leather boots that were nearly as big as his own feet. Gloves? Coat? Boots?

In August?

No wonder there was a sheen of perspiration on her pink cheeks.

As intrigued by her apparent toughness as he was curious about her ratty, overheated appearance, he offered her a succinct nod. “We are happy to oblige the local constabulary.”

Her prisoner glanced over his shoulder at Ivan. “What’s that mean?”

“Quiet.” The officer nodded toward the keypad and asked Filip to push the button for her. “Third floor, please.”

“We should not share an elevator, Your High—”

“This is fine,” Ivan insisted, reaching around his security chief to press the number three button himself. It was probably best not to advertise his real identity just yet. Not until all his security was in place. “We are here to make friends with the people of Kansas City, not make their lives more difficult.”

“You talk funny,” the handcuffed man slurred, laughing at their accents.

And he smelled funny. Dreadful, actually, as Ivan crinkled his nose up against the odors of urine, body odor and smoke filling the confined space. At least, he hoped it was the criminal and not the female officer escorting him who reeked of the streets. Ivan had been trained to keep such negative observations to himself and be a polite gentleman at all times. “English is not my first language.”

“Your English is better than mine, pal.”

“Dougie. Sorry about that, sir.” The woman jerked on the handcuffs, warning her prisoner to be quiet again. Apparently, standing still and keeping his mouth shut was an ongoing battle for the twitchy bum. “I am already in a mood. Don’t push it.”

Even though the woman wasn’t terribly chatty, Ivan noted that she was extremely observant. She marked their number and position on the elevator as it began its ascent. She sized up the flak vest and guns Filip and Danya wore beneath their suit jackets and pulled back the front of her coat to keep her gun within easy reach. Although he wanted to reassure the woman that they meant her no harm, backing up that claim would mean that he’d have to identify himself and his entourage. And Ivan wasn’t ready to reveal anything when he had this much of an audience surrounding him.

His training in the Lukin military had made him observant, too. The woman had an ordinary face. She was of average height and indeterminate shape, thanks to the bulky coat she wore. In addition to a stylist, she needed a comb and a shower and a much more cooperative prisoner. Ivan curled his fingers into his palms, fighting back the urge to push Filip and Danya aside and assist her with the recalcitrant man who muttered and fidgeted instead of obeying her authority. Maybe a good twenty years older and hundred pounds heavier than her, the man seemed familiar with handcuffs and causing trouble. No wonder she’d been anxious to get him into a jail cell or interview room and off her hands.

He also noticed she had green eyes.

And lips. Ivan averted his gaze as if he’d uttered that ridiculous observation out loud. Of course, she had lips. But they had drawn his attention to the middle of her flushed face. Despite her determined lack of femininity, her lips were pink and asymmetrical, sleekly defined on top and decadently full on the bottom. She had a mouth that reminded him just how delightful it was to kiss a willing woman, and just how long he’d denied himself that pleasure.

“Y’all ain’t cops, are ya?” Her prisoner twisted around again, ignoring her order to face the wall. “With your fancy suits and fancy accents. Damn foreigners.”

“Douglas Freeland,” she warned. “You be nice to these people.”

“I ain’t been nothin’ but nice this morning. I got a sickness and you know it. You set me up.” He called her a crude name that fisted Ivan’s hands with the need to shut him up and make him apologize. He was embarrassed to see his bodyguards ignoring the verbal abuse and staring fixedly at the elevator doors as they slowed to a stop. “I ain’t goin’ back in.”

The moment the doors slid open, the prisoner twisted out of her grasp. In the next second, he spun around and butted his fat, bald head against her more delicate skull.

The urge to intervene jolted through Ivan’s legs as she tumbled to the floor. But Filip and Danya pushed him against the railing, blocking him from the scuffle. “Protect the prince!”

Not that the officer apparently needed his or anyone’s help. Before the man got both feet off the elevator, her legs shot out and she tripped him. Then she was on top of the guy with a feral yell as she smushed her attacker’s face to the floor. Several other officers from the third floor had rushed to help, but they stopped in their tracks, backing up a step as she hauled the prisoner to his feet. The big man wasn’t muttering anymore. She pushed him against the seam between the wall and the elevator, using him to prop the door open while she checked his cuffs and evened out her breathing.

Filip took Ivan by the arm to lead him off the elevator. But Ivan didn’t need to be sandwiched between his bodyguards. The woman, despite the blow to the head, seemed to have the situation under control.

Still, he knew the toll hand-to-hand combat like that could take on a person. There would be bruises, and her head would be throbbing. He shrugged free of Filip’s grip. “Are you all right, miss?”

“Officer. Officer Valentine.” Her green eyes widened with a message that could be understood in any language. Get off the damn elevator already and let me do my job.

“Very well. Gentlemen.” They all exited the elevator and headed to the sergeant’s desk for directions to the captain’s office.

With a nod to the officers who’d come to her aid, Officer Valentine pushed a long tendril of caramel-colored hair off her face and walked her prisoner through the maze of desks on the main floor. Her dialogue trailed off as they went their separate ways. “That was your big plan? Escape onto a floor filled with cops? Now I get to add a second assault charge...”

Relief that Officer Valentine was all right, as well as admiration at how she’d handled the situation herself, eased the tension inside him. Ivan wondered at the rush of adrenaline he felt ebbing from his system and chalked it up to jet lag finally catching up with him.

* * *

“THIS IS EVERYTHING on my schedule while I am here in Kansas City.” Ivan forwarded the text from his chief of staff, Galina Honchar, to Captain Hendricks’s phone. In turn, Joe Hendricks, the captain of the Fourth Precinct, copied the list of events and locations to his administrative assistant in the adjoining office and asked her to make a printout. “Occasionally, a meeting runs long or something unexpected comes up...”

