His big body shuddered over hers and he groaned. “Together,” he said, and kissed her. Finally he moved his hips, retreating from her before plunging back in. His movements were steady at first, but grew more erratic as their climax rose in perfect unison until, with one final stroke, he took them over the edge.
…
Tatiana nestled against the warmth of Peter’s body. Her thigh was tossed over his legs and there was a pleasant soreness at her center when they awoke the next morning.
She couldn’t remember how many times they had made love the night before.
All she knew was that he had kept his promise time and time again, leaving her breathless and wanting more each and every time.
Even now, just thinking about it was making her wet, and she squirmed, eliciting a chuckle from him.
“Solnyshko moyo, you’re insatiable,” he said, but despite that he was rolling over to trap her beneath his body. Against her thigh, his erection came to life.
“I am,” she confessed with an almost strangled laugh, but then added, “Only, I’m a little…um, tender.”
His wicked grin held the promise of satisfaction. “I guess I’ll just have to kiss it and make it better.”
She shivered and he moved down her body, trailing a line of kisses down her front until he was at her navel. He paused there to give it some extra attention, dipping his tongue into the slight indentation before shifting another few inches lower. He paused at the edge of her dark, soft curls.
Wet drenched her in anticipation, but the moment was shattered by the shrill chirp and beeps of their cell phones along with the hotel phone.
“What the—” Peter jumped out of bed and checked his caller ID while answering the house phone.
“Princess Tatiana, it’s Tony. I suggest you go to the door and collect the envelope that’s being delivered.”
Peter glanced at Tatiana who mouthed, “It’s my parents.” Their angry voices carried loudly from the speaker on her cell phone.
His own phone still hadn’t stopped chirping, and a quick look at the caller ID warned that Alexander was on the line. His stomach churned since the sudden plethora of calls could not be about anything good.
“Alexander, what’s wrong?” he asked even as he rushed to the front door of the suite, threw it open, and snatched the envelope from the surprised guard.
“What the fuck is going on, Peter? Have you seen this morning’s Daily Gamble?” Alexander bit into the phone.
“Who even reads that rag?” Peter said, although the sick feeling in his stomach only intensified when he opened the envelope. Inside was a copy of the tabloid with front page photos of Tatiana and him on the balcony. There had been nothing going on, but with the photos of them close together and then walking into her bedroom, it seemed as if they had been caught in a compromising position. The story had more pictures of the two of them at dinner, accompanied by an assortment of lurid captions about what was happening between them.
“It’s not what you think, Sasha.” Or at least it hadn’t been before last night.
“Please tell me you didn’t violate my trust, Peter.”
The slam of the door pulled his attention to where Tatiana stood in her robe, her arms wrapped around herself as if they were the only things holding her together. Her face was devoid of color.
“I can’t talk now, Alexander. I’ll call you later,” he said, and ended the call.
“My parents are insisting we marry immediately to avoid any more scandal. They want to know why we weren’t more cautious about being caught together in such a private moment.”
Hands outstretched in pleading, he approached her. “Nothing was going on. Besides, we couldn’t have known that someone would be snapping photos, Tatochka.”
She slashed her hand through the air angrily. “We should have been more careful. We knew someone was watching us the other night. We knew that!”
“We’re entitled to our private lives. It’s why I decided to lose Grand Prince Pyotr and become who I am.”
She glared at him. “That’s not the only reason. There’s more to it than just privacy. But oh, yeah. You won’t tell me. Won’t even give me a clue as to why you hide who you are.”
How the hell had she changed the subject so quickly? Peter held up the tabloid. “Isn’t this reason enough?”
She shook her head vehemently. “No, it isn’t, Peter. It’s bad enough you made me care about a man who doesn’t really exist. I need to know what else you’re hiding and why you can’t trust me even though you expect me to trust you.”
She cared for him?
He took hope from that and once again tried to explain. “I do exist. This is the real me standing right here. All I’m asking is for you to believe that I’d never keep something from you that would hurt you.”
“I can’t believe, Peter. My trust has been stretched too thin by you and by others.”
“I’m not your old roommate. Or anyone else who has ever lied to you to get close.”
“But even now, after what we shared together, you still won’t tell me, so what am I to think? And now these photos are making our parents believe— God, what a mess. No, I can’t do this. We can’t do this.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, worried that she was withdrawing from him.
“I mean I’d appreciate it if you packed your things. I’ll arrange for a different room in the hotel for you,” she said, her cold tones filled with pain.
But he had no intention of going anywhere.
“Not a chance. I promised Alexander I’d keep you safe. So I am going to stay here whether you like it or not.”
His words unleashed her fury. She balled her fists and stalked toward him, but pulled up short. “I don’t like it one bit. You have no right—”
“I have every right. I’m the man your parents arranged for you to marry, and I care for you, goddamn it,” he shot back, frustrated that everything had fallen apart before he’d had a chance to explain everything to her.
