by Amelia Autin
He could put off telling her for months, maybe even a year, until he was forced to tell her. Until the DSS transferred him someplace else. But he just couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t pretend everything was fine. Angelina deserved better. She deserved to know now that they had no future. That for them there was no forever and a day. But he knew once he told her, her smile would fade. The light would go out of her eyes. And the light would go out of his world.
She’d understand. That was the damnable thing. She’d understand when he told her he couldn’t resign from the DSS because he needed to continue the fight for all the Cates out there. Just as she’d understand when he told her children weren’t an option—not for him. Not for them. Not under the circumstances.
You’re afraid to tell her. Just admit it.
Yeah, he was. Because he’d rather cut off his right hand—his shooting hand—than break her heart. But he had to tell her. He’d put it off long enough. And no matter what she decided—even if she chose to go with him when he was reassigned—their life together would never be the same. It couldn’t be.
* * *
Angelina stared at Alec in the soft, wintry moonlight. They’d walked after dinner, as they usually did. But instead of walking by the river, this time he’d shepherded her to this little park not far from her apartment. Then he’d sat her down on a park bench and told her.
Her world was crumbling, but the manners she’d had drummed into her since she was a little girl said a lady never made a scene. A lady was always circumspect, always in control of her emotions, no matter what.
“Say something, Angel.” The hard edge to Alec’s voice steadied her.
“What is there to say?” she said, fiercely glad her voice didn’t tremble. “You have made your decision without consulting me.”
His lips tightened. “I don’t have a choice, damn it!”
She forced a smile. “There is always a choice.” She tucked her hair behind one ear, struggling to hold back the chaos of emotions bubbling inside her. “I understand,” she said when she finally had herself under control. “You would not be the man I lo—” she chopped off what she’d started to say and replaced it with “—the man you are if you could choose otherwise.”
“You don’t understand,” he said with desperation. “I can’t resign. I thought I could—I was even making plans about what I could do for a living instead—but I can’t. Not even for you, Angel. My job is who I am. Just as your job is who you are.”
His breath made a white cloud in the cold air. “I know you said you’d give it up for me. To build a life with me when the time came. But we’re not just talking going to your fallback career in the law. You know that. Eventually I’d be transferred. How can I ask you to sacrifice everything? Your job? Your home? Your country? Yes, you love me. But do you love me that much? To give up everything?”
“We will never know, will we?” she asked softly. “You did not ask me.”
“Angel—”
“No,” she said, cutting him off. “You did not ask me.” She stood, calmly rewrapped her scarf securely around her throat and walked away, her head held high.
* * *
She walked for miles. Dazed, bewildered and bereft, she huddled inside the warmth of her coat, but the chill in the air was nothing compared to the ice embedded in her heart.
Alec loved her, but not enough. Not enough to sacrifice his career. That was all she could think of as she eventually found herself at the river and made her way along the river’s edge. We jogged here, she remembered when she came to a bend in the river. This was where she’d taken him by surprise and thrown him to the ground. Where he’d turned the tables on her so neatly. Where he’d kissed her for the first time. You wanted him to kiss you, she acknowledged. You wanted him then, just as you want him now.
She’d been drawn to Alec from the beginning. Why? she asked herself now. Why Alec, and no other man?
Because he understood her. Understood what motivated her. And loved those things in her she’d never believed a man could love in her. He loved those things in her because he was the same way. And she loved him for the same reasons he loved her. Because he could sacrifice what he wanted, what would make him happy, for a higher purpose.
Honor. Duty. Loyalty. Sacrifice.
Words that meant everything to them.
A quotation came to her from out of the blue, a line from a seventeenth-century poem by Richard Lovelace. “I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I not honor more.”
A memory clicked into her mind suddenly, her telling Alec in the safe house, “...men have been doing things like this to women for thousands of years and will continue to do so until good men—men like you—stand up and say, ‘This stops here!’”
And Alec’s heartfelt vow, “I promise you, Angel, this stops here.”
She realized then that was exactly why Alec had made the choice he’d made. Because being the honorable man he was, he couldn’t refuse to answer the call of duty. He couldn’t not do whatever he could to make the world a better place, no matter the personal cost.
And he couldn’t ask her to sacrifice everything for him. Not because he didn’t love her enough, but because he did.
The question was, did she love him enough? Did she understand? Truly understand?
* * *
Alec stood watching the snow falling in a soft cloud outside his embassy office window and remembered how together, he and Angelina had confronted one of Vishenko’s henchmen in the Denver snowstorm. They hadn’t even had to discuss what to do; they’d operated on the same wavelength as only a team could before moving on to the real safe house where Cate had been taken.
Cate and all the women like her were counting on Alec to do everything in his power to stop men like Vishenko. How could he let those women down?
