Fuck. In his mind, this event was turning into a nightmare scenario.
“Relax, Peter. You’re way tense,” Tatiana said, and smoothed her hand across his chest again, trying to ease his chaotic thoughts.
“Promise me you’ll keep the Glock with you at all times, and your cell phone charged and ready.”
She pulled away from him and met his gaze, her eyes suddenly troubled. “You think it may be more than just a jewel heist?”
“Like I said, forewarned is forearmed. I’m probably being paranoid with all that’s happened the last few days, but I’d rather you be prepared. So promise me. Please.”
She nodded and tucked herself back against his side. And murmured the words he wanted to hear, “I promise.”
…
They made a striking couple, Shea thought. He watched Princess Tatiana and Prince Pyotr saunter into the room where the gala dinner was being held.
She was stunning in a crystal blue gown that brought out the color of the Ivanov eyes with their distinctive, trademark almond-shape. The gown hugged her sexy curves and the sweetheart neckline showed off her generous cleavage. Her ebony hair glowed with blue-black highlights and was upswept, displaying the elegant line of her throat where a collar of diamonds and sapphires rested. Teardrop sapphire and diamond earrings and a matching necklace completed her outfit.
More than one man turned to admire her as she and Prince Pyotr walked through the crowd, greeting their guests. It was clear, however, that Tatiana only had eyes for the man beside her, who, Shea acknowledged, was as handsome as she was beautiful.
The designer dinner jacket was perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders and tapered inward to a lean waist and hips. He smiled at a comment someone made, and a dimple emerged and his gold-green eyes glittered with amusement. Shea could see Tatiana’s real love for the prince and felt a twinge of guilt. He was sorry for all the trouble he had already caused them—and he was definitely going to ruin their day tomorrow.
Sucked to be them, but it was just jewelry. Not as if anyone would get hurt.
Moving toward the side of the ballroom, he hefted a tray of empty champagne glasses high enough to obscure Peter’s view of his face. He didn’t want to take any chances that the sharp-eyed detective would recognize him again. The first time had freaked him out enough for one gig.
As Tatiana and her prince greeted a final round of guests and headed to the dais at the front of the room, Shea slipped into the wings to watch the gathering. He noted Prince Sergei just yards away, a displeased just-ate-a-sour-lemon look on his face. The others at his table had similar looks as they noted Sergei sitting by them. He was clearly persona non grata at the little gathering. It made Shea wonder yet again what was really behind the prince’s attendance at this charity event, and whether there was more to it than Prince Sergei had let on.
…
Tatiana lifted the hem of her dress and mounted the few short steps onto the dais with an inward groan. This was always her very least favorite part of any event. But tonight, at least she had Peter beside her to offer moral support.
She walked to the podium, but paused to lay down her evening purse on her chair. The heavy weight of the Glock tucked within was foreign to her. When Peter hugged her and wished her luck, the butt of his own gun registered against her side.
She met his gaze, worried that he might be right about trouble heading their way. He must have sensed her concern since he bent and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
Offering him a smile, she nodded and took her spot at the podium, hoping there wouldn’t be any problems. She was about to start her speech when she caught sight of a couple slipping in through the door only a second before the security guards closed it.
They moved quickly to a table in the back of the room. Tatiana stepped hastily away from the podium, snagged Peter’s hand, and yanked him aside.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“My parents are here! I wasn’t expecting them until tomorrow afternoon.” She looked out at the crowd to confirm, but there was no doubt about it. Her parents were seated at the back of the room. After the dinner, she had no doubt they’d want an explanation of what was up with her and Peter.
Peter cupped her cheek and urged her attention back to him.
“We can deal with them,” he assured her.
“How? They are going to make all kinds of demands about that marriage arrangement and—”
He laid a finger on her lips and with his free hand, reached into his suit jacket pocket and removed a small square box. “Then let’s head them off. This will ruin the surprise I had planned for later, but let’s make this official. Now.”
He popped open the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond and sapphire engagement ring. Removing the ring, he bent on one knee and the chatter of the crowd gathered in the room increased to almost a roar.
