by Bex Dane
Torrez (Men of Siege Book Three) © 2019 by Bex Dane.
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Published by Larken Romance
First Edition June 2019
Cover by Elizabeth Mackey Designs
Torrez (Men of Siege Book Three)
Torrez the bull.
A beast in bed.
An ass in real life.
Soraya
When Torrez walked into the palace, I couldn't stop staring.
Tall, confident, sexy. And those gorgeous eyes...
So when I had the chance, I risked it all and spent one glorious night with him.
I wanted him to be my hero.
Instead I messed with the bull and got the horns.
Right through my heart.
Torrez
I called Soraya a cheater and left her broken.
Biggest mistake of my life.
She was my dream girl. I just didn't see it.
To make it right, I'll have to use all my SEAL training to help her escape.
Running for our lives isn't the best way to start a relationship, but if we survive, it'll all be worth it.
Because she'll be mine.
Torrez is a standalone novel in the Men of Siege series. If you like enemies to lovers and crazy fun road trips, you'll love Torrez.
Looking for a weekend read? Hit the road with Torrez.
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Contents
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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"The best way out is always through." — Robert Frost
Chapter 1
Veranistaad, Central Asia
Torrez
Eight million dollars.
Six months of back-breaking work.
All of it balanced on this moment.
If Cecelia didn't show up at tonight's event, this entire project was for shit. Oh, the cool three mil the prince had just deposited in my bank account would still be mine, but Zook would go berserk and I'd lose my best worker. Not just a worker, a friend and brother. I may have given up on true love and all that jazz, but Zook believed he and Cecelia were soulmates. And I loved the kid. Couldn't let him down.
The lights dimmed. The crowd stilled. And Fasul, the short Veranistaadian man who had acted as our interpreter for this build, climbed the stairs to the stage.
"Valued guests, welcome to the evening all of Veranistaad has been waiting for. Let the celebration commence with the presentation of the bride to the groom!"
Zook stood rigid next to me, his eyes scanning the exits of the palace. A palace he and I had built for Prince Maksim Sharshinbaev, the wealthiest oil mogul in Central Asia. His net worth valued in the billions, rivaled only by the oil giants in Saudi, many of which waited in this room tonight for the arrival of the bride to the wedding celebration.
Prince Maksim, with his skin as greasy as his hair, waited on his throne, overseeing the festivities like his dad was already dead. Which he wasn't. His father, King Ivan, sat next to his son on a raised stage constructed at one end of the ballroom. King Ivan didn't look anywhere near croaking either. Maksim would have a long wait to get promoted to the big chair next to his. I chuckled thinking of Maksim's frustration with his father's longevity.
Two other men sat on gilded thrones next to Maksim. His brothers, I assumed. Pavel and Yegor.
From what I could make out of security at this gig, at least six concealed-carry guards mingled in this room. Another three outside. Not good odds against the two of us, Zook being unskilled in close-quarters combat. The shooting range and the street fighting he learned in prison made up the extent of his experience. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Zook would convince her to leave, and we'd get her out quietly.
Fasul repeated his introduction in two languages besides English before he motioned to the string quartet in the corner. They played classical music or some shit.
The girl walked out, her tiny body engulfed in the most extravagant, over the top wedding dress I'd ever seen. She looked like a princess whose fairy godmother was high on crack when she barfed up that spectacle of glitter and lace.
She stopped and stood beside Pavel. A young bride. Makeup and jewels couldn't hide the fact the girl was barely legal. Of course the definition of "legal" varied between Veranistaad and the States. But she looked to be sixteen tops. And terrified. Her smile fell awkwardly over teeth bared far too wide to be genuine.
When the applause died, Fasul continued. "Next, please welcome the wife of Prince Yegor Sharshinbaev, back from a long stay in America to finish her master's degree from Hale, Princess Soramina."
Zook crossed his arms and widened his stance. He glared at the stage from under the brim of his hat. As Princess Soramina stepped onto the stage, the crowd applauded and Prince Yegor beamed at her. Understandable. Princess Soramina Sharshinbaev was heart-stoppingly stunning. She made me want to smile, and I didn't even know her.
Not nearly as young as Pavel's bride. Probably in her late twenties. A scarlet dress covered in sequins hugged her womanly curves. The front dipped down in a dangerous V, revealing tempting round cleavage. Her sable hair was pulled up into a bun of woven braids at the top of her head. A royal crown surrounded the big ball like Saturn's rings. Stark black lines on her eyes and severe red lips gave her the look of a porcelain Geisha. She carried the air of sexuality of a Japanese courtesan as well. Everything about her emphasized the importance of her beauty.
Zook leaned in to whisper harshly in my ear. "That was Cecelia's roommate at Hale. She went by Soraya." Excellent. Our first sign of a link to Cecelia in six months.
