The security chief had informed Nicholas of the security breach, and Tashya had begged her brother not to rush over. He needed to spend time with his new bride, and there was nothing he could do here.
Hunter and Tashya skirted the blackened mosaic tiles, giving him the opportunity to casually observe the security chief’s team in action. He couldn’t fault the work in progress. The forensics team methodically collected the bomb’s tiniest pieces with tweezers, then labeled and stored them. One member photographed the damage from every angle while another recorded the scene on videotape.
After they passed the team and moved deeper into Alex’s suite, the destruction seemed minimal. A few pictures hung on the walls at odd angles, magazines had blown across the floor and one lamp had fallen.
A quick check of the exterior of Hunter’s “luggage” showed no damage. Pleased that his mission hadn’t been compromised, Hunter’s attention returned to Tashya.
She ambled through the rooms, her head held high, looking every inch a royal, but he knew the pretense cost her. He doubted she’d even stopped trembling; however, all but the keenest of observers would never know it.
Even though none of the security team appeared to have gone this deep into the suite, he didn’t dare speak. Next thing on his agenda had to be mastering Alex’s voice, modulation and accent.
Tashya headed straight for the bedroom and the safe. Hunter realized her worry about giving him a reason to return had been for naught. No one questioned the prince and princess. Yet, experience told him it was always better to have a story prepared.
Tashya stopped shy of the bedroom door. Hunter had noticed her hesitancy to join him there earlier, no doubt for propriety’s sake. But even if he were so inclined, he would hardly make a move on her with palace security freely wandering around.
“I thought I heard a woman’s voice.”
In Alex’s bedroom? He placed a hand inside his pocket where he’d hidden his gun. With his free hand he jerked his thumb at the door.
Tashya nodded and waited to let him make the decision here. He leaned close and whispered, “Could be more palace security.”
“There are no females in palace security.”
He hoped one of Alex’s paramours hadn’t sneaked into the bedroom. Lovers noticed details that other people didn’t.
He considered backing away and sending in security, but he needed to act as Alex would, and from what Tashya had told him, the prince would probably welcome a visitor, although maybe not even he would pull out the Welcome mat under these circumstances. If he entered the bedroom, he’d have preferred to do so with his weapon drawn—but again, Alex would never do so.
So Hunter settled for keeping his hand in his pocket. Motioning Tashya back, he opened the door. A slender woman with pale skin and worried brown eyes stood next to a man wearing a uniform that indicated he was in the Vashmiran military.
“Sophia, what are you and Stephan doing here?” Tashya asked.
Hunter already knew that Sophia was Tashya’s stepmother. Now a widow, she lived in the palace with her three sons—sons who would inherit the throne if anything happened to Nicholas, Alexander and Tashya, which put her at the top of his list of suspects. She had motive, plus she had free access to the palace and plenty of opportunity to sneak bombs into flower vases.
Tashya had been smart to identify the strangers in an innocent way. Hunter had also picked up from the way she said the man’s name that she didn’t like him. In another lifetime, she might have made a terrific operative.
“Have you seen Dimitri and Nikita?” Sophia asked, her tone worried.
Dimitri and Nikita were her sons and at five and three years old, too young to be considered suspects.
Tashya sighed. “Are they roaming again?”
“I’m afraid so. With their propensity for turning up wherever trouble arises, I came here first. Thank goodness they aren’t here.”
Tashya sighed. “I think we need to assign the boys guards who know more about children.” The princess’s eyes turned to Stephan.
“The major insisted on accompanying me.”
“Madame shouldn’t be alone at a time like this,” the major said.
Major Stephan Cheslav had curly chestnut hair, a neat mustache one shade lighter and skin so pale Hunter wondered if he ever went outside. He spoke with a Slavic accent, and the gleam in his eyes revealed his interest in Sophia. If Hunter were to believe the byplay, they didn’t know one another well—however he never assumed the obvious to be true.
