Russian Enforcer's Royal Engagement (Russian Enforcers Book 7)

by Nic Saint

  “Ah, so that’s the reason you asked her to stay, huh?”

  He detected the mocking tone in his brother’s voice and decided he didn’t like it. “That’s the only reason she’s staying,” he grumbled.

  “Just checking,” Rudolph said innocently. He picked up a seashell. “Remember collecting these?”

  Jack’s frown softened. “Course I do. I bet there’s buckets more upstairs.”

  Rudolph gazed at him earnestly. “You like this woman, don’t you, Jack?”

  Jack was about to deny the matter vehemently, but then relented. “I do,” he admitted, also picking up a seashell and pressing his thumb inside, enjoying the smoothness. It reminded him of the halcyon days of his childhood.

  It now seemed to him that he and Rudolph had spent more time on the beach than elsewhere, trolling along the shoreline with their mother, collecting seashells in little plastic buckets. Those moments featured amongst his fondest memories. Mom had died when he was only ten and Rudolph twelve, and the tragedy had shattered their lives. Ever since those innocent times he hadn’t really been able to enjoy life as much as he had then. He’d grown into a somber man. Some people had even described him as ornery and a real grinch.

  “She’s a wonderful young woman,” Rudolph said pensively, then quickly added, “And I mean that strictly in a brotherly way, of course.”

  Jack directed his gaze through the bay windows and let his eyes drift over the red-roofed houses of Montinia. “She’s…different, you know. Not like any woman I’ve ever met.”

  “You do realize she’s also the daughter of a well-known mobster, don’t you?”

  He looked up sharply. “Are you lecturing me now?”

  “Not at all. Just pointing out the facts. Your involvement with her will raise a lot of red flags. The media will be all over her.”

  Jack nodded. The House of Montinia had always been under great scrutiny. The two princes couldn’t move a finger or a picture appeared in the tabloids. Any woman they went out with was photographed, analyzed and written about ad nauseam. The idea of Diana going through all that made him sick to the stomach. Already pictures of her at the casino had appeared, and speculation had begun.

  “Her entire family will be put to the test,” Rudolph continued. “Her name will be dragged through the mud, and so will that of her family. Both of them,” he added when Jack opened his mouth to speak. “The Petrovs and the Gornakovs.”

  “It’s none of their fucking business,” he growled viciously.

  “Of course it isn’t, but that won’t stop them from writing about her.”

  “I like her,” Jack repeated stubbornly.

  “I know you do. Just…proceed carefully, all right?”

  He nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t like the realities of his situation but had learned to live with them. But could he demand the same from Diana? Could he really subject her and her family to this kind of scrutiny? The media could be brutal, and if they discovered who she really was, they might even crucify her.

  He simply couldn’t let that happen.

  CHAPTER 24

  King Francois opened his newspaper and almost spat out his morning coffee. Splashed above a picture of his son arm in arm with Diana Petrov was the headline ‘Bonnie & Jack: Mob Princess Snags Prince Charming’.

  As his jaw continued to drop, his eyes scanned the article. Apparently a ‘source close to the royal family’ had been blabbing to the press, feeding them the story of what had transpired. From Jack’s heroic salvation of the young ‘Mafia Princess’ to the terrorist’s announcement that she was, in fact, Yulian Gornakov’s sister and lawful heir to the vast criminal Gornakov fortune. In conclusion, the article replayed the scene, putting its readers in the ballroom when Jack had announced his engagement to the young woman.

  The king swallowed heavily, then slammed the table with his fist, sending cups and saucers and a piece of grilled halibut flying, and hollered, “Get me Armand!”

  Instantly, a liveried servant stuck his head in the door and nodded at the royal command.

  Then, realizing the old security expert was transferring his duties to Mike and Emily Petrov, he added, “And send for the Petrovs!”

  This was an outrage, pure and simple. The House of Montinia was now officially associated with Gornakov. When his eldest had shown an interest in Emily Fox, he’d tolerated the match, knowing full well tongues would wag and eyes would roll, but then he’d figured he could deal with the backlash.