As Soraya moved into position beside, and slightly behind, Yegor, her heel caught on her dress and she stumbled forward. My hands came up reflexively to catch her. Yegor flinched and stepped back. Coward. Can't offer help to your wife when she trips? Luckily, she recovered and regained her balance. Yegor sent her a warning glance and pinched her elbow in what was meant to appear supportive, but was obviously a punishment for embarrassing him. What a douchebag.
"Also back from the States after earning her master's degree, please welcome the wife of Prince Maksim Sharshinbaev, Princess Celiana."
Hell yes. If Celiana is Cecelia, we got her.
Zook turned to stone next to me. He stared down the beautiful princess as she took her place on the stage beside Maksim. She was the subtler twin of Soraya. Her hair, a lighter brown than Soraya's, was also piled on top of her head and surrounded by a gaudy crown. Cecelia's dress showed less cleavage, the color subdued hues of blue and green. All my thoughts about Soraya disappeared at the sight of Zook's girl. The reason we stood in this palace today.
And now we knew the truth. Cecelia was married.
To the most egotistical tyrant I'd ever met. And I'd worked with a bunch of the world's finest assholes. Never met a narcissist like Maksim Sharshinbaev.
As the voices and clapping quieted and the music picked up again, Cecelia made eye contact with Zook. He stared her down and she proceeded to lose her shit, her painted face twisting and melting. Maksim caught sight of her and his smile faltered. With deep furrows in his brow, he rushed Cecelia off the back of the stage.
"Fucking hell." Zook stepped toward them.
I grabbed his arm and he paused to look at me. "Take it easy."
"I can't fucking take it easy. He's going to hurt her." He spoke through gritted teeth.
"Stick to the plan. You go in now and reveal yourself, everything is shot to shit. We'll never get her out of here."
"Change in plans. We're leaving right fucking now." His muscles tensed, and his eyes tracked Maksim emerging from behind the stage, alone.
"Calm the fuck down. You go back there all fired up and cause a scene, he'll have her gone to some other palace in a split second. It'll take you another year to find her."
Soraya glanced at the unfolding events with a practiced smile plastered to her face. She stood behind the new bride, greeting guests with ease and charm. Only the few small twitches of her eyebrows gave any hint of concern for Cecelia. When Maksim returned to the stage, she didn't spare him a blink or a nod to acknowledge him.
Zook grimaced at me over his shoulder. "Fuck! You're right. Goddamn. I have no self-control right now. None."
"Go cool down. We'll gather more intel and formulate a plan to get her out."
"Fine."
Oh shit. He did not mean that at all. "You're going back there right now. Aren't you?"
"Of course. She's alone. I need to find out the truth. She doesn't love that asshole."
"We don't have enough information at this point. If you can convince her to leave, tell her we need to wait for the right moment to strike. She should sit tight and don't let anything on to Maksim."
He nodded, but it was a quick nod to get me to shut up. He had no intention to follow my advice. He strode toward the curtain that led behind the stage.
The entire ten minutes Zook spent in the back with Cecelia, I studied Soraya. She moved in a sultry way. Specifically the movement of her ass. The gown hugged her curves like a gourmet buffet. She kept a close enough distance to Yegor to say she was with him. Her smile would appear natural to the crowd, yet she held her neck and shoulders painfully stiff.
Zook returned from behind the curtain, his face red. He took a deep breath to school his features, but his labored breathing gave him away. Maksim didn't appear to notice Zook at all.
Cecelia came out next. She straightened her neck and swept her gown to the side with her hand. Graceful. Covering whatever happened between them like a seasoned con artist.
Maksim grinned and made his way over to us with Cecelia, Yegor, and Soraya in tow.
"Princess Celiana, Princess Soramina, and Prince Yegor. These are the American contractors who constructed this palace for you. Zook Guthrie and Torrez Lavonte."
It still irked me we'd used our real names, but we needed the credibility. My connections to Dubare most likely helped us win this job. Scumbags liked to stick together.
Zook and Cecelia exchanged a tension-filled nod. I met Soraya's gaze. She smiled a seductive grin, and her long dark lashes flitted down slowly, then open again.
Whoa. Did I imagine that? Was she flirting with me? Or was Yegor's wife just exceptionally friendly?
"Are you in the market for a wife?" Yegor asked me.
Oh shit. "Me? No. Not looking for a wife. Divorced."
"Ahh. If you change your mind, let me know." Yegor talked about women like a used car salesman, ulterior motives gleaming in his eyes. "We have exceptional women here as you can see." He pointed to Soraya.
Holy hell. "I see."
She tilted her chin and spread her lips slightly, her tongue sneaking out to lick the middle of her plush lower lip. Yes, clearly flirting with me. Her signal came through loud and clear, regardless of her husband standing less than two feet away.
I'd never met Yegor before and his first words to me offered me a wife? His wife?
Yegor watched as Maksim smiled and waved his hand in front of Cecelia like I could have her too if the dollars met the mark.
Something was way off here. Why would two foreign princes be interested in marrying a woman off to me? I wasn't in oil. I had a lucrative construction business and some Mafia ties that might interest them, but nothing about me would benefit them financially or socially.