“Last-minute changes could be handled by the liaison officer you’re asking for,” the captain finished. “She’ll be able to keep me in loop, so I can have whatever assistance is needed on standby.”

That was part of his plan, Ivan conceded. “That would be a benefit to your department.” But he was asking for something more than a communications liaison with the local police.

After sending Filip and Danya off to their respective meetings, the only person from Lukinburg here with Ivan on the third floor was Aleksandr Petrovic. Last he’d seen, Aleks was cooling his heels in Captain Hendricks’s outer office, chatting up the captain’s administrative assistant. Even though the woman wore a wedding ring and was obviously pregnant, flirting and having a good time seemed to be hardwired into Aleks’s DNA. He had survived the mines and poverty of Moravska, relying on hard work and sheer determination to leave his past behind him. His friend had been a city kid, raised in a modest neighborhood in St. Feodor, and had used that innate charm to impress the right people and negotiate one successful business deal after another. To look at them now, with their tailored suits and limousines, Ivan and Aleks seemed to be cut from the same cloth, but their personalities and backgrounds couldn’t be more different. Still, Aleks was the one confidant the prince had trusted with the real goal of this meeting, and, if he wasn’t too distracted by the woman out there, was keeping an eye out for when Milevski and the rest of the security team returned.

Ivan was learning that secrecy was practically impossible for royalty. But that secrecy was necessary. The crumpled note sitting like a fishing weight in his pocket warned him that keeping his secrets was a matter of life-and-death. “I told my security chief that I have reconnected with an old flame in the US from my military days, when we did joint operations with other countries. That is why I am making this request privately. They believe I am being discreet for romance’s sake, not because I suspect a breach among the members of my entourage.”

The black man with the weathered face and receding hairline nodded. “I can help you with your request to place an undercover operative inside your delegation for the duration of your visit. I’ve lined up a couple of candidates of the appropriate age for you to meet.”

Ivan reminded him why he sought him out for assistance. “Finding a woman who served in the military is the only plausible way I could think of for me to have met an American and have had the time to develop a relationship with her. I worked with several American soldiers when I was in the military police.”

“I haven’t told them why they’ve been summoned to my office yet. I have to admit, this feels a bit like I’m playing matchmaker.”

“I assure you, that is not the case, Captain.” A tinge of awkwardness heated his skin. “I do not like that I have been forced into this situation. But I must choose a woman today, before I leave this building. My people must get used to seeing her with me. Masquerading as my...paramour...is the only way I can guarantee that we will have time alone to discuss who wants to kill me and devise strategy to unmask the traitor or traitors before they do me or anyone else harm. If I simply take on an American bodyguard, my security team will expect to be working together with that person. Since I do not know who I can trust, I require an ally who reports only to me, one who can convincingly play the role of consort to a prince, and whose qualities meet the needs of this very delicate investigation. I do not care what she looks like or if she fits some profile I would put on a dating site. She only needs to be good at her job.”

“That’s what I needed to hear.” Hendricks pressed a sturdy index finger into the blotter on his desk, the gesture making Ivan think that warning finger would be pressed against his chest—royalty or not—if he dared to misuse one of Hendricks’s officers. “If I hear that anything freaky happens to my officer while she’s working with you, I promise I will bring the full force of this department down on your head.”

“Understood. A good officer protects his troops. I respect that. And I will respect her.”

Hendricks nodded. “Then let’s do this, Your Highness.”

Ignoring the urge to rub at the tension cording the back of his neck, Ivan nodded his appreciation. He was still getting used to answering to prince and Your Highness, although the proud posture and cautious, controlled movements that had been drilled into him during his stint in the military and on a UN coalition team in Bosnia served him well in conveying the air of authority he needed to project. The suit and tie he wore were better fitted and more expensive than the clothes he’d worn when he’d been a happy, anonymous commoner. He’d put on the hand-me-downs he’d worn growing up in the poor mountain village where his aunt and uncle had raised him if it meant he could go back to being an ordinary guy without the death threats and suspicions about the people closest to him churning inside his brain. He’d trade his penthouse suite for his old studio apartment in Moravska if it meant he’d no longer have the future of an entire country resting on his shoulders.

But those shoulders were broad and strong from the years he’d worked in the mines. The military had disciplined him, and a technology degree had given him a better life. He would do whatever was necessary to save the fledgling monarchy and put the discontents who would bring their country to its knees again out of business forever. Saving his own skin would be an added bonus.

He adjusted the glasses that pinched his nose and looked across the desk into Joe Hendricks’s golden-brown eyes. “You understand my need for secrecy?”

“I do.” The man with the salt-and-pepper hair that receded into twin points atop his coffee-colored skin leaned back in his chair. “The fewer people who know about this charade, the better. Only you, me and the officer you select will know exactly what’s going on. I’ll serve as her undercover handler on this assignment.” He rose from his chair and crossed to a set of blinds and opened them, revealing a bank of windows that overlooked a hallway and a beehive of desks and cubicle walls beyond that where uniformed officers, detectives, administrative staff and even a couple of criminals handcuffed to their chairs—including the lowlife who had attacked Officer Valentine—worked or waited. “If there’s any chance the threat is legit, and one of those people—what did you call them?”

“They call themselves Lukin Loyalists. I call them the remnants of the mafia thugs who used to control our government. Lukin is a nickname we gave the citizens who were part of the underground resistance during World War II. These people are nothing like those brave souls.”

“I thought I heard on the news a while back that the Loyalist situation had been resolved.”

“So we thought.” Ivan inhaled a deep breath and slowly released his frustration with the entire situation. “There are still some philosophical disagreements, but we’ve given them a voice in the new government. The minority whip in our Parliament is a Loyalist. He denounced the assassination attempt in the capital.”

“There could be some fringe members of the party who feel their leadership has sold them out.”

“Seven people died in that blast in St. Feodor, including a friend of mine. Whoever these people are, I take their threats seriously.”

