Personal Protection

by Julie Miller

  After Filip headed out, Carly reluctantly put her phone away. “How far do you think someone like Danya would go to maintain his standards of honor and Lukin tradition? Clearly, he doesn’t think I’m worthy. Would he go after a prince who is modernizing and maybe even Americanizing his country?”

  “Everyone around me is suspect,” Ivan confessed. “Danya might feel he is putting country before king by sending those threats.”

  “No more gallant moves to defend me, okay?”

  “I make no guarantees.” Despite the distance she tried to keep, Ivan gripped her hand and they set out side by side. Although his team cleared the area immediately surrounding them, there were a few pointing fingers and whispers about a TV appearance that morning from the people they passed. One brave soul asked if she could take a picture with Ivan, and he obliged. Carly was aware of a few more phones capturing a snapshot or video, of bodyguards warning onlookers to keep their distance and of friendly questions from pedestrians they passed.

  Ivan answered each request with a wave and a smile and something complimentary to say about Kansas City. No one spoke to Carly directly, although she was certain she was included in some of those informal photographs.

  Lunch was a yummy mix of brisket, scalloped potatoes and conversation with a man who was both funny and endearing. Who was she kidding with the whole this-is-a-charade-don’t-let-your-heart-get-involved vow? Carly was already involved.

  She didn’t think she’d ever tire of looking into that polished, angular face that was more interesting than handsome. And she didn’t think she’d tire of listening to Ivan’s sexy accent—whether he was discussing food, the Lukin economy or the dribble of barbecue sauce he dabbed from the corner of her mouth. The more time she spent with Ivan, the less she thought of him as a prince and the more she thought of him as a man. An attractive man. An attractive man who made her feel feminine, and yet who respected, or perhaps was even fascinated by her independent spirit.

  The more time she spent with Ivan, the more the lines blurred between charade and reality. She might not fully trust that his kisses and flirtations were real, that he was falling for her the same way she was falling for him, but she could think of him as a friend. And she liked that. She liked that a lot.

  They polished off the crème brûlée he’d insisted they share for dessert while Ivan told her about his childhood in the poor mining town of Moravska, nestled in the mountains near the Lukinburg border. Including their military service and working-class upbringing, they had more in common than two people raised on different continents with such different futures might expect.

  “What happened to your parents?” Carly asked since he’d only mentioned the aunt and uncle who’d raised him. “Sorry. That was a little abrupt.” She cushioned the blow of the forward question by revealing her own loss. “My mom died in a freak accident. She was carrying laundry down to the basement, fell on the stairs and hit her head on the concrete floor. Dad was at work. Frank and Jesse were at school. I had half day kindergarten. I called 9-1-1 when I heard the crash. We’d just learned that at school—what to do if there’s an emergency.”

  His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and it was becoming less and less of a surprise when he reached across the table to take her hand. “You found your mother?”

  Carly was touched by his concern, but then shrugged it away with a smile. Her mother’s death was a tragedy that had impacted her entire life. But she’d also come to terms with the loss. “The ME said she died almost immediately. Not that I would have known how to help her. I just held her hand until the paramedics came.”

  Ivan’s thumb rubbed against the pulse point of her wrist. “You have always been a brave woman.”

  She wondered if he could feel the blood hammering through her veins at the subtle caress that was as arousing as it was comforting. “I was five years old. Hardly a woman.”

  “You took action. You did what needed to be done at a very difficult time. Even so young. I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Losing her so young also explains why I’m better at taking down bad guys than I am at dressing up and playing princess. As you might imagine, Dad and my brothers were never very good at that girlie-girl stuff.”

  He smiled at the joke for a moment before the laugh lines disappeared and he leaned into the table. “My parents were murdered by Vasily Gordeeva. He was head of a crime family who had great influence on the previous leaders of Lukinburg. Mother and Father took exception to having their wages garnished at the munitions factory where they worked to pad his bank account. They protested working conditions in general. When they led the movement to unionize laborers, there was a car bomb. My uncle whisked me away right after the funeral.”

  “Oh, my God. How awful. I’m so sorry.” She switched their grip to capture his hand with both of hers. Then she leaned in as a frightening possibility turned her compassion to suspicion. “Ivan. A car bomb? The bombing at St. Feodor? The king who was blown up? Couldn’t the incidents be related? Could what’s happening now be a part of the protests your parents were involved with?”

  “Of course not. Mother and Father were never...” He released her and sat back in the booth, pulling off his glasses and rubbing at the dimples on either side of his nose left by the frames as if he was plagued by a sudden headache. He set his glasses on top of the table and focused those blue eyes at her. “Gordeeva died in 2012, after serving time in prison. His influence on the former government’s regime died when he did. The king’s assassination happened when my parents were children. They are not related.”

  But Carly couldn’t ignore the obvious similarities between the crimes. “Ivan, we can’t dismiss any possibility right now. Even something that happened years ago. When you’re investigating a case, you look at all the facts and then come up with a theory. You don’t force the facts to fit into whatever theory you might have.”

