We're honored to have author Misty Evans join us now with her book, Blood Code!
How to Train Your Spy (From a Princess’s Point of View)
In my new sexy spy thriller, THE BLOOD CODE, Anya Radzoya is a lost Russian Princess who must convince a CIA operative to help her save her grandmother from a crazy Russian president. The spy for the job is Ryan “Smitty” Smith, and while he trains her in various undercover techniques, Anya trains him in how to treat a princess…including how to flirt with one:
“Ryan Jones. Russian affairs advisor for President Pennington.” He held up a hand, put it back down. “I’d offer to shake hands, but I’m not sure what the proper protocol is for introducing oneself to a modern Russian grand duchess…” He leaned in conspiratorially and shot his gaze around the room. “And I wouldn’t want to be shot by Ivanov’s police for violating it.”
Her smile had more punch to it this time and her eyes held a definite spark. “A Russian affairs expert who doesn’t know protocol when it comes to royalty? Seems like your schooling needs supplementation.”
A direct hit. He chuckled, and damn if it didn’t feel good. “Having a direct royal source for guidance would certainly help.”
She extended her hand, still pretending they’d never met before. “Well, I never saw the brochure on How to Be a Princess, so I’m afraid my own education falls short of Russian protocol.” Now she leaned toward him and lowered her sexy voice another notch. “But don’t tell, okay?”
Flirting with her was a terrible idea. A terrible, horrible idea. It could get them both in serious hot water.
But Ryan couldn’t stop himself. Didn’t want to stop himself…
Spies are cool, calm, and unflappable. Princesses – at least the ones we admire most – are expressive, outgoing, and responsive to their followers. When training her spy, Anya breaks though Ryan’s unshakable demeanor to the very responsive male underneath:
Anya was wearing his sweater. Again. That fact made Ryan inordinately happy.
And wasn’t that the stupidest thing? He was standing in complete darkness in a tunnel that connected the private quarters of the Russian president to his presidential bunker system in the heart of Moscow, breaking at least a dozen Russian laws—as well as a few American ones— with not one, but two women’s lives riding on his shoulders. His cover was all but blown, and the woman he was with had just assaulted the Russian prime minister and left him bleeding on the floor of the president’s private apartment. Said woman was running away with him, and all he could do was grin into the heavy darkness because she was wearing his goddamn sweater.
And when all is lost, a princess must keep calm, and, well, be a princess!:
Anya drew a shaky breath, locking her knees, and forcing her eyes to convey to Ryan that she was okay.
She was not okay. Not when Ivanov, the bastard, was jamming a gun into the back of her head. Not when they were so close to finally finding Grams and escaping.
And not when she felt a small trickle of warm blood under her shirt.
I’m fine, she conveyed to Ryan with her eyes, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. Whatever she did, she had to make him believe she was not freaking out like a girl.
Which was exactly what she was doing.
Ryan’s gaze was as steady as always. A glint of anger, but no fear. No hesitation. Not even the slightest flicker of anxiety. Mr. Calm, Cool, and Drop Dead Dangerous was still in control.
He won’t let Ivanov hurt me.
The last few days had been the worst of her life. Almost paralyzing fear, vexing guilt, harrowing revelations. Never had she imagined how bad things could get, and it was an experience she never wanted to repeat. For years, she’d wished she could erase the genes in her blood that made her an heir to Russian royalty. The genes that made her blood not clot properly. All of it. The genes, the name, and all her imperfections. If she could just erase them all, life would never have taken this horrendous turn of events.
But she couldn’t erase any of it. She was a Romanov. She was a Russian princess. She had imperfections—some visible, others not—and Ryan had looked past every one of them. He was her rock. She wouldn’t let him down.
Show no weakness. No cowardice. This was her life, and she would meet it head-on.
For more tips on Training Your Spy, read THE BLOOD CODE. You’ll also find out what a spy has to teach a princess…
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