To tell her the terrible truth about his family and the pain in his past.
Damn those photos.
Before his eyes, her anger deflated like a balloon with a pinhole. In its place was a veil of misery. “And I thought I cared for you, but that means nothing without trust and respect. I’m sorry. I can’t deal with this right now. It’s too painful.”
She whirled, ran back to her room, and slammed the door shut with a very un-princess-like curse.
They said love wasn’t truly over until indifference set in. The fact that she was angry right now was possibly the only good thing he’d have to face today.
Heading out onto the balcony to clear his head, it was impossible to miss the horde of paparazzi lined along the edges of the Jewel of Russia property and the slew of security staff that had been diverted to keep order. Goddamn paparazzi. If it weren’t for them, he and Tatiana might still be—
Suddenly it hit him. Security staff had been diverted.
He glanced down again at the chaos that reigned below, being controlled by at least half of the casino security team. Outside. Instead of inside where they belonged.
And who’d benefit the most from that situation?
Not the paparazzi.
But someone connected to the heist.
Someone who thought the circus going on down below would be a perfect distraction for whatever they were planning. Peter had unwittingly played right into their hands by being with Tatiana on the balcony yesterday morning, and providing tabloid fodder for their plan. What an idiot he’d been.
Mumbling an expletive, he headed back inside before providing additional photo ops for the damn tabloids, and braced himself for a call he really didn’t want to make.
With a deep breath, he hit the speed dial and phoned Alexander.
…
Tatiana sat on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around herself, her stomach clenching. She bent over and finally released the emotions she had barely kept in check.
But not even after he had made love to her was he willing to bare his heart the way she had opened her heart to him.
And now, because of those intimate photos, her parents expected them to marry. But how could she possibly even think about marrying a man who freely admitted he was keeping secrets from her?
Tears spilled from her eyes, and she sobbed with the pain and confusion swirling inside of her. Because deep in her heart she knew she’d fallen in love with him even without knowing the entire truth, not that she had totally embarrassed herself by admitting that to him.
The almost constant tweeting of her cell phone finally registered.
She swiped away her tears and snatched the phone from the nightstand.
An assortment of missed calls, voicemails, and a string of texts from Alexander and Vanessa.
CALL ME. SASHA.
OMG R U OK? VANESSA.
I NEED TO TALK TO YOU. SASHA.
PLZ CALL. VANESSA
She didn’t want Sasha’s brotherly concern over the tabloids any more than she wanted Peter’s excuses for not trusting her enough with his secrets.
The phone tweeted again and another message came through.
I M HERE IF U NEED ME. VANESSA.
She needed. A lot. She speed-dialed her friend.
“Hey,” she said, her voice husky with tears as Vanessa answered.
“Hey, yourself. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. Are the pictures that bad?” She hadn’t had a chance to get a real look at the tabloid Peter had been holding.
“They’re…bad. If you want to think the worse that is and you know how people are, Tatiana. They’re all over the Net as well,” Vanessa said, upset alive in her voice. “Good grief, girlfriend. What were you thinking?”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Tatiana said dryly.
“I don’t think you’d want me to lie to you. The shit really hit the fan here when Alexander saw them. He’s frikkin’ furious.”
“It wasn’t anything, for crying out loud. Besides, we’re adults, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I know. But he was really angry with Peter for quote unquote ‘comprising you.’”
Comprising her. Funny. If anything, she had been the aggressor last night.
“Peter didn’t compromise me. At least not that morning,” she added with a sniffle and an unwilling chuckle.
“Oh, my God, T! So something did happen? Tell me! Or maybe not. I know how private you are about things like this. Why these photos upset you so much.”
“They are upsetting. Because something did happen between us. But I can’t— It’s impossible. But now everyone is planning the wedding and I don’t know what to do.”
“Why is it impossible?” Vanessa sounded puzzled. “Peter seems really nice. I know he’s not a prince or anything, but—”
Tatiana swallowed, realizing her friend didn’t know about him. “Except he is a prince. Peter is really Pyotr Romanovich, son of the Grand Duke.”
“OMG. You mean he’s the guy your parents want you to marry?”
“Yeah. He told me after we got here. He’s been lying to me all these years.”
“I don’t think he meant to hurt you,” Vanessa said after a thoughtful pause. “You two weren’t really buddies, not like him and your brother.”
“You’re defending him?” Tatiana said, her anger rising.
“No, I’m not. What he did sucked, but… OMG, in those photos. The way he’s looking at you. I think he loves you, Tatiana. I really do.”
“He said he cares for me. A few minutes ago,” she confessed, sadness replacing anger. Despair that two people with such deep feelings for each other could end up torn apart over secrets. “But he also says there’s more he’s not telling me, Vanessa. How can he care for me and still be keeping secrets from me? He doesn’t trust me.”
“Girlfriend, give him a chance. Maybe he has good reasons for all this,” she urged.