Hendricks agreed. “If one or more of these Loyalists are in Kansas City, planning an assassination attempt, then I want to know about it. I want to prevent any attack if possible and minimalize casualties—including you and my officer.”

He pointed through the blinds to two female officers, one wearing a crisp blue uniform. She was engaged in an animated conversation with Aleks. Ivan grinned. Leave it to his friend to find someone new to practice his charms on. It was hard to remember a time when he’d been that carefree and able to stay squarely in a happy moment to enjoy it to the fullest.

The two of them looked very much alike, both with jet-black hair and blue eyes behind the glasses they each wore. Although Ivan stood half an inch taller, Aleks packed more muscle onto his frame. As the prince, he wore his hair cropped military short and kept his beard trimmed close to the angles of his jawline while his friend took his curly facial hair to a shaggy professor look. They’d done their requisite two-year stint in the army after university, where they’d met and become friends. After that, their paths had diverged—one remaining in the military, and the other going back to graduate school—until they’d come together again in service to the new government. They shared looks, history, pride in their country. And yet, the prince’s world was vastly different from that of Aleksandr Petrovic. The orphan and the prince. The charmer and the disciplined soldier. Ivan’s jaw clenched as his smile faded. Had he sentenced himself to a life of loneliness by answering the call of duty and giving himself over to the needs of his country and its people?

Ivan studied the female officer as she laughed at something Aleks said, and he felt a stab of envy at the normalcy of their interaction. But he reminded himself of the reason why he was here—to find a bodyguard he could trust without question, and an investigator who could help him identify the traitor in his inner circle. Knowing Filip Milevski and the rest of his security detail would be returning in the next fifteen to twenty minutes, Ivan rose, buttoned his jacket and joined Captain Hendricks at the window. He needed to evaluate the officers’ suitability for the assignment before selecting his undercover partner.

The uniformed officer sat in one of the chairs lining the hallway, while Aleks stood beside her holding a paper cup of coffee. She touched her hair and ate up Aleks’s attention. She was light, fun, perhaps not a strong enough presence to portray a convincing royal consort.

Meanwhile, the other woman, probably a detective, judging by her gray slacks and jacket, was plugged into her earbuds, and was scrolling through information on her phone as she paced the hallway outside the office’s glass windows. Her expression remained stern as the uniformed officer caught her attention and tried to share the joke with her. The detective shook her head and continued her pacing. The woman’s gravitas would certainly come through as they made their public appearances. She’d be a beauty if she smiled. But the tight lock of her mouth indicated a rigidity that might make it hard for her to adapt to the spontaneous opportunities for secret conversations he expected to arise as the investigation unfolded. And thus far, not much about being a prince was going according to any organized plan.

Captain Hendricks buried his hands in his pockets. “Either one of those women would make a fine liaison officer between you and KCPD.”

They were both no doubt competent law enforcement officers, although neither type initially appealed to him. Not the way Officer Valentine’s earthy vitality and tempting mouth had switched on his male radar. However, he wasn’t here to meet the love of his life. If the woman could act her part as half of a convincing couple, then so could he. His life and the future of his country might depend on making the right choice here. A lightweight or a hard case. “They both have undercover experience?”

“Yes. Detective Wardyn is a few years past her last UC assignment, but she’s a seasoned investigator. Officer Rangel is fairly new, but she has a higher marksmanship score.”

Brains or brawn? He needed both.

“Then I suppose we should bring them in for a conversation. I don’t want to reveal too much to either of them. The fewer people who know the specific details...”

And then a dusty ponytail and long black coat came into view as Officer Valentine shot up from her chair and circled her desk to point her finger in the face of the fat man who was mouthing off at her.

“Tell me more about her.” Ivan nodded toward the argument that was not ending well for the handcuffed man. The grungy woman slapped a photograph on the desk in front of the man and forced him to look at it.

“Officer Valentine?” The captain chuckled at something Ivan failed to understand. “Looks like she’s brought in a perp for processing.”

Perp. Perpetrator. Ivan quickly translated the American slang and determined that Officer Valentine was a brave woman. The man she’d handcuffed made two of her, even with the heavy coat she wore. And yet she...

Ivan felt the hint of a smile relaxing the tight lines beside his mouth. “What about her? Does she have a military background? Earlier, she used a move on her prisoner that I learned during hand-to-hand combat training. Skills like that might be more useful than marksmanship when it comes to a protection detail.”

“Carly Valentine? You think she can be your princess? Or, you know, personal bodyguard?” Hendricks didn’t seem to be a man who was used to stuttering over his words, and he quickly shook off his surprise at Ivan’s interest in the woman. “Valentine does a lot of UC work for us. She’s a natural on the streets but—”

“Can she look professional when she is not in that costume?” Ivan paused for a moment, wondering if he should trust logic over what his instincts were telling him. “That is a costume, yes?”

“Let’s hope so. You want to meet her?”

“Yes. There is something about her that seems like we could have worked together before. Under different circumstances. It might make our cover story more believable.”

“It’s your call.” The captain crossed to his desk and picked up the phone to call his assistant. “Brooke? I need to see Carly Valentine in my office ASAP. And pull up her personnel file for me, please. Thanks.”

Ivan was still at the window, watching as Carly Valentine answered the phone at her desk. Her shoulders sagged before she glanced back toward the captain’s office. She spoke to the man sitting at the desk across from hers. After he nodded, she unlocked the perp from his chair and handed him off to the other officer, who led the prisoner out of sight down a long hallway.

Officer Valentine brushed off the sleeves of the oversize coat she wore, sending up a puff of gray dust in a cloud around her. The shake of her head told Ivan she was nervous about being summoned to the captain’s office. She tried to tuck the loose waves back into her ponytail but stopped to inspect her hands. Another officer pointed to her face and Ivan could read the curse on her lips at the streak of soot her fingers had left there. She peeled off her fingerless gloves, quickly wiped her hands and face on a wad of tissues, and then steeled her shoulders before crossing to the captain’s outer office. Her coat billowed out around her like the dusters cowboys wore in the American Western movies he loved to watch.

