Her brow lifted because it seemed such a simple question with such a simple answer. “I was asked.”

“And had the right to refuse?”

“Yes, sir. In such matters an agent always has a choice.”

A prince didn’t. He understood the difference, yet still didn’t envy her. “You took the assignment because your superiors requested it.”

“Yes, and because what Deboque does here has affected and could continue to affect my country and the rest of Europe. A terrorist, in whatever garb he chooses, remains a terrorist. England wants Deboque’s hands tied, tightly.”

“Your first consideration is country.”

“It always has been.”

He nodded again, knowing this could bring both joy and misery. “Did you choose your profession because you looked for adventure?”

Now she relaxed completely and laughed. The moment she did, Armand saw what had captivated his son. “Pardon, sir, I realize that the word ‘spy’ conjures up all sorts of glamorous images: foggy docks, Parisian alleyways, nickel-plated revolvers and fast cars. In truth, it’s often tedious. In the past two years, I’ve done more work on telephones and computers than the average secretary.”

“You wouldn’t deny the danger involved.”

“No.” She sighed a little. “No. But for every hour of danger, there’s a year of legwork and preparation. As for Deboque—Reeve, Malori, the ISS, have taken this plan step-by-step.”

“Still, in the end, you’ll be alone.”

“That’s my job. I’m good at it.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Under normal circumstances, I would worry less.”

“Your Highness, I assure you everything that can be done is being done.”

He was aware of the truth of it and that, for the moment, his hands were tied. “And if a mistake is made, how will I comfort my son?”

She locked her fingers together. “I know, I promise you whatever happens, Deboque will be punished. If you—”

“I’m not speaking of Deboque now, but of you, and of Bennett.” He held up a hand before she could speak again. “It is a rare thing for me to be able to speak as only a father. I ask you to allow me that luxury now, here in this room.”

She drew in a breath and tried to be clear. “I realize Bennett is angry and upset because he wasn’t told the reasons for my being here. I believe he feels a certain responsibility toward me because I’m here to protect his family.”

“He’s in love with you.”

“No.” The panic set in again, along with the shame and the desperate desire for it to be true. “That is, he thought, before when he believed me to be . . . At one time he began to feel a certain affection, but when he learned who—what I was, that changed.”