“I have to go, Vanessa,” Tatiana said, needing some time alone to sort things out.
“I’m here if you need me,” her friend said sympathetically.
“I know.”
Chapter 14
With only three days left before the fashion show, the jewels had begun to arrive via bonded couriers, or with the royal family members themselves.
As Peter stood in the lobby, watching for any sign of the man from the day before, he familiarized himself with the royals. Tatiana stood beside Tony and greeted them upon their arrival. Her disappointment in him was evident, even with the distance that separated them as she stood across the lobby greeting her guests. Her remoteness only grew as the day progressed.
Clearly the tabloids had been seen by some of those royal guests, and the less tactful of the bunch would be sure to mention it to her. Peter should be at her side, fending off those attacks, but every time he approached, she hurried away or found some other way to keep him at a distance. Such as choosing Tony to be at her side for the arrival of the guests and their glittery baubles.
He should have expected her treatment after the sharp words they had exchanged that morning, but it still bothered him that she hadn’t allowed him to explain. He’d hoped that once he did, as he had with Alexander, things might get smoothed over. Although he had the sense that if Alexander were here in person, his friend might still kick his ass for good measure.
Satisfied that Tatiana and Tony had the situation under control, Peter decided to take a walk to check and see how the transfers from the couriers to the display cases in the ballroom were going.
As he entered the hallway, he noted the presence of additional security and how they efficiently kept guests moving out of the area. Along the hall leading to the amphitheater, another trio of guards was likewise handling the situation. Peter walked to the door leading to the staff areas and the hidden service corridor that connected all the large rooms, and flashed his credentials at the one guard stationed there. The man raised his hand to stop him and said, “May I take a look at your ID?” Peter unclipped it from his badge and the man did a thorough inspection before letting him pass.
Pleased, Peter walked the length of the corridor and found everything in order. He doubled back to the service entrance for the ballroom where another guard stopped and asked for his ID. He again cleared himself through and into the space, where an assortment of security guards and hotel staff were dealing with the delivery of the jewels from the couriers and the guests. One clerk was dutifully noting the contents while someone who looked like a jeweler examined them to confirm they were real before handing them over for placement in the secure display cases.
He understood the need for the inspection by the jeweler. More than one case of insurance fraud involved heists of fake jewels in order to receive a payout for the loss while the real items remained in the hands of the owners.
Strolling up and down the aisles, he took note of the splendor of the items, including a familiar looking set of jewelry.
He stopped to peer through the thick, smash-resistant glass at the tiara, necklace, bracelet, and ring sporting a fortune’s worth of diamonds and rubies. Ruby had been his mother’s birthstone and his father had gone to great lengths to have this particular collection made for his wife’s fortieth birthday. Peter remembered the excitement of his father sharing the secret of the gift with him. Showing him the marvelous pieces before Peter had helped wrap them in gaily colored paper and ribbons.
He had been eight years old when his father had presented the gift to Peter’s mother.
She had smiled, but it hadn’t reached her eyes. Vacant eyes which had grown ever more distant as she withdrew from her family and a world which had overwhelmed her with the constant demands of public events, the ever-present paparazzi, and the biting criticism of a small, but vocal, group of royals.<
br />
His mother had been institutionalized two years later, no longer able to cope with the world around her. The constant public intrusions into their lives had made her afraid of virtually everything, and weakened her tenuous hold on reality, until her mental illness had stolen her away from them.
He was thirteen when she had passed away quietly from the life she could no longer handle.
Grief-stricken, his father had sent him away to the same boarding school Alexander was attending. The gap in their ages meant they only saw each other occasionally. But even those infrequent contacts were enough for Peter to recognize the heavy mantle that a prince was forced to wear as he came of age.
It was there he decided early on to adopt a persona sans his royal title. His hope was to avoid the kinds of pressures that had driven his mother over the edge. He’d hoped to create a more normal and private life for himself and anyone he came to love.
In time, he became just another of the rich children sent away to study abroad. When he graduated and moved on, he had used the common form of his name and followed the path he decided to pursue for his life—that of a law enforcement officer.
It had angered his father, the Grand Duke, but Peter could not imagine living that other life anymore. He enjoyed being a police officer, and using his real identity complicated that profession in many ways.
“Detective Roman? Is something wrong?” asked the security guard who had approached him during his silence.
“Nothing. Just admiring these pieces,” he said, and moved on to the others. Satisfied that the area was secure for the moment, he hurried off to check out the other preparations.
…
It was the third time Alexander had called.
Tatiana hit the ignore button on her cell phone as she had for each of the earlier calls.
Moments later, the phone chirped again, this time warning she had a message.
From Alexander again. A photo message.
She relented and opened the message to find a picture of her beautiful new niece wearing one of the pink outfits she had hastily purchased before flying to Monaco. She looked adorable. Beneath the photo was a text message.
To Catch a Princess (Entangled Ignite) Page 12
