Personal Protection. Julie Miller

It is my pleasure to meet you.”

      She couldn’t help but smile at the way his natural geekiness softened his effusive charm. “Carly Valentine.” He looked like a shaggier, softer version of Ivan. His nose was straighter, his shoulders slightly less imposing. And so far, he seemed to be the friendliest Lukinburger she’d met. “The pleasure is mine.”

      So these were some of the suspects Ivan thought might betray him to the Lukin Loyalists who wanted to kill him. She’d need to run background checks and spend some time observing and conversing with all the delegation members to get a better read on who was trustworthy and who hated the prince enough to send a death threat.

      She made a mental note to make sure she carried a gun or Taser with her at all times. The security men were armed. Pavluk was built like a tank, and though Milevski was older and had more paunch, she suspected he would be equally hard to take down if she had to protect the prince from one of them. And geek didn’t necessarily mean defenseless, so she couldn’t count Aleks out as a threat, either.

      But investigating would have to wait. Sizing up her odds in a physical altercation slipped to the back of her mind, too, when Ivan moved to stand in front of her. With his back to the others, his blue eyes locked on to hers, sending a silent message of gratitude for her alone. Or no, that was a warning. Warning her about what?

      Her eyes widened as he dipped his face toward hers and kissed her. Not some fake air-kiss or polite European cheek-to-cheek greeting, either. His firm mouth pressed against the seam of her lips, warmed the spot with moist heat, lingered. His beard and mustache tickled, and she was curious enough about the texture of the dark spiky silk teasing the skin around her mouth that she lifted her free hand to stroke her fingertips across his jaw. The lines of his face were strong, unyielding. She discovered the firm ridge of a scar hidden near his ear when she stroked against the grain of his beard. From his time in the army? A previous attempt on his life?

      A blush of feminine interest in his controlled, masculine touch heated her skin as much as self-conscious embarrassment had warmed it earlier. Every instinct inside her wanted to push her mouth more fully against his. She wanted to part her lips and feel that ticklish heat on the tender skin inside. The kiss was easily the most potent she’d ever received, certainly the most unexpected. Ivan’s touch was mesmerizing, magical... Fake, Valentine! The kiss is fake.

      A pair of invisible fingers snapped beside her ear, waking her from the momentary spell she’d been under. She quickly curled her inquisitive fingers into the palm of her hand and stepped back. She needed a shower and some nice clothes and a seriously intense lesson in royal etiquette before anyone would believe the prince’s interest in her was real.

      “I will see you tomorrow,” he promised.

      “Right. Oh.” Before he turned, she pulled a card from the wallet behind her badge and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “That has all my numbers on it. If you need to call.”

      He laid his hand over his heart as if she’d given him a treasure. He looked to Brooke, who stood with one hand curved around her belly, the other clutching the back of her chair, as if she was too shocked by what she’d just seen to stand on her own. Ivan bowed his head. “Mrs. Kincaid. Thank you for your hospitality—and your discretion.”

      Brooke cleared her throat before she spoke. “Of course, sir. My pleasure.”

      “Captain Hendricks,” he acknowledged. Then Ivan bowed to Carly. “I look forward to our next meeting, дорогой.”

      There it was again. The foreign word rhymed with the frog boy. Only it sounded secretive, sensual, anything but insulting, in his deep, accented voice. She wished she had anything half as clever to say. “Me, too.”

      Ivan and his entourage left, closing the door behind them and heading past a dozen curious glances from the main room to the elevators before Carly released the breath she’d been holding and turned to Brooke. “Dorogoy. What’s that?”

      Brooke typed the word into her computer and pulled up a translation program. “Darling. Sweetheart. It’s an endearment.”

      An endearment. She should have guessed as much simply from the tone of his voice. Oh, he was good at this. Carly seriously needed to step up her game if they had any chance of making this undercover mission work. She also had to remember that the charm and kisses would be fake. She was no fairy-tale princess, and he wasn’t really her prince. But he was just shy enough of handsome to make him really interesting to look at. He treated her like a lady, even when she reeked of the streets. And he needed her. It was a potent combination guaranteed to turn her head.

      Right then and there she sent her heart a warning that she couldn’t have real feelings for Prince Ivan Mostek of Lukinburg. This was a job.

      Joe Hendricks’s gruff voice sent the same message. “Valentine, you’re done for the day. Process your perp and get out of here. Brooke? We need to arrange a leave of absence for Carly. Dismiss Rangel and Wardyn and meet me in my office.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      He went back into his office and Brooke grabbed a notepad and pen from her desk. She handed Carly her coat and stood there, searching for the right thing to say. “You’re going to explain this to me?”

      Of course, she was. Just as soon as she figured out what to say. “Ivan and I go way back. To my army days. I didn’t put it all together when you said Lukinburg earlier. I had no idea he was in town. In the country, even.” Rambling was never a convincing way to establish a solid cover story. She was supposed to be a better liar than this. “Meeting him...again...was definitely a surprise.”

      Brooke nodded, still looking confused. “For all of us.”

      She hated lying to her friend. Not that she didn’t trust Brooke completely. But orders were orders. The truth couldn’t leave Hendricks’s office. Still, she needed a friend who had some relationship experience right about now. “Do you have a place you go to get manis and pedis?”

      “Sure. I can get you the number.”

      “And where exactly does one purchase a ball gown?”

      Brooke frowned as if she’d spoken gibberish. “Why?”

      “Apparently, for the next week... I’m dating a prince.”