“Yes.” Hannah straightened away from the diagram. “To some extent we’ll use the press. In addition, I’m making it clear that payment must be made that night, as well as arrangements for my passage out of the country. Deboque has invited me to sail with him. I shall accept.” She pressed her lips together as Malori grumbled. “The money will change hands because he’ll believe I’ll be easily accessible if anything has gone wrong.”

“And will you be?”

“I’ll be with him.”

“The ISS will be covering both Deboque’s villa and his yacht,” Reeve cut In. “The moment we have Hannah’s signal, we move.”

“There is no other way?”

Again there was concern. This time Hannah found herself laying a hand on the prince’s arm. On the arm of Bennett’s father. “We could perhaps tie him to other crimes. With the information I’ve been able to dig up in the last two years, we would have something, but it would take months, even years and we would have no guarantee. This is the only way, Your Highness, to stop him once and for all.”

With a nod, the prince looked over at Reeve. “You agree?”

“Yes.”

“Malori?”

“It is more dramatic, and certainly more risky than one would like, but yes, Your Highness.”

“Then I will presume that you two will see to whatever details have yet to be seen to. I will expect reports every four hours.”

Recognizing dismissal Malori bowed. Even as Reeve rolled up the diagram again, Hannah was preparing to curtsy.

“Hannah, I’d like another moment, please.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” She stood by the table, stiff and tense as the two other men left them alone. He would know of her feelings for Bennett, Hannah thought. Even in the brief time she’d been in Cordina, she’d learned that Armand was both astute and observant. He didn’t merely rule from a throne, but behind a desk and in boardrooms. If his country was at peace and prosperous, it was largely because he knew how to govern, how to make choices and how to remain objective.

Yes, he would know, she thought again. And he would not approve. She was European. She was an aristocrat. But she was by choice and by profession a spy.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Armand began. “Sit, please.”

In silence she took a seat and waited.

She looked like a dove, he thought. A small gray dove who expected and accepted the fact that she was about to be mauled by a fox. Studying her, he had difficulty believing she would be the one to end the turmoil that had haunted his family for more than a decade.

“Reeve has confidence in you.”

“I can promise it’s not misplaced, Your Highness.” She nearly relaxed. It wasn’t about Bennett, but Deboque.

“Why did you agree to take this assignment?”