Charade (14 page)

“Really?
That’s so classy. No wonder your subjects worship you. And—” she paused to smile impishly “—I wish I’d known about this before I wore the quote-unquote infamous shoes. I’ve been dying for a tour of your castle, but I didn’t want to anger you by asking for it.”

“A tour?”
He pursed his lips. “But in these shoes, you cannot walk?”

“Right.
I should have worn the sturdy ones you gave me, but let’s face it. These are prettier.”

“Yes, we must face that,” he agreed. “The Kestonian shoes are in your room?” Before she could answer, he shouted, “Nikko!” and the door burst open.

Vlad quickly instructed his subordinate, who was gone in an instant.

“Wow, I hope you pay him a lot. He’s always doing something for you.”

“It is his honor to serve me.” The dictator offered her his arm. “Shall we have our tour?”

She smiled and accepted the gesture, hoping to appear shy.

Vlad frowned,
then
stroked her face with his free hand. “You are still frightened?”

“No, General. I trust you.”

His smile was dazzling. “To a Kestonian, that is the ultimate compliment. And now, let me show you my home. After that, we will eat together, and then we will see what else the night has planned for us.”

She had already acquired finger and palm imprints from a ranking Kestonian officer, as well as a full uniform. Now, as she walked the halls with her seductive escort, Sasha gathered more and more
intel
that she prayed would help with Teal’s rescue.

As predicted by the NSA, the fortress had excellent security, even in the section that housed the private living quarters of the Kestonian elite. There were video cameras in virtually every corner of the hall ceilings, reminding Sasha that she still needed to master the equipment Allison had supplied to her. Unfortunately, Sasha had been directed to dispose of the “instruction manual” at the Rome airport, so the final details would have to be learned by trial and error. Luckily, Vlad had assured her the video cameras in the residential areas were only there to protect the royal family while they slept, not to invade anyone’s privacy. For that reason, they were only operational from nine at night until six in the morning, in contrast to their twenty-four-hour use in the rest of the castle.

According to the dictator, the fortress was more than eight centuries old and had been built atop the ruins of an even older structure. Within the walls were all of the important offices of state as well as housing for the
prezydente’s
family and most of the highly placed staff. A well-lit tunnel connected the living quarters to the offices and other assorted work areas.

“We have cottages, too,” Vlad explained. “Had you visited in summer, you would have been allowed to stay in one for more privacy. But in winter, it is more pleasant to be in the main house. The snow here grows quite deep.”

“It does in Chicago, too,” Sasha assured him. “But I’m happy with my room. It’s very warm and cozy.”

They turned a corner and were confronted by a second tunnel that was not as well lit. “What’s this?” she asked.

“It leads to an older section that is no longer in use. You would not be interested in it.”

Sasha’s pulse quickened, and she said teasingly, “Let me guess. That’s where all the political prisoners are?”

“I do not keep prisoners,” he replied with a hint of a smile. “It is much more economical to execute them immediately.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re not at all barbaric. I see that now. The publicity you’ve gotten has been awfully unfair.”

“Yes.” He scowled. “It is my hope that the opulence and sophistication of the grand ball will soften those opinions. In time, our economic and scientific advancements will convince the world once and for all that we are the first in a new breed of nation—small but progressive.”

“But in the old days?” Sasha persisted. “Prisoners were tortured in the old section?”

He exhaled sharply, as though frustrated. Then he took her arm again. “You will not be satisfied until you see for yourself.
The curiosity of a woman, yes?”

She gave a light laugh. “I thought you liked the fact that I’m a woman.”

“I like it very well,” he agreed. “Shall we go?”

She had expected to find some sign of life—specifically some sign of Teal—but Vlad had spoken the truth. The dungeons were empty, and while spotless, they seemed dank from lack of use.

What were you planning to do if you saw her?
she
asked herself glumly.
Grab the poor kid and make a run for the border?

