Killer Countdown (Man on a Mission 6)

Not going to happen, she admonished herself, frantically trying to rebuild her protective walls, walls that somehow crumbled to dust when Shane was around.

It’s just sex, she thought feverishly. You haven’t had sex in three years—that’s all it is. Shane is a walking advertisement for everything good about men, and you’re feeling needy. So take him to bed, let him put out the fire he started and cross him off your list.

Carly realized with a start that they were nearing the front of the line. Bodyguards stood at the elbows of the king and queen of Zakhar, their eyes hard and watchful. And an aide also stood ahead of them, taking names and announcing them to the royals.

“Senator Shane Jones and Ms. Carly Edwards,” Shane murmured when it was their turn. The aide dutifully repeated his words, then King Andre Alexei IV was shaking her hand.

“Ms. Edwards, so glad you could join us,” he said with a faint smile that seemed sincere.

Carly managed a slight curtsy. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She moved on to Queen Juliana, who clasped her hand, saying, “I’ve met your sister, Tahra, Ms. Edwards. A very sweet young woman.” Before Carly could express her surprise that the queen knew of her family connection, Queen Juliana added, “Tahra talks about you a lot—she’s very proud of her famous sister.”

Carly responded suitably, but she couldn’t help overhearing the exchange between Shane and the king.

“Senator Jones, I was sorry you were unable to make dinner at the White House Friday night—I specifically asked for you because I wished to make your acquaintance,” the king was saying. “I am so glad you were able to be here tonight. Your family speaks highly of you, and praise from them is praise indeed.”

Shane laughed softly. “I’m the oldest of five,” he admitted, then added tongue in cheek, “I’ve brainwashed my brothers and sister into thinking I can do no wrong.”

The king laughed. “Hardly that. But I would enjoy talking with you—” he glanced down the receiving line, which still had a long way to go, then sighed ever so softly “—once my duty here is done. Please do me the honor of staying until we have spoken again.”

After Shane had shaken the queen’s hand, he and Carly moved away, then wandered into the next room, which was resplendent with lights. Shane snagged a glass of champagne for Carly, but declined one for himself. Surprised, she asked, “You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving.”

“One drink shouldn’t—”

“And one of the side effects of the medication I’m on is an increased tendency toward sleepiness. No,” he reassured her when her eyes widened with alarm, “if I felt at all sleepy, I wouldn’t have driven here. But alcohol can have the same effect, so I’m not risking it.” His voice dropped. “I’m not risking you, Carly.”

Just like that, her thoughts skidded down the path they’d taken earlier. She’d never made love with a man whose first and last inclination was a fierce protectiveness of those around him, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like. She’d never been a fairy-tale kind of woman. Had never needed rescuing—she could rescue herself, thank you very much! But there was something particularly appealing about an everyday hero. A man who didn’t have to think about being heroic, he just was—heroism came as naturally to Shane as breathing.

And Carly knew she was in trouble.

Chapter 6

Marsh slid out from beneath Senator Jones’s shadow-black Ford Mustang GT, levered himself up and dusted off his clothes with his gloved hands. He’d stealthily followed the car when one of the valets parking cars at the Zakharian embassy had taken the keys from the senator and driven the Mustang to this location. He’d patiently waited for almost an hour, until no more vehicles had arrived for at least twenty minutes. Then he’d gone to work.

He’d originally intended to wire the bomb to the ignition, but had been forced to rethink that when the car had been valet parked. Fortunately, he was a man who always thought two steps ahead, and he’d had a battery-operated remote detonation device with him. He’d wait until the senator and the reporter were safely inside the Mustang, trail them for a couple of miles to a fairly deserted area, then...