Stephan smiled at Sophia. “I feared the bomb’s damage might be worse than it was. It could have been dangerous—”
“You were correct to accompany her,” Tashya told him, albeit reluctantly. “What I don’t understand is how the boys could have sneaked in here past the guards. All the secret tunnels have been closed.”
Sophia spoke softly. “They like to hide in the laundry carts. And they are especially good at climbing under the furniture and behind the draperies.”
Hunter was aware that the children had recently discovered secret passageways in the palace, but King Nicholas had ordered them sealed. Hunter, too, wanted to know if Sophia really thought the children could have entered Alex’s private apartment. Was she simply using that as an excuse to be here since she’d been caught where she had no right to be?
“I think Dimitri knows the entrance code to the apartment,” Sophia said. “I’m sorry, Alex. Perhaps you should have Ira change them again, but I know how much you hate memorizing the new ones.”
Hunter nodded and touched his throat. He mouthed, It’s okay, but didn’t speak the words.
Neither Sophia nor Stephan seemed the least bit suspicious about his identity. Good.
A few minutes later Sophia and Stephan exited the room, Sophia telling him to rest and get well soon and promising to let them know when she found the boys. Tashya closed the door behind them.
“That was odd,” Hunter said softly.
“What?”
“Finding Sophia and Stephan in this room.”
Tashya almost grinned. Her natural healthy color was back, making her eyes sparkle. “You won’t think Sophia’s behavior’s so odd after you meet my little brothers.”
“Yeah, but I find it hard to believe Dimitri knows the security code. He’s only five, right?”
“Five years old and going on twenty.” She shrugged. “Alexander may have given him the code. Or he may have simply been careless and let Dimitri watch him enter it one too many times.”
“But Sophia just walked right into the suite without even asking permission.”
“She knows Alex wouldn’t mind. And she had to be terrified that at the same time a bomb went off the boys are missing. I don’t find her behavior all that strange. However, Major Stephan Cheslav is another matter.”
“Why don’t you like him?”
Tashya shrugged. “It’s nothing I can put my finger on. He’s a little too ambitious for my taste.”
“Do Sophia and Stephan know one another well?”
“I doubt it. She probably just bumped into him on her search, and he escorted her here out of fear for her safety.”
“Maybe. But why was the bedroom door shut?” Hunter asked.
This time, she paused, eyeing him with something very akin to aggravation. “Dimitri and Nikita might hide under a bed…or behind a door.”
Before he said another word, the intercom beeped. Tashya walked over and flipped the switch. “Yes?”
“Nicholas has Dimitri and Nikita in the stable,” Ira’s voice came in clearly over the speaker. “Apparently there was a simple mixup in communications between their nanny and their mother. Sophia said you wanted to know they were okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, one more thing. Our deceased flower deliverer’s name was Hans Schultz. He’s from Sophia’s hometown.”
Chapter Four
Three days later palace carpenters had repaired the prince’s foyer, and Hunter had proc
laimed his readiness to impersonate Alexander in public. Dressed in her brother’s charcoal uniform, which had required only minor alterations, he looked every inch the royal prince. Although Tashya had been with Hunter almost every step of the way during his transformation, she still found the results remarkable.
After hour upon hour of practice, Hunter could modulate his voice to match her brother’s, mimic his accent and had even committed to memory Alexander’s pet phrases. When his voice was tired from talking, he’d memorized from pictures the faces and names of the palace staff, Nicholas’s cabinet and Alex’s former lady friends. However, there was no way Tashya could inform Hunter about her brother’s intimate memories and attitudes concerning every person he knew.
