The Duke’s Covert Mission

by Julie Miller

  The chain rattled on the concrete behind him as Ellie crawled into the sleeping bag. His stomach knotted at the desolate sound. If he was in Ellie’s place, he’d have done the very same thing.

  His anger seeped out on a resigned sigh. He had to admire the hell out of a woman who had the guts to do whatever it took to survive. “You can blame me for taking advantage if it’ll soothe that virginal outrage of yours.”

  Ellie said nothing. Agreed to nothing. Forgave nothing.

  It would have been easier on his ego if she’d admit she’d really wanted his kiss. That she hadn’t simply endured his touch in order to hide an ulterior motive. Or worse, because she pitied the grown man who couldn’t shake the nightmares of his past.

  But then, he already carried a truckload of guilt on his conscience. Why not pile on a few bricks more?

  “THE NECKLACE WAS most persuasive. Easton’s agreed to the ransom. I’ll call him later to make arrangements for the exchange tonight.” Winston Rademacher glanced into the side-view mirror of his rented SUV and adjusted his Italian-silk tie. “I’ll set up something in one of the towns nearby. Goshen or Milton, perhaps.”

  Cade tossed another log into the fire pit where he was heating water for a shave and a bath. He needed to clean Ellie’s scent off his skin and regain some objectivity to focus on this job. Rademacher hadn’t even wanted to venture into the ratty house today, preferring to stay near the more luxurious appointments of the vehicle. Cade brushed the dirt off his hands and walked over to where Jerome and Lenny were talking to him.

  “I thought we were driving back into the city for the exchange.” Cade challenged the latest alteration in their original plan.

  “I remind you, Your Grace…” The snide mockery Winston gave the title screeched along Cade’s nerve-endings like nails against a chalkboard. But because he still needed information from Winston, he let the dig slide, unchallenged, into that unmarked pit where his soul had once resided. “You’re merely the hired muscle in this endeavor. I’ll do the thinking and you’ll do the following of the orders. Otherwise, that money your father owes me will have to come out of your pocket.”

  Jerome snickered at the insult from his perch on a stump, not realizing he was nothing more than hired help to Rademacher, either. “He’s got your number, Sinjun.”

  Cade let Jerome wallow in his own ignorance for now. He fisted his hands at his sides, conquering the urge to ram one of them down Rademacher’s throat. Not because he minded paying a rightful debt, but because the man never let the old news die.

  Rademacher laughed out loud. “We all know the measly sort of income a soldier-turned-public-servant like you makes, don’t we? Believe me, your special skills are more valuable than your earnings or your title. A smart man capitalizes on his assets. He doesn’t play up his weaknesses. Of course, your father never learned that lesson, either, did he?”

  “Enjoy your potshots while you can, Rademacher. If this job goes any further south on us, I’m bailing. Then I’ll come after you personally and put my special skills to work on you.”

  “Hey, for once I agree with the pretty boy,” Jerome chimed in, puffing a cloud of smoke. He injected his incessant whine into the conversation. “That princess has been nothing but trouble. I say we cut our losses, cut her and get the hell out of the country.”

  Winston’s long nose wrinkled in distaste, whether at Jerome’s stench or his opinion was impossible to discern. He flashed those dark, enigmatic eyes at the crippled team leader. “Cutting people seems to be your answer for everything, Mr. Smython. I trust Princess Lucia hasn’t been harmed at the expense of your temper?”

  Jerome’s beady little eyes darted to Cade. He still wasn’t thrilled with his possessive claim of their prisoner. Fire-man wanted old-fashioned justice, inflicting pain to pay for his pain. Cade crossed his arms over his chest and braced his feet apart, readying for a fight, reminding Jerome he was ready to inflict a little pain of his own if he should get out of line with Ellie again.

  Jerome might not like it, but he got the message. He ground his cigarette beneath the boot of his good foot and looked at Rademacher. “She has a full-time bodyguard now.”

