“Eat before your food gets cold,” she admonished, although given the heat in his gaze, she suspected nothing was going to get cold anytime soon.
…
The morning had gone well, Peter thought, although he had some lingering concerns about that vulnerable time as the jewels were moved from one area to the next. The armored cart they had brought made it difficult to do a smash-and-grab of any of the jewels, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t just grab the entire cart, heavy as it was.
But he didn’t believe they’d be taking everything, just a select few of the pieces. Which meant that maybe it would happen in the dressing area. Selectivity had been their M.O. during all of the thefts. From the first incident where they had stolen a necklace but left behind other valuable jewelry, to the latest robbery at the museum, only specific pieces had been targeted. They’d do the same here.
But that also meant one other thing. Peter had missed something. Something big. Motive.
Why had the Thief of Hearts and his gang only gone after certain jewels? Even assuming they’d been hired to do the jobs, there was a reason the person who’d hired them wanted these particular items. They were too similar not to have a single person behind the thefts.
Figure out the connection, and Peter could solve the crime before it was even committed. But for now, he drove that thought away to keep it from distracting his surveillance of the casino. At a leisurely place, he strolled from one place to the next, snapping photos with the cheap point-and-shoot camera he had purchased at a small shop a few blocks away. Together with his jeans and an Atlantic City T-shirt beneath a faded denim jacket, he hoped his look and actions screamed tourist.
After meandering through all the shops on the lower level, and lingering possibly a bit too long on the floors beneath the ballrooms and amphitheater, which earned him some hairy eyebrows and pointed requests from the security staff about whether he needed anything, he headed to the floor above the lobby level. He sauntered from one gaming salon to the next, calculating where the possible areas of interest would be to a thief. The gaming tables and activity in those areas made it next to impossible for someone to break through into the space below.
The gaming salons were far different from those in Atlantic City. The people were more reserved and the noise likewise more subdued. While there were quite a number of patrons, there wasn’t the feel of the rush and hubbub that occurred back home.
After his walk through the last gaming salon, he was satisfied he had eliminated one possible vulnerability. He returned to the main floor and did another loop past the ballroom and amphitheater. As requested, Tony had beefed up security in the passageway between the two. When he lingered too long by the ballroom, one of the guards came over and politely asked, “May I help you in any way?”
Peter played it up for the man, wanting to assess the quality of the people Tony had hired. “I’m not sure. I thought I was supposed to be in that ballroom—” he said, and stepped toward where the jewels would be displayed.
The guard discreetly moved to block his way and politely said, “I’m sorry, sir. But that area is closed to the public right now. We’re setting up an exhibit.”
“Thanks. I guess I was wrong,” Peter said, and walked away. But as he did so, he listened carefully and heard the guard calling in to ask that someone monitor Peter’s movements.
Good job, he thought, and continued with his surveillance.
…
Tatiana spun back and forth in front of the full-length bedroom mirror, wondering if the silver grey cocktail dress she’d picked out was a tad too much. But then again, she and Peter were going “somewhere nice.”
A princess had to look respectable, right?
Which meant setting aside the staid pearls for teardrop diamond earrings and a three carat teardrop diamond pendant. She clipped on the necklace and the diamond nestled comfortably into the cleavage revealed by the deep V of the gown she wore, which left her bare down to the ruched empire waist.
He’d certainly look, but not at the diamond, Tatiana thought with a knowing smile. She finished by adding a diamond tennis bracelet and a diamond ring on her index finger. No doubt she’d have the gossips talking if they saw it on either of her ring fingers.
No matter that Peter was the one her parents wished her to marry, she still wasn’t prepared for a step like that. Not unless and until she knew more about the man to whom she was so attracted. A man who had secrets yet to reveal. Secrets which kept her from fully committing to a relationship with him. Plus, if truth be told, the fact that her parents had chosen him had her a little freaked out and maybe she was just a little too stubborn to just give in and admit they might have made a good choice.
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t explore the desire simmering between them.
She grabbed a wrap in deep charcoal grey and headed into the living room, but stopped short at the sight of him.
He was wearing dangerous black all over. From his tie and shirt to the elegant wool tuxedo, he was swathed in darkness and he looked amazing.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, approached, and slipped his hand into hers.
She smoothed her hand over the satin lapel of the dinner jacket. “You’re…lethal,” she said with a choked laugh, unafraid of admitting just how devastatingly handsome she found him. Savoring the flush of color that spread across his cheeks at her compliment.
“If anyone is deadly, it’s you, Tatiana. I’m almost afraid to ask you to turn around,” he said, and with gentle pressure had her do a little swirl.
…
Peter groaned at the expanse of creamy skin exposed by the non-existent back of the gown. He trailed the back of his hand down the flawless line of her spine and stopped at the small of her back. “Definitely deadly,” he said, although as she faced him full-on once more, it was possible the front of the gown was even more dangerous to his peace of mind. So was the immense teardrop diamond nestled between the generous curves of her breasts.