But at the same time he remembered the devastated expression in Angelina’s eyes a week ago as she said, “You did not ask me.” She’d tried to hide it from him, but he could read her. And though he’d never doubted himself before, never questioned his decisions, now he wondered, Should he have asked her?
The buzzer sounded and Alec moved to his desk to answer it. “Yes, Tahra?”
“If you don’t leave shortly, sir, you’ll be late for your appointment with the king.” He glanced at the clock on his desk and realized Tahra was right as usual. “I already ordered one of the embassy limos,” she continued. “It should be waiting downstairs for you in five minutes.”
“Thanks. I’ll head down in a minute.” He clicked off the speakerphone, but his hand stayed poised over the phone for a moment as he considered calling Angelina’s cell. Then he discarded that as a bad idea. She was working, and what would he say, anyway? That he’d been wrong not to ask her to sacrifice her world for him? That he’d been wrong not to sacrifice his honor for her?
As he rode down in the elevator, Alec wondered what this meeting with the king was all about. It couldn’t be related to the progress in the trafficking case—Alec and the ambassador had met with the king and his advisers the day before yesterday in their weekly status meeting. So it had to be something else. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of a reason for the unexpected phone call he’d received that morning from the king’s appointments secretary, asking for this meeting. But as an embassy diplomat, he could never refuse an invitation from a head of state.
* * *
Alec met King Andre Alexei IV in his private office, not one of the conference rooms they usually met in. He was politely shown into the large, airy room, and when the king rose to meet him, both the footman and the king’s bodyguard left them alone, something that had obviously been prearranged.
“Thank you for coming, Special Agent Jones,” the king began when they were both seated, but then he shook his head. “Need we be so formal? My sister calls you Alec. May I?”
“Please do, sir.”
The king smiled. “I am Andre to my friends, Alec. And I have a feeling we are going to become friends.”
“Sir?” Alec hadn’t been expecting this. Yes, they were close in age—the king was only a year or so younger than he was. But...he was a king. Not Alec’s king, but still. A king. A sovereign ruler of a sovereign nation. Even though the United States and its citizens were egalitarian, Alec had been trained in diplomacy. But nothing in his training had covered a situation like this.
“Assuming you are agreeable to a suggestion I will be making to you today,” the king clarified, “we will be seeing a lot of each other over the coming years. My sister speaks very highly of you, Alec, as does her husband—both hold you in affection as well as esteem. You might already know I value their opinions.”
Slight understatement, Alec thought wryly, especially where Princess Mara is concerned, although he didn’t share that with the king.
“And then, of course,” the king continued without a pause, “there is what you have accomplished in such a relatively short time. All these things speak to your character. I would welcome the opportunity to add you to my small circle of friends.”
Alec drew a deep breath. “I would be honored, sir.”
“Andre,” the king insisted. “At least when we are in private.”
It went against his training, but Alec repeated, “Andre.”
The king laughed. “There, that was not so difficult, was it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now to the issue at hand. If you have not already received a commendation from your superiors for a job well done, you will. I have formally expressed Zakhar’s sincere thanks in a letter to your president, a copy of which I have here.” He picked up an envelope embellished with the state seal of Zakhar, and handed it to Alec. “It thanks the United States—in particular you and Trace McKinnon— for rooting out the corruption in the US embassy in Drago, and for bringing an end to the human-trafficking ring operating between our countries. Above and beyond the call of duty. I believe those were the words I used to describe your actions, but you can read the letter yourself when you are alone.”
“Thank you, si—Andre,” Alec corrected himself quickly. “But I really don’t think I went above and beyond. I did what I had to do, that’s all. That’s all any man can do.”
The king merely smiled. “So,” he said pleasantly, “where do you go from here? I understand you have been posted all over the world. Other than your own country—and I truly believe every man loves his own country best—is there anyplace you have been posted that particularly appeals to you?”
“Not to sound as if I’m—” sucking up is what he’d been about to say, but he decided it really wasn’t appropriate “—trying to flatter you,” he settled for. “But Zakhar is far and away the most beautiful, the most peaceful place I’ve lived in the past eighteen years, except my home in Colorado. Recent events notwithstanding.”
The king’s eyes gleamed. “So you could see yourself living here...indefinitely?”
“When I first found out I was being posted to Zakhar, I thought I was being rewarded for something, and I still feel that way.” He chuckled. “Your sister told me one of the reasons she loves Colorado is that it reminds her of Zakhar. I’m just the reverse. I love Zakhar partly because the mountains here remind me of the Colorado Rockies. So it won’t be a hardship to stay here until my next transfer.”
“Ah, yes,” the king said. “About that...let me ask you a question, Alec. And before you answer, I would like you to consider everything very carefully.” He steepled his fingers and held them to his lips for a moment, as if he wanted to choose his words wisely.
