by Julie Miller
“Even if she was in uniform, it would be an improvement.” They’d known each other for too long for Aleks to be truly intimidated by him. He slowly rose to his feet to face him. “Put body armor on her and she could be one of the Lukin rebels. Please, if you must have this affair...” He put up his hands when Ivan started to protest. “I remember a prince’s speech saying that we must earn the respect of the world again to save our people. I am only telling you this because I know you want the best for our country. I know you have been lonely since taking on the responsibilities you have, that you have not had time to pursue any kind of personal life. But fraternizing with Miss Valentine in public is not the image that will earn that respect.”
Only his best friend could talk to him like this—could insult Carly like that—and not find himself flat on the floor. “You want me to dress her up in public and keep my feelings for her private?”
“Yes. If you must have her with you.”
“I must.” Ivan’s hand went to the tension at the back of his neck, which Carly’s grasping fingers had temporarily dispelled. “Aleks, she reminds me of where I came from. Where we came from and what we have overcome. She reminds me of the strength that lies within me, which I will need to complete this job. I need her. Plus, I will not abandon her when she is dealing with this attack on her family.”
“That attack was meant for you.”
“That mistake does not lessen the impact of nearly losing her brother.”
“So, this is guilt?”
“This is the way I say it will be.” Ivan buttoned his collar and straightened his tie, putting on his princely facade once more. “Now, we have bigger concerns than my love life.” He headed out of the room, waiting for Aleks to fall into step beside him. “Tell Filip to bring the car around. Have Galina prepare a short statement to release to the press regarding this unfortunate incident. And Aleks? Find me a laptop.”
He’d made a promise to Carly. There was work to be done.
Chapter Six
“Brooke? Help me.”
Carly got the zipper of the sleeveless polka-dot dress partway down. But no matter how she twisted and stretched, there was no way to reach the little tab to pull it down the rest of the way unless she dislocated her shoulder to do it.
Yesterday’s luncheon and shopping on her own had been an absolute disaster. Carly had picked out a little black dress that apparently wasn’t the universally chichi thing the magazine she’d read through had indicated. Her father had asked what funeral she was going to. Galina Honchar had tsk-tsked at her before ushering her to her seat. Ivan had been a compelling speaker, and if she was a farmer, she’d certainly be willing to talk more about selling her beef and soybeans to Lukinburg. But during the mingling with the guests afterward, someone had mistaken her for one of the servers and asked her for a refill of coffee.
About the only thing useful that had happened was the chance to stand back from the group and observe Ivan’s staff. Aleks was a natural-born salesman, probably Ivan’s greatest asset when it came to discussing facts and figures, as well as entertaining guests around the conference room. Galina carried her computer tablet with her everywhere, and seemed to either be whispering into Ivan’s ear, making introductions, or steering someone away from Ivan if their conversation ran on too long. Danya stood inside one set of conference room doors, avoiding all conversation, keeping his eyes on Ivan as he moved about the room. Eduard stood at the other set of doors and acknowledged her with a friendly salute. Although his earpiece and concealed gun indicated he was security, he interacted with guests who came and went, even laughing with some of them. Filip moved through the crowd with Ivan, never two or three feet away from the prince.
Ivan had been kind enough to pull her to his side and introduce her to the Lukin ambassador and the president of the American agri-business group. Both men made her feel welcome enough, but she’d been more interested in why Filip had put more distance between himself and Ivan when she was at his side, and who he was talking to on his cell phone when he did slip away. And what had Galina and Eduard been arguing about before she sent the young bodyguard out of the room to do her bidding.
Afterward, Carly had been dropped off with no time for debriefing or goodbyes beyond a quick kiss. And though he said that he’d rather spend the rest of the day with her watching a ball game and eating the barbecue he’d missed out on the night before, Galina had tapped him on his shoulder and reminded him that they needed to get to the TV station to tape an interview for the evening news. Ivan had brushed his finger across Carly’s cheek, whispered something in Lukin that sounded like a promise and climbed inside his limo to drive away with the rest of his delegation.
