closer as they approached the couple, and his laughter faded. His mouth took on a grim cast and he cursed softly before adding, “I know them. Both of them. Which means they’re not here by accident.”
Since the eyes of the four had already met and held, the two Zakharians didn’t bother trying to evade Alec and McKinnon as they came up to them.
The man read the expression on McKinnon’s face, and said quickly, “Your wife, she was concerned for your safety. But she knew you would refuse protection, so she asked the queen what could be done...secretly. The queen asked us as a special favor if we would keep an eye on you when we were free to do so.” He shrugged, and a small smile played over his lips. “So we are here. Have you ever tried to refuse your queen anything?”
Alec grinned, caught McKinnon’s eye and tried but failed to stifle his smile. Substitute the words your princess for your queen, and he knew McKinnon wouldn’t have been able to answer in the affirmative. He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Alec Jones. I’m the new regional—”
“Regional security officer for the US embassy,” the man completed the sentence for him. “Yes, we know. I am Captain Marek Zale,” he added. “And this is Lieutenant Angelina Mateja. Queen’s security detail.”
Alec shook both their hands. “Pleased to meet you.”
Angelina said abruptly, “You were once assigned to guard Princess Mara when she first went to Colorado, yes? You and your brother. She has spoken of you both with affection.”
Alec was mesmerized by both her face and voice, not to mention her body. For once he didn’t have to look down to talk with a woman—Lieutenant Mateja was only a couple inches shorter than he was, and somehow that was especially appealing. She didn’t wear any makeup, not that he could see, but she didn’t need it. Hers was an understated beauty of blue eyes so pale they were almost gray, baby-fine skin that begged for the caress of a man’s fingers and good bone structure that would age well. All surrounded by a sassy cap of straight corn-silk blond hair.
And her voice? The slightly accented English and the word order to her sentences reminded him of Princess Mara, but she spoke in a deep, rich contralto that made him think of warm, gooey caramel melting on top of vanilla ice cream. As for her body, she was lithe and lean, but there were curves for a discerning man to appreciate. And Alec was a very discerning man.
“Yeah,” Alec answered Lieutenant Mateja’s question after a few seconds. “Liam—my younger brother, that is—and I, and this guy here,” he said, indicating McKinnon with a tilt of his head, “we were all the princess’s bodyguards the first six months she taught at the University of Colorado in Boulder.” He slid a sideways glance at McKinnon. “Then she married McKinnon—” there’s no accounting for taste, his bantering tone and expression conveyed “—and the State Department decided she no longer needed DSS protection, so Liam and I were pulled off the job.”
Alec focused on Lieutenant Mateja again, wondering—as most men wondered when they encountered an attractive woman—what she’d be like in bed. He smiled inside as he imagined making love to someone he didn’t have to bend down to kiss. Someone he could stretch out next to on the sheets. Someone as toned and taut as he was. But he was careful not to let his imaginings show on his face.
She already pushed his buttons, and now that he’d heard her voice, he was even more attracted to her than he had been earlier, and that was saying a lot.
It had been a while for him. His career with the DSS meant he was often posted outside the United States—DSS special agents had to be available for assignment anywhere in the world on short notice. And his last posting had been in the Middle East. Look but don’t touch was the watchword for a prudent man in the Middle East where local women were concerned. As for Darla, the incident at the coffeehouse had put paid to any possibilities where she was concerned.
Then, when he’d been hustled out of the country, he hadn’t been back in the States long enough to pick up the threads of his social life before being posted to Zakhar. So it had been a while. Longer than he cared to acknowledge.
But now that he’d met Angelina Mateja, Alec was suddenly looking forward to his new assignment with a renewed—and very male—interest.
Alec woke well before dawn. Crossing several time zones in his flight from Washington, DC, to Zakhar meant that his sleep-wake pattern wasn’t geared for local time. It would only take him a couple of days—three at the most—to adjust. But until then...he just had to suffer.
Despite the early hour, his body told him in no uncertain terms it had enough sleep. So he slipped from his decently comfortable bed, tugged on the appropriate clothes, tucked his spare SIG SAUER in the ankle holster he quickly strapped on and headed out for some much-needed exercise. Tiring his body out would help it adjust faster. Then all he had to do was force himself to stay awake until nightfall, and he was halfway there.
Alec was assuming the apartment lease held by the outgoing RSO—an apartment conveniently only five minutes away from the embassy—but until he officially took over the reins the day after tomorrow, the other guy was still in residence. The embassy had arranged for him to bunk temporarily at this little bed-and-breakfast near the center of Drago. The widow who ran it had given Alec his set of keys last night, and he quickly grabbed them off the nightstand before treading noiselessly down the stairs and out the front door.
This part of the city was mostly shrouded in darkness so early in the morning, with only an occasional street lamp to guide the way. There was light from the airport on the outskirts of town and the palace on the hill, but most of Drago was dark, its inhabitants quietly sleeping.
Alec wasn’t overly concerned. Violent crime in Drago—in all of Zakhar, for that matter—was rare. The average tourist didn’t have to worry about getting mugged.
He’d also studied a detailed map of Drago on the flight over, and had committed it to memory. It was one of the little knacks he had. His sister, Keira, called him the human Global Positioning System because, after studying a map, he could find his way just about anywhere and never got turned around or lost. Helpful for someone who travels the world, he reminded himself with a glimmer of a smile.
Now he turned left and headed toward the river, jogging at a steady pace. The air was cool, almost cold, and for a minute Alec regretted he hadn’t dressed warmer. But then he dismissed the thought. His body would warm up quickly once he really got going.
Little threads of mist floated near the ground, and the closer he got to the river the stronger and more eerie the mist became. He finally reached the embankment and turned left again. There was a wide walkway here that followed the river’s meandering course for miles. What had obviously once been hard-packed dirt from centuries of use had been paved with porous asphalt to accommodate all-weather users. He held by his father’s maxim with regard to running—go as far out as you possibly can, until your body calls it quits... Then turn around and head back. He figured this walkway would help him accomplish just that.
Alec had been jogging for roughly ten minutes when he heard the soft slap of running shoes on asphalt coming up behind him. He glanced over his shoulder but saw nothing. He slowed, then turned around and jogged in place for a few seconds until a figure materialized out of the mist and darkness, closing the gap between them quickly.
He smiled when he recognized the tall, slender woman on the footpath. “Lieutenant Mateja,” he acknowledged.
She’d obviously been running for some time. Perspiration darkened the underarms of her gray sweatshirt, but her breathing wasn’t even ragged when she briefly returned his smile and answered, “Good morning, Special Agent Jones.”
Alec swung into step beside her. “The name’s Alec.”
She considered this for a moment and then nodded her assent to his implied offer. “Alec,” she agreed. “I am Angelina to my friends.” She hesitated for a moment,