Spy Girl (Spy Girl #1)

“God save the King!” is shouted three times and then the bishop finishes the ceremony and pronounces Lorenzo as King of Montrovia.

Trumpets play, bells chime, gun salutes sound, and King Lorenzo Giovanni Baptiste Vallenta V of Montrovia walks proudly down the aisle with his mother and out to greet thousands of his countrymen outside the church.





After the processional, I find Juan standing next to me. “The King requests a word with you.”

I’m escorted to the War Room and told to make myself comfortable. I give Juan back the royal jewels I wore to the Queen’s Ball, then flip on the TV and watch the live footage of him greeting his fellow Montrovians. I take the fact that I’m here and not his residence as a bad sign.

An hour later, he strolls into the room. The crown, scepter, and cape are gone, but he’s still in full royal military garb. It reminds me of dancing in his arms at the Queen’s Ball.

“Your Highness,” I say in greeting.

“I’m sorry I haven’t properly thanked you—for saving my life, saving the monarchy, and for protecting my country,” he says with a sincere tone, but I can tell by his body language that he’s not feeling it. He’s mad at me. And I don’t blame him. “But things all happened so fast—the ball, the kidnapping, my father’s death, the funeral, and the coronation.”

“Thanks for inviting me to your coronation. I was honored.”

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. The people of Montrovia and I owe you a great debt. I had planned on bringing you here after the funeral and well, to be honest, before everything happened I was considering proposing.”

“Proposing?”

“You would make a lovely queen.”

“Shouldn’t you marry someone you love?”

“You struck my fancy.”

“We haven’t even slept together.”

“That was planned for somewhere between then and the proposal,” he says, without a trace of a smile.

“But now?”

“I received a call from the director of the CIA, who then transferred me to someone who wouldn’t give me his name or tell me who he worked for. It was requested that I tell no one about you, not my government or even my closest confidants. They say your cover has taken years to put into place. It’s my understanding you will continue to be Huntley Von Allister.”

“That’s correct.”

“Then please get down on your knees in front of me.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you looking for a royal blowjob?”

“No,” he says, finally laughing at me as he takes a large sword off the wall. “I’m giving you an Accolade.”

“What’s that?”

“A ceremony to confer knighthood.” He grins. “It’s my opinion that making you Montrovian nobility will up your social status and strengthen your cover.” He taps the flat side of the sword on my right shoulder, then gently raises the sword just up over my head and then taps my left shoulder. “With the power vested to me by country and crown, I make ye a knight of Montrovia.”

He sets the sword aside, helps me to my feet, and kisses both my cheeks.

“I thought women couldn’t be knights.”

“You will be Montrovia’s first, and you will be referred to as the Contessa of Courtenay, a nobility title that is bestowed for your lifetime.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“I owe you my life.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I touch his face and tenderly kiss both his cheeks, letting the kisses linger. “My mission was to get close to you and protect you.”

“Which you did.”

“Yes, but there’s more you need to understand. I was taught not to become emotionally entangled—told that it only leads to failure, but I failed in that part of my mission. When I ignored you to get your attention and when I saved you, that was me the spy, but as we spent time together and I got to know you, the things I said—they were not part of the mission. Those words came from me, from my heart. I care about you, Enzo.” It’s the first time I’ve called him by his nickname. He covers my hand with his, holding it in place against his cheek. “You are going to be an amazing King.”

We stand and gaze at each other.

“You and I are in the same boat,” he finally says, kissing my lips in a way that feels like goodbye. “Our countries need us.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “I still can’t believe what you did. I’ve only seen people move like that in the movies.”

“It was my first time,” I whisper.

“Your first mission, I know.”

“That’s not what I mean. It was the first time I ever killed anyone.” Tears flood my eyes. “I’m really sorry you had to see it.”

He pulls me into a tight hug. “You took out seven highly-trained guards by yourself, plus Ophelia. I don’t like that people had to die, either, but it was for the good of the world. The good of Montrovia. You should feel no guilt as they brought it upon themselves.” He smiles and tries to change the subject. “So did you receive commendation from your country?”