Alec's Royal Assignment. Amelia Autin
to mention much of the rest of the world. The king wishes nothing to disrupt the ceremony or detract from the religious solemnity of the occasion.”
He cleared his throat. “If possible, of course. To that end, silencers for all security participants was considered but rejected for a variety of reasons, including the difficulty of covert carry with a silencer, and the fact that it changes the balance of a gun—not something senior leadership wanted to risk. Questions?”
Angelina had questions, but she wasn’t going to ask them yet. No matter how much she and the two other women on the team tried to fit in, the men still resented it if the women spoke first in group meetings like this. She’d learned to pick her battles. She glanced left and right, and wasn’t disappointed.
“What precautions are being taken?” one man asked.
Another man threw out, “Who is responsible for advance security on the cathedral?”
“Will the guests have to pass through a metal detector as they enter the cathedral?” a third man queried. “And if so, who will be monitoring it?”
Captain Zale dealt with these questions and several others, explaining so everyone knew exactly who was responsible for what, and who would be stationed where.
There was a short silence. Then, “With so many security details there to guard the royal family, the potential exists for fractionalization instead of us operating as a cohesive whole,” Angelina said quietly. “What is being done to prevent this?”
Captain Zale cast her a quick nod of approval. “Good question, Mateja.” He faced the entire room. “There will be a dry run in the cathedral on Saturday,” he said. “A dress rehearsal, as it were. Everyone who is not on duty that day is expected to be in attendance. This will help lay down clear lines of communication between all three security details.”
His eyes narrowed. “Remember, this is not a pissing contest,” he said crudely. “The king’s men will be there, and naturally they think they are superior. That they are in command. We are the queen’s men, lesser beings in their eyes. This is not true, and I have it on the best authority—the king himself. We have been handpicked by him to guard the queen against any and every threat. So do not let the attitude of the king’s men distract you. Let them think they are superior. We know the truth. And we—not they—will ensure a successful outcome. Any further questions?” Silence held sway. “You are dismissed.”
* * *
Angelina skimmed down the wide, marble stairs of the grand staircase, her feet barely touching the carpeted treads. When she was a little girl her father had complained that Angelina never walked anywhere, that she was always in a hurry to get where she was going, and it was still true. Very little had changed about Angelina since her childhood.
Today was actually an off-duty day for her— although like everyone else on the queen’s security detail she’d been called in for the mandatory meeting just now—and she had plans. There was still time...if she didn’t dawdle.
She had one thing she felt compelled to do first—related to both her job and her growing friendship with Queen Juliana. A friendship that had quietly begun during the queen’s recent pregnancy, when the queen had confided in Angelina her fears and worries about her pregnancy in a friendly, disarming way that invited Angelina’s confidences in return. A way that made her love Queen Juliana as a true friend and not just her queen—not surprising, really, since the queen was only a year older than Angelina, and hadn’t been born to her lofty position.
Their friendship was something Angelina didn’t broadcast, though. She didn’t want anyone saying her next promotion was due to anything other than pure merit. But until she personally checked things out at the cathedral and assured herself that Queen Juliana and her baby would be safe, Angelina wouldn’t feel free to enjoy her day off.
She’d just turned down a side corridor that would take her to the vast parking lot behind the palace where her little Fiat—one of her few prized possessions—was parked, when someone called to her. “Lieutenant Mateja! Angelina, wait up!”
She turned, saw Alec Jones and was immediately torn. She hadn’t expected to see him again today and wasn’t prepared to deal with him—especially after this morning.
But courtesy had been instilled in Angelina since before she could walk, and she couldn’t just slip away as if she hadn’t heard him calling her name. As if she hadn’t seen him coming after her. “Special Agent Jones,” she acknowledged when he drew near.
“Alec,” he reminded her. “Remember?”
Angelina tried but failed miserably to control the slight flush that tinged her cheeks. Not at the reminder that she’d already agreed to call him Alec, but of the kiss they’d shared. The kiss she’d pretended she hadn’t wanted. The kiss that had knocked her world off-kilter.
Alec had been right this morning—damn him, she thought now. She’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him. And in that moment she’d wanted him to kiss her. She just hadn’t been prepared for it—hadn’t been prepared for the way her body had responded to being in his arms, either. Not at all.
But she wasn’t going to admit it to him. “Alec,” she agreed coolly. “Yes, I remember. What are you doing here?”
“Meeting,” was all he said. “Business. You?”
“Meeting.” She was as terse as he was.
“So where are you headed now?”
She considered his question for a moment and realized there was no reason not to tell him. “I am heading to Saint Anne’s Cathedral.”
He nodded with evident admiration, and Angelina realized he understood why she was going there, even without her saying another word. “Smart,” he said. “Very smart. Mind if I tag along?”
She raised her eyebrows in a question, and he added, “I’ve been invited to attend the christening.” He gave a little huff of rueful laughter. “McKinnon told me the princess wrangled an invitation for me. It would be rude to decline, especially since I’m here at the—” He stopped abruptly, and Angelina wondered what he’d been going to say. “Anyway,” he continued smoothly, as if this was what he’d intended to say from the start, “since I’ll be there, it would make me feel better to know the lay of the land. Advance knowledge never hurts, does it?”
“No, it does not,” she acceded. She hesitated, of two minds about letting Alec go with her. Then she remembered he was a highly trained professional who’d been in the bodyguard business longer than she had, and he might have insights she would find helpful. Just as he’d taught her a very important lesson this morning, there were other things she could learn from him. All at once her treacherous thoughts skittered down a path she refused to take—he could teach you many things, yes!—and though her body thrilled to that idea, she quickly brought both her body and her thoughts under control.
“How did you come to the palace?” she asked him.
“Taxi.” He smiled at her. “One of those cute little Zakharian taxis that seem to be everywhere. I could have called for an embassy limo—the official dignity of the embassy’s RSO must be maintained, I’m told—but it seemed kind of stuffy. Or I could have walked. The taxi was a reasonable compromise.”
“I have my car here,” she said. “If you do not mind being driven by a woman.”
Alec grinned as if at a secret joke, and Angelina mentally chastised herself for the verbal slipup. She knew American men were not like Zakharian men. Most of them anyway. American men were used to American women doing—and doing well—just about everything a man could do. But all Alec said was, “You wouldn’t ask me that if you knew Princess Mara used to drive herself to and from the university where she worked. That meant I was always in the passenger seat.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later they were in the vaulted main chapel of Saint Anne’s