was a little girl, you understand. Names have always fascinated me. I remember when...” She hesitated.
“When...?” he prompted.
“When the king was a boy—he was the crown prince then, of course—his names caught my imagination. Andre Alexei. Manly Defender. That is what his names mean. A good omen for Zakhar, I thought, for a man who would be king someday, yes?”
“If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“He has borne that out,” Angelina insisted earnestly. “He is a man with strong convictions. He would lay down his life for what he believes. His example inspired me. His sister, too. If not for them, I would not be where I am today.”
The conversation had gotten a little too intense a little too quickly for Alec, so he teased gently, “And what does Angelina mean? Angel-face?”
She flashed a startled glance in his direction, as if gauging the intent behind his compliment. Eventually an uncertain smile played over her lips, but something about her expression made Alec think she didn’t often get personal compliments. Or maybe she didn’t allow herself to accept personal compliments very often. And isn’t that curious? he thought. A beautiful woman like her?
“So tell me,” he coaxed as they ran companionably side by side. “If it doesn’t mean Angel-face, what does Angelina mean?”
“Messenger of God.” She looked uncomfortable, as if she thought he might think she was trying to lay claim to something she didn’t deserve. “But my parents did not pick my name for that reason. They named me Angelina Zuzana because those were my grandmothers’ names. Zuzana means lily.”
“Angelina Zuzana. Beautiful names for a beautiful woman.”
She didn’t respond at first, and Alec could tell she was also uncomfortable being called beautiful. But then she said, “Thank you.” Exactly like a woman who’d been raised to be polite...even if she didn’t believe you.
A momentary silence hung between them until Alec asked casually, “If you’re so into names, what does Liam mean? Liam’s my younger broth—”
“Your brother, yes, I know. You are close?”
“Yeah. But I don’t see him very often. We’re usually on opposite sides of the world. Guarding Princess Mara together was a gift. I’m grateful for it but don’t expect it to happen again. So do you know what his name means?”
“Strong-willed Warrior.” Angelina laughed softly, clearly more at ease when the conversation didn’t revolve around her. “Your parents, they named you well for the profession you chose, both of you.” She considered this for a moment. “Or perhaps you chose the profession because of your names?”
Alec couldn’t have cared less about good omens or bad where names were concerned, or why he and Liam had picked their line of work, but he did care about keeping Angelina talking to him in this friendly way. So after a moment he asked, “What about Keira? That’s my baby sister’s name.”
Angelina darted a glance toward him, her eyes flickering over his hair. “Does she resemble you?”
He smiled ruefully. “You mean, does she have red hair, like me? Yeah. Sort of red-gold. Short and curly. Very pretty. Not really like my hair, thank goodness.” He ruffled his short crop of auburn hair.
“Then your parents must not have known,” she replied, breaking into a real smile without breaking stride. “I am not positive—it has been years since I studied the meaning of names—but I think Keira means Black-Haired.”
Alec burst out laughing. “I guess they missed the boat on that one.”
“Missed the boat?” Her forehead crinkled in question.
“That just means they made a mistake, that’s all.”
“Oh. Thank you for explaining.”
“Other than her brown eyes, Keira doesn’t really look like me or like Liam. She looks more like our older brothers...but don’t tell them I said so.”
“Why is that?” she asked swiftly.
“Well...” Alec considered the question. “Neither Shane nor Niall have red hair,” he said, unable to hide that his own red hair was a sore spot with him, “and they have all the looks in the family—and Keira, of course. Shane and Niall look nothing alike, but Keira is like the best of both of them. In a feminine version, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I came along two years after Niall, and Liam followed not quite a year later. Everyone thinks we’re twins ʼcause we look so much like each other.” His lips quirked ruefully. “Right down to our hair. Our mannerisms, and the way we talk, too. And of course, we both went into the US Marine Corps and the DSS. So I guess it’s natural people think we’re twins.” He paused for a moment. “Then two years after Liam, my mom had Keira.” He chuckled. “My dad always kidded that my mom broke his perfect record—four boys and then one girl.”
Angelina smiled perfunctorily at his little joke, but Alec could see she wasn’t really amused. Kind of like Keira, he thought suddenly. Keira had never cared for the way their dad thought less of her because she was female. Wasn’t that why Keira had always fought with brothers who were physically bigger and stronger than she was, to be respected as an equal? Wasn’t that why she’d followed all four of her brothers into the Marine Corps? And wasn’t that why she’d nearly died a few years back, because she was trying to prove to the agency she worked for that she was as good or better at her job than any man?
Alec suddenly realized they’d been jogging for a couple of miles, and Angelina had kept pace with him the entire way. She wasn’t winded at all. Her feet kept time with his in a steady cadence, like the beat of a heart. His heart. The thought disturbed him in a way he’d never been disturbed before, but he didn’t know why.
“What about you?” he asked after a minute’s reflection, trying to bring his thoughts under control by making small talk. “Brothers? Sisters?”
She shook her head. “I had a brother who died when he was a baby. Then there was me. After that, my mother could have no more children. But I have a younger cousin—had a younger cousin—who was like a little sister to me. I have not seen her in many years.” She folded her lips together as if she had intended to say more but wouldn’t.
Alec knew better than to ask her for an explanation. Not yet, anyway. Not with that closed, forbidding expression on her face. So he cast around in his mind for a new topic of conversation and settled on, “I know there’s not much crime here, but aren’t you—I don’t know—a little worried about being out alone this early? I mean, you were obviously on your own in the dark and the mist for some time before we met up. Most women I know wouldn’t risk it. Not in the States, anyway.”
Angelina didn’t say anything. She slowed slightly, and before Alec knew it, she had grabbed his arm, braced herself, and he found himself flat on his back on the grassy verge beside the path, with Angelina kneeling on his chest, one forearm against his throat.
Despite having the wind knocked out of him, the minute he caught his breath he began laughing. He couldn’t help it. “Okay,” he said, admiration leaching into his voice. “You’ve made your point.”
She scrambled up and held out her hand to assist Alec in rising, and he took it. But instead of letting Angelina help him up as she expected, he tugged sharply, pulling her down on top of him again. He rolled over swiftly, taking her with him, until she was wedged tightly between his body and the ground. She squirmed, but he had her pinned neatly by his weight and the firm hold he had on her arms. “Never assume a man’s no longer a threat,” he warned her softly. “Unless he’s dead.”
She stopped struggling then. He gazed down into her face, watching the play of emotions that flickered over it, and was surprised. Chagrin—what he’d expected to see—wasn’t followed by anger