  But Jack marrying into the Gornakov family? That was taking matters one step further. He still had the reputation of the House of Montinia to consider.

  Five minutes later, Armand, Mike and Emily joined him at the breakfast table. As soon as the trio walked in, he threw the paper in front of their noses, and exclaimed, “Well? What are you going to do about this?”

  They threw a quick glance at the article, then both Mike and Emily smiled. “This is great news, Your Highness. Congratulations!”

  His face clouded. “This is not great news! This has all the hallmarks of a major scandal! If this goes through, Montinia will be the laughing stock of the whole world!”

  Now it was Mike’s turn to look annoyed. “Are you saying my sister is not a good match for your son?” he asked icily.

  The king realized he’d overlooked the simple fact that this woman was Mike’s sister. He backpedaled. “I’m not saying anything of the kind,” he grumbled, fingering his bushy white beard. “All I’m saying is that this bond between the House of Montinia and the Gornakov family spells trouble. Big trouble!” He rose to his feet and moved to the window. He whirled around to face Mike. “I like your sister, Mike. She’s got spunk. Chutzpah. But you have to see this from my point of view. The Gornakov name is synonymous with Mafia.” He gestured wildly. “This will destroy us!”

  “Yulian Gornakov has gone through a great deal of trouble to dissociate himself from the tarnished reputation of his father,” Mike put in. “He’s made his business empire legit and is working with the FBI to clean up the more seedy aspects of the Gornakov organization.”

  The king nodded. “I’m well aware of that. But that still doesn’t mean associations won’t be made, most notably by the tabloid press.”

  “Since when have you allowed the tabloids to dictate policy, Your Highness?” Emily put in. “I thought it was the official line of the House of Montinia not to comment on or be swayed by the sensationalist press?”

  That was true, of course. Ever since he’d risen to the throne rumors had swirled and stories printed that were far from true. When his boys had reached the dating age, the press had made it a sport to hound them wherever they went, trying to figure out which women were sharing their beds. Now that Rudolph was finally hitched and Jack out of the picture due to his military career, he’d hoped the vultures would back off, and now this. He shook his head. “Keep an eye on Jack and his future bride for me, will you? I want to know what they’re doing and when they’re doing it, and I want to make sure the media doesn’t draw a bead on them.”

  “So you’ll allow the match?” asked Mike.

  He pondered this. He knew Jack had suffered a great deal when his mother had died, and had grown sullen and somber, his heart closed. If his youngest son really was in love, far be it from him to interfere. Still, he had the reputation of Montinia to consider. He made a decision. “I want them out of sight, both of them. The last thing I need is for them to become the center of a media feeding frenzy.”

  “Jack won’t like this,” Armand pointed out.

  “And neither will Diana,” Emily added.

  “I don’t care,” the king grumbled. “Put them both on a plane to some godforsaken island for all I care. I want them out of sight. We have enough to deal with without Jack traipsing around town with a ‘Mafia Princess’ in tow.”

  The aftermath of this hostage taking situation had caused major flak for the small kingdom. A large part of their revenue stemmed from tourism. Now that hostage takers had at
tacked the castle in broad daylight, tourism had taken a nosedive. Even the rich and famous, who loved to associate themselves with Montinia, were shaking their bejeweled heads and wondering what was going on in their beloved jet set paradise.

  All they needed now were associations with the Russian Mafia to complete the picture of a kingdom on the verge of a major collapse.

  “I think I have just the idea where to send them,” Armand said.

  The others turned to the old security expert, and the king noticed the man’s eyes twinkled, as they usually did when he was about to unleash one of his more harebrained yet brilliant ideas. Uh-oh.

  CHAPTER 25

  Diana stared out the airplane window at the sprawling city below. The pilot had initiated the landing procedure and in about five minutes they would touch down in Moscow. It was a first for her, though if the stories were true, and she had no reason to doubt them, she was actually returning to her place of birth.