“We should go to dinner,” he said, because he was just way too tempted to brush aside the satiny silver fabric and have her as an appetizer.
“We should,” she echoed, and they quickly made their way down to the main lobby and the hotel’s five-star restaurant where he had made the reservation.
As they walked in, almost every head in the room turned to follow their passage to a far table in the room. A low murmur of excitement commenced. The table was set aside slightly from the other nearby patrons, providing them a modicum of privacy, and he wondered if he shouldn’t have arranged for a private room as Tony had two nights ago.
Apparently sensing his concern, she said, “Don’t worry. You get used to the attention.”
With a regal coolness worthy of admiration, she smiled and sat down with her back to the crowd. The chatter which had started upon her entry slowly died down.
He wrestled down his apology, sensing she wouldn’t appreciate it. But he should have known better. He remembered many an awkward meal with his mother and father while all eyes had been on them. It was that lack of privacy, in large part, which had led him to his current life.
It reminded him that entering her world on a more permanent basis would once again rob him of the privacy that was so important to him.
That realization dimmed the joy of the meal. Apparently for both of them, for when the waiter brought around dessert, she passed on it.
“Are you okay?” he asked, but when he met her gaze, the answer was obvious.
“What do you think?” she responded abruptly, but then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”
But it was, he thought with a wince. “I should have been more careful about my choice.”
“I’ve forgotten what it’s like on this side of the pond. I’ve gotten spoiled in Atlantic City.”
He had gotten spoiled as well. While the Americans loved their royals, there wasn’t the same kind of stalking and gawking that occurred on this side of the Atlan
tic. “How about we just go back to the room and have dessert?”
The first glimmer of a smile skipped across her lips and the color of her eyes deepened to an almost sapphire blue. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”
He coughed and forced himself to tamp down the erection that jumped to life at the thought of what they had done the night before. “I believe you craved some chocolate.”
“I did, but you wanted to get lucky…at roulette, right?” she said with a wink. “We only have a few more days here and I’d hate to deprive you of that experience. We have excellent roulette tables here at the casino.”
She was acting as if they could be two normal people having a fun night out, and he wasn’t going to spoil what she was trying to do. “I’d like that.”
He signaled to the waiter to bring the check, but the man glanced at Tatiana, doubting the request. At her nod, the waiter stepped away and returned with the tab. He slipped the waiter his credit card and after he had finished paying, he rose and held out his hand to her.
“Want to be my lucky charm tonight?”
“I don’t know how lucky I’ll be, but I’ll do my best.” She slipped her hand into his and led him from the restaurant to the largest of the gambling salons on the main floor. An assortment of gaming tables and slot machines filled the large space.
“Let’s do the European roulette wheel. The odds are better there,” she said. They walked arm-in-arm through the area. In here the patrons were more interested in their games than a princess, although every now and then someone looked their way. Invariably, that look was chased by excited chatter as that gambler alerted another about Tatiana’s presence. But as she had before, she handled the attention with elegant aplomb.
“Why are the odds better?” he asked. They approached one table where there were a few open seats. The minimum stake at the table was five Euros, well within his limits. He wasn’t much of gambler, but it was fun on occasion.
“There’s only one zero, which improves the odds.”
They sat down together and he peeled about three hundred Euros from his money clip and purchased chips, asking for the navy blue ones that were not in use.
“To match your eyes,” he told her and the croupier handed him the stacks of chips.
She smiled, obviously pleased with his choice, and leaned into him.
The croupier called out, “Faites vos jeux.”
Peter quickly placed his bets, laying out chips to split some numbers, select a row of another, and then finally put down straight bets on the eight and twenty-seven.
“You bet my numbers,” she said with surprise.
“Your birthday,” he replied as the croupier waved his hand across the wheel and said, “Rien ne va plus.”
The little white ball did another few loops around the wheel before plunking loudly into the slot for twenty-seven.
“You won!” she cried, her voice filled with excited glee as she playfully nudged his arm.
“You are my lucky charm.” He grinned. A second croupier paid out his win and then cleaned the table of all losing bets.
He placed another round of bets and won on one of the splits, accumulating another stack of chips. He was laying out his third set of bets when a waitress came over with flutes of champagne and said, “Compliments of the management.”
Tatiana took a swig of the champagne, giggled, and said, “I feel like I’m on a busman’s holiday.”
“Holidays are always good, busman’s or not.” He sipped his champagne a little more carefully, not wanting to lose his head—and his money. Together they placed an assortment of wagers and the pile in front of him grew steadily, earning a jealous glance from one man who said, “Heureux au jeu, malheureux en amour, monsieur.”
Tatiana tensed beside him at the man’s assertion that his luck didn’t extend to love, but Peter merely grinned and glanced at her as he replied, “Au contraire, je suis très chanceux en amour.”
Tatiana smiled, but narrowed her eyes to examine him. “So you speak French?”
“I told you there were a great many things you don’t know about me.”