Tashya couldn’t tell him what she didn’t know about Alex’s private life. Hunter didn’t seem concerned over these unavoidable gaps; yet, one wrong statement of agreement or denial would give away the ruse. Her stomach fluttered like a foal’s on its first walk out of the birthing stall. She didn’t know whether or not to be pleased by Hunter’s stupendous progress or to damn his incredible confidence for believing he could pull this off. But if he failed, it wouldn’t be due to lack of hard work and diligence. Hunter had the capacity to work almost ’round the clock. While he claimed he didn’t have a photographic memory, he never seemed to forget anything, from the name of his valet’s dog to Alex’s favorite rum raisin ice cream. Now they were about to test him, and she’d probably forgotten to mention hundreds of relevant details.
After so many relentless hours of coaching him, her body had demanded sleep, but Hunter had stayed awake studying the palace blueprints and Vashmira’s geography, including its cities and streets. He’d gone through Alex’s credit card statements and the palace guest registry to learn about visiting merchants and the stores where the prince’s purchases had been made. He studied the phone records and absorbed each telephone number and to whom it belonged. But what had they missed?
She felt like twisting her hands but forced her fingers to remain still. Revealing her own nerves would only hamper his efforts. Besides, long ago she’d learned that if she wanted to be treated with respect, and not as some spoiled princess, she mustn’t reveal any weakness. As Zared’s only female child, she’d often pretended to an outward calm, acting as strong as her brothers. Even if she quaked inside, she would maintain her poise.
Tashya reached up to straighten Hunter’s collar, a service she’d often performed for her brother. But with Alex, the gesture had never seemed so intimate, and after smoothing flat the edges, she stepped back quickly.
“Hunter, if you don’t feel ready for the ball, we could claim that Alex is still sick.”
“I’m ready and so are you.”
He patted her shoulder just like Alexander did, smiled at her with just the right amount of teeth showing, stared at her out of eyes the exact same blue as her brother’s, and with Alex’s spicy cologne, he even smelled like him. So why was she so aware of Hunter Leigh? Why couldn’t she keep her feelings toward him sisterly?
Just because he looked handsome as sin, just because his eyes seemed to cling to hers a bit longer than necessary, just because her pulse leapt for no apparent reason did not mean that anything special was between them.
She sighed. Maybe if she kept lying to herself she might believe it. For the past few days they’d eaten every meal together, spent hour after hour conversing about Vashmira’s economy, history and culture. They’d discussed Alex’s mannerisms, from how he flirted with women to the way he chewed broccoli.
No one could keep up their guard under such circumstances. His constant proximity had taken a toll on her normal barriers. In a short time, Hunter had gained her utmost respect. Now she was worried that he would succeed in this mission and set himself up as a target.
Although she’d lived most of her life with the knowledge that the assassination of royalty was always a possibility, he had no idea what it was like always to be on guard, always be wary of strangers. When she was a child, her parents had depended on palace security to dog her footsteps to and from the backyard sandbox. By the time of her first date, she’d learned to live with the fact that she could be targeted by terrorists or political extremists. However, she had never chosen to be a target. Hunter had voluntarily accepted this mission.
Before meeting him, she would have thought that anyone who so willingly risked his life would be cold and filled with macho bravado. Yet Hunter never behaved as though he thought of himself as James Bond. He didn’t rely on gadgets or physical strength as much as he depended on his best weapon—his intelligence. He prepared as if success might hinge on the tiniest detail. And he was warm—not just to the touch, but inside where it counted.
One night she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, and she’d wakened to discover that he’d tucked a blanket around her. After that, he made sure she got more rest. He’d never once made one move in her direction, and she found that she almost wanted him to.
Almost. There was no point in allowing herself to become involved with a man with a career like Hunter’s. He’d be here for a week or two and then be sent back to South America or the Far East or wherever his job took him next. Her practical side told her that any deep involvement with Hunter could only hurt her, since there was no possible future for them. Yet, her sensual side wanted…she didn’t know what she wanted.
Now, about to accompany him to the ball, she had to remember to treat him like a brother. With him looking so much like Alex, it shouldn’t be difficult. She was determined that, if his impersonation failed, it would not be due to any slipup on her part.
