Personal Protection Read online

  This undercover mission was clear...

  Until one life-altering moment changed everything.

  Carly Valentine never expected that she would have to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend, but when Ivan Mostek’s visit to Kansas City enrages his fiercest enemies, it’s the only way to keep him safe. Suddenly, the experienced cop is faced with a mission like none she has ever trained for. One in which fake feelings could turn into something all too real.

  A concussive wave of heat swept over them, carrying them several feet through the air before they hit the concrete and rolled to a stop against the wheel of a truck.

  Every point of her body was bruised or numb from the crashing fall. Knuckles, elbows, knees, heels. Ivan’s full weight on top of her made it hard to breathe. But even as her lungs protested and her vision spun in circles, Carly clamped her hands around his biceps, trying to reverse their positions and drag him behind the shelter of the pillar.

  But in the next second, Ivan shifted, bracing his elbows on either side of her and palming her head, tucking her face against his chest and shielding her body with his as flying metal and burning car parts rained down around them.

  A heavy chunk of twisted fender clanged down beside them. Carly shoved at his chest, hating the vulnerability of his position. Instead of budging, his hold on her tightened. “Damn it, Ivan. I protect you!”

  He jerked once, and she knew he’d been hit.

  PERSONAL PROTECTION

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Julie Miller

  Julie Miller is an award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author of breathtaking romantic suspense—with a National Readers’ Choice Award and a Daphne du Maurier Award, among other prizes. She has also earned an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. For a complete list of her books, monthly newsletter and more, go to juliemiller.org.

  Books by Julie Miller

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Rescued by the Marine

  Do-or-Die Bridesmaid

  Personal Protection

  The Precinct

  Beauty and the Badge

  Takedown

  KCPD Protector

  Crossfire Christmas

  Military Grade Mistletoe

  Kansas City Cop

  The Precinct: Bachelors in Blue

  APB: Baby

  Kansas City Countdown

  Necessary Action

  Protection Detail

  The Precinct: Cold Case

  Kansas City Cover-Up

  Kansas City Secrets

  Kansas City Confessions

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

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  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Prince Ivan Mostek of Lukinburg—The crown prince is ending government corruption and bringing his country into the modern world. But not everyone likes change. Someone has already tried to kill him and blow up half a city to stop him. When he travels to Kansas City on a trade mission, he discovers that the biggest threat is within his own entourage. With no one to trust, he turns to an outsider—a tough, sexy KCPD cop—for protection.

  Officer Carly Valentine—Masquerading as Prince Ivan’s American girlfriend requires a Cinderella makeover for this kick-ass undercover cop. Bodyguard duty doesn’t faze her. Neither does ferreting out the traitor in their midst. But embracing her feminine side and falling in love with the mysterious prince means risking her heart. She’s working class and he’s royalty. Even if they survive the attempts on his life, how can they ever have a happily-ever-after?

  Joe Hendricks—Carly’s precinct captain is working as her handler on this undercover operation.

  Aleksandr Petrovic—Prince Ivan’s friend and trusted adviser. But can anyone really be trusted under the circumstances?

  Filip Milevski—Prince Ivan’s chief of security. Is this longtime servant to the crown past his prime?

  Eduard Nagy—The newest member of the prince’s security team is eager to please.

  Danya Pavluk—The prince’s by-the-book bodyguard has an attitude.

  Galina Honchar—The prince’s chief of staff is organized and efficient.

  Ralph Decker—A reporter for the Kansas City Journal. Just what kind of story is he after?

  For Jana Boyll Thompson, my singing buddy.

  I so enjoy hanging out with you at City Singers and

  doing a show together every now and then.

  We’ll try not to get into too much trouble.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Excerpt from New Orleans Noir by Joanna Wayne

  Prologue

  May 1—Lukinburg Day in St. Feodor, on the steps of the historic palace square

  “In three months, St. Feodor will play host to a group of dignitaries from our sister city in the United States. We will introduce the Americans to the charm of our country and show them that they need us as much as we need them. They need our rugged mountains, our beautiful beaches, our vast supply of natural resources, the skills and grace of our people.”

  Cameras flashed in the crowd, and the low white noise of television and radio commentators from across Europe and the United States, speaking a dozen different languages, buzzed in the background beneath static from the old broadcasting system. The world was waiting for tiny, mountainous Lukinburg in Eastern Europe to blossom after decades of oppression to take its rightful place on the world stage once more.

  A black-haired woman in a cream-colored suit moved in behind the prince at the podium and tapped him on the shoulder. “Do not forget to mention the city’s name, Your Highness,” she reminded him.

  “Thank you, Galina,” the prince whispered before turning back to the microphone. “Kansas City, Missouri, our sister city, will become Lukinburg’s partner in worldwide respect and future prosperity. We shall be great friends.”