“Je vois. Je suis impatient de découvrir plus,” she replied, and skimmed her fingers through his hair.
“I’m looking forward to the discovery as well, Tatochka.”
They played for another hour, winning more times than not. His stacks of chips grew ever higher, creating a wall of deep blue before them.
“It looks like your lucky streak might last all night,” said an American who’d slipped into the last empty spot about half an hour before. The man had been copying Peter’s moves, reaping his own rewards from Peter’s luck.
He smiled at the guy as he hit on twenty-seven again and the croupier moved another stack of chips in his direction. “Definitely looks that way.”
But then Tatiana leaned close enough that the heat of her breath spilled against the side of his face. She whispered in his ear, “Unless you’d rather get lucky somewhere else.”
He met her gaze, and there was no denying what she wanted.
What he wanted as well, despite every well-intentioned bone in his body that said he should wait until he’d told her everything about who he was and why he had chosen a life in hiding. He’d tell her when the time was right.
Which wasn’t now.
He crooked his finger at the croupier. “I’m cashing out.”
Chapter 13
Tatiana couldn’t contain the smile as Peter fumbled with the brass key trying to open the door to the suite.
She laid her hand on his and said, “Let me.”
With a quick twist of the heavy key in the lock, the door opened, and he held it for her as she walked in.
He locked it behind them and stuffed his hands in his pockets, as if not trusting himself. He rocked back and forth on his heels, obviously unsure. “Were you serious about what you said at the table?”
“Have you ever known me not to be serious?” she asked, and put a sexy little roll in her hips. She tossed off her wrap and walked toward him.
He gulped and his gaze drifted down to the diamond nestled between her breasts.
“That’s a dangerous bauble, but I guess you know that, don’t you?”
She grinned and lifted the pendant, letting it swing between her breasts. “This little thing?” she teased.
He growled and closed the distance between them in two steps. “You’re playing with fire, Tatochka,” he said, and grabbed hold of the pendant. He applied gentle pressure on it to draw her near, but even as he did so, he slipped his free hand beneath the dress to cradle her breast.
“You are so lovely, solnyshko moyo,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
She was as needy, but despite her earlier teasing, she realized she wanted more from him than she ever had from any other man. “Please tell me this isn’t just about sex, Peter.”
“It isn’t just sex, Tatiana. It could never be just about that with you,” he said earnestly.
“Will you make love to me, Peter?” she asked shyly, as her earlier bravado fled in the face of the commitment they were about to make to one another.
Peter swept her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom, where he gently lowered her to her feet by the bed. He undid the clasp on her top and the silk fluttered downward, exposing her full breasts with tightly puckered tips. Reverently he cupped them and swiped his thumbs across the sensitive tips.
“You can’t imagine how beautiful you are to me. How perfect,” he said. A bright stain of color erupted across her breasts and heat flooded her face.
She covered herself, hiding from his gaze, but he tenderly eased her hands away. “You never have to be embarrassed with me, Tatochka.”
“I want to see you, too,” she said and brushed off his suit jacket, but hesitated. She had revealed the shoulder harness beneath with his deadly weapon. He quickly shucked it off and laid it on the nightstand, but she couldn’t help recalling her concerns that in his profession he risk
ed his life on a regular basis. That he might be risking his life now for her and her family.
“Don’t think about that,” he urged, seeming to read her thoughts.
She heeded his request and yanked off his tie before she worked on the buttons of his shirt. As soon as the last one was undone, he jerked off the shirt and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close until the tips of her breasts brushed the hairs on his chest.
“Are you protected?” he murmured. “If not, I have—”
“Yes. We’re good,” she whispered, reached between them and skimmed her hand across his flesh, exploring the dips and valleys of his muscles. He bent his head and licked the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder as she fingered his nipple, circling it until it pebbled beneath her caress.
“That feels amazing.” She cradled his head with her other hand and he sucked her neck a little harder, experiencing the primal need to mark her, but pulling back from that edge. With a gentler lick, he urged her toward the bed and as her knees hit the mattress, they tumbled down onto the surface, laughing as they did so.
They rolled on the bed playfully, clothes flying off in their haste until they were lying there naked, tangled together. And then there was no holding back.
With kiss after kiss, desire grew as they explored each other with their hands and mouths. Sought out those places that made each of them cry out or shiver with need.
Tatiana was shaking, on the edge, as Peter suckled at her breasts and caressed her core with sure, insistent strokes.
“Please, Peter,” she said, urging him ever closer and he shifted to cover her. He guided himself to her center, where with one smooth move, he surged into her, then held still when she tensed beneath him. “You’re so tight, so warm and wet,” he murmured. “But I don’t want to hurt you.” Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he gazed into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes.” She dragged in a rough breath and even that small movement had her insides clenching around him, she was so close to release. But she wanted him to fly with her, so she reached down to tweak his nipple. She brought her mouth to his and whispered, “I want you to come with me, Peter. I want to come together.”
To Catch a Princess (Entangled Ignite) Page 11