Joe Hendricks stood at his desk, reading information off the computer screen. “I’ve got Valentine’s file here. She did have MP training in the National Guard. Looks like her stint with them ended earlier this year about the same time she earned her associate degree in criminal justice studies. She’s been with the department four years. That’s not as much experience as either of those officers in the hallway.”

Didn’t matter. “What does she do for you?”

“Right now, she’s working an undercover assignment. She’s attached to our human trafficking task force.”

“Human trafficking? As in prostitution? Sex slavery?”

Hendricks nodded. “She’s on the streets, identifying runaways and at-risk individuals.”

Ivan turned back to the window. “And the man she brought in?”

“I’m not sure. But with Valentine, I’m guessing she caught him with his hands on the wrong person. She’s a natural-born protector. Can’t imagine what kind of fierce mama bear she’d make if she ever decides to have kids.”

“Fierce mama bear?” She was in the hallway right outside the office now. Her gaze met and held his through the window. Her eyes were green like the mountain meadows of his homeland—and narrowed with suspicion.

“That’s our Valentine.”

She blinked, breaking the momentary connection between them. Oblivious to Aleks’s curious interest as she walked past him and the other two female officers, she tossed her long ponytail down the center of her back and strode into the assistant’s office.

Grimy. Plain. Fierce. Intriguing. Very good at playing her part.

A woman he just might have something in common with.

Chapter Two

“Hey, Brooke.” Carly Valentine closed the door behind her and crossed the small office over to her friend’s desk. Her pulse thrummed in her ears with more nerves than the adrenaline charge that had raised her heart rate when Dougie Freeland had whacked her in the temple with his big, bulbous head. “Can you give me a clue? What did I do?” She thumbed over her shoulder to the bull pen where the detectives and uniforms worked when they were in the office. “Did those guys in the elevator complain about me or my gruesome twin out there? I swear I didn’t let Dougie touch them.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Brooke Kincaid looked up from her computer and smiled. The gesture was meant to reassure her, but that smile shifted into an apologetic frown, leaving Carly feeling anything but. “I’m still not sure what’s going on, other than I’ve pulled service records and promised that anything I see or hear can’t leave this office. By the way, are you okay?”

“Nothing that an ibuprofen won’t cure. I’ve been hurt worse wrestling with Frank and Jesse.” Although, unlike the man she’d brought in for booking, her older brothers hadn’t meant her any real harm. They’d simply been picking on her for getting in their space or being the annoying little sister who’d done her best to keep them fed and dressed in clean clothes after their mother had died. Carly nodded toward the hallway where she’d passed the other two female officers and the geeky-looking guy who’d been flirting with Emily Rangel. “Does it have something to do with them? Am I getting transferred? A reprimand in my file?”

“I don’t think it’s anything bad.” Brooke stood, resting a hand on her pregnant belly as she circled the desk to get close enough to whisper. “The guy in there with Joe is an honest to gosh prince from a little European country called Lukinburg.”

“Lukinburg?”

“I looked it up. There’s a delegation here from his country negotiating trade agreements. They’re even hosting a ball, a fund-raiser for scientific research, while they’re here in the US.”

“A ball? Like dancing and sparkly gowns? Men in tuxedos?”

“The same.”

“What’s he doing here at the precinct?”

Brooke crinkled up her nose and sat back on the edge of her desk before answering. “Everything’s all hush-hush. The prince called early this morning and asked to see Captain Hendricks as soon as I could fit him into the schedule. You should have seen it when he arrived—he has bodyguards.”

“I met them in the elevator. That explains why they said, ‘Save the prince’ when Dougie went wacko on me.”

“He called me madam and he bowed when he introduced himself—Ivan Mostek. He’s no Atticus...” Brooke smiled, referring to her husband, the detective who oversaw the task force Carly was assigned to. “But he’s hot. He’s not soft underneath that suit and those manners. I think he could take care of himself if he had to.”

Hearing Brooke refer to anyone besides her husband as hot was something new. Bowing and madam-ing certainly didn’t sound like the visitors they usually got around here, either. Carly’s heart rate wasn’t slowing down. “He runs his own country? And he wants to see me?”

She glanced down at her dirty clothes and ruined steel-toed boots that she’d borrowed from her older brother Frank, who ran a construction business. It was already ninety degrees at lunchtime, and she’d been out most of the morning working her contacts. Dougie had taken exception to her interfering with his gross habit of flashing and had peed on her. The fact that there had been so much traffic through the old burned-out Morton & Sons Tile Works warehouse near the Missouri River had been reason enough to follow Freeland inside. But when she found him strutting his wares with a young prostitute she was certain was underage, Carly had broken her cover and placed him under arrest. Tackling him in a pile of charred debris from the fire and rolling in dust and ash that had been there for four years had turned her disguise from homeless to filthy.

She held up her hands, admitting the obvious. “I’m hardly looking my best.”

“Or smelling it.” The phone buzzed on Brooke’s desk and she pushed to her feet. “That’s Joe. He said there’s a time crunch on whatever Prince Ivan needs. You’d better get in there.” Brooke’s nose crinkled up again and she clapped her fingers over her mouth, looking as if she might be sick. “You’re a little ripe.”

Carly instinctively retreated a step. “Sorry about that. Dougie didn’t come quietly when I arrested him.”

“The baby seems to make me really sensitive to smells right now.” She turned her head to the side to inhale a deep breath, then reached out to Carly. “Better let me take your coat, at least.”

