Alec's Royal Assignment (Man On A Mission Book 3) by Amelia Autin Page A
Authors: Amelia Autin
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his instincts— ignored the warning.
His voice dropped a notch when he urged, “Have dinner with me, Angel. Pick a restaurant—any restaurant you want. Just have dinner with me.” It wasn’t his usual approach. He was good at charming a woman, an approach that had worked many times before. But somehow, his usual facile charm was absent this time around. And Alec had never held his breath as he waited for an answer. That was something new, and he wondered why her answer was suddenly so important.
Angelina tilted her chin up, staring at him so intently, so seriously, Alec was sure she was going to say no. The decision hung in the balance for a moment. Then she said, “Mischa’s, in the central district, is probably the best choice. They have been there since before my mother was born.” Her eyes smiled before her lips joined in. “They are not four-star, you understand. Casual dining, not formal. But the food is good, and at a reasonable price. You will like it, I think. Even the king enjoyed eating there with his fellow soldiers when he was in the Zakharian National Forces. There is a picture of him with his unit on one wall, with pictures of other famous diners.”
“Sounds good. Where is it?”
“It is a little difficult to explain. Do you know the central district?”
“My apartment’s there. And I should tell you my sister calls me the human GPS—I’ve never gotten lost yet, no matter where in the world I find myself.”
Angelina’s smile deepened. “Where exactly is your apartment?”
When Alec told her it was on Vasska Street near Jalena Lane, she said, “But that is very close to Mischa’s. No more than five blocks away. You could walk to your apartment from the restaurant. And the market is on the way. I could help you shop—not everyone speaks English. Did you take a taxi?”
Alec shook his head. “Not this time, I’m afraid. One of the embassy cars brought me.” He didn’t tell her he wanted the embassy staff to know he was visiting his friend in the palace—adding fuel to the gossip he knew was already swirling about him. The best way to accomplish that was to have one of the embassy drivers bring him back and forth, casually-on-purpose mentioning the reason for his visit to the driver. If Alec and McKinnon met openly as friends, it was less likely someone would suspect McKinnon was involved in an investigation when he visited Alec at the embassy.
He also didn’t tell Angelina that using an embassy car and driver for ostensibly personal reasons was a violation of the rules—something he’d done deliberately. Not just to stress his friendship with McKinnon, but to spread the word he wasn’t ethically a stickler. He was going to uncover whoever in the embassy was responsible for the fraud and corruption—that was a given, no matter how long it took—it would just be easier if
they
approached
him.
So the first step was making himself approachable. If he would bend the rules in one way, why not another?
Slippery slope,
he reminded himself. Most people who trod the straight and narrow didn’t realize just how true that was. Once you broke one rule, breaking the next wasn’t quite so hard. Each successive infraction became easier to justify to yourself, until you found yourself at the bottom of the pit, with no way out.
He shook off his sudden introspective mood, and said, “The driver’s waiting for me. I could have him drop us off at the restaurant instead of my apartment.”
She thought about it for a few seconds and then shook her head decisively. “No, I cannot do that.”
There’s that “I cannot” again,
Alec told himself. “Why not?”
Angelina hesitated. She glanced around nervously and blurted out, “It is one thing to talk to you here—although even that is... I do not want anyone to see me leaving the palace with you on a regular basis. We were already spotted the other day when we left for the cathedral together—it was mentioned to me by two men I work
His voice dropped a notch when he urged, “Have dinner with me, Angel. Pick a restaurant—any restaurant you want. Just have dinner with me.” It wasn’t his usual approach. He was good at charming a woman, an approach that had worked many times before. But somehow, his usual facile charm was absent this time around. And Alec had never held his breath as he waited for an answer. That was something new, and he wondered why her answer was suddenly so important.
Angelina tilted her chin up, staring at him so intently, so seriously, Alec was sure she was going to say no. The decision hung in the balance for a moment. Then she said, “Mischa’s, in the central district, is probably the best choice. They have been there since before my mother was born.” Her eyes smiled before her lips joined in. “They are not four-star, you understand. Casual dining, not formal. But the food is good, and at a reasonable price. You will like it, I think. Even the king enjoyed eating there with his fellow soldiers when he was in the Zakharian National Forces. There is a picture of him with his unit on one wall, with pictures of other famous diners.”
“Sounds good. Where is it?”
“It is a little difficult to explain. Do you know the central district?”
“My apartment’s there. And I should tell you my sister calls me the human GPS—I’ve never gotten lost yet, no matter where in the world I find myself.”
Angelina’s smile deepened. “Where exactly is your apartment?”
When Alec told her it was on Vasska Street near Jalena Lane, she said, “But that is very close to Mischa’s. No more than five blocks away. You could walk to your apartment from the restaurant. And the market is on the way. I could help you shop—not everyone speaks English. Did you take a taxi?”
Alec shook his head. “Not this time, I’m afraid. One of the embassy cars brought me.” He didn’t tell her he wanted the embassy staff to know he was visiting his friend in the palace—adding fuel to the gossip he knew was already swirling about him. The best way to accomplish that was to have one of the embassy drivers bring him back and forth, casually-on-purpose mentioning the reason for his visit to the driver. If Alec and McKinnon met openly as friends, it was less likely someone would suspect McKinnon was involved in an investigation when he visited Alec at the embassy.
He also didn’t tell Angelina that using an embassy car and driver for ostensibly personal reasons was a violation of the rules—something he’d done deliberately. Not just to stress his friendship with McKinnon, but to spread the word he wasn’t ethically a stickler. He was going to uncover whoever in the embassy was responsible for the fraud and corruption—that was a given, no matter how long it took—it would just be easier if
they
approached
him.
So the first step was making himself approachable. If he would bend the rules in one way, why not another?
Slippery slope,
he reminded himself. Most people who trod the straight and narrow didn’t realize just how true that was. Once you broke one rule, breaking the next wasn’t quite so hard. Each successive infraction became easier to justify to yourself, until you found yourself at the bottom of the pit, with no way out.
He shook off his sudden introspective mood, and said, “The driver’s waiting for me. I could have him drop us off at the restaurant instead of my apartment.”
She thought about it for a few seconds and then shook her head decisively. “No, I cannot do that.”
There’s that “I cannot” again,
Alec told himself. “Why not?”
Angelina hesitated. She glanced around nervously and blurted out, “It is one thing to talk to you here—although even that is... I do not want anyone to see me leaving the palace with you on a regular basis. We were already spotted the other day when we left for the cathedral together—it was mentioned to me by two men I work
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