"If you'll excuse me," Zook said. Oh yeah, the way Maksim motioned toward Cecelia would send him over the edge. He pivoted on his heel and walked stiffly away from the group.
"Pleasure to meet you." I nodded in the general direction of Soraya and followed Zook to the foyer.
"Fuck this shit." Zook paced in the hallway, speaking way too loud.
I stepped over to him and kept my voice low, a reminder to him to do the same. "What happened behind the stage?"
He stopped pacing and glared at me. "She sent me away. Told me to go."
Damn.
"She was terrified. Afraid we'd get caught. I need to get her alone and talk to her. She doesn't love him. Did you hear the way they talked about her?"
I did. Something was definitely off, but I couldn't put my finger on it. The royal family was either absurdly proud or beyond dysfunctional. We needed more intel before we could act. "We found her. Next we need to observe the schedules so you can get time alone with her. Hold your shit together and be smart right now."
"Smart?" He blew out a long breath. "I'll work on it." He started pacing again, his shoulders tight.
Right. Smart. Not a good word to use around Zook. "Play your role. If you can stand it, talk to Maksim more. Try acting like you're interested in a wife and see what he offers you." Maybe Maksim would offer Cecelia to Zook, and we could leave with her free and clear.
He shook his head. "I can't do that. The best I can do is not kill him in front of all these people."
I had to chuckle. Good to acknowledge your limits. "Alright. Go with that then. Don't blow our cover. Get through the party. I'll pump Soraya for info." She seemed quite pliable. "Remember, wait for the right time to strike. When they least expect it."
"I'll try." He nodded, and I sensed my warnings penetrated his haze better than earlier, but I still doubted his self-restraint in this situation.
We returned to the party and he took a place off to the side, leaning against the wall. His gaze locked on Cecelia and Maksim, who had returned to sit at their thrones on the stage. Not subtle, but luckily, Maksim was so self-absorbed, he didn't take note.
***
"Tasting the local delicacies?" A female voice approached me from behind as I grabbed a rolled cut of beef from a buffet table.
To my left, Soraya's champagne flute sparkled in the light as she dipped it into a stream from a fountain. A quick glance around showed Yegor chatting with a group of men across the room, Maksim and Cecelia still on the stage next to Ivan.
I bit into the beef and met Soraya's gaze. Big hopeful globes of dark chocolate and caramel swirls looked back at me. I felt… pressure. Not only to get information out of her, but like she expected something of me. She was so enchantingly stunning, I wanted to give it to her too, whatever it was. Odd.
As she leaned closer, her aristocratic facade melted and a Cheshire cat smile grew on her face. "Why are you here?" She spoke under her breath.
"Built this place." She knew this already.
"But Zook's here for Cecelia, right?"
She spoke in an American accent, but I couldn't place the region. The way she said Zook didn't rhyme with book. Her vowels were exaggerated almost like a Southern belle, but this girl was the furthest thing from the South I'd ever seen. I chewed my last bite of beef as I scanned the room to make sure no one was watching us. A few eyes pass
ed over us, but didn't stop. I swallowed the food in my mouth. Tasted good. "We can't talk here."
"It's romantic. Isn't it?" She continued to talk even though I'd told her not to. "A man chasing his woman down to make things right."
"You keep yappin', everything could go wrong in seconds." The censure in my tone made it clear she was being stupid.
That got her attention. She stepped back and her spine went straight, the smile wiped from her face. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. "Shall we talk in the garden?"
I shook my head slightly. "Too many guards."
She nodded and leaned over the table, reaching for a pastry on the far end. Her backside looked bodacious covered in blood-red sequins. "Come to my bedroom." She gave me crazy eyes over her shoulder.
If she meant to be seductive, it came off as goofy and demented. Still, my dick twitched. Ballsy, kooky, and sexy always did it for me. Exactly my type. "You want me to come to your room? What about Yegor?"
She straightened and glanced at him. "He'll go out drinking with Pavel and Maksim. It is tradition. He won't return before morning."
"And the guards?"
"Only one will stay in the palace. The others will go to their homes. Oleg will sleep until his daytime shift begins."
As I had suspected, Soraya was a willing informant and readily provided valuable info. I'd text it to Zook ASAP.
"Which room is yours?"
"Second master suite on the third floor." She pinched the pastry between her thumb and forefinger and held it near her lips.
I knew where that was and how to access it. "After the party, I'll come to your room."
"How will you get in?" She shoved the pastry in her mouth, flakes sticking to her scarlet lipstick. Her fingertip pushed the bits in as she stared at me, waiting for my answer.
Couldn't hide my grin. The girl was a hot mess of naïve, funny, and aggressive. "Leave your window unlocked. Can you do that?"
"Yes." She nodded quickly. "But how will you get to my window?"
"I'm a SEAL."
Her brow scrunched together. "A marine mammal with flippers?"