She was beginning to understand time alone, time away from being the prince and representing his country was a rare, precious thing for him. Carly vowed then and there to make the most of the time they’d have alone—to go over answers together and give him a break from the heavy responsibilities he carried on those broad shoulders.
But so far, today hadn’t been much of a success. She hadn’t been able to find more than basic public info about the suspects who might be threatening Ivan, and she was stuck in this stupid dress.
Carly flexed all ten fingers out straight, eyeing the strange spots of pale pink polish where her plain, stubby nails used to be. Then she took a deep breath and contorted herself in the dressing room’s three-way mirror in an effort to reach the back of the dress. “My toes and fingernails feel claustrophobic. Can nail polish numb them?”
“Really?” Her friend’s pregnant belly appeared in the mirror a split second before her gentle smile did. “You’re a tomboy, not a shut-in. You said you enjoyed the foot scrub. They’re beautiful. Tastefully done without looking flashy.” Brooke reached in and unzipped the back of the dress. “You’re just not used to seeing yourself all spiffed up.”
“How do you girlie-girls put up with this stuff? I wouldn’t have been able to use my hands at all if the manicurist had put those tips on the way she wanted to. I don’t remember the last time I wore pink.” Carly pushed the dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor before stepping out of it. “I’d say this one’s a no. If I can’t even undress myself...”
“You can’t wear the navy pantsuit all week.” She held out her hand for Carly to pick up the dress and returned it to its hanger. “Ms. Honchar’s note said you’d specifically need a dress for the university reception tomorrow. I think we’ve determined that black is not your color. It’s either this or that cream floral with the short sleeves.”
“I think Ms. Honchar would prefer that I dress in something that makes me invisible.” She eyed the floral dress. “You’re sure it’s proper for a university reception?”
“It’s flattering and has a little color without being over the top. Besides, you can get in and out of it all by yourself. That’s a plus.”
“Ha ha,” Carly deadpanned. She eyed the open boxes of shoes on the dressing room floor. “What do I wear with it? The sandals?”
“I’d go with the beige heels with the bows on them.”
“The ones that pinch my toes?”
Brooke laughed. “You’ve survived on the streets working undercover in No-Man’s Land. You can survive dressing up and going to a party.”
With a mock groan, Carly reached for her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for doing this. I wasn’t sure who to call for this wannabe princess makeover.”
“I’m a regular fairy godmother.” A bit on the shy side of things, Brooke Kincaid was quite possibly the kindest soul Carly had ever met. She didn’t know if their friendship stemmed from their opposite personalities drawing them together, or from being the two awkward outcasts at the Fourth Precinct offices who’d found themselves on the sidelines at more than one social event. Brooke hung the dress behind the vintage-looking floral with the easy-to-reach buttons. “I think you should get
this one. After this week, you could wear it to church or out on a date.”
Carly snorted. “I’ve never worn anything but jeans on a date.”
“When was the last time you went out with a man? And I don’t mean out with the guys to a bar after your shift.” Brooke dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, the kind of evening that ends with intimate conversation and a good-night kiss?”
A brush of electricity skittered across Carly’s lips at the memory of the kiss she’d shared with Ivan at the hospital. Even though she’d initiated the kiss, he’d quickly made himself an equal partner, inviting her to do whatever she liked with his handsome mouth, so long as he got to have his way with hers, as well. She thought he’d given her a glimpse of the man behind the crown. He’d called her a lioness, like she was brave and golden, a woman to be admired. If he’d called her sexy or beautiful, she’d have been less turned on, less likely to believe the connection growing between them.
Yesterday’s goodbye kiss had been a perfunctory farewell, kept necessarily short because of too little time and too much of an audience. But even that simple touch had crackled with electricity, reminding Carly of those private moments they’d shared in the hospital.
