Alec's Royal Assignment. Amelia Autin
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of an earlier assignment guarding Her Serene Highness, Princess Mara Theodora of Zakhar, before she became an American citizen—he certainly hadn’t been expecting this. He’d thought he’d be banished to the diplomatic equivalent of Siberia for a long time.
Instead, it was almost as if someone had pulled strings on his behalf to get him here, but that didn’t make sense. Alec didn’t have the political connections to make this happen, and it had been bugging him ever since the word came down where he was being assigned next.
He’d heard a rumor the king of Zakhar had specifically requested him, but that rumor was so fantastical he’d discounted it immediately. The king knew of him—how could he not, when Alec had been one of his sister’s bodyguards in the US?—but the king didn’t know him.
So the reason why he’d been tapped for this plum assignment was still a mystery to him...for all of ninety seconds. That was how long it took for Alec to exit Security and spot Trace McKinnon behind the barricade, waiting for him. And he began to smell a rat. A large, deadly rat who worked for Alec’s brother-in-law, Cody Walker, at the Denver branch of the ultrasecret “agency.” Who also happened to be married to Princess Mara. And suddenly the fantastical rumor didn’t seem so fantastical, after all.
“I should have known,” was all Alec said as he shook McKinnon’s hand.
“Hey, don’t look at me. I just volunteered to meet your flight, that’s all. If you want to thank anyone, thank my wife. She’s the one who asked her brother to intercede on your behalf.”
Alec’s smile morphed into a frown. “Wait a second. I don’t want anything I haven’t earned.”
Trace spared him a cynical glance as they walked toward Baggage Claim. “You know as well as I do that in the real world it’s not always what you know but who you know. But don’t think you didn’t earn this assignment. Not to mention, you did the right thing taking down those terrorists, no matter what anyone says.”
Alec shook his head. “Diplomatically—”
McKinnon uttered a pithy, four-letter word. “You’re alive. They’re not. Score one for the good guys.”
They arrived at the baggage carousel for Alec’s flight and stood there waiting for his checked luggage to appear. “So what are you doing in Zakhar? Don’t tell me you’re on assignment here.”
McKinnon shook his head. “No, Mara and I are here on family business. The king’s wife just had a baby, hadn’t you heard? You’d better believe it’s a big deal here in Zakhar—the birth of the crown prince, the continuation of a dynasty going back more than five hundred years. This country has been celebrating almost nonstop for a month. We’re here for the christening ceremony, along with a bevy of international dignitary invitees, including our very own secretary of state standing in for the president.” He grinned. “You can thank him in person for putting in a good word for you with your boss—Mara made sure you received an invitation to the christening.”
Startled, Alec said, “Thanks... I think. Speaking of babies, I hear congratulations are in order for you and the princess, too.”
McKinnon’s smile deepened into one of intense satisfaction. “Yeah, this summer. I didn’t plan on more than one at a time, but as Mara says, children can’t help being born—they have no choice in the matter. So we’re now the proud parents of twins, a boy and a girl.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
“It’s hectic,” was all McKinnon would say. But his grin told Alec he wouldn’t have it any other way.
* * *
Following the two from a distance, off-duty lieutenant Angelina Mateja tucked her short, blond hair behind one ear and commented softly to her companion in Zakharan, “So that is the new RSO at the US embassy. He is younger than I thought for such an important position.”
Captain Marek Zale smiled with amusement, turning his intense gaze toward her for a moment. “He is thirty-six. More than a year older than the king. Not so young.”
“He appears younger.” And more handsome than I expected, Angelina thought but didn’t say. As one of the first female officers in the Zakharian National Forces, she was extremely careful about what she said to Captain Zale or anyone else she worked with.
Zakhar was fifty years behind the times in many ways, especially regarding women. The Zakharian National Forces had only opened to women after King Andre Alexei had ascended the throne of Zakhar four and a half years earlier. The men she worked with were just waiting for some sign she wasn’t up to the job. Which meant she could never be anything less than the perfect professional officer.
Angelina towered over the petite queen she guarded so faithfully. Her five feet eleven inches without shoes made her nearly as tall as most of the men on the security detail. And her skill with weapons of all sorts—not to mention her skills without weapons—made her perfectly qualified for her assignment as one of the queen’s bodyguards.
She was a formidable adversary with a hard-as-nails reputation she’d worked diligently to earn. More than one man on the queen’s security detail had lost to her during hand-to-hand combat training exercises. She’d even taken down Captain Zale once, though that was probably more from surprise than anything else. She’d never managed to do it a second time, although she’d tried. Repeatedly.
Now, watching the American heft a suitcase off the baggage carousel, Angelina felt an unusual twinge of physical attraction, a jolt of sexual desire in her belly...and lower. It wasn’t something she usually felt. Wasn’t something she usually let herself feel. But there it was.
Auburn-haired Alec Jones wasn’t nearly as handsome as Princess Mara’s husband, Trace McKinnon, who was standing next to him. But he had a male attraction all his own, and was in superb fighting shape—something that appealed to Angelina on the most basic level. Even though he was covered with clothing, she could see the muscles that pulled his jacket taut across his broad shoulders.
She had an instant’s vision of him naked—honed to muscle, sinew and bone, much as she was—and wondered what it would be like to take him to her bed instead of the man she’d picked to rid her of her virginity at the age of twenty. Curiosity had been followed by disappointment nine years ago, but—Angelina’s blue-gray eyes gleamed momentarily—she didn’t think sex with this man would be disappointing. Far from it.
Just as quickly as the thought occurred to her she banished it, but not without regret. She’d long ago resolved that any kind of romantic involvement, not to mention sex, was incompatible with her job in the Zakharian National Forces. Especially given the patronizing attitude toward women held by most of the men in the rank and file as well as the officers. Sex with any man—even a non-Zakharian—was the last thing she should be thinking about. She wasn’t about to risk her reputation, or her job, for a man. No matter how sexy and irresistible he was.
* * *
Alec turned abruptly and spotted a woman across the airport watching him. Intently. She was tall, blonde and slender, with a touch-me-and-die air about her. He didn’t know why, but she pushed all his buttons without even trying, and he felt himself responding to her. Hard. Fast. He laughed under his breath and ordered his body to stand down. But he wasn’t surprised when his body refused to obey.
The woman and the man with her were both dressed in the kind of clothes he usually wore when on duty—what he was wearing now, actually—including a jacket to hide his shoulder holster. And there was something about them that seemed eerily familiar, something that reminded him of his own expression when he unexpectedly spotted himself in a mirror in public. A watchfulness in their eyes. An alertness in the way they held themselves, as if ready for anything. Bodyguards? he wondered. He glanced around but didn’t see anyone they might be guarding. Still...
“Five will get you ten, those two are bodyguards,” he murmured to McKinnon as they walked in the direction of the pair, not even needing to indicate to his friend