“Will you, Princess Maria Theresa Tatiana Christiania Ivanov, marry me?”
Even though he had asked her before, she knew he was sacrificing more than just a surprise by doing this in front of the crowd. He was revealing himself and his feelings very publicly despite his wishes to have a private life, a testament to how great his love for her was.
“Try and stop me,” she said with a broad smile. Her heart pounded with excitement as he slipped the ring onto her finger.
The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, but she barely heard them, so caught up in the rush of joy singing through her body.
He shot to his feet, wrapped her in his arms, and bent to kiss her. He brushed his lips along hers and whispered, “I love you, solnyshko moyo.”
Then he grabbed hold of her hand and marched her to the podium. He tapped on the microphone to make sure it was on and at the electronic thump-thump-thump which confirmed it, he spoke.
“I know that wasn’t how you were expecting to start tonight’s dinner, but thank you for indulging me. Now, I’d like to introduce Princess Tatiana Ivanov, my future wife and your hostess for the wonderful charity event you have all been so kind to support.”
He stepped away and urged her to the microphone, where she stammered at first as the lights beamed down onto the glittering ring on her hand grasping the podium. But then she took a breath to steady the runaway beating of her heart and reminded herself of her obligations—despite wanting nothing more than to be off in the suite with Peter celebrating their commitment to each other.
With practiced ease, she settled into the speech she had prepared, thanking everyone who was attending and acknowledging those who had loaned the jewels and the others who had designed the outfits to be exhibited during tomorrow’s event. When she was done, she took her seat on the dais beside Peter, who bent his head and whispered conspiratorially, “I hope your father won’t be too upset with me for not asking him for your hand. Though, I guess he already agreed to it years ago.”
“Don’t worry. Daddy never stays mad for long, but watch out for my mom. I’ll give you even odds she’ll be asking about babies before the night is done.”
Peter choked on his wine. “Babies? Isn’t it enough that Alexander just gave them a grandchild?”
Tatiana grinned. “No, not at all. They want a whole stable of grandchildren, so I guess we’ll just have to practice until we get it right,” she said, and winked at him.
“You are so bad, Tatochka,” he said with a sexy chuckle.
She leaned close and whispered into his ear, “Just wait until later. I’ll show you just how bad I can be.”
Chapter 20
Shea watched his chosen man from the corner of the bar where he sat alone, nursing his pint of beer. Once again he paid careful attention to the man’s accent and mannerisms, wanting his impersonation tomorrow to be perfect.
Glancing at his watch, he figured the man would hang out in the bar for another half hour at most. Sure enough, like clockwork, the man departed for his hotel room almost on the dot, his gait slightly unsteady.
Since Shea knew where he’d
go, he hung back, biding his time until his meeting with Prince Sergei.
Another half hour passed and Shea dropped a tip on the table and left, heading to another bar that was not as popular. He stepped inside the nearly empty establishment, and caught sight of Prince Sergei sitting in a booth at the far side of the room, well away from the windows and door. He still wore the expensive silk suit from the gala dinner earlier that night, which made him look decidedly out of place. Shea approached and slipped into the booth. A full glass of wine sat in front of the older man and judging from the water stains and fingerprint smudge near the rim, the glass was likely to remain full.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Jones,” he said.
No hint of a smile or greeting or any other emotion came to the man’s face. If anything, his eyes were as dead as a shark’s and quite unnerving. “Are you ready for tomorrow, Mr. Smith?”
Nothing like cutting to the chase. “As soon as I know your obligations have been fulfilled—”
“They have,” Prince Sergei said in a chill tone, confirming that he had made the final payment that Shea had requested in advance of the job.
“Very good. The suit you ordered will be waiting for you at the shop,” he said, referring to the jacket he’d slip the jewels into once he had swapped them out with the paste duplicates that Fly had delivered the other day.
“Then this concludes our business,” the prince said with a cold finality that raised the hackles on Shea’s neck. Every line of his body radiated an anger that bordered on hatred, but before Shea could ask anything else, the prince shot out of the booth and left the bar without a backward glance.