  “I see.” Winston’s disgust lightened to curiosity as he glanced back at Cade. “So you’ve taken a personal interest in this job. Is that why you’re so eager to bail before you’ve seen the rest of your money? Put your noble aspirations aside, Sinjun. I promise you, a woman of the princess’s stature won’t have a thing to do with a man like you. No money. No honor. A worthless title. You’re fooling yourself if you think otherwise.”

  Cade had no false notions about being good enough for a woman like Ellie, either. She didn’t need a royal title to stand above him in both class and reputation.

  “I don’t plan to marry the woman,” he answered honestly. And despite her eagerness to learn more about having a relationship with a man, he didn’t think she’d settle for anything less than a ring on her finger. He didn’t want her to.

  He could teach her a thing or two about sex, if she was willing. Yeah. He’d enjoy doing that. But someone else would have to teach her about love and happy endings. He’d never believed in them himself.

  Though somehow, the idea of another man teaching Ellie anything was about as appealing as the idea of Jerome putting his hands on her again. Dismissing that faintly unsettled feeling as a couple of territorial hormones still running their course, Cade turned his attention back to attacking Winston’s snobbish amusement.

  “I thought the goal was to return Princess Lucia in one piece. The way things are going, I didn’t think we could guarantee that unless I kept her away from Romeo there.”

  Rademacher’s nostrils flared with a deep breath. His thin lips parted to release the air, looking for all the world as if this conversation over the hostage’s welfare suddenly bored him.

  He swung his gaze to Lenny, who stood quietly back from their meeting, leaning against the trunk of an equally indomitable oak tree. “Mr. Gratfield, you’re in agreement with the idea of abandoning this project?”

  Lenny rubbed his hand along his jaw, giving the question consideration before speaking. “Things haven’t gone as smoothly as I would have liked. The girl got away from us yesterday morning.”

  “Got away?”

  Lenny nodded. “Sinjun ran her down. I brought Jerome back here to fix his leg. Did you know we have a neighbor about a mile and a half up the road?”

  Winston’s squinty eyes narrowed an impossible fraction without closing. “What are you talking about?”

  “She ran to the neighbor’s. An old fisherman was there.”

  “Did she talk to him?”

  Cade answered that one. “No. Nothing that made any sense, at least.”

  Winston adjusted a cuff link on the crisp French cuff of his sleeve. Was that a sign of nervous energy? Cade wondered. Did this man who claimed to be an expert at “connecting” the right people have connections with a hit man? Or was the sudden, subtle activity an indication that he, too, was worried about the unexpected development? “Did this fisherman recognize her?”

  “Why don’t you tell us?” Cade challenged.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The fisherman said his name is Tony Costa. But we’re more familiar with his code name. Sonny. He served as a sniper in the Korosolan Army.”

  “You’re joking. Just down the road?”

  “I don’t buy coincidence,” said Lenny. His matter-of-fact intonation echoed Cade’s suspicions.

  Winston played with the other cuff link, his forehead creasing in a thoughtful frown. “I’ll look into it. I don’t think Easton’s on to us. He’s still busy interviewing possible suspects.”

  “Any of them your client?” asked Cade. The opportunity was too good to pass up.

  But then, Rademacher was no fool. He was incredibly loyal to their mysterious boss. Instead of an automatic response, he took his time to think before speaking.

  It was easy for Cade to see h
ow his father had been duped by the man’s cold expression. Across a European gaming table or across an abandoned clearing in northwest Connecticut, Winston Rademacher revealed nothing.

  “Your fascination with an employer who chooses to remain anonymous borders on insubordination.” Winston smoothed his lapels and slipped his hand inside the front of his jacket. Cade dropped his hand to his holster and unsnapped it, reacting instinctively to the threat of whatever weapon Rademacher might be hiding, rather than the imperious Napoleonic image he created. “What do they do to soldiers who disobey orders?”

  “You can get court-martialed or demoted.”

  Winston withdrew his empty hand and buttoned the front of his coat. He ran his tongue along his lips, as if he was savoring the idea. “Interesting.”

  Cade snapped up his chin into the military bearing he had once worn with such pride. “You want to kick me off the team?”

