Ivan articulated every word and avoided contractions. He’d practiced that delivery, so his English would be clearly understood. His tone was less guttural than German, more articulate than Russian, deep in pitch and seductive like fancy poetry. She wondered what that voice sounded like in his native language, whatever language a Lukinburger spoke. Lukinburger? The urge to laugh tickled her thoughts. That made her think of a hamburger. And this guy was nothing but prime steak.
“You find something amusing, Miss Valentine?”
That tone was a little less mesmerizing and a little more His Imperial Majesty, and she shook off the inappropriate detour of her thoughts. “Uh, no. No, sir. But I saw your geeky science guy and bodyguards on the elevator. That’s not security enough?”
“Geeky science guy?” He repeated the phrase, a question in his eyes. Right. Language barrier.
“You know, nerdy? Thick glasses? Needs a haircut? I bet if he trimmed that mountain man beard and got the bangs out of his eyes, he’d clean up as good as you.”
“I assure you he has showered.”
He hadn’t understood the slang she’d used. “Clean up as in he’d be attractive if he, you know, took care of himself a little more. Like you.” The blue eyes narrowed. Great. She’d just admitted she thought the prince was attractive. Or had she just insulted his friend? “No offense. Clearly, the guy’s a charmer. Making a woman laugh is a good thing.” Heat crept into her cheeks again. “I’m rambling again. I’m a little self-conscious right now. I don’t know the etiquette...am I allowed to have a regular conversation with you?”
“No matter the etiquette, it has not stopped you yet.”
Her blush intensified. “Sorry.”
“Do not apologize. You are very observant, Officer Valentine. A good soldier should be. I understand that you served in the military before joining the police force?”
“That’s right. Army National Guard. That’s how I paid my way through school.”
“I, too, served in the army of my country. I admire that sense of duty.” His compliment altered the heat she felt into a bud of self-confidence. As he went on, steering the conversation toward work further distracted her from her embarrassment. “The man in the hallway is my friend, Aleksandr Petrovic. He is a trusted adviser to me. He has, as you Americans say, a nose for business.”
“You mean a head for business? It’s a nose for news, a head for business,” she pointed out. When his eyes narrowed, she pressed her fingers against her lips and apologized, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t interrupt.”
“No. I must use your language correctly.” His fingers spanned her wrist, pulling her hand away from her mouth. The light touch sent tendrils of warmth skittering beneath her skin before he released her. She was just as sensitive to the calluses on his manicured fingers, and surprising strength of his hand that she’d associate more with a working man like her father and brothers than a fairy-tale prince. But the charm was certainly there as he bowed his head to her again. “Thank you for the correction.”
“You’re welcome. You were saying?” Man, was she blowing it in the public relations department. “Your Highness?”
“Ivan will do fine when we are in private like this.”
She was supposed to call a prince by his first name? In what universe? Had she taken a harder hit to the head from Dougie than she realized?
“Just as with our embassies in Washington and now Kansas City, we are coordinating with the Department of State and local law enforcement to ensure that our visit here is a safe one—both for ourselves and for your people. Your captain is indulging a personal request while my chief of royal security and his team are meeting with others in your department.”
“That makes sense.” Carly turned to Captain Hendricks again. “Are you looking for volunteers to work extra duty shifts?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what? Why the private meeting?”
Prince Ivan touched the arm of her chair to recapture her attention. “I need a personal bodyguard. An American who can assist with my understanding of local idioms, someone who knows the city and can provide security specifically for me while I am here.”
“You mean a liaison officer between your men and KCPD?”
The men exchanged a look. This time she bit down on the urge to keep talking and waited for one of them to explain why she was here.
Captain Hendricks steepled his fingers together on top of his desk. “The prince believes there is someone inside his delegation who is feeding intel to the dissidents who tried to kill him in Lukinburg. He doesn’t know who it is. He’s not sure who he can trust.”
Carly nodded as understanding dawned. “You’re looking for an outsider. Someone who isn’t a part of your inner circle.” The captain and the prince were looking for a cop who could convincingly portray a member of his security team. Maybe a reporter covering his visit. Or even waitstaff or a maid at their hotel. “You want me to sniff around, see if I can find out anything. I can probably get in and out of your functions without drawing any attention to myself. I’m pretty good at blending in.”
“You misunderstand. I want you to be my escort at those functions.”
Carly realized her jaw was hanging open, and quickly snapped it shut. “What?”
“His girlfriend,” the captain clarified. “He’s looking for a female police officer who can be his date at public events. The cover story is that he has an old friend who works at KCPD, someone he met during a military training exercise, and a romance blossomed. His trip to the States has reunited you. She’ll provide a level of security no one will question. Someone who can be seen with him, or even stay the night in his hotel room without anyone questioning why you’re there.”
“Undercover girlfriend? Stay the night?” She snorted a laugh when she heard what the captain was proposing. Then she saw the look in his dark eyes and stopped abruptly. “You’re serious? No. No, sir. Do you see what I’m wearing? Do you see how I look?” She pointed to the bull pen. “I’m in the middle of another case. Emily or Detective Wardyn or any other number of female officers would be a better candidate for that kind of assignment than I would.”
“Valentine—there were two attempts on the prince’s life in Lukinburg.”
“The last one was three months ago,” the prince added. “I have fresh scars from that explosion. Seven people, including a member of the Royal Guard and the bomber himself were killed that day. I felt that coming to Kansas City would ensure the safety of my delegation, and of your people. By distancing myself from the threat.”
Scars? Seven dead? Her panic ebbed at the sobering news. “They tried to kill you?”
“Twice. The bullet missed. The bomb did not.”
“And the threat followed you here to the US.”
“I believe so.” He pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to her.
“You dusted this for prints?”
“There are none,” Ivan answered. “At least, not according to my chief of security, Filip Milevski.”
“One of the guys you’re not sure you can trust?”
“It appeared in my attaché case on the plane during the flight. I do not recall seeing it there when I left St. Feodor.”
With a nod from both the prince and Captain Hendricks, Carly unfolded the typewritten note.
Prince Ivan. The false prince.
We won’t let you sell our country to the Americans.