Personal Protection

“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.”