  “We better get ready,” Jack said a little gruffly. Though he’d been eager to accept this mission, the prospect of traipsing around snowy Moscow in temperatures well below freezing point didn’t hold much appeal to the young prince. Diana could empathize. From the scorching heat of Iraq to the balmy clime of the Mediterranean and now the icy Russian winter was quite a change.

  “We’ll only be here for a bit,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. They’d both stocked up on winter clothing, and had their hats and gloves ready for the moment the doors opened and the first gust of cold wind hit them square in the face.

  Snow was swirling outside and the runway was covered with a blanket of white. She wondered if it was safe to land in this soup. But then Moscow was always like this in winter, so the pilot probably knew what he was doing.

  “I don’t like it,” Jack announced gruffly. “I don’t like it one bit. We should have brought more men. At least a dozen.”

  “We’ll be fine,” she told him soothingly. “No one even knows we’re coming.”

  They were traveling as Mr. and Mrs. Bonnie and Clyde Romanov, Armand’s idea of a joke. Diana hadn’t laughed. The press had been spitting out story after story speculating on their relationship, comparing them with the famous Bonnie and Clyde movie couple. Another favorite epithet was Prince Charming and the Mafia Princess. All the unwanted attention was getting to her, though most of all she felt bad for Jack and his family, being dragged through the mud like this, all because of her.

  She’d much rather have simply remained Diana Petrov of Brooklyn, instead of having to go through life as Anastasiya Gornakov. Her picture had appeared everywhere, reminding her of the movie Notting Hill, where Hugh Grant is suddenly thrust into the limelight because of his relationship with Julia Roberts.

  She wondered how Jack was coping with all of this. He hadn’t commented on the articles or the gossip but she knew it must be hard on him. After all, they were not a real couple. They were lovers, sure, but that’s as far as it went. She shared his bed, but not his heart.

  When Armand had first suggested the idea to them, she’d thought it was brilliant. Not only could they actively participate in the investigation, but they would be out of the public eye for a while, and she could be with Jack, finally sharing some much-needed quality time.

  Their mission, which they had readily accepted, was to interview Yuri Gornakov and discover how the hostage-takers had found out about the secret account. Armand had told them it was a long shot, but still had to be checked out. And who better to follow this line of investigation than Diana herself, assisted by her fierce soldier prince?

  Jack pulled on his wooly cap. He looked hot, Diana decided. For the occasion, he was rocking a mustache and beard, all courtesy of Armand. She’d opted not to disguise herself, her face not exactly world-famous, or at least not in this part of the world. And she figured that once she was decked out in cap and scarf no one would give her a second glance. Except Jack, who hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her throughout the flight.

  She had to confess to being more than a little nervous about meeting Yuri. Mike had told her the man was so far gone they’d be hard pressed to get anything sensible out of him.

  The former mobster had suffered a mental breakdown a little while back, and both he and his brother had been admitted to a psychiatric hospital by Yulian.

  When contacted, Yulian had agreed to grant her access, but had warned her to curb her expectations. Yuri was heavily sedated these days, and barely lucid.

  The plane touched down, and Diana’s heart skipped a beat. But then the brakes kicked in, and the plane slowly reduced speed and trundled along the runway at a leisurely clip. She heaved a sigh of relief.

  Jack gave her a cocky grin. He’d held her hand throughout. “Told you we wouldn’t crash and burn.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. She didn’t mind flying, but hated this kind of weather. “You were right.”

  “I’m always right,” he returned arrogantly.

  Now it was her turn to grin. “I don’t know about that, Your Highness.”

  He pressed a finger to his lips. “Just Clyde will do, honey.”

  She regarded him with smiling eyes. “All right…husband.”

  “Come here…wife,” he growled, and captured her lips with his.