Nodding her thanks, Carly quickly shed her brother Jesse’s old duster coat from his cowboy days. That phase had lasted about two months, once he realized that a real working cowboy got a lot dirtier and smelled a lot worse than the ones he’d seen in the movies. Not all that different than what she was smelling like right now. She didn’t have to be pregnant to know how Dougie’s crude attempt to scare her off had left its mark on her.

She plucked the white T-shirt she wore away from skin that was damp with perspiration and tucked it beneath the belt and holster on her jeans with the holes in the knees. Then she adjusted the chain that held her badge around her neck as if it was a piece of jewelry that could dress up her poor girl from the streets look and gave Brooke a hopeful smile. “I don’t look too scary?”

“It’ll have to do.”

Brooke turned her toward the captain’s office just as Joe Hendricks opened the connecting door with an impatient whoosh of air. “Valentine. Good. You’re here.” He shifted his attention to Brooke while Carly sidled past him into his office. “We’re not to be disturbed. Not even if his men call.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door closed behind her and Carly stopped in her tracks as the man with coal-black hair that she’d seen through the windows rose to greet her. The tailoring of his suit emphasized the width of his shoulders and tapered waist, making him appear taller, though she guessed he was about six feet in height. He practically clicked his heels together and offered her a curt nod. Bowing. Wow. Had any man ever been so formal about meeting her before? “Officer Valentine. I am pleased to meet you.”

“Hey.” Was she supposed to say something more? Shake his hand? No. Not in the shape she was currently in. “Nice to meet you.”

The captain gestured to one of the two guest chairs while he circled around to his side of the desk. “Take a seat, Valentine.”

With a nod, Carly tore her gaze from their guest and perched on the edge of her chair. Partly because it helped her sit up straight and gave her a stronger posture, and partly because she was painfully self-conscious about her soiled clothes leaving a stain on the beige fabric. “Will this take long, sir? I promised Gina Cutler that I’d cover her citizen self-defense training class after work, so she and Mike can go to birthing class.” It seemed that several of her friends were well beyond her in the get-married-and-start-a-family department. “I’d like to grab a shower before then. I think the class would like me to, as well.”

Her attempt at humor fell on deaf ears. “This will take as long as it needs to.” The captain loosened the tie that cinched his collar and gestured to the man seated beside her. “I’d like to introduce you to His Royal Highness, Prince Ivan Mostek of Lukinburg.”

Carly pushed to her feet. “Wait. Should I have curtsied?” She skimmed her hands over the hips of her frayed jeans and frowned at the stains on her boots. “I’m so sorry. I would have changed into my uniform if I’d known I was meeting a dignitary. I just came in off an undercover assignment. I had to blend in with the homeless community in No-Man’s Land. I...” She threw her hands up, helpless to deny the truth. “I’m dirty and I stink.”

The prince stood when she had risen from her chair. With a perfectly straight face, he said, “All I smell is the smoke from a fire. I trust you were not hurt.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” A nervous laugh snorted through her nose, and embarrassment warmed her face. “Of course, you’re a gentleman. You’re a prince. I’ll be okay. I mean, my pride is shot to...” Carly bit down on that word and the heat in her skin intensified. She was pretty sure that one didn’t curse in front of royalty. “I’ll have a few bruises, but nothing serious. Thanks for asking.” She turned to the captain, silently begging for backup. “Sir, tell me to shut up.”

Now the captain chuckled. Great. Way to impress the boss and visiting royalty.

“At ease, Valentine,” Hendricks ordered. As he had before, the prince waited for her to sit before he took his seat. She didn’t deserve that kind of chivalry with the impression she was making, but his patience with her had a surprisingly calming effect on her nerves, enabling her to concentrate more on what the captain was saying rather than the humiliation she was feeling. “Lukinburg’s capital city, St. Feodor, is the sister city of Kansas City. Prince Ivan and his delegation are here for a week to negotiate trade agreements, do a cultural exchange with the Nelson-Atkins Art Museum, meet with local and state officials, host a charity ball at their embassy—you get the idea.”

“Uh-huh. What does that have to do with me?”

“The prince has a proposition for you.”

Carly turned her attention to the man beside her. Good grief, his eyes were as blue as she’d imagined when she glimpsed them through the office window a few minutes earlier. The lenses in his glasses didn’t dim their intensity one bit. Whatever this guy had in mind, it wouldn’t be the worst offer she’d ever gotten from a man. Brooke was right, Ivan Mostek was attractive in a polished, faintly arrogant sort of way. In fact, if she met him in a bar, she’d be...lusting after him from afar because she had no clue how to come on to a guy, especially one who looked like he’d stepped out of the self-made CEO section of Forbes magazine and was way out of her league. But she’d definitely enjoy her beer and appreciate the scenery from a distance. Still, she knew Captain Hendricks wasn’t setting her up on a date. She broke the connection with those penetrating blue eyes and looked to her captain. “What sort of proposition?”

“Captain, if I may?” The prince leaned onto the arm of his chair, close enough to catch a whiff of a scent that was much more pleasant than her own. Something clean, all business, masculine. “Due to instability in my country, as we transfer from a corrupt dictatorship to a democratic society, I am required to step up security. Not every Lukinburger is eager to support the new government.”

Ivan articulated every word and avoided contractions. He’d practiced that delivery, so his English would be clearly understood. His tone was less guttural than German, more articulate than Russian, deep in pitch and seductive like fancy poetry. She wondered what that voice sounded like in his native language, whatever language a Lukinburger spoke. Lukinburger? The urge to laugh tickled her thoughts. That made her think of a hamburger. And this guy was nothing but prime steak.

“You find something amusing, Miss Valentine?”

That tone was a little less mesmerizing and a little more His Imperial Majesty, and she shook off the inappropriate detour of her thoughts. “Uh, no. No, sir. But I saw your geeky science guy and bodyguards on the elevator. That’s not security enough?”