  The crowd erupted in applause. He adjusted his glasses at his temple and scanned the throng of onlookers through the bulletproof glass surrounding the podium. He looked past the placards here to support the new regime to the handful of scowling doubters with their own less supportive signs, waiting for the opportune moment to voice a protest.

  A public gathering of this size in the capital on one of the country’s biggest holidays once would have been a prime target for dissidents. Change was hard for any citizen. Change was the enemy to those who’d once held positions of power, who were now either imprisoned or being asked to embrace what was good for the country over what was lucrative for themselves. But the prince had reached out to those dissidents, had listened to their complaints and fears, had formed alliances and reached compromises with many of them. Yet, some of the most die-hard rebels hadn’t given up the fight, and they would always see the new monarchy as their enemy.

  Lukinburg’s army had some of the finest trained soldiers in the world, and the plainclothes security force that now surrounded the country’s leaders at every venue were on constant guard against any threat that would topple the fragile new g
overnment. He looked at his friends and former military comrades flanking him on the podium. They were doing this. They were making Lukinburg great again. Their hard work and dedication had given the country reason to celebrate today.

  Ivan Mostek, the crown prince of Lukinburg, was nearing the end of his long fight to replace the corrupt government of this country. A hardworking regency government and brave voters had replaced the corrupt dictator and mafia-like power brokers who had made Lukinburg a haven for criminals and arms trafficking. Part of electing a new Parliament and reestablishing the democratic monarchy this picturesque country had enjoyed before World War II was locating a true heir to the Lukinburg throne. As a distant cousin of the last legitimate king’s late grandnephew, that dubious honor fell to Ivan. Plucked from graduate school where he’d been earning his MBA, he’d accepted the position. Patriotism and DNA had left him with no other choice but to say yes, and accept that within the next year, he would be crowned king.

  With the discovery of gold and mica deep beneath the mountains east of Lake Feodor, Lukinburg now had raw materials that countries in the West and Far East were clamoring to build their electronics and develop new computer technologies. The prince had implemented environmentally safe mining practices to sustain the new resources. From his newfound position of power, he was jump-starting the country’s economy, feeding the poor, capitalizing on new industries and putting people to work—all while paying tribute to Lukinburg’s traditional culture and storied history.

  Public appearances were necessary to assure the citizens of the solidity of the new government. And public appearances meant crowds of people and noisy fanfare and making speeches. After the cheers had died down, he continued, “Kansas City’s manufacturing, agricultural and business leaders will be in our beautiful country, in this fair city, in three weeks. A carefully chosen delegation of representatives from Lukinburg will negotiate trade agreements and cultural exchanges that will benefit both our countries.”

  He spied movement in the shadows of the pointed Gothic archways in the cathedral across from the palace steps where he stood. He looked across the podium to his friend Konrad Pavluk. They exchanged a nod of awareness. Konrad had spotted the movement, too. The other man drifted across the dais to stand beside Galina. Anyone less observant would have missed the hidden squeeze of hands, the subtle whisper of a warning. She nodded and moved up behind the prince again to relay a message.

  The military marksmen stationed in decorative ramparts atop the stone buildings surrounding the public square didn’t seem concerned by the hooded man in the long coat making his way through the crowd of bystanders. Maybe they didn’t see him. Or perhaps, as the prince had confided to his best friend only days earlier, someone within his inner circle was still working with the extremists. Did the uniformed guards’ lack of response mean they were unobservant? Traitors? Was he overly paranoid about the prince’s safety because an attempt had already been made on his life?

  Although that sniper had been captured and taken into custody, the threats against Ivan’s life continued. It had been random gunfire that had wounded his driver and ignited the engine of the car they’d taken to an ore refinement facility being built outside the city. Were the extremists here today? Mingling with this crowd of innocent civilians? Would they strike again, regardless of the casualties a group this big might sustain? Was the man in the hooded coat one of them?

  He glanced over to the security chief, Filip Milevski. Although the dark glasses he wore made the direction of his gaze unreadable, the stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair was on the radio pinned to his wrist, no doubt asking for a situation update from his men and hopefully sounding a potential alert to stop the man who was now circling the fountain in the middle of the square.

  The prince’s voice was slightly less composed, tinged with a bit of anger, when he continued. “I promise to make Lukinburg great again. We will move past the shame of our former leaders. We will return to the democratic monarchy of our ancestors. I will work closely with the new prime minister and your votes will count. All your votes,” he added, perhaps emphasizing to the extremists in the audience that they were not excluded from the new government.

  Another round of cheers from the crowd nearly drowned out a lone dissenter who booed him. “You’re selling us out, Ivan!”

  Security Chief Milevski sidled closer to the prince. “Wrap it up, Your Highness.” He moved Konrad and another one of his men farther down the granite steps in front of the podium. “There are too many of us exposed here. We’re all in danger.”