  For a moment she forgot all about the frosty weather and the prospect of meeting her father, and felt a hot flush settling on her cheeks. Then he took the kiss deeper, and she melted against him, their tongues dueling fiercely. Suddenly she felt as if this were their honeymoon, and as her breath quickened she couldn’t wait until they arrived at the hotel. She had a feeling this mission would turn out a lot more exciting than anticipated.

  CHAPTER 26

  Jack didn’t like this one bit. They’d driven straight from the airport to the hotel, the driving snow not fazing the taxi driver as he raced along at breakneck speed along the boulevards heading into Moscow. The capital of Russia spread out to their left as they zoomed along a crowded lane, and he was surprised to find so much traffic still on the roads in spite of worsening weather conditions.

  Probably the people in this city were used to this. The only snow he’d ever seen was when he went skiing with his family in St. Moritz or Gstaad.

  He preferred the heat to the cold, and sat in moody silence. Moscow was mainly a business capital, most of the buildings nondescript and blocky as they rose dark and ominous against the night sky. Only the fabled Kremlin spires and domes provided something on which the eye could truly feast.

  Diana gripped his arm, and he was pleased to find her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s visit the Kremlin,” she whispered, her breath hanging in the air like a wispy cloud.

  He smiled and pulled her against him. Soon they’d be at the hotel and could discuss their itinerary. Even though he hated for her to be exposed to these temperatures, she didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he’d noticed that ever since they’d arrived she was alive with an excitement that lit up her features and made her more beautiful than ever.

  Perhaps this was her natural habitat after all? Could it be that in her heart of hearts she was a Moscow girl? That the cold became her? This was, after all, the place where she was born. And to return here meant a great deal to her. He was simply glad he got to enjoy this unique moment with her.

  They finally reached the heart of Moscow, the high rises dwarfing traffic as the taxi crept along the busy streets. He pressed her close to him as they both watched the city grow bright and boisterous with people milling on the sidewalks, the shops as impressive as any you could find in Montinia.

  The taxi rolled to a stop in front of the canopied entrance of The Cornucopia Hotel. The taxi driver hauled their suitcases from the trunk as they hurried through the revolving doors and were greeted by Christmas carols booming over the hotel’s sound system and what could possibly be the single largest Christmas tree he’d ever seen adorning a hotel lobby.

  “Oh, Jack,” Diana exclaimed when she caught sight of the tre
e soaring to the ceiling, abundantly bedecked with lights, tinsel and decorations, “perhaps we could stay here and celebrate the New Year in Moscow?”

  He pressed a kiss to her brow. “Sure, why not?” he found himself responding, though he knew he probably had obligations back in Montinia.

  Her eyes widened with excitement, like a child just having been granted its Christmas wish. “Can we? Can we really?”

  “Of course,” he said. “We can do whatever we want.” As long as she was by his side, he didn’t care where he was. She could have taken him to the North Pole for all he cared. As long as they were together, he didn’t mind the conditions. As he eyed her intently, he decided that if he didn’t have her right this minute, he would die from engorgement of the cock. She looked so hot and fuckable right now that he couldn’t wait to take her upstairs and straight to bed.

  Check-in went smoothly, the fake documents Armand had provided them with holding up to hotel scrutiny, and then they were riding the elevator with a freckled young bellhop. The elevator was one of those open contraptions, a wall of glass providing a view of the lobby and that gigantic Christmas tree. As they rose, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, expressing her gratitude. He felt his cock straining, hard as a rock as he dove into all that sweetness and softness, all his misgivings about this trip instantly wiped from his mind.

  They followed the bellhop into their room. The young man was grinning, the sight of the two young lovers clearly enchanting him. The suitcases were lugged inside, and then Diana was darting around the large suite, and diving into the double bed. He saw that hotel management had placed a bucket of champagne at their disposal. A small present for the newlyweds and a nice touch.

  The bellhop got the huge tip he’d been hoping for and retreated with a wide grin on his youthful face.

  And he’d just turned to join Diana in bed, their eyes meeting in anticipation, when a soft knock sounded.