“Geeky science guy?” He repeated the phrase, a question in his eyes. Right. Language barrier.

“You know, nerdy? Thick glasses? Needs a haircut? I bet if he trimmed that mountain man beard and got the bangs out of his eyes, he’d clean up as good as you.”

“I assure you he has showered.”

He hadn’t understood the slang she’d used. “Clean up as in he’d be attractive if he, you know, took care of himself a little more. Like you.” The blue eyes narrowed. Great. She’d just admitted she thought the prince was attractive. Or had she just insulted his friend? “No offense. Clearly, the guy’s a charmer. Making a woman laugh is a good thing.” Heat crept into her cheeks again. “I’m rambling again. I’m a little self-conscious right now. I don’t know the etiquette...am I allowed to have a regular conversation with you?”

“No matter the etiquette, it has not stopped you yet.”

Her blush intensified. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize. You are very observant, Officer Valentine. A good soldier should be. I understand that you served in the military before joining the police force?”

“That’s right. Army National Guard. That’s how I paid my way through school.”

“I, too, served in the army of my country. I admire that sense of duty.” His compliment altered the heat she felt into a bud of self-confidence. As he went on, steering the conversation toward work further distracted her from her embarrassment. “The man in the hallway is my friend, Aleksandr Petrovic. He is a trusted adviser to me. He has, as you Americans say, a nose for business.”

“You mean a head for business? It’s a nose for news, a head for business,” she pointed out. When his eyes narrowed, she pressed her fingers against her lips and apologized, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t interrupt.”

“No. I must use your language correctly.” His fingers spanned her wrist, pulling her hand away from her mouth. The light touch sent tendrils of warmth skittering beneath her skin before he released her. She was just as sensitive to the calluses on his manicured fingers, and surprising strength of his hand that she’d associate more with a working man like her father and brothers than a fairy-tale prince. But the charm was certainly there as he bowed his head to her again. “Thank you for the correction.”

“You’re welcome. You were saying?” Man, was she blowing it in the public relations department. “Your Highness?”

“Ivan will do fine when we are in private like this.”

She was supposed to call a prince by his first name? In what universe? Had she taken a harder hit to the head from Dougie than she realized?

“Just as with our embassies in Washington and now Kansas City, we are coordinating with the Department of State and local law enforcement to ensure that our visit here is a safe one—both for ourselves and for your people. Your captain is indulging a personal request while my chief of royal security and his team are meeting with others in your department.”

“That makes sense.” Carly turned to Captain Hendricks again. “Are you looking for volunteers to work extra duty shifts?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what? Why the private meeting?”

Prince Ivan touched the arm of her chair to recapture her attention. “I need a personal bodyguard. An American who can assist with my understanding of local idioms, someone who knows the city and can provide security specifically for me while I am here.”

“You mean a liaison officer between your men and KCPD?”

The men exchanged a look. This time she bit down on the urge to keep talking and waited for one of them to explain why she was here.

Captain Hendricks steepled his fingers together on top of his desk. “The prince believes there is someone inside his delegation who is feeding intel to the dissidents who tried to kill him in Lukinburg. He doesn’t know who it is. He’s not sure who he can trust.”

Carly nodded as understanding dawned. “You’re looking for an outsider. Someone who isn’t a part of your inner circle.” The captain and the prince were looking for a cop who could convincingly portray a member of his security team. Maybe a reporter covering his visit. Or even waitstaff or a maid at their hotel. “You want me to sniff around, see if I can find out anything. I can probably get in and out of your functions without drawing any attention to myself. I’m pretty good at blending in.”

“You misunderstand. I want you to be my escort at those functions.”

Carly realized her jaw was hanging open, and quickly snapped it shut. “What?”

“His girlfriend,” the captain clarified. “He’s looking for a female police officer who can be his date at public events. The cover story is that he has an old friend who works at KCPD, someone he met during a military training exercise, and a romance blossomed. His trip to the States has reunited you. She’ll provide a level of security no one will question. Someone who can be seen with him, or even stay the night in his hotel room without anyone questioning why you’re there.”

“Undercover girlfriend? Stay the night?” She snorted a laugh when she heard what the captain was proposing. Then she saw the look in his dark eyes and stopped abruptly. “You’re serious? No. No, sir. Do you see what I’m wearing? Do you see how I look?” She pointed to the bull pen. “I’m in the middle of another case. Emily or Detective Wardyn or any other number of female officers would be a better candidate for that kind of assignment than I would.”

“Valentine—there were two attempts on the prince’s life in Lukinburg.”

“The last one was three months ago,” the prince added. “I have fresh scars from that explosion. Seven people, including a member of the Royal Guard and the bomber himself were killed that day. I felt that coming to Kansas City would ensure the safety of my delegation, and of your people. By distancing myself from the threat.”

Scars? Seven dead? Her panic ebbed at the sobering news. “They tried to kill you?”

“Twice. The bullet missed. The bomb did not.”

“And the threat followed you here to the US.”

“I believe so.” He pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to her.

“You dusted this for prints?”

“There are none,” Ivan answered. “At least, not according to my chief of security, Filip Milevski.”

“One of the guys you’re not sure you can trust?”

“It appeared in my attaché case on the plane during the flight. I do not recall seeing it there when I left St. Feodor.”

With a nod from both the prince and Captain Hendricks, Carly unfolded the typewritten note.

Prince Ivan. The false prince.

We won’t let you sell our country to the Americans.

We will stop you. Dead.

Lukin Loyalists will rule.

Carly let out a low whistle. “Does Homeland Security know about this? The terrorists may be yours, but they’re on our soil.” She folded the note and handed it back to the prince. “No offense, pal, but you need to go home.”

“Valentine—” the captain chided.

The prince waved off his defense and leaned toward her again. “It is all right, Joe. I appreciate her frankness. Miss Valentine—I cannot tell you for certain that the threats are politically motivated. Perhaps they come from criminals seeking revenge for what the new government has taken from them. It could even be something personal I do not yet understand.”

