by Julie Miller
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 s
ister 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?”
