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And Alec’s heartfelt vow, “I promise you, Angel, this stops here.”
She realized then that was exactly why Alec had made the choice he’d made. Because being the honorable man he was, he couldn’t refuse to answer the call of duty. He couldn’t not do whatever he could to make the world a better place, no matter the personal cost.
And he couldn’t ask her to sacrifice everything for him. Not because he didn’t love her enough, but because he did.
The question was, did she love him enough? Did she understand? Truly understand?
* * *
Alec stood watching the snow falling in a soft cloud outside his embassy office window and remembered how together, he and Angelina had confronted one of Vishenko’s henchmen in the Denver snowstorm. They hadn’t even had to discuss what to do; they’d operated on the same wavelength as only a team could before moving on to the real safe house where Cate had been taken.
Cate and all the women like her were counting on Alec to do everything in his power to stop men like Vishenko. How could he let those women down?
But at the same time he remembered the devastated expression in Angelina’s eyes a week ago as she said, “You did not ask me.” She’d tried to hide it from him, but he could read her. And though he’d never doubted himself before, never questioned his decisions, now he wondered, Should he have asked her?
The buzzer sounded and Alec moved to his desk to answer it. “Yes, Tahra?”
“If you don’t leave shortly, sir, you’ll be late for your appointment with the king.” He glanced at the clock on his desk and realized Tahra was right as usual. “I already ordered one of the embassy limos,” she continued. “It should be waiting downstairs for you in five minutes.”
“Thanks. I’ll head down in a minute.” He clicked off the speakerphone, but his hand stayed poised over the phone for a moment as he considered calling Angelina’s cell. Then he discarded that as a bad idea. She was working, and what would he say, anyway? That he’d been wrong not to ask her to sacrifice her world for him? That he’d been wrong not to sacrifice his honor for her?
As he rode down in the elevator, Alec wondered what this meeting with the king was all about. It couldn’t be related to the progress in the trafficking case—Alec and the ambassador had met with the king and his advisers the day before yesterday in their weekly status meeting. So it had to be something else. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of a reason for the unexpected phone call he’d received that morning from the king’s appointments secretary, asking for this meeting. But as an embassy diplomat, he could never refuse an invitation from a head of state.
* * *
Alec met King Andre Alexei IV in his private office, not one of the conference rooms they usually met in. He was politely shown into the large, airy room, and when the king rose to meet him, both the footman and the king’s bodyguard left them alone, something that had obviously been prearranged.
“Thank you for coming, Special Agent Jones,” the king began when they were both seated, but then he shook his head. “Need we be so formal? My sister calls you Alec. May I?”
“Please do, sir.”
The king smiled. “I am Andre to my friends, Alec. And I have a feeling we are going to become friends.”
“Sir?” Alec hadn’t been expecting this. Yes, they were close in age—the king was only a year or so younger than he was. But...he was a king. Not Alec’s king, but still. A king. A sovereign ruler of a sovereign nation. Even though the United States and its citizens were egalitarian, Alec had been trained in diplomacy. But nothing in his training had covered a situation like this.
“Assuming you are agreeable to a suggestion I will be making to you today,” the king clarified, “we will be seeing a lot of each other over the coming years. My sister speaks very highly of you, Alec, as does her husband—both hold you in affection as well as esteem. You might already know I value their opinions.”
Slight understatement, Alec thought wryly, especially where Princess Mara is concerned, although he didn’t share that with the king.
“And then, of course,” the king continued without a pause, “there is what you have accomplished in such a relatively short time. All these things speak to your character. I would welcome the opportunity to add you to my small circle of friends.”
Alec drew a deep breath. “I would be honored, sir.”
“Andre,” the king insisted. “At least when we are in private.”
It went against his training, but Alec repeated, “Andre.”
The king laughed. “There, that was not so difficult, was it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now to the issue at hand. If you have not already received a commendation from your superiors for a job well done, you will. I have formally expressed Zakhar’s sincere thanks in a letter to your president, a copy of which I have here.” He picked up an envelope embellished with the state seal of Zakhar, and handed it to Alec. “It thanks the United States—in particular you and Trace McKinnon— for rooting out the corruption in the US embassy in Drago, and for bringing an end to the human-trafficking ring operating between our countries. Above and beyond the call of duty. I believe those were the words I used to describe your actions, but you can read the letter yourself when you are alone.”