“Personal?”

“Perhaps. This is why I need your help. Whoever is behind this will try again. I want to stop him before any of your people get hurt.”

“Prevent collateral damage.”

“These trade negotiations must happen to ensure the economic success of my country. I need a strong Kansas City police officer, one who knows undercover work. I need a woman to fulfill this role, one who can handle herself as I saw you handle that criminal out there. I need someone I can trust, who is not influenced by the crown, someone who is there to watch me and help me. Lukinburg’s security contingent are trained Special Forces soldiers. If one of them is against me...” He sat back, lifting his shoulders in a weary sigh. “I would like to have an ally in my corner. I would like it to be you.”

She paused a moment to consider what these men were asking of her. “I won’t fit in with royalty. I’m working class right down to my dad’s plumber’s truck. I don’t even own a dress.”

“We’ll get you the right clothes, the right hairstyle, to play the role we need you to. You’d be working straight through the week he’s here in Missouri. We’ll comp you the time, give you a vacation once the assignment is done.”

Prince Ivan nodded. “I will pay for all of these expenses. You will keep anything I purchase for you as a thank-you gift.”

“Dressing me up won’t make me a lady.”

Hendricks rolled his chair back, looking as if this meeting was over and the decision had been made. “You’d be protecting Kansas City by preventing anything from happening to him. You can do this.”

“Are you ordering me to?”

“Do I need to make it an order?”

“No, sir. I took an oath to serve and protect my city. That includes its visitors.” She stood when the captain did. She was okay with the cop part, investigating and protecting, and with keeping a secret. But the rest of this assignment? She only hoped these men understood what kind of magic it would take to turn her into a woman who would date a prince. “When do I start?”

His Royal Blue Eyes rose and buttoned his jacket. “I need you to start the job now. Right here. Before my people return to the captain’s office. I worked as military police when I was in the army, so it is plausible that we are acquainted.”

“How long ago did we allegedly meet?” She’d better start prepping for this part if she was to have any chance of pulling it off.

“Two? Three years ago?”

Carly nodded. “I was deployed to Bosnia two years ago. Guarded the base near Tuzla.”

“I took part in a training exercise in Sarajevo.”

She recognized the city southwest of the base where she’d been stationed. “Then it’s believable that we could have met. If the dates coincide.”

Captain Hendricks circled his desk. “I’ll prep your cover file to make sure they do, in case anyone runs a background check.”

Carly inhaled a deep breath. “Then I guess we’re doing this.”

The prince crossed to the door leading into Brooke’s office. “My first public appearance is tomorrow. I am in meetings throughout the day, but I will have lunch with you to go over the information I have on these threats in more detail, and to discuss the protocols my countrymen would expect from a woman I am with. That will give you until tomorrow morning to get whatever you need to look the part. Aleks will set up an account you may use to buy anything you need.”

At least she didn’t snort this time when she laughed. “I’m gonna need more than a day to make that kind of transformation.”

“Make it work, Valentine.” Captain Hendricks was done with any more excuses. “You’ll be reporting directly to me.”

“I hope you don’t live to regret this, sir.”

“I hope I don’t, either.”

When she opened the door, Brooke was pouring coffee for the armed men from the elevator. A glimpse of a wire curling beneath their collars reminded her that this was Ivan’s security contingent.

“Your Highness.” The man with slicked-back dark hair striped by silver sideburns stepped forward. “Coordination with the local police, providing traffic clearance and venue security is in place. They have your schedule and have assured me they have the manpower to provide the backup my team and embassy security will need. I will coordinate the joint agency security team, of course.”

“Of course.” Ivan laced his fingers through hers, and Carly startled at the unexpected touch. He pulled her up beside him, ashes, grime, stink and all. He hadn’t been kidding. The charade was starting right now. “I want to introduce you to my good friend. Miss Carly Valentine. My valued chief of security, Filip Milevski.”

Um, uh... Think, Carly! Not homeless, not hooker, not task force cop. Girlfriend. She summoned a smile. “Hi.”

Brilliant. Convincing. Not.

The security chief’s dark eyes bored through her with a different sort of intensity than the electricity that charged Ivan’s blue eyes. Yep. That was less of a nice to meet you and more of a what the hell? expression on his clean-shaven face. “This is the woman from the elevator. Why did you not acknowledge her at that time if she is your friend?”

“She was working,” Ivan explained, spewing out lies as if they were second nature to him. “Besides, it has been so long since I last saw her—her hair is much longer now and we are both older—I was not sure it was her.”

Carly could play the lying game, too. “And I wasn’t—I’m not—exactly looking my best. I was a little embarrassed for him to see me like this.”

“Nonsense, дорогой. You know I love to see a woman in action.” What did he say? Huh? Was she going to have to learn a new language for this assignment? Learning to be a proper lady would be hard enough.

Filip Milevski didn’t bother to mask his disapproval of her—although whether it was the idea of his boss having a girlfriend or her, in particular, he disliked—and he acknowledged her with a nod and dismissed her at the same time. “I contacted Eduard. Our car is waiting for us out front to take us to the embassy to meet Ambassador Poveda. The rest of the delegation has gone on to the hotel. Galina is discussing protocol with the hotel staff. She will meet us at the embassy.”

Ivan’s grip tightened around hers, and she got the idea that Milevski’s reaction hadn’t pleased him. “I will finish introductions first, as you will be seeing more of Miss Valentine throughout the week.” He gestured to the sour-faced man with the reddish-brown buzz cut and blotchy skin. “Danya Pavluk. He has worked palace security for years. The Eduard whom Filip mentioned is Eduard Nagy, another bodyguard, specifically, my driver. You will meet him later.”

“I look forward to it.”