When he slid a lethal-looking derringer into his coat pocket and checked the mirror for bulges, she bit back a protest. Although Alex would never carry a weapon, Hunter had the right to defend himself.
“How do I look?” he asked her, and she knew he wasn’t fishing for a compliment but requesting confirmation that he’d mimicked Alexander in every possible detail.
“You’re perfect.” She gestured to his pocket and the gun. “But you’ll set off the metal detectors.”
He flipped open a large velvet box and removed a heavy gold chain that had been in the family when they were still members of the Russian nobility. “Nicholas has already thought of that. He says this little ornament sets off the metal detectors every time and that the palace guards won’t even give the alarm a second thought, never mind search me.”
“If they did search you, what else would they find?” she asked curiously.
“The usual.”
She arched an eyebrow, testing him, wondering if he’d mention the dagger he’d shoved up his sleeve. “The usual?”
“Three guns. One in my pocket, one holstered under my arm, a third strapped to my ankle. Then there’s the knife up my sleeve, a garrote, two—” He must have seen that his words disturbed her. “And my cereal box decoder ring,” he teased.
“How can you joke about—”
“Protecting your life, Princess?” He reminded her of the reason he was here.
“I told you not to call me that.”
“We aren’t in public yet,” he argued. Then he turned and gallantly offered her his arm. “Have I told you how lovely you look this evening?”
She wasn’t about to let him charm her out of her nerves. She could suppress them herself when necessary, when in public. “Have you also noticed how many doubts I have that you can pull this off?”
“Relax.” He picked up her hand, placed it on his arm and winked at her. “I told you, I’m good at deception. Wait until you see me in action.”
“But we can’t have anticipated every contingency. Suppose we meet someone who knows Alex, and we don’t know who he or she might be? We’ve gone over the guest list but visitors are allowed to bring a date. Or suppose you don’t recognize someone from their picture? Suppose someone asks you a question, and you respond differently than Alex would?”
Hunter laughed and urged her from the suite. “That’s what mak
es my job so much fun.”
“YOU THINK YOUR job is fun?” Tashya’s eyes brimmed with merriment, perhaps a little forced, but she had an inner strength that she could call on to cope with her doubts. Hunter was glad she’d banished the shadows he’d seen there earlier. She was worrying entirely too much. Trying to hide her feelings probably only added to her unease.
She squeezed his arm lightly. “Your life is never going to seem as pleasurable after you’ve become accustomed to being a prince.”
“Just don’t forget who I am,” he warned softly, right before he swept her out the door of Alex’s suite.
Two palace guards fell into step behind them. He thought the security might cause her to tense, but then realized that she expected them to be around her.
So far, he’d tried to immerse himself deeply enough into the role of her brother to react to her as if she were really his sister. Unfortunately she’d worn some stunning red number that hugged her curves and made his mouth water. Hunter didn’t allow himself to think about women while he was on a mission. He wasn’t a monk, usually relaxing between assignments with career women who didn’t want to be tied down with a permanent relationship. He hadn’t been serious with anyone since college, and while normally he prided himself on keeping his thoughts in character, he’d have to allow himself a little leeway. She wore her hair swept onto her head in a fancy knot, tendrils framing her expressive face, diamonds scattered in her shiny dark hair.
He told himself he was preparing for the grilling his sisters would give him when he got back home. While he could never reveal his missions to his family, he could eventually recount his appearance at this ball. His real sisters would want all the details. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was enjoying the job of accompanying and protecting the princess.
However, all he now seemed able to focus on clearly was her face. She wore makeup that emphasized her blue eyes and high cheekbones. Her full lips, taunting him with a glossy red lipstick, begged to be kissed. But it was the graceful arch of her neck that had him thinking very unbrotherly thoughts. Thoughts of nipping his way up her neck to her ear. Thoughts of kissing his way down to her collarbone. Thoughts of claiming that glossy red mouth.
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