The Makeover Mission (29 page)

He was tempted to stick her on the next plane back to the States
and take the fallout. He would, too, if he was sure that would be safest for
her. But his concern was that once she was out of his sight, out of his direct
sphere of influence, she'd be vulnerable in ways he didn't want to imagine.

She'd been kidnapped once already because of her likeness to Elena
Rostov, why not again? And there lay the crux of the problem. If she stayed in
Vendari, continued her charade until the day of the wedding, she was in danger,
and if she left, she was also in danger.

Since he couldn't fight on two fronts at once, while every
instinct screamed at him to get her away—as far away from him and Vendari as he
could—he knew she'd be safest where he could see her, touch her, protect her.

He was betting her life, and the best part of his, that he was
making the right choice.

He glanced back at his watch when he heard the door behind him
open. Relief surged through him the moment he recognized Jane's hand on the
door, just one more sign of the strain he'd been feeling the last week.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, stepping into the room
in the cautious way she'd moved the last couple of days. As if by walking
warily, not stirring the space about her much, she might become invisible. He
wondered if it was a trait from her childhood, a childhood he doubted had given
her much sense of security and assurance. He'd at least had that much. Too much
responsibility at too young an age, but he had known that his mother had needed
and wanted him.

"Come in." He waved her into the library, thankful it
was empty for a few moments. "The king and his brother might intrude at
any minute."

"If the Head of Security is with the king is it
important?"

"A formality."

She had enough to deal with without his concerns on top of them.

She offered him a tentative smile, as if gauging his mood before
trusting her own reaction. "I was hoping to find you alone."

He opened his arms and she stepped into them. It was that easy. In
spite of everything he'd done to her—brought her to this isolated country,
embroiled her in a potential revolution that didn't amount to a lot in the
scope of world affairs, taken advantage of her vulnerability to become her
lover—in spite of it all, she came into his arms without hesitation. It
staggered him.

"I'm alone." He brushed a kiss across her hair, wanting
more, knowing at any second they could be interrupted. "I thought you were
going to spend the day in your room."

"I've memorized every square inch of those walls." He
heard the frustration in her voice and bit back a smile. His kitten was a
lioness at heart, though he doubted she thought of herself that way.

"There's a dinner this evening."

"The dinners are hardest of all." He felt her frown as
she rubbed her cheek against his chest, setting off an explosion of need
throughout his system. "I feel like you're so far away from me, even
though you're in the same room."

"It'll be over with soon."

He felt her tense immediately and wanted to bite his tongue.
They'd both sidestepped the issue neatly. Never acknowledging that one day
she'd be on her way, he on his, but they'd both known it was inevitable.

"I don't mean to complain." She pulled out of his arms
and stepped back, a tremulous smile that tore at his being touching her lips.
"I just thought, maybe for a short while, sometime today we could get
away. Find an excuse to take a drive or have a picnic somewhere."

He watched the way she wrapped her arms about her as if holding
herself together, and decided, though it'd take a lot of rearranging and
adjusting, it'd be worth it to take the shadows from her eyes.

"I have to do this meeting with Tarkioff and his brother for
a few moments." Her expression looked crestfallen. "But I'm sure I
can work something out. It might not be for long."

"Even an hour or two away would help."

"I'll make it happen."

A genuine smile touched her lips, darkened the intensity of her
eyes. He felt as if he'd just handed her the world on a golden platter, a
feeling that only increased when she reached her palm out to lay it upon his
cheek.

"Even a few minutes alone with you in the middle of the day
would be wonderful." He thought he saw moisture in her eyes until her gaze
dropped, along with her palm. "I'll go get ready."

"Is one of my men with you?"

"Yes, sir." She gave him a snappy salute in response to
his tone. "It's Elderman. The young one with the thick eyelashes."

"Good." Though he'd never had one of his crack team
described quite that way before, he told himself not to groan. Later he'd have
to razz the young man about it. It was too good to pass up. "I don't want
you going anywhere without him or one of the others. Is that clear?"

With an indulgent grin she patted his cheek. "If I had a
nickel for every time you've told me that I'd be rich."

"It's for—"

"I know, I know." Her rich, deep chuckle sent its own
message to his libido, though he could ill afford to act on it. "It's for
my own good. I've heard that a few times, too."

"And I'll keep saying it until it gets through."

"You're so cute when you're being all stiff and
official."

He did groan this time. "Damn it, I'm not trying to be cute,
I'm trying to keep you alive."

"I know you are, and you will." She'd reversed roles on
him again, being the one to reassure rather than the one who needed
reassurance. "I trust you implicitly."

Maybe that was part of the problem, he thought. She trusted him
too much. She thought he was better than he was, but he was only a man. A man
who would do anything to keep her safe.

"Jane, I…" He wanted to tell her, at least once, what
she meant to him. But before he could, he heard the rattle of the door handle.

He watched Jane turn toward the door, his attention focused solely
on her until he saw her expression change, her eyes grow wide, her smile
disappear. Only then did he follow the direction of her gaze. He expected to
see Tarkioff or his brother. He expected anything except the person who walked
through the door.

Jane wondered for a split second whether she was awake or
dreaming. The sense of unreality was strong enough to have her doubting that
what she saw, or who she saw, could be real. It was like looking into a mirror,
only one that walked and talked and smiled, a cold, calculating smile that sent
goose bumps crawling up her arm.