Danya Pavluk looked like making polite conversation pained him. All he said was, “Madam.”

“How do you do?”

Danya drank his coffee. Apparently, that conversation was over.

Ivan squeezed her hand again, and she was reminded of the strength and heat of even that casual, deceptively possessive touch. He called to his friend in the hallway. “Aleks, are you ready to leave?”

The nerdy numbers guy said his goodbye to Officer Rangel and came to the doorway. Without waiting for an introduction, he crossed the room to take Carly’s free hand. He kissed her knuckles before stepping back and straightening his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I am Aleksandr Petrovic. It is my pleasure to meet you.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the way his natural geekiness softened his effusive charm. “Carly Valentine.” He looked like a shaggier, softer version of Ivan. His nose was straighter, his shoulders slightly less imposing. And so far, he seemed to be the friendliest Lukinburger she’d met. “The pleasure is mine.”

So these were some of the suspects Ivan thought might betray him to the Lukin Loyalists who wanted to kill him. She’d need to run background checks and spend some time observing and conversing with all the delegation members to get a better read on who was trustworthy and who hated the prince enough to send a death threat.

She made a mental note to make sure she carried a gun or Taser with her at all times. The security men were armed. Pavluk was built like a tank, and though Milevski was older and had more paunch, she suspected he would be equally hard to take down if she had to protect the prince from one of them. And geek didn’t necessarily mean defenseless, so she couldn’t count Aleks out as a threat, either.

But investigating would have to wait. Sizing up her odds in a physical altercation slipped to the back of her mind, too, when Ivan moved to stand in front of her. With his back to the others, his blue eyes locked on to hers, sending a silent message of gratitude for her alone. Or no, that was a warning. Warning her about what?

Her eyes widened as he dipped his face toward hers and kissed her. Not some fake air-kiss or polite European cheek-to-cheek greeting, either. His firm mouth pressed against the seam of her lips, warmed the spot with moist heat, lingered. His beard and mustache tickled, and she was curious enough about the texture of the dark spiky silk teasing the skin around her mouth that she lifted her free hand to stroke her fingertips across his jaw. The lines of his face were strong, unyielding. She discovered the firm ridge of a scar hidden near his ear when she stroked against the grain of his beard. From his time in the army? A previous attempt on his life?

A blush of feminine interest in his controlled, masculine touch heated her skin as much as self-conscious embarrassment had warmed it earlier. Every instinct inside her wanted to push her mouth more fully against his. She wanted to part her lips and feel that ticklish heat on the tender skin inside. The kiss was easily the most potent she’d ever received, certainly the most unexpected. Ivan’s touch was mesmerizing, magical... Fake, Valentine! The kiss is fake.

A pair of invisible fingers snapped beside her ear, waking her from the momentary spell she’d been under. She quickly curled her inquisitive fingers into the palm of her hand and stepped back. She needed a shower and some nice clothes and a seriously intense lesson in royal etiquette before anyone would believe the prince’s interest in her was real.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised.

“Right. Oh.” Before he turned, she pulled a card from the wallet behind her badge and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “That has all my numbers on it. If you need to call.”

He laid his hand over his heart as if she’d given him a treasure. He looked to Brooke, who stood with one hand curved around her belly, the other clutching the back of her chair, as if she was too shocked by what she’d just seen to stand on her own. Ivan bowed his head. “Mrs. Kincaid. Thank you for your hospitality—and your discretion.”

Brooke cleared her throat before she spoke. “Of course, sir. My pleasure.”

“Captain Hendricks,” he acknowledged. Then Ivan bowed to Carly. “I look forward to our next meeting, дорогой.”

There it was again. The foreign word rhymed with the frog boy. Only it sounded secretive, sensual, anything but insulting, in his deep, accented voice. She wished she had anything half as clever to say. “Me, too.”

Ivan and his entourage left, closing the door behind them and heading past a dozen curious glances from the main room to the elevators before Carly released the breath she’d been holding and turned to Brooke. “Dorogoy. What’s that?”

Brooke typed the word into her computer and pulled up a translation program. “Darling. Sweetheart. It’s an endearment.”

An endearment. She should have guessed as much simply from the tone of his voice. Oh, he was good at this. Carly seriously needed to step up her game if they had any chance of making this undercover mission work. She also had to remember that the charm and kisses would be fake. She was no fairy-tale princess, and he wasn’t really her prince. But he was just shy enough of handsome to make him really interesting to look at. He treated her like a lady, even when she reeked of the streets. And he needed her. It was a potent combination guaranteed to turn her head.

Right then and there she sent her heart a warning that she couldn’t have real feelings for Prince Ivan Mostek of Lukinburg. This was a job.

Joe Hendricks’s gruff voice sent the same message. “Valentine, you’re done for the day. Process your perp and get out of here. Brooke? We need to arrange a leave of absence for Carly. Dismiss Rangel and Wardyn and meet me in my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back into his office and Brooke grabbed a notepad and pen from her desk. She handed Carly her coat and stood there, searching for the right thing to say. “You’re going to explain this to me?”

Of course, she was. Just as soon as she figured out what to say. “Ivan and I go way back. To my army days. I didn’t put it all together when you said Lukinburg earlier. I had no idea he was in town. In the country, even.” Rambling was never a convincing way to establish a solid cover story. She was supposed to be a better liar than this. “Meeting him...again...was definitely a surprise.”

Brooke nodded, still looking confused. “For all of us.”

She hated lying to her friend. Not that she didn’t trust Brooke completely. But orders were orders. The truth couldn’t leave Hendricks’s office. Still, she needed a friend who had some relationship experience right about now. “Do you have a place you go to get manis and pedis?”

“Sure. I can get you the number.”

“And where exactly does one purchase a ball gown?”

Brooke frowned as if she’d spoken gibberish. “Why?”

“Apparently, for the next week... I’m dating a prince.”

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