“Given your stellar accomplishments here, I would not be surprised if a promotion were offered you sometime in the next twelve months. You could accept that promotion, accept relocation to someplace else in the world. Your performance in your new location could easily lead to another promotion a few years down the road. That would not surprise me, either. You have intrinsic leadership qualities, qualities that cannot be taught. They must come from within.”
Slightly embarrassed, Alec felt compelled to say, “Thank you.”
“As I said, you could accept that next promotion, and put in motion a chain of events, the ultimate outcome of which cannot be predicted. Or,” he said, his voice dropping a notch, “you can accept your government’s appointment as the RSO here for the remainder of your career. Until you retire in the normal course of things.”
When Alec just stared at him, the king said, “I have already broached the possibility with the president of the United States. I have offered in exchange unrestricted use of the missile bases your government has here for a reduced fee, for as long as you are the RSO.”
“What?” Probably not the most diplomatic of responses, but Alec was too stunned to say anything else.
“Nothing has been formalized, you understand,” the king was quick to point out. “Nothing can be unless you give your assent to the agreement. But your president seemed...amenable.” The king smiled as if he couldn’t help it. “Eager is perhaps a better word. He is sure a deal can be worked out that will be mutually beneficial to all parties concerned.”
The first thing Alec thought of was Angelina. Of how his staying in Zakhar permanently would affect the two of them. He’d never be reassigned, and he wouldn’t have to sacrifice his honor to stay here. He would still be able to keep the vow he’d made to Angelina and to himself—this stops here.
He could author a case study based on his experience at the US embassy in Drago, pointing out the danger signs for other embassies to watch for—not just US embassies but those of their allies, as well—and how to prevent what had happened here from happening anywhere else. He could be a guest lecturer—not just at the DSS training center in DC, but everywhere women were at risk.
And he could be an advocate within the DSS for a stronger focus on fighting human trafficking, not just in Zakhar, but around the world.
Then there were the children he’d reluctantly acknowledged he would never have—could never have—because he could never allow himself to be an absentee father. Now he wouldn’t be. Now children were back in the realm of possibility. Children Angelina wanted as much as he did.
“What do you get out of this?” Alec asked abruptly, needing a moment to consider this incredible offer. To figure out exactly what it meant for everyone concerned, not just for him. And why it was being offered. “What’s in it for you? For Zakhar?”
The king smiled his faint smile. “Zakhar gets an incorruptible man at the US embassy. And after the two previous RSOs—corrupt men who made possible a terrible crime against the women of Zakhar—that is not a small thing.”
Alec wasn’t convinced. “That’s not good enough, sir,” he said, automatically using the more formal designation rather than the king’s given name. The king raised his chin and his eyes narrowed, as if he was being accused of lying. “I’m sorry, sir. That explanation might be true, but it doesn’t cover something of this magnitude. You’d be signing away treaty rights indefinitely. And I need to know why.” He hurried to add, “You must know if I accept this offer, I couldn’t owe you anything for it. I couldn’t accept it under those conditions. My loyalty can’t be bought, and it can’t be divided.”
The smile that had disappeared from the king’s face when Alec told him his explanation wasn’t good enough returned. “Loyalty that can be bought is worth no more than a wife who can be bought,” he said in a soft, meaningful voice. “No, Alec, I am not trying to buy your loyalty. I am merely trying to repay my debt. Oh, not to you,” he clarified when Alec started to speak. “To Lieutenant Mateja.”
Alec wasn’t surprised the king knew about their relationship, given what Captain Zale had told him regarding Zakhar’s secret intelligence service. But he was surprised the king knew the de
pth of their attachment. “How did you—” he began, but then stopped short.
“How did I know?” The king picked up a letter from the center of his desk and handed it to Alec. “Because of this.”
Alec skimmed the few sentences, then shook his head in disbelief and began reading it again. Then read it a third time, his thoughts in turmoil.
“Lieutenant Mateja resigned her commission yesterday,” the king told him. “I take it you were unaware she intended to do so?”
Alec shook his head, still in shock. “I had no idea.” His Angel had resigned her commission for him. He hadn’t asked her, couldn’t have brought himself to ask her. But she’d done it anyway. Because she loved him enough to sacrifice everything for him. Because she understood—really understood—the sacrifice of his own happiness he was willing to make to be a force for good in the world.
“She gave that letter to her captain, who turned it over to Colonel Marianescu,” the king continued. “My cousin called her in to discuss it at length, and pried the full story out of her. Then he came to see me.”
“I don’t under—”
“I owe Lieutenant Mateja a debt that can never be repaid with money,” the king explained. “And not with honors, a promotion or anything of that nature. She saved the life of my son. Priceless. I would sacrifice my own life for him, but she made that unnecessary. If I can give her the one thing she cannot give herself without tremendous sacrifice—a life with the man she loves—then I will have repaid her for what she has done for the queen and me.”
