judgment. “Kathy, we don’t know how many cabinet members are actually part of the revolution plot. If the king or queen put their trust in the wrong person, it would blow our operation sky-high. We can’t take that chance.”
And Dakota had some concerns about Queen Nicole and Albert Payune. “Besides, how well do you really know the queen? She could have stumbled into an affair with Payune. That might be the reason he quit looking for a wife.”
Kathy narrowed her eyes. “Queen Nicole hasn’t stumbled into affair, Dakota. I already told you she wouldn’t do something like that. She loves her husband.”
And I thought you loved me, he wanted to say. “So women don’t cheat on their husbands? They don’t get themselves tangled up with other men?”
“Some do, I suppose. But not most. That’s a man’s game.”
She picked up the magazine again, and Dakota kicked his legs out in front of him. A man’s game. Right. He hadn’t even looked at another women since she’d been gone. He studied Kathy’s professional attire, her slim, fashionable figure. When she flipped a page, he caught sight of a gold band glinting on her finger. She wore her wedding ring, the diamond and emerald design he’d had custom made for her.
Don’t take that as encouragement, he told himself. She’d put it back on for show, for the sake of their cover. “So have you been with anyone?” he asked, his voice gruff. “Did you leave me so you could sleep with another man?”
Kathy’s complexion paled. “I can’t believe you’re asking me something like that.”
He felt his muscles tense. Technically, they were still married. Neither had filed for a legal separation, much less a divorce. He had a right to know. “Well?”
“Of course not.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze, her eyes locking onto his. “What about you? Have you been with someone?”
“No.” He shook his head and made light of his loneliness, the years he’d waited for her to return. “The way I figure it, we’ve still got that piece of paper between us.” As well as the vows they had taken.
For better or worse. Until death do us part. He had meant every word.
She let out an audible breath, her eloquent vocal skills suddenly failing her. “I suppose it was best that we…discussed this issue. I…we…don’t need any personal distractions on this mission.”
Yeah, and wondering if your spouse had a new lover would certainly fall under the category of a personal distraction. “I agree. Now that it’s out in the open, I won’t mention it again.”
“Good.”
Her smile was tight, but the fear in her eyes had faded. Fear that he had been with another woman. The thought made him a little smug, as well as confused. If things like that still mattered, why hadn’t she come home before now?
Dakota dragged a hand through his hair. She isn’t home, Lieutenant Lewis. This is an assignment, a fake reconciliation. Get your facts straight.
They remained silent for the next twenty minutes, she, occupying herself with another magazine, he, staring out the window at the night sky. He would have rather been piloting the plane than sitting idle, thinking about how much he missed a closeness with his wife. Sure, they had spent some time away from each other, but due to the nature of his work, those separations couldn’t be helped. And their reunions used to be nice. Damn nice. Nothing like this one.
“Dakota?”
He turned away from the window. “Yes?”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me the Lone Star jewels really existed?”
While he’d been thinking about her, she’d been thinking about the recovered jewels. Well, at least one of them had her mind on the mission. “Only those associated with the Texas Cattleman’s Club were supposed to know they existed.”
“Because of the legend?”
“Yes.”
“So the story about that soldier is true?”
Dakota nodded. A Texas soldier had found the jewels during the War with Mexico and had brought them to Royal after the war, intending to sell them and make his fortune.
“When he came home, oil was found on his land. So he believed just owning the stones was lucky, and that they should remain in Royal.”
“And now the Cattleman’s Club protects them, and everyone else thinks their existence is just a legend. A story passed down from generation to generation.”
“Yes, but Payune came across the truth somehow.”
Kathy leaned forward, clearly engrossed in their conversation. But then she loved jewels, and the Lone Star gems were a rare, stunning collection. Too bad she would never see them, he thought. He would enjoy watching her eyes glow—those gorgeous green eyes.
“Any idea how Payune found out about them?” she asked.
“It’s possible Prince Ivan had something to do with it. When he was in Royal, he asked a lot of questions. It would stand to reason that he heard about the legend. He probably told Payune about it.”
“And Payune discovered the legend was true, from his comrade, Robert Klimt—the man who had stolen the jewels.” Kathy reclined in her chair. “I’m so glad they were recovered. They haven’t been safeguarded all these years to end up in the wrong hands.”
“Funding a revolution no less.” Dakota rose and headed toward a small wet bar. “Do you want a cold drink?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Then how about a cup of hot tea?” He knew she added one teaspoon of sugar and a splash of cream to her tea. He wondered if she remembered little details about him or if she had chosen to forget. It wouldn’t be hard to recall that he drank his coffee black or that he considered hot sauce a breakfast staple.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
He poured himself a tall glass of soda water and returned to his seat.
Kathy placed the magazine on her lap. “Are you concerned about the queen’s ball? I know how much you dislike social functions.”
Dakota cocked an eyebrow at her. He didn’t dislike all social functions, just the ones that required a tuxedo and served champagne instead of beer.
“No, I’m not concerned about it. I’ve been to plenty of fancy affairs.” And they made him uncomfortable as hell, even the familiar Texas Cattleman’s Club events. Dakota had spent more years in war paint and combat gear than he had in uniform. This ball, he figured, would be the worst part of the mission. Next to Kathy, he would probably look like a big, snorting Brahma. James Bond he wasn’t. Not all undercover agents were that damned debonair.
“So you don’t want me to brief you on royal protocol?” she asked.
Dakota scowled. “No, Miss friend-of-the-queen, I don’t. I know how to behave around royalty. As you might recall, I spent twenty years of my life serving in the United States Air Force. I’ve