"How quaint." The voice was even and well-modulated,
carrying the lightest of accents over the sheen of concession. "I didn't
expect to find you both here, though this will make everything so much
easier."

Jane turned to glance at Lucius, surprised at the rigidity of his
stance. This was not the same man who only moments ago was holding her, teasing
her. The man before her was all business. Cold, controlled business.

"What are you doing here?" Ice coated his words.

"Now, darling, that's not the welcome I was expecting. Especially
from you."

Jane told herself the words meant nothing.

"I don't understand." It was her own voice, sounding
more unsure and frightened than she wished, though it was nothing to what she
felt like inside.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce us?" The other
woman asked, her gaze still locked with Lucius's, her blood-red lips turned up
in a mockery of a smile. "Though I'd say any introduction would be
unnecessary."

"Jane, I'd like you to meet Elena Rostov." Jane could
tell by the other woman's flinch that she didn't appreciate the order of the
introduction, nor the contempt in Lucius's tone. "The real Elena."

The real Elena, indeed, Jane thought, wondering how anybody could
have believed she, Jane, was the woman before her. Except for height, size,
features and coloring, it was like comparing apples to oranges. This was
obviously a woman of the world, smooth, effortlessly in control, sure of
herself, her words purred, her movements were sultry, even her expression was
more assured. Jane had never felt more like the country mouse, or the third
wheel.

"Nice to meet you." She knew the woman didn't hear her
words. Elena's attention was too focused on Lucius.

"You don't seem pleased to see me, darling."

"I'm not."

It was Jane who flinched this time.

"You must learn to be more diplomatic, Major." The woman
moved into the room, her smile as tight as her tone. "That is your role,
is it not? To facilitate relations between our two countries."

"Why are you here, Elena?" Jane could see that Lucius
had not moved, yet his voice sliced through the room. "How did you get in
here?"

The woman's laugh did nothing to ease the tension. "That was
so simple. Your man assumed I was your impostor."

Jane felt like day-old dog meat.

"He asked how I'd left this room but I simply waved him
off."

Lucius's expression did not bode well for the young man. "It
still doesn't explain why you're here."

"No, it doesn't." The woman ran her hand along the back
of an overstuffed chair, an exaggerated gesture befitting a B-grade movie. Her
expression appeared amused. "But I believe you'll have to wait until the
king and Eustace join us."

The words sounded innocent enough, but Jane could feel Lucius
tense at her side. Whatever was going on, he didn't like it.

"You know you've placed both your life and Jane's in danger
by being here."

"Oh, don't be so stuffy, darling." The real Elena
fluttered her lashes. If she hadn't seen it herself, Jane would have thought
the gesture impossible. But somehow on the other woman it worked. "You've
always been too serious. All work and no play makes for a dull boy."

Obviously Elena did not know Lucius very well, Jane realized, if
she thought him dull and serious. The knowledge reassured her. She could see
Lucius being taken in by the woman's sultry beauty, but never by her layered
seduction.

Before she could feel too sorry for Elena, though, the door opened
again and the voice of Eustace Tarkioff boomed into the room.

"It makes perfect sense. You must trust me on this,
Viktor."

Whatever the other man's answer might have been was cut off as
both men spied the woman poised dramatically against the plush chair. It was a
good pose, Jane had to give her credit for that, even as she watched gazes
swing back and forth between Elena and herself.

She didn't blame them for being speechless, though she wished
somebody would say something soon to break the strained silence in the room.

It was Elena who spoke at last. "Come in, gentlemen, and
close the door behind you."

The Head of Security did as she said, though his mouth remained
open, his gaze wary.

"You all look as if you're seeing a ghost, though you know
full well I have been alive and well." Her laugh sounded a little strained
to Jane's ears.

"Of course, my dear." It was Tarkioff who stepped
forward and placed a kiss on the cheek she turned to him. "It was just
that we were not expecting you like this."

His glance swung to Lucius and back to his brother.

Jane felt like an invisible reflection until Eustace looked her
way, then spoke up. "This was not the plan."

"Plans can change, as you should well know, dear."

There were currents beneath currents here. Jane couldn't quite put
her finger on what was happening. Or why. Whatever it was, Lucius must have
noticed, too, as he stepped slightly forward and closer to her side, almost
shutting her out of the conversation and the triangle of people standing across
from them.

The king regarded his brother with a quizzical expression.

"Dear?" he asked at last, pinpointing for Jane one of
the lines of tension radiating like a spoke from the woman before her.

Before Eustace Tarkioff could answer, Elena laughed again and
spoke to the king this time.

"Don't be any bigger a fool than you already are,
darling."

Ouch, Jane thought, watching the king's features tighten, but it
was Lucius who jumped into the fray.

"I think it's time for your explanations, Elena. Yours and
Eustace's."

Now nothing made sense. Why was he lumping the beautiful woman
with the reserved, quiet Head of Security?

"I knew you'd catch on. Eventually." This time Elena's
laugh sounded genuine, her gaze lingering overlong on Lucius. "It's too
bad for your plans it didn't happen sooner."

"What plans? What didn't happen sooner?" Jane was as
surprised as the rest of the room when it was her voice demanding answers.

"Stay out of this, Jane." Lucius's voice brooked no
objections. A sharp slap across the face would have stung less.

"Be kind, darling, tell the poor girl what she wants to
know."