That kiss had been heady and decadent, the most grown-up, intense kiss she’d ever shared with a man. Despite his genteel facade, Ivan was all sharp angles and hard edges. His beard tickled her fingers, lips and palms. His jaw was warm, unbending, saved from perfection by the ridge of scar tissue that bisected it near his ear. But even more than the draw of his lips, she’d loved it when he’d held her in his arms before that kiss. She’d been on the verge of breaking down with fatigue and stress and self-doubts about being the right woman to pull off this job. She hadn’t been able to protect her brother, much less a visiting prince and the whole of Kansas City. Ivan had been rock-solid, more so than she’d expect from a man who filled his days with business meetings and press conferences, and she’d treasured the unfamiliar sensations of warmth and strength surrounding her. She was always the strong one in her family—on the emotional front, at any rate. She’d never dropped her guard and melted into a man’s chest before, trusting, for a few moments, at least, that someone could protect her for a change.
But Monday night hadn’t been a date. She wasn’t even sure it counted as a real kiss, despite yesterday’s picture in the society pages of the Kansas City Journal. Local Connection to Visiting Prince? hardly described whatever stars had aligned between them that night. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost track of everything except Ivan and the way his hand and mouth and heat had made her feel. He could have deepened that kiss for the reporter’s benefit, or to seal the believability of their cover story as reunited lovers for the curious eyes of Aleks Petrovic and suspicious glares from Filip Milevski. She didn’t have enough experience to read real passion versus a guy who was pretending he was into her. She only knew what she herself had felt. She was probably lucky they’d been interrupted before she followed the urge to climb right up the prince’s body and wrap herself around him.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Brooke smiled, politely ignoring Carly’s deer-in-the-headlights expression in the mirror. “Who’d have thought my best friend would be dating a prince?”
“For a week, Brooke. And it’s not dating so much as...” She almost ended the sentence with work. But remembering the need for secrecy, knowing that even a well-meaning friend could accidentally let it slip that she’d only known Ivan for a couple of days, that she was more bodyguard than girlfriend, Carly blinked her eyes and looked away. “Ivan wasn’t a prince when I knew him...before. I’m hardly going to get serious with a man who’s about to go off and run his own country in a week.”
“But that kiss...” Brooke had the good grace to blush at the photograph that might as well have been on the front page from all the teasing and comments she’d gotten from her brothers and coworkers. “It looked so romantic.”
Romantic wasn’t the half of it. Carly shrugged off the visceral memory, reminding herself not to make too much of the bond she felt to Ivan. This was a job. A responsibility. Not a happily-ever-after in the making. “I’d never fit into that world. My life is here. My job? Dad and the bros? They need me.”
Brooke seemed disappointed by her answer. “What about what you need?” Then she smiled again, as if she thought Carly needed cheering up. “That doesn’t mean you won’t find someone else after Ivan’s gone back to Europe.”
Carly silently thanked her for the unknowing save.
“Point taken. Maybe the wardrobe upgrade will help in the romance department. Maybe there’s an Atticus out there for me, too.” The fact that Brooke’s husband, a protective, by-the-book detective, doted on her gave Carly hope that one day she, too, would find a guy who’d either look past her lack of feminine charms or who’d embrace her awkward, kick-ass self for who she was. Princes with stellar kissing abilities need not apply. Time to change the conversation. “I’m lucky Captain Hendricks gave you today off to help with my makeover. Clearly, I wasn’t making the magic happen yesterday on my own.”
“I was already scheduled off this morning for my OB appointment.” Brooke dug through her purse and pulled out a bag of crackers and nibbled on one. Carly frowned, wondering if she’d been pushing her friend too hard today. Those crackers had been Brooke’s constant companion for the past eight months. “It gave me the opportunity for some last-minute pampering before the baby arrives.”
Carly hugged the discarded dresses to her chest and urged Brooke back out to the waiting area to hand them off to the clerk who’d been waiting on her. “You are not having that baby on my watch. I’ve got enough on my plate right now.”