  “Their murders are not related to any of the threats against the crown.” On that royal dictate, he slid out of the booth and buttoned his jacket, preparing to leave.

  But she was neither a Lukinburg citizen, subject to his will, nor ready to give up on the potential source for the threats against him. “Crime families are known for exacting their revenge. If your parents’ murders are the reason he went to prison—”

  “My parents’ deaths have nothing to do with the threats now,” he snapped in a hushed tone. End of discussion.

  For him, maybe. “You forgot these, Bossy Boots. Excuse me, Your Royal Bossy Boots.” She scooped up his glasses from the table as she stood, refusing to ignore what he’d told her. “Did Gordeeva have family? People who feel they’ve been wronged have long memories.”

  “Bossy Boots? The words make no sense to me. But I understand by your attitude that I was rude. No better than Danya.” He inclined his head in a brief bow. “I apologize for my tone. We should go.” He slipped his glasses on and headed for the front door.

  Once they reached the lobby, Filip stepped in to handle the bill and tip. Carly pulled Ivan into a relatively private corner of the foyer. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

  His chest expanded with a deep breath before he captured her face between his hands and touched his forehead to hers. “I have been as honest with you as the dictates of this position allow me to be.” His fingers slipped into her hair and tightened around her skull as he pressed a hard kiss to her lips. She felt the stamp of his mouth like a brand against her skin. Her blood quickened in her veins and pooled in places that made her feverish with desire. But he ended the kiss before she could fully respond. “Please do not hold this against me. I cannot tell you how important your trust is to me.”

  Carly wound her fingers around his wrists to keep him from pulling away. “Do you really think keeping secrets right now is the smartest way to go? How can I protect you if I don’t know everything I need to?”

  “I have said t
oo much already. You...” He smoothed her hair into place as his mouth twisted with a wry smile. “You distract me. You are a breath of fresh air in a life that has not been my own for these long past months. But I cannot forget my duty to my country.” He pulled away, capturing the braid that hung in front of her shoulder before releasing that, too. “I am sorry, dorogoy.”

  She studied him intently, on the verge of understanding something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe after all these years, her feminine intuition was finally kicking in, and she was recognizing the genuineness of his interest in her, along with the regret he felt at starting something that couldn’t last. She stretched up on tiptoe to capture his mouth in a quick kiss that didn’t convey half of what she was thinking or feeling, only that she was thinking about and feeling more for this troubled prince and this impossible relationship than a street-smart survivor like her should.

  “We’re still partners in this. Even if you can’t tell me everything. Right now.” She hinted that maybe he would before this week was over, although he gave no indication that he might. With her undercover work, she understood about keeping secrets better than most. Still, when it came to her personal life, she wasn’t a big fan of holding back the truth. With a mental slap to the back of the head, she reminded herself that her relationship with Ivan was an undercover assignment, not the real deal, no matter what her blossoming feminine intuition might say. “We’d better get going. I won’t have Danya accusing me of making you late for your next appointment in addition to forcing you to eat burnt American food.”

  He laughed at that, his expression relaxing into a more natural smile. “Do you know how many people are afraid to stand up for what they honestly think if it differs from my opinion? Other than the threats, they kowtow to the crown and tell me what they think I want to hear. Never be that person.”

  “Mouthy? Pushy?”

  “Honest.”

  The irony that he wasn’t being completely honest with her wasn’t lost on either of them. She could read the regret in his eyes. Maybe that was a hazard of politics. There were always secrets to keep.

  Filip nudged Ivan from behind before she could decide how to respond to that compliment. “We are ready, Your Highness.”

  Ivan linked his hand with hers and they walked out the door together. This time, in addition to the suffocating envelope of humid air pressing around them, a group of pedestrians had gathered on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, blocking their path.

  “He was on TV.”

  “I saw him in the paper.”

  “I thought he was single.”

  “He’s cute.”

  “Prince Ivan!”

  Cars stopped on the street beyond them, too, the drivers curious about why people were congregating there. And although a few pedestrians walked on by, most of them stopped, growing the size of the crowd in either direction. Almost all of them raised their phones to snap pictures and videos, and call or text their friends to share this brush with fame. Others held out pens and various items like notebooks and coffee cups for an autograph.

  Ivan pulled up, smiling and waving for a few pictures. A school-age girl handed Carly a flower and asked if she was a princess.

  But there was no place for them to go without walking into the crowd.

  Danya grumbled behind them. “I believe the tourists are now aware that there is royalty among them. We should go back inside and wait for the car to pick you up.”

  Filip stepped toward the crowd, pushing them back as he gave Danya an order. “Get them moving toward the parking garage.” He turned to their audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, please. Prince Ivan is grateful for your interest and support, but he must get to his next engagement.”

  Carly wondered how anyone could possibly get used to this kind of attention when she saw a white van pulling up on the other side of the median. A man scrambled out from behind the wheel and hefted a camera onto his shoulder. She recognized the dark-haired woman from a local news station scurrying after him with a microphone. “A TV crew is here, too.” Someone in the crowd called her Blondie, told her to smile and snapped a picture. She was certain she’d looked more startled than photogenic. “Is this normal?”