  His gaze zeroed in on the hooded man. He’d sat on the edge of the fountain and was unbuttoning his long coat. The prince kept talking into the microphone, keeping the crowd engaged while members of the security team made their way through the onlookers to reach the suspect. “We need free trade. Our people need food.”

  “Our people need a leader they can respect!” The protest came from another corner of the audience.

  “I agree. For too long, we have been led by men our people fear. Fear doesn’t put food in people’s bellies. Our people are working again. They aren’t afraid to leave their homes and share their opinions and vote however they please.”

  A tall man, with hair as black at the prince’s himself, moved in beside him with a whispered warning. “Your Highness. We need to go.”

  The security team converged on the fountain as the hooded man stood. “End Ivan!”

  “Bomb!”

  There were too many screams to make out the words that followed. The crowd split and ran like a tidal surge away from the fountain.

  “Stop him!”

  “Save the prince!”

  Armed men in suits ran forward.

  A sniper guarding the gathering from a turret high above the street raised his rifle and took aim at the insurgent. But he was too late.

  “Save yourselves!” Prince Ivan warned. His bodyguards swarmed around him and shoved him to the stone steps behind the podium. The square erupted with light and the deafening roar of an explosion.

  The prince’s cheek scraped against stone as the black-haired man covered his body with his. His ears were stopped up by the concussive blast. But he heard the screams of his people, the stampede of running feet, gunfire, as if the violence was all happening far in the distance instead of a mere few yards beyond the podium.

  He spotted blood on the steps a split second before something sharp and hot seared his skin, cutting through the invisible target on his back.

  The prince’s public rallying speech in the heart of Lukinburg’s capital left him wounded. Landmarks had been damaged. People were injured, dead.

  The dignitaries from Kansas City wouldn’t be coming.

  Chapter One

  August—Kansas City, Missouri

  After the explosion in the palace square, the businesspeople and government officials Ivan Mostek needed to talk to in Kansas City had refused to travel to Lukinburg. They were concerned for their safety, and rightly so. The shrapnel scars on his back were still pink and tender from that attack.

  But he wouldn’t give up on the new government’s vision to reform his country.

  So, the prince had come to Kansas City. These negotiations were going to happen, no matter what a few leftovers from the old regime thought of him. They’d lost their power and weren’t above using an assassination to get it back. Perhaps the threats he faced were coming from loyalists who believed the modernization of their country would irrevocably change it, and they’d lose their cultural identity. What they’d lose was any kind of standing as a first world country. Their economy was dying, and the old ways didn’t feed his people.

  Ivan Mostek, Crown Prince of Lukinburg, the symbolic leader of his country and heir to the throne, had no intention of giving power back to the thugs that had nearly ruined their country, nor did he intend to destroy any of the things that made Lukinburg so uniquely sp
ecial. The plan was a good one. But he had to survive first. Survive this trip to the States. Survive until his coronation and hopefully live a long and healthy life afterward as the leader of Lukinburg.

  The first step in that plan meant leaving his country and traveling to Kansas City for a week. The second step meant surrounding himself with people he trusted. That was proving more of a challenge than he’d expected since it seemed that no matter what security measures his team put into place, the threats kept coming. So, he’d put in a call to KCPD to ask for help from strangers. The local police had no ties to Lukinburg. He was counting on them to provide a layer of protection that couldn’t be influenced by politics, fear of change or revenge.

  Striding up the steps from his limousine, Ivan followed his chief of security, Filip Milevski, into the lobby of Fourth Precinct headquarters. His trusted adviser and good friend, Aleksandr Petrovic, followed right behind him, while another bodyguard, Danya Pavluk, brought up the rear. His third bodyguard and new driver, Eduard Nagy, would park the car and wait for them to finish their respective meetings.

  After lining up their visitor badges, Filip, a tall, beefy man with graying sideburns, punched the button to call the elevator. “I will escort you to your meeting with Captain Hendricks. Then Danya and I will meet with the SWAT captain and senior patrol officer to coordinate security at your public appearances.”

  Ivan smoothed the knot of his tie and nodded. “Do not forget to have them set up extra officers outside the Lukinburg embassy on Saturday. Your team can work with embassy security inside, but the ball will dramatically increase traffic and bring many wealthy and important local and state people to that part of town.”

  “I forget nothing,” Filip huffed, as though it was an insult to remind him. The elevator doors opened, and he waited for the car to empty before leading them inside. “I do not understand why you could not stay at the hotel and let me handle the police department. This Joe Hendricks you are meeting with is not on my list of contacts.” No, but Chief of Police Taylor had recommended the precinct captain when Ivan had called to ask for the secret favor. “I cannot control your safety when you surprise me with meetings that are not on your agenda.”