The Makeover Mission (10 page)

"Ah, Major," Tarkioff hailed him as he looked up.
"Come in. I think we have much to discuss."

Since McConneghy agreed and knew the room had already been swept
for listening devices by his men, he didn't hesitate to speak his mind once he
closed the door.

"You should never have authorized the abduction of Miss
Richards," he spoke bluntly, knowing the best way to deal with the man
before him was head-on. Tarkioff listened to little else. "Or at the least
you should have allowed me to handle it differently."

"You were moving too slowly." The king waved away
objections like fireflies in the night.

"We are asking her to risk her life." He'd moved far
enough into the room to splay his hands across the highly polished surface of
the desk. "You might have given her a choice."

"And if she had said no?" Tarkioff rolled an unlit cigar
between his stocky fingers. "You and I both know there is too much at
stake to have allowed that."

"I could have persuaded her." At the other man's look,
he added, "A willing individual is much easier to work with than an
unwilling one."

"I still think you can use your powers of persuasion,"
came the casual reply as Tarkioff continued to study his cigar, rolling it back
and forth. One eyebrow arched.

"We're not talking about a seduction here," Lucius bit
back, surprised at the anger rolling through him. "We're talking about a
young woman who could lose her life for your country. She deserves better
treatment than she has received thus far."

The cigar snapped between the king's fingers. "It is of no
consequence.
She
is of no consequence." The man's voice no longer
sounded modulated and even; his face was as flushed as the pile carpet.
"She has a purpose. As you do, Major, or have you forgotten your own
role?"

"I may have found the girl for you, but I certainly did not
authorize her being drugged and kidnapped."

"And yet you brought her to Vendari."

He knew he'd have to live with that knowledge for a long, long
time. "I had my orders."

The king leaned forward. "And is not one of those orders to
make sure that I am kept content? That my goodwill continues to be extended
toward your country?"

Lucius wanted to wipe the smug look off the bastard's face with
one punch. But it would serve no good. He'd worked with men like Tarkioff
before, some worse, a few better, but all of them aware of the see-saw game of
international politics, a game that had innocent casualties all too often.

"I will keep Miss Richards safe." He enunciated each
word so that they both understood where he was coming from. "She is under
my protection while she is in Vendari."

The other man shrugged and smiled. "And who is going to
protect the young lady from you, Major?"

Chapter 5

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^
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J
ane joined the major for breakfast
the following morning. She had barely slid into the straight-backed chair and
grabbed a cup of coffee before he announced, "We've arranged two events
for you today. We're using your long trip as an excuse not to overtire
you."

"Today?"

"You're ready."

Wrong. She'd never be ready for this. Never.

"But what if I—"

"You're ready. The limo will be here in less than half an
hour to take us into the city. Eat your croissant and we'll be on our
way."

McConneghy was sure if the croissant was a lethal weapon it'd be
lobbed his way in a heartbeat.

But he couldn't afford to pretty up what wasn't pretty. It'd been
a long week but he'd been honest with her. She was ready. As ready as she'd ever
be, and they could no longer afford this time in seclusion. The rumors were
already circulating and rumors in an unstable country were too dangerous to go
unchecked.

The rest of the brief breakfast was spent in silence. She still
wasn't eating enough to feed a bird but he'd let it go this time. One skirmish
at a time and he held no doubts there would be more skirmishes ahead.

"Eustace Tarkioff will be joining us in the limo," he
said and watched her pale.

"The king's brother?"

"Yes."

"Why is he coming?"

"He wants to make sure all is well." He could have lied.
Should have when he noted the way her hands moved to her lap, pleating her
skirt. "He's the Head of Security. It's his job."

He wondered what she was thinking as silence descended, until she
squared her shoulders, looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Can he
nix your mission?"

"It's too late—"

"No, I mean, does he have the power or authority or whatever
to force the second option? The one I didn't choose."

No wonder she looked as if she was preparing to meet the firing
squad.

"No. The choice has been made. The mission goes forward as
planned."

Less than twenty minutes later, he wondered if he should have made
Jane more wary of the king's brother. Eustace Tarkioff possessed several
attributes his royal brother did not, secrecy and control being two. There had
been many times Lucius had wished Eustace had been the ruling brother rather
than the more volatile and unstable Viktor.

This was not one of those times, Lucius thought, as he watched the
cool way Eustace introduced himself to Jane and her response.

Was it only days ago he'd been dealing with a woman on the verge
of snapping? Where was that woman? He'd all but swallowed his tongue earlier
when he'd seen her standing in the open doorway of the breakfast room, the
color of her suit enhancing the golden tones of her skin, darkening her eyes,
highlighting every inch of luscious, satin-smooth skin. It was all he could do
not to choke on the sip of coffee clogging his throat.

And then she'd slid into the chair across from him, the movement
hitching up her skirt to expose one creamy thigh, the V-neck slipping until he
thought he'd drool. The scent of her skin-warmed perfume kicked him dead
center. On the real Elena Rostov he'd have thought the move calculated, or
practiced overkill. But Jane Richards didn't seem to have a clue what she was
doing to him.

She had him by his windpipe and was tightening her hold by the
second. Hell, even the way she spread butter on a croissant had him imagining
how her long, slender fingers would feel stroking him—touching, caressing,
memorizing. It was a miracle he hadn't poured hot coffee all over himself.

