Alec's Royal Assignment (Man On A Mission Book 3)

by Amelia Autin

  Determination grew in Alec. Hard. Cold. Not just to bring Vishenko down, but to rescue Caterina and help her understand she was the victim. That she wasn’t responsible for anything that had happened to her. The same way he’d helped Angelina understand she wasn’t responsible for the deaths of Sasha Tcholek and Yuri Ivanovitch. These things had happened, and they couldn’t be undone. They just had to be lived with. But the blame—the blame had to be placed where it truly belonged.

  “We’ll find her, Angel,” he promised, his heart aching for what Angelina was going through. “We’ll find her. And when we do...” She’ll never have to feel ashamed again.

  * * *

  “Stop right there!”

  Cate froze with one hand on the front door to the rooming house in Boulder, Colorado, where she’d moved in three weeks ago, waiting for the bullets that would tear her body apart. Vishenko’s men had found her again. She couldn’t escape as she had at the bus stop in Denver—there was nowhere to run this time.

  Six years, she thought, not bothering to utter a last-minute prayer she knew wouldn’t be answered. At least I lived six years free from him. Even if it had only been a day, one day of freedom would have been worth it after spending two years as his prisoner, and I had six years.

  “Put your hands up where we can see them. Then slowly, very slowly, turn around.”

  Confused—because she expected to be dead already, or at least gasping out her last breaths on the ground—Cate obeyed, putting her hands up as she slowly turned around to face whoever was behind her. A man and a woman stood there, both wearing dark blue jackets and vests over beige pants, their guns drawn and pointed at her. Emblazoned across the pocket of the vests was the word POLICE. And underneath that word was another word, one she had no trouble recognizing. ICE. And though it wasn’t as bad as she’d first feared, it was bad enough.

  Chapter 16

  That night, Alec reviewed what Angelina had written down about her cousin. Every memory, every facet of her character, every motivation. Everything. “Okay,” he told her. “This is good. I can’t swear to it, but it might help find her. All we can do now is turn this over to Keira and see what she can do with it.”

  He put the voluminous document—which Angelina had typed on her computer, organized and cross-referenced before printing it out—to one side. Then he took her hands in his and kissed them both before sitting her down on the sofa. “We have to talk about something,” he told her, settling himself next to her. Close enough so she could feel the warmth emanating from his body but just far enough away not to be touching her. And she knew instantly something was wrong.

  “What is it?”

  “Captain Zale came to see me today,” he began, but stopped. “There’s no way to say this except straight out,” he told her roughly. “Captain Zale knows about us. About you and me.”

  “You told him?” Angelina couldn’t believe it. Betrayal? From Alec?

  “I didn’t have to. He already knew. But yeah, I confirmed it.”

  “How? How did he know?”

  “Apparently you, along with everyone else on the security details, are under observation by Zakhar’s secret intelligence service.”

  She blinked but made the connection. “The assassination attempt. Of course. The king said he wanted us all investigated. I did not realize...” She glanced down at her hands. “I am sorry, Alec. I should have thought of this. I should have—”

  He crushed her hands in his. “Don’t apologize. If you think I give a damn who knows about us, think again.” He loosened his grip but still kept possession of her hands. “I know you wanted to keep our relationship a secret, at least for a while. Especially from your captain.” She still refused to look up, but she sensed his internal struggle, could hear the strain in his voice. “But I’m not ashamed, and as far as I’m concerned, the whole world can know about us. Or the whole world can go to hell.”

  She raised her face to his then, and saw the truth in his eyes. “I refused to lie to your captain,” Alec said now, a hard edge to his voice. “When he told me he knew about us, I admitted it. But I also told him you have the right to keep your private life private, so long as it doesn’t impact your job. And he knows it won’t.”

  “Then he does not think less of me? It is not an issue?”

  “Why the hell should he think less of you?” The challenge in his words was matched by his tone. “You’re a woman, Angel. A living, breathing woman, not an automaton. Neither is he. In fact—” He stopped abruptly, as if he wasn’t sure he should say anything more. But then he said, “In fact, I just found out he has a date tonight with my administrative assistant.”

  “A date?” Angelina couldn’t believe it. “Captain Zale?”

  Alec laughed suddenly, and then she did, too. “What’s wrong with that? As far as I can tell, he’s a normal man with functioning parts. You act like he’s not allowed to be human.”

  “No, not that, but...” It still struck her as funny, and she chuckled. “He is very much a man. No question of that. He is much sought after by women, this I know—it is no secret within the ranks. But he has time only for his duty. His eyes are always on the queen.” Angelina suddenly realized how this might sound, and hurried to clarify. “Not that he is interested in the queen that way. Please do not misunderstand.”

  “Don’t worry,” Alec assured her. “I wasn’t thinking along those lines. Besides,” he added dryly, “it would take an extremely brave—or reckless—man to touch anything belonging to your king. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who would tolerate that, not for a second.”

  “That is a very sexist thing to say,” she retorted. “The queen is not a thing, and—”

  “Okay, okay,” Alec said, holding up his hands, palms outward. “Forget I said it.”