  Winston remained unimpressed with the challenge. “No, Sinjun. I want to keep you right where I can see you.”

  Dismissing Cade’s challenge, dismissing Cade himself, Winston opened the door and climbed into the SUV. He started the engine and rolled down the window to give one final command.

  “Have the princess cleaned up and ready to go. I’ll be here tonight at nine.” His imperious gaze slid over Cade, Lenny and Jerome. “In the meantime, make yourselves presentable, as well.”

  He drove off without even kicking up mud onto the vehicle’s undercarriage. The man liked things too damn neat for Cade’s taste. Once he turned onto the asphalt road and headed south, Cade nodded to Lenny. The big man picked up a pack and a rifle from inside the kitchen and jogged out to the trees.

  “What’s going on?” Jerome planted his walking stick into the ground and vaulted onto his good foot. “Lenny, where you going?”

  But the big man disappeared without answering. Cade didn’t waste any time listening to Jerome’s arguments. He snapped his holster shut and set about stoking the fire. “I don’t know about you, but Lenny and I aren’t real comfortable with the idea of Sonny next door. I sent Lenny to keep an eye on him.”

  Jerome limped after him. “Who’s giving the orders around here?”

  “I am.” Cade whirled around and faced him, using Jerome’s startled flinch to make his point about the little man’s combat readiness. “Unless you want to deal with Sonny on your own. I need our vehicle running without a hitch. Can you get the gear packed?”

  Jerome weighed the chances of his bum leg against a legendary, albeit retired, hit man. “Yeah. I’ll take care of the car.”

  Cursing and grumbling every uneven step of the way, Jerome hobbled over to the car. He lit a cigarette, then opened the hood to check inside. Idiot, thought Cade. Fire-man’s own excesses would kill him if nobody else got the job done first.

  Time was running out.

  He filled two buckets with water and put them on the fire to heat up. Lenny would be setting up a hidden watch post to keep an eye on Tony Costa by now.

  Cade would stay behind and protect Ellie from Jerome and any other threat, and prep her for what threatened to be the final night of her short, sweet life.

  Chapter Eight

  Ellie paced the concrete floor in the morning light. It filtered in through the dirty windows, illuminating the pictures she’d drawn in the dust.

  Since she couldn’t identify the tires of the vehicle that had driven up to the house that morning and parked outside the windows, nor make out any specific words from the discussion of the group of men that followed, she’d busied herself recalling the images she’d seen in Lenny’s notebook. She’d thumbed through the pages by lantern light last night while Cade slept. With the last few hours of her life ticking away, there didn’t seem to be much point in getting a good night’s rest.

  She wondered if he’d figured out yet that she hadn’t picked his pocket when she’d gone to cover him with the blanket, but had done so earlier. He’d fallen into a deep, troubled sleep that made it possible for her to crawl over and reach into his hip pocket without him noticing.

  But an hour or so later, his troubled sleep seemed to worsen. That restless, shivering sound he’d made while he slept had frightened her as much as a nightmare of her own would have. Despite her best efforts not to care, she hadn’t been able to resist his pain. She didn’t know how she could help him, but she had to do something. Maybe he’d been on the verge of waking himself up when she’d pulled the blanket over his legs and chest.

  And then he’d…they’d…

  Ellie made a shivering sound herself. She hugged her arms around her middle and lifted her fingertips to her lips. She could still taste Cade on her mouth, still feel his urgent touch on her skin.

  What Ellie knew about men, she could pour into a thimble and still have room left over to fill with foolish dreams.

  But even she knew Cade had done more than kiss her. He’d consumed her.

  Without her knowing when or how, he’d turned comfort into desire, and desire into need. They’d needed each other. And for a few, blazing, unforgettable minutes, everything she’d ever longed for in her lonely life had been right there in the palm of her hand.

  Three days ago she’d thought a dance would be enough to sustain her through her lonely life. One grand, glorious waltz would provide enough adventure to nourish her until she found the man of her dreams—and worked up the nerve to talk to him. But now that Cade had kissed her—twice—had kissed her and held her and shown her how wildly responsive her body could be to a man’s touch, she wanted more.