Now Eustace was taking her at face value. With her attention
focused on the city rushing past outside the window, her posture that of any
elegant woman, at ease, in command, sure of herself, Lucius himself might have
been fooled into thinking the hardest part of this mission was behind them.

It'd be a dangerous mistake to make. Especially as they were even
now moving toward a possible trap. One with Jane Richards as the bait.

He wouldn't think about it. Couldn't or he'd scrap the mission.
Hadn't his team been over and over the area already? They were in place now and
he'd be there, too, determined to make sure nothing happened to her.

"You look very serious." Her voice washed over him.
Calm. Almost too calm, as if she was exerting every ounce of energy to keep her
tone even. Not that he blamed her. He felt the same way himself.

He listened as she continued, "I don't know if that frown
you're wearing bodes well for where we're going."

He forced his features into a calmness he didn't feel, knowing
Eustace Tarkioff was weighing every word. "It's an elementary school. A
couple of songs from the kids, a speech or two from the administration."

"And do I have to make a speech, also?"

He found himself reacting to the near panic in her eyes. "No.
A few words of thanks, shake everybody's hand that you can, smile constantly
and you'll be fine."

He watched her tug at her skirt and wished he hadn't. It didn't
take much to imagine tugging at it himself, but for a whole different reason.

"You're frowning again."

"Occupational hazard."

"How did you get into what you do?" she asked, quickly
glancing at the king's brother and adding, "I mean, if it won't reveal any
secrets for you to talk about it."

"I was recruited in college." Lord, that was a lifetime
ago.

"I didn't know they recruited for stuff like that." She
leaned forward, her blouse gaping slightly, his throat going dry. "It's
not like there are college courses in abduction and international
troubleshooting."

He couldn't help the wince.

"I'm sorry," she immediately offered, her smile small
but genuine. "I didn't mean it to sound like that. I just meant how could
college have prepared you for this." She waved her hand toward the front
of the car, the guard riding there, the bulletproof glass, the escort of
uniformed soldiers on motorcycles beside the vehicle.

"It didn't." This time he could smile back. "I
showed an aptitude for languages and history." And the ability to absorb,
understand and synthesize vast quantities of information quickly and easily.

"And the next thing you knew you were in an obscure room in
an obscure corner of the Pentagon?"

"Something like that."

"What exactly is your job title?"

He glanced at Eustace before replying. "Advisor to the
king."

"Advisor on?"

"Security. Politics. International Relations."

"But you're not an ambassador or with the State Department?"

"No. At this time Dubruchek does not have official diplomatic
relations with the United States. A situation we are hoping to rectify."

"By my being here. Quid pro quo?"

The woman caught on quickly and Eustace was now the one frowning.

"We'd been talking about my career path. A very mundane
subject, I'm afraid."

She leaned back against the leather seat, her expression
thoughtful. "I think you're leaving a few details out."

He couldn't help but grin at her wry tone, and look of
disappointment. "Look, I'd love to tell you some wild and exciting story,
something that makes me sound larger than life and out of the ordinary, but it
wouldn't be true."

"No?" One elegant brow arched upwards.

"I'm just a guy trying to do a job the best way I can."

"Some job."

Since he didn't know if she meant it as an accusation, or in
admiration, he let her words slide. After all he had a few questions of his
own. "How did you decide to be a librarian?"

She glanced at him as if looking for a hidden agenda before giving
a silent shrug. "I always enjoyed books and research." She paused, as
if hesitant to continue before adding, "And helping people."

He sensed there was more to her answer so he waited. It didn't
take long.

"I know it's not in the same league as helping troubled
countries, but in my own way I do help people. Not to change the world, or save
lives, but I try to make a difference."

"Are you justifying what you do to me, or to yourself?"

He heard her quick intake of breath and regretted his observation,
no matter how accurate it might have been.

"I'm not—oh, maybe I am, just a little." She started to
pleat her skirt through her fingers. "But I never wanted to be in some
glamorous occupation."

Lucius thought of all the hellholes he'd been in through the
years, the jungles and inner-city slums, the all-night meetings making choices
that left bile in his gut and emptiness in his soul, the decisions made, lives
sacrificed and people scarred by actions he did and did not take, and he
thought the word
glamorous
as far from the truth as the woman before him
was from the real Elena Rostov.

"I think the world needs a lot more librarians," he
remarked, as surprised as she that he'd said the words aloud.

She appeared to want to respond, but time had run out; the car
swung down a street that was swept daily and pulled into an open paved area. He
quickly picked out several of his men, stationed where they could see the most,
offer the most protection. The setting was still vulnerable to attack from a
number of points, but he'd stationed men to watch them too.

It was show time.

"Miss Rostov," he offered his arm, aware a member of the
school staff had opened the limo door and was both watching and listening. Jane
glanced at Eustace Tarkioff, who gave a silent nod.

"Major McConneghy." She placed her hand in his, her eyes
suddenly hesitant and unsure. But her voice betrayed nothing as she slid along
the seat toward him.

Atta girl,
he wanted to tell her. Just as
he wanted to let her know he'd be right there with her. Right beside her.
Protecting her in every way he knew how.

He'd made his promise and meant to keep it. As long as it took to
get her back to her world, the quiet, normal world of a small-town library, he'd
be there for her. No matter what the cost to him.