  But Angelina could tell he was still thinking it. So Alec is not perfect, after all, she realized. In some ways, he is a typical man, with typical male thinking. It didn’t make her love him any less. Just the opposite, in fact. It was somewhat endearing to know that Alec—so perfect in many ways—had his faults just like everyone else.

  Then another thought crept into her mind, distracting her from consideration of Alec’s few faults, and she blurted out before she meant to, “I have never known Captain Zale to date. Is she very beautiful, this assistant of yours?”

  Alec’s eyes widened in surprise, and Angelina cursed her unruly tongue. “You’re jealous,” he said eventually, as if he couldn’t believe it.

  “No, I...how can there be jealousy when there is trust?” she asked, suddenly flustered in a way she hadn’t been since high school. “And I trust you. I... I am not jealous, you understand. I would merely like to know.”

  Alec tried to suppress the unholy glee in his expressive eyes but failed. And that is another fault in him, Angelina averred with a spurt of anger. He laughs at the most inappropriate times. But when she admitted the truth to herself, her anger faded.

  “Yes, I am jealous. I do not mean to be,” she said seriously. “But I...what are you doing?” Alec was stripping off his coat, his shoulder harness, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?” she asked again, bewildered.

  “Proving to you there’s no reason to be jealous. Not of Tahra. Not of any woman.” He was completely naked now, except for his socks, which he stripped off with an un-self-conscious air. He was magnificently aroused already, but his hand went to his erection, stroking it a couple of times until it swelled even larger. Impossibly larger. He bent down and retrieved a condom from his pants pocket, which he quickly rolled on. Angelina watched for a moment, then glanced up at Alec’s face, trying to read his intentions in his determined expression.

  “I’m all yours, Angel,” he said as he pulled her to her feet. He hooked his hands underneath her armpits and lifted. She automatically wrapped her legs ar
ound his hips and grasped his shoulders for balance, feeling him hard and heavy against the crux of her thighs, as his hands moved to her hips to hold her. And just like that, she wanted him. But she wanted to be naked, too. Wanted to feel his hard warmth inside her where it belonged. Where he belonged.

  He kissed her, putting his whole soul into it. “All yours,” he murmured, grinding his pelvis against hers. Teasing her. “Every inch. Every time. All yours.”

  He walked into her bedroom carrying her that way and tumbled her onto the bed. He stripped off her shoes, her slacks, her panties in no time, but left the rest of her clothes untouched. He fitted himself into place, and the teasing expression disappeared. “Tell me you want me,” he demanded. “Tell me.”

  She arched her hips upward, wanting everything he offered. Everything he was. “Yes,” she panted. “Yes.”

  He surged into her. No foreplay, nothing to prepare her for his entry, but she was already so wet, so ready for him, all she could do was moan in pleasure at the incredible feeling of being stretched, filled, taken to a whole different plane. Then he was riding her hard and fast, so fast she couldn’t catch her breath. So fast she exploded without warning, arching and crying his name as he rocked her with his deep thrusts, her body milking his uncontrollably when he exploded, too, driving himself deep with his last thrust.

  They lay there like that forever, it seemed. Her legs locked around his hips, holding him tight and deep inside her. His lips found her throat and he kissed her there, just a slight movement, but enough for her to feel it. He was still shaking, tremors running through his muscles. But so was she. They were both breathing hard, depleted. And yet... Angelina tightened her pelvic muscles around his erection, and he groaned. Not pain, she told herself with a secret smile. Pleasure. So she did it again. Then again.

  He groaned each time, but he didn’t ask her to stop. Eventually, though, she was forced to let him go, unlock her legs and let him roll off her body to lie beside her with one arm thrown across his face. He didn’t say anything, just lay there breathing hard. And that was the first inkling she had that something wasn’t right.

  “Alec?” She touched his arm tentatively, but he refused to remove it from his face. Then he drew a deep, shuddering breath and sat up abruptly, his arm falling away.

  “It’s not enough, Angel. Not for me. Not anymore.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “I can’t just make love to you and pretend that’s all I want.” He ripped off the condom and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he sat next to her on the bed and dragged a corner of the coverlet over her.

  His eyes closed for a moment as an expression she didn’t understand flickered across his face. His jaw tightened and he swallowed. Hard. When his eyes finally met hers, he said, “I...you want to talk sexist? I wanted to mark you as mine. I started out wanting to prove I belong to you, only to you. And then somehow, along the way, that changed. I wanted so badly to prove you belong to me. And I didn’t want to wear a condom this time.”

  Angelina caught her breath because it sounded as if Alec was saying...

  “I love you, Angel. I wouldn’t admit it to myself until this morning, when Captain Zale came to see me. When I thought something had happened to you. And I realized I don’t want to be a survivor if it means being without you.”

  “Alec—”

  “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” he continued, cutting her off. “This isn’t what you planned. I know that. But I—”

  “Alec—”

  “No, let me finish. I can make you happy, Angel, if you’ll let me. I can—”

  Angelina reached up, slid her hand around his neck and pulled him down for an endless kiss. When their lips finally parted, she murmured dreamily, “I love you, too, Alec.”