  Ivan managed to speak under his breath without losing his smile. “Not spur-of-the-moment like this. There are other public appearances planned, with larger venues to accommodate this many people. This is unexpected. Someone must have posted to social media that I was at the restaurant.”

  Not anyone who wished him well. “This could turn ugly fast.” She tugged on Ivan’s hand, pulling him with her a few steps. “Someone could get hurt.”

  But it seemed that for every square foot of pavement Filip cleared in their forward route, the curious onlookers who’d spotted the visiting celebrity pushed in that much closer behind them. Soon, Carly’s and Ivan’s backs were against the stucco walls and storefront windows, and their path to the next cross street was blocked. Traffic was quickly backing up beyond that. It didn’t help that Ivan was being his cordial, diplomatic self and answering questions on everything from “What did you have to eat?” and “Do you have a crown?” to “How much gold is in Lukinburg?”

  “We have plenty of gold now that we have developed new mining practices,” he explained. But either she tugged, or he nudged with each answer to keep them moving toward the street. “Our real treasure is quartz, which is used in high-tech applications, such as circuit boards and computer components here in your country.” He planted his feet and stared into the crowd as people jostled for position to see and hear him. Carly understood now that he was trying to control the crowd, to keep them from stampeding or stumbling off a curb or getting pushed in front of a moving vehicle. The crowd pulsed like a living, breathing thing. And while Carly searched for a clear path, Ivan raised his voice to be heard. “Please. I am happy to answer your questions. Perhaps if we all take a deep breath.”

  Carly turned her face to his shoulder. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess. But we need to get out of here.”

  The click of cameras and phones and whispered conversations sounded like the buzzing of bees. “Any ideas?”

  “I’m thinking.” She scanned up and down the street, looked past the crowd, glimpsed everyone’s reflection in the display window behind them. Something wasn’t right. She turned, trying to make eye contact with every face in the crowd.

  Ivan answered a question about the upcoming ball. Maybe if he kept talking, they would stand still and listen. “We are hosting a joint fund-raiser with one of your local universities to develop clean technology that will use our natural resources. I will be meeting with Dr. Ian Lombard and his team tomorrow to discuss this exciting new research.”

  “Is it true that someone tried to kill you?” someone shouted.

  Ivan’s smooth facade slipped for a moment. His grip tightened on Carly’s hand and the crowd fell silent. Like Carly, he skimmed the faces in the crowd to see who had asked that. “I am sorry. Who...?”

  The chatter started up as suddenly as it had stopped, growing louder as people shouted questions and turned to each other to voice curiosity about Ivan’s well-being and concern about the threat of danger to themselves.

  “Have those threats followed you to Kansas City?” The television camera caught them in a spotlight as the female reporter thrust her microphone toward Ivan. “I heard that someone tried to poison you.”

  Ivan shielded his eyes and muttered under his breath to Carly. “I did not publicize—”

  “That reporter at the hospital,” Carly seethed beneath her breath. “He wasn’t after a scandal. He wanted to know what happened to Frank. He must know about the threats.”

  “If I get my hands on Ralph Decker—”

  “Please. Ladies and gentlemen.” Filip moved in front of them, his sheer bulk forcing the crowd back a couple of feet. “Prince Ivan’s security and that of your
people is our top priority. As you can see, he is perfectly fine.” The camera’s bright light swung toward him. “We are working very closely with the local police to ensure everyone’s safety throughout our visit to your lovely city.”

  Danya cursed ahead of them. “Where are all your police friends now?”

  Good question. Lunch had lasted over an hour. Hendricks should have had officers on the scene long before now. “Did you call for backup?”

  Filip bought them two more steps. “Of course I did.”

  Did he? Did he really?

  “Where are they?” Carly glared at him. There should be bicycle cops, patrol cars. She should have followed her instincts and called Hendricks herself.

  But this wasn’t the time for placing blame. Maybe the traitor had countermanded Milevski’s order. Maybe Milevski had seen an opportunity to create chaos to mask an attempt on Ivan’s life, and had never called for local reinforcements at all.

  Danya shouted to them from the corner. “This way!” But the path he’d made to the crosswalk filled in before they could reach it. “Eduard! Get the car. Now!”

  “Yes, sir!” The younger bodyguard pushed his way through the mass of people. When he reached the relative opening of the boulevard, Eduard put up his hand to stop traffic, running across to the median and onto the next block.

  “Go.” Filip looked over his shoulder and used his head to point them toward Danya. “I will handle this.” He turned back to the reporter. “If you want specific details about the poisoning incident, you should contact Galina Honchar at—”

  “Your Highness!” Danya moved a pair of teenagers aside and waved Ivan closer.

  They weren’t going to make it. Ivan bumped into Carly’s back when she stopped abruptly.

  Ivan’s hands clamped around her shoulders. “Carly?”

  Something wasn’t right here. This was no ordinary gathering of fans and curiosity-seekers. “Do you feel like you’re being herded to a particular place? In a particular direction?”

  Ivan considered her assessment. His fingers tightened in a silent yes. “We have no other way to go.”