Brooke laughed, rubbing her belly as she sat. “Relax. She’s not due for another three weeks.” She waved Carly back behind the curtain, reminding her that, even though this was the women’s department, she’d come out in her bra and a half-slip.
“You found out she’s a girl?” Carly tugged off the slip and added it to the pile of clothes she wanted to purchase.
“We didn’t want to know.” Brooke raised her voice to be heard through the curtain. “That’s what Atticus is hoping for, though. I guess with all his brothers, he’s tired of having so much testosterone in the family.”
Carly smiled at her friend’s humility. “He’s probably looking forward to a daughter who’s as sweet and pretty as her mama.”
“As long as she or he is healthy, that’s all I care about.”
“Are you sure you’re holding up okay? We’ve been at this for hours. I’m exhausted, and I’m not pregnant.” She poked her head out around the curtain. “Do you need to take a break?”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss seeing Carly Valentine in a dress and high heels for anything. I plan to take a picture, by the way. No one will believe me, otherwise.” She swallowed the last of her cracker. “You’d better start on the gowns. It’s after twelve thirty. Isn’t Prince Ivan meeting you at one?”
“I guess I can’t put it off any longer.” Carly groaned at the thought of all the lace, sequins and spiky heels waiting for her.
Twenty minutes later, with five of them spent trying to get a pair of strappy silver sandals cinched around her ankles before giving up on shoes altogether, she’d modeled lavender, champagne and blue gowns. Any one of them would do, as far as Carly was concerned, although Brooke had pointed out faults in too much skirt, showing too much skin, or looking like one of her spinster aunts.
Carly opened the curtain and stepped out in a pale turquoise gown with a beaded bodice and a simple, flowing skirt. “This is the last of them,” she announced. “Which one should I get?”
“That one,” a deep, accented voice answered.
Carly curled her toes into the carpet, lamenting the heat that crept into her cheeks the moment she realized Brooke wasn’t alone. Ivan was perched on the back of t
he couch, chatting with her friend. But he stood when Carly appeared, tucking his handkerchief into his pocket and sliding the glasses he’d been cleaning back over his gorgeous blue eyes. Hungry eyes, she thought, as he raked his gaze up and down her body. Happy to see her. Liking what he saw—if she could read a man correctly, and if this man’s expression actually conveyed the truth. Not everything was as it should be in royalty land, though, judging by the lines of fatigue framing those piercing blue eyes. Carly’s heart squeezed in concern over whatever stress was worrying him now. Had there been another threat? Another attempt on his life? A long, difficult meeting that hadn’t gone his way? Ivan revealed nothing but a smile.
“That color is stunning on you.” He pointed to her bare toes. “Although I do recommend shoes. There will be a lot of dancing at the ball.”
Carly backtracked from her initial worry. She was the bodyguard here, not his girlfriend. She looked beyond his shoulders, quickly scanning the store out to the double front doors, spotting Milevski waiting just outside. Reminding herself that she shouldn’t let her feelings get real for this man, she distanced herself with a joke. “I didn’t think my boots went with the look.” There was no one else in the shop save the clerk at the counter who’d paused in the middle of hanging up the dresses Carly had discarded to gawk at the handsome, raven-haired man who’d strolled into her department. “Where’s your security team?”
“Filip and the police are outside keeping anyone else from coming in. Danya and Eduard are clearing the floor of any other customers and staff.”
“Can you do that? Close down a store?” Carly asked, perhaps understanding for the first time the level of security necessary to allow a prince to be out in public. She saw Danya herding a group of employees into the break room. She traded scowls with the surly bodyguard before he closed the door and raised his arm to report into the radio he wore on his wrist. Then she saw Eduard chatting with a trio of young women as he opened the glass doors and walked them outside. “Of course, you can. You’ve already done it.” She dragged her gaze back to Ivan, hiking up her skirt and retreating to the dressing rooms. “I don’t want to hold you up. I’ll get changed and be ready ASAP.”