  He looked blown away by her confession. “You do? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She laughed deep in her throat. “To answer your questions in order, yes. Since last night. At least, that is when I admitted it to myself. And I did not tell you because I did not want you to know. Not until...”

  “Why didn’t you want me to know?”

  She could feel warmth creeping into her cheeks. “Because I am more Zakharian than I knew, and in Zakhar a woman does not...not first, you understand.” She held his gaze. “And because for years I told myself I could not have what other women have. Not and have my career, too. But that was before I met you.”

  His face contracted. “I told you I’m more traditional than you think I am. Not that I want you to give up your career, but I want the whole nine yards, Angel.” When she shook her head, not understanding the reference, he explained, “I want the whole picture. Marriage. Children.”

  Angelina caught her breath. Alec wanted children? With her? She had never thought of having children before—children weren’t compatible with the life she’d chosen for herself—and the sudden yearning for a child with Alec’s warm, brown eyes slammed into her from nowhere.

  All at once she remembered the look Queen Juliana had given her in the spring when the queen had been expecting her baby and Angelina had made some off-the-cuff remark about never having children of her own. At the time, she hadn’t understood the expression of...was it amusement on the queen’s face? Not exactly. More like her friend knew something Angelina didn’t know, and was humoring her by not saying anything. Not contradicting Angelina’s assertion that her life was perfect just as it was.

  Now she understood that expression, and the thoughts behind it. Now it made sense. Because the queen had known that because Angelina had never loved a man, she’d never had the chance to feel this way before. Hadn’t understood.

  She did now.

  She didn’t need children to complete her, just as she didn’t need a man to complete her. That wasn’t it at all. She hadn’t lied to Alec when she’d told him she’d been happy before he’d come along. Her life had been rewarding. Fulfilling. Enough to make her reasonably content. There were things she would have changed—Caterina, her parents—but not the lack of a man in her life.

  That is the key, she realized now—she hadn’t missed having a man in her life because she hadn’t known what she was missing. But now there was Alec, and everything was different, including her. Now the desire for Alec’s child rolled through her like an incoming tide. Inevitable. Not just any man’s child. Only Alec’s, because she loved him and wanted to give him the gift of immortality his child would bring...if he wanted it, too. And incredibly, it seemed, he did.

  She touched Alec’s face with a hand that didn’t tremble. “Yes,” she told him, sure in a way she didn’t stop to question.

  But Alec did. “Angel, are you sure? Your job—at some point you wouldn’t be able to continue doing it if you get pregnant. I know how much it means to you, and you’re already fighting prejudice here because you’re a woman. If you were pregnant, there’s no way they’d let you—”

  She placed her fingers over his lips, stopping his words. “At some point, I could no longer be a bodyguard anyway,” she told him firmly. “As we age, our reflexes slow. Our minds may stay sharp, but that split-second difference in reaction time could be critical to the person we are guarding. I accepted that a long time ago. I am twenty-nine. I told myself I would be a bodyguard only as long as I could stay in peak physical condition. Only that long and no longer. Then I would do something else. Yes, I love my job. But ten years from now...who knows if I will even make it that long?”

  She smiled at him. Not a tremulous smile. A smile that conveyed rock-solid assurance in what she was doing. “I have a law degree. Did I ever tell you that? I was a junior prosecutor, but not for long, because when the king ascended the throne, he threw open the gates to something I had long dreamed of but never thought to attain—service to my country in the Zakharian National Forces.

  “Then I was tapp
ed for the queen’s security detail. Dream followed dream, and my life was full. But I knew someday I would return to the law—that was always my long-term plan. I would still be serving my country as a prosecutor, and there would be great job satisfaction in bringing evildoers to justice.”

  She placed her hands around his face. “It will just be a little sooner than I originally planned, because now there is you, and the life I want to share with you. A life that includes your child.” Her eyes held his, willing him to understand, to believe. “Not just any man’s child, Alec. Yours. Can you understand the difference?”

  His eyes were suddenly damp, but he blinked the moisture away. “I can understand the difference,” he told her in the deep voice that never failed to move her. “Because I feel the same way.”

  Then he was holding her in a crushing embrace, an embrace she returned. Her heart was full—so full she couldn’t believe she was the same Angelina Mateja who three months ago had never known what love between a man and a woman could be. Who three months ago thought her life was complete. Who three months ago would have scorned to think she would ever give up what she had for something else. Something better. Far, far better. Not trading her job for Alec, but trading her life without him for a life with him.

  * * *

  Five days later, Aleksandrov Vishenko’s chief brigadier charged into Vishenko’s office and wasted no time. “She has been located, Pakhan.” He didn’t have to specify a name.

  Vishenko rose to his feet. “Where?” he demanded.

  “After she was spotted in Denver by the man who missed taking her out”—a man whose failure to kill Caterina Mateja had been a fatal mistake—“we concentrated our search efforts there. We have just learned a woman resembling her was arrested by immigration agents a week ago and taken to a detention facility outside Denver.”

  “A detention facility?” Vishenko frowned. “Can you get a man inside?”