But if Teal wasn’t here, where was she?
In the cottages?
That didn’t seem prudent. Or perhaps she was in a completely separate location. The logistics of finding her in that case were daunting, given the harshness of the Kestonian winter.

“There are stories in these walls,” Vlad told her softly.
“The history of my country.
Sometimes violent.
Always passionate.
At times, even romantic.”
Backing her unexpectedly against a stone wall, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her roughly while pinning her tightly in place with his hips. His mouth became a
weapon,
violating her with such cruel disregard that bile actually rose in her throat.

In her heart, she thanked him for the harsh behavior. Until now, she had been confused by her half-fascinated reaction to him.
To his power.
His commanding manner and confident mastery.
But this kiss wasn’t masterful, it was selfish—the kiss of a man to whom all others were just pawns to be used for his own enjoyment and advancement.

Because of Teal, she allowed him to maul her for a few extra moments. But it was clear that if she didn’t do something soon, she was going to be the mother of his children, so she pushed her hands against his chest and gasped, “Please, General. I need to say something.”

His black eyes were smoldering with desire and frustration, but he pulled back a little and demanded, “What is it?”

“This is too fast for me. I just met you today. There’s something between us—that’s obvious.
Something amazing.
But still, this is too fast.”

He grinned. “You are frightened of your feelings? I am complimented. In America, men do not kiss you this way?”

“No. Not ever.”

“As you said, you have not known a general until now.” Pressing his mouth against her ear, he murmured, “There is something you do not know.
Something that will change your mind.
I have chosen you.”

“Really?”
She tried to wriggle discreetly out of his grasp.
“For what?”

“As a candidate.
For my bride.”

“Bride?”
she demanded frantically. “That’s crazy, Vlad. You just met me.”

His expression grew cold, and she realized she had made a serious tactical mistake. This man’s ego was so inflated, even the slightest hint of resistance constituted a monumental insult.

She sandwiched his face between her palms. “I’m so flattered, but—”

“Enough! We will speak of it no more.”

“At least, not for now.”
She tried to smile. “You just surprised me, General Zelasko. I wasn’t ready for anything like this. I liked it—I mean, what girl wouldn’t? You’re rich and powerful and gorgeous! I just wasn’t ready. Can’t we start over?”

“You will return to your room and I will return to mine. Nikko!”

Sasha grimaced as the ever-present young colonel darted into view.

“Escort Miss Bracciali to her room.
Then report to me,” Vlad commanded,
then
he stalked away before either Nikko or Sasha could utter a word.

“Wow.” Sasha winced in Nikko’s direction. “I guess I made a huge mistake.”

The young man’s expression seemed shell-shocked. “He paid you great honor. And you…you rejected him.”

“Did I? I didn’t mean it that way.” She shook her head. “Do you think he’s going to deport me now?”

“Deport you?”

“Send me back to America?”

Nikko shrugged. “I cannot know. But you have other uses, do you not? You will represent your father tomorrow. For Prezydente Zelasko, that has great significance.”

“I hope so,” she murmured, wondering how she could have managed to offend the dictator so cavalierly. It wasn’t as if he’d actually proposed. He’d just elevated her to “candidate.” Why couldn’t she play along with that?

Trudging after Nikko through the dingy tunnel, she tried to imagine what to do next. She could send a note of apology, something subservient that also offered unlimited sex. But Zelasko probably
had
unlimited sex at his disposal already. She could claim that he had scared her—wasn’t that what he loved in a woman? Or she could just avoid him like the Kestonian plague for the rest of her visit.

Except, she needed him because she still didn’t know where Teal was.

They were passing a row of offices, heading for the second tunnel, when Sasha saw someone approaching. It was a female soldier carrying a tray from the living quarters toward the offices. While it was impossible to be sure, it looked like a tray of food.

At almost nine o’clock in the evening, when all the offices seemed to be vacant.

She’s bringing it to Teal,
Sasha’s instincts told her.
Maybe they’re keeping her in an office!
But which one?