  Cade seemed to have known from the beginning that she had no experience with men. But the crazy thing was, he didn’t seem to mind. His touches had been encouraging, enjoyable, erotic. Not punishing or mocking like Jerome’s. Cade had shown her that a man could find her attractive. That her shyness hadn’t sentenced her to a solitary life.

  Maybe she’d been wrong to think in terms of potential spinsterhood. Maybe there was a future out there for her beyond devoting herself to her king or her parents. Maybe she could find a man who would be devoted to her.

  If he was perceptive enough to find some beauty behind her thick glasses and plain features. If he was persistent enough to get beyond her shyness. If he was patient enough to help her understand how to please him and, ultimately, to please herself.

  Three days ago, all she’d wanted was one dance.

  Now? She wanted Cade St. John.

  He was perceptive, persistent and patient.

  And handsome and sexy and more aggressively male than any man she’d ever met. He needed her in a way that her limited experience couldn’t define. Needed her in a way that made her feel alive and important and absolutely necessary.

  He was also ready to kill her.

  Ellie shook all the way from her head to her bare toes as a corresponding chill worked its way through her system. No wonder she’d never drawn the attention of men before. She was crazy. Common sense told her to fight, to run. But some insane intuition kept bringing her back to Cade time and again, telling her to talk to him, to trust him, to put herself in his hands and believe that everything would be all right somehow.

  Ellie had always relied on common sense.

  And so she planned to fight and run, and bury those burgeoning feelings and crazy intuitions deep inside where they couldn’t get her killed.

  With that debate settled for the third time that morning, she walked around the stylized symbol she’d drawn in the dust and studied it. Breaking the code in Lenny’s notebook might or might not help her gain her freedom. But it beat going stir-crazy. And the book was important to Cade. Important enough to steal and then blow his top over when he found out she had it. Solving the riddles inside would surely give her some kind of advantage to work with.

  Ellie squatted down and traced the lines with her finger. It looked like a winged arrow shooting into the middle of a semicircle. She’d found this symbol in at least three different places in Lenny’s notebook. A doodle of some
kind amongst the bits of words and numbers.

  She ran her finger down the line in the middle, then circled around the outer curve. It felt as if she’d just written the letter D.

  Ellie’s eyes opened wide, and a similar recognition unfurled inside her. “They’re letters. D.” She followed the arrow lines backward. “K and F.”

  She’d seen those same three letters numerous times in letters she’d transcribed for King Easton. “KDF. Korosolan Democratic Front.”

  Was Lenny a member of the extremist political party that had only recently joined the Parliament and retired from its militant ways? Had they hired Lenny to carry out one of their purported bombings or shootings? Was kidnapping Princess Lucia part of some new revolution?

  She leaned back on her haunches. “They can’t do that.” King Easton had worked tirelessly to integrate the KDF into the Korosolan government. Was the KDF using her—or rather, Lucia Carradigne—to destroy her peaceful homeland? “They can’t do that,” she repeated, a surge of patriotism firing her temper.

  “Who are you talking to?” Cade’s velvet voice skittered along nerves that had already flashed on alert.

  Ellie stood, smearing her toes across the dust and erasing the symbol she’d drawn. “No one.”

  A bell in her head and some kind of drum in her chest pounded out a rapid, unexpected response. But the surprise of being caught off guard faded as a new rhythm took over inside her.

  He’d shaved.

  She’d expected to discover that pure danger lay camouflaged beneath his scruffy beard. Instead, she saw two boyish dimples softening the sharp, aristocratic lines of his handsome face. When she realized she was standing there gawking at him as if she’d never seen a man before, she looked away. Her cheeks flushed with heat and she had to open her mouth and take a deep breath to cool herself off and think straight.

  She couldn’t afford to notice that his bottom lip jutted out in an amused smirk right now. That his whole mouth sat slightly crooked on his face thanks to a small scar at the left corner of his top lip. She needed to make herself an opportunity to escape.