She needed to see where that tray was going, so she slumped onto the floor, leaning her back against the wall and covered her face with her hands. “I’m so stupid! I offended General Zelasko. What if he never forgives me? What if he throws me out of Kestonia? My father will
kill
me if I mess this up.”

“Miss Bracciali!” Nikko knelt beside her, clearly aghast. “Sasha! Do not do this. It will be worse for you if you do. You must compose yourself before the general sees you.”

She peeked between her fingers in time to see Nikko wave the other officer away. The woman seemed perplexed, but finally shrugged and headed down the hall, away from the tunnel, pausing in front of the third door on the right,
then
pressing her hand against a security panel.

Sasha’s heart almost stopped, but she knew she couldn’t let Nikko see her reaction, so she grabbed his sleeve and insisted, “You’ll tell him, won’t you? Tell him I didn’t mean to offend him. I’ll go to bed with him right now
—right this minute—
if he’ll just promise not to tell my father how I insulted him.”

Nikko’s eyes clouded. “I will not take you to his bed.
Only to your room.
To sleep.
In the morning, you will behave. You will not try to speak to the general. You will attend the conference,
then
return to your room. After that, you will attend the ball. Then you will go home to America and marry an American.”

She gave him a grateful smile, even though it wasn’t clear whether he was concerned about her, the general or himself. In any case, he was right. She needed to lay low for a while.

“The gate will descend in five minutes,” Nikko warned. “My card will not open it. We must hurry.”

“Gate?”

“For the tunnel.
It will close at twenty-one hundred hours for the night.”

Sasha filed the information away, pleased to think that she could avoid the key card issue completely if she just got to Teal early enough in the dark winter evening.

Offering Nikko her hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. But she
didn’t
allow him to see how fascinated she was with the fact that the uniformed woman with the tray had disappeared into the third office on the right.

N ikko brought Sasha’s breakfast to her bedroom on a tray, a sign that she was still persona non grata in the eyes of the generalissimo. It was actually a relief, since she had managed to design a rescue plan, thanks to long hours of sleeplessness, and she was intent on putting it into action right away. Even if she hadn’t been so ready for action, the idea of meeting a bunch of underworld chieftains over breakfast just didn’t appeal to her. Better to wait for the conference in the afternoon, assuming she and Teal were still in Kestonia by then.

When she mentioned to Nikko that she might go outside for a taste of fresh air, he cautioned her to bundle up well and to follow any and all orders given to her by military personnel. He even offered to escort her, but she insisted that she needed to do something on her own so that her confidence would be strong when she addressed the conference attendees that afternoon. He seemed to understand, and after a few minutes of polite visiting, he left her alone.

Wolfing down a sweet roll and some coffee, she quickly changed from her jeans and sweater into the stolen uniform, which fit amazingly well. Before she finished buttoning the white blouse, she used an adhesive bandage to tape four of the anti-intoxicant pills to her midriff. Then she carefully placed a set of Svetlina’s handprints in the inside pocket of the jacket.

She didn’t have a cap, but she’d noticed Svetlina didn’t wear one anyway, at least not consistently. The woman with the tray had worn one, but perhaps she had been of a lower rank, or had come from the outdoors. The important thing was that Svetlina wasn’t just a major. She was Vlados Zelasko’s sister, and could do whatever she wanted. All Sasha had to do was conduct
herself
with confidence and she’d do well, too, assuming she got the final touches just right.

The first was easy—styling her hair like Svetlina’s. The color was very close to Sasha’s, but Sasha’s was so long, she took a few extra minutes to ensure that the prim knot she formed at the nape of her neck didn’t look too bulky.

If she came face-to-face with anyone, she knew this disguise would fail her. But considering that the office was so close by, she was hoping she could avoid direct contact with others. This disguise was really for the video camera, and seemed authentic enough for a grainy black-and-white image. She would keep her head down on some pretext to avoid a front view, and from behind—well, she was hoping that if the monitors were staffed by men, and she swayed her hips a little, she could help them forget why they were watching her in the first place.