Shea lingered, that uneasy feeling from earlier that night growing ever bigger in his gut, although he had nothing to back it up. So far, despite being an arrogant and pissed off prick, the prince had been a man of his word, making the payments for each of the jobs. Just to make sure nothing had changed, Shea pulled out his smartphone and signed in to the numbered Swiss account. Sure enough, the last payment was there. Relief swept away his earlier misgivings. With a few taps, he diverted his portion of the funds to a number of other offshore accounts, each one harder than the last to examine due to the privacy laws of the various countries. Once he was done with that, he made the payments to each of his men for their assistance, and added a little extra to tide them over until someone else took them onto their team. Although he really hoped they’d take his advice and retire.
Finished with that task, he pulled up the app that let him hack into the casino’s security cameras. Just in time to see Prince Sergei walking through the lobby to the elevators as if nothing out of the ordinary was about to happen. The prince even forced a smile for someone lingering by the lobby desk.
Satisfied that his unease was just a case of nerves about his final job, Shea quickly skimmed through the other cameras. Everything seemed as it should be, which meant it was time for him to head to his hotel and rest. In the early morning hours, he’d prepare to pull the actual heist.
His final heist. He smiled, thinking of the home by the sea he’d buy. Imagining a passel of children rushing in front of him, kicking sand into the air in their haste to hit the waves.
He pictured a lovely woman at his side, holding his hand. Swinging it playfully as an ocean breeze blew the long blond strands back from her face.
A perfect picture. He rose and slid out of the booth, eager to start the next phase of his life.
…
Peter sat beside Tatiana on the couch in their suite and held her hand, wanting to present a united front. Across from them sat Prince Ivan and Princess Anastasia, Tatiana’s parents. Judging by the glower on the prince’s face, he was less than happy.
“We are very disturbed by what we’ve seen in the news, Tatochka. We raised you better than that.” Prince Ivan blasted Peter with the evil eye.
Understandable. Peter was the man who had unwittingly compromised his daughter.
Okay, maybe not so unwittingly. But the media circus had certainly not been part of his plan to woo and win her.
“It was my fault we drew attention to ourselves, Prince Ivan. I was the one who stepped out onto the balcony without thinking someone might be pointing a camera at us.”
“It looked like something to me in that photo! Do you deny that you have been intimate with my daughter?” he demanded, full of parental bluster.
“Dad, please. Peter and I did nothing wrong,” Tatiana replied, squeezed his hand, and offered him a reassuring smile.
Her father was about to lash out again when his wife laid a hand on his thigh to rein him in. “Ivan, please stop carrying on about that photo, or any of the dozens of other photos that followed. Lord knows there will be hundreds in the future once Tatiana and Peter come home.”
Peter’s gut tightened at her words. “Come home?” he asked in a barely controlled voice.
“Yes, come home to Russia. Or even here to Monaco. Both our families have homes here, and I know your father would love to have you closer,” Anastasia replied, clearly assuming Peter and Tatiana wanted to leave the States once they were married.
He sucked in a deep breath and held it, wanting to remain calm as he responded. Tatiana beat him to the punch. “Home is in New Jersey, Mom. Peter and I have lives there. Lives that we love and wish to keep. That’s not to say we won’t come to visit—”
“But what about the babies?” her mother whined dramatically.
Peter shared a look with Tatiana and then they both burst out laughing. “You were so right, solnyshko moyo.”
“Right about what?” her father snapped, his deep blue eyes glittering with upset.
The last thing Peter wanted was for his first real meeting with his future in-laws to end with anger and recriminations. So he attempted to smooth the waters.
“I hope you understand that Tatiana and I want time to explore our relationship and get used to marriage before having children. But we promise that both before and after we have children we will do our best to spend time with you, either here or at home in New Jersey.”
Husband and wife shared a look before Tatiana’s father regally dipped his head. “Very well. We will hold you to that promise, Prince Pyotr.”
Peter nodded, and he and Tatiana rose as one. Tatiana said, “It’s getting late and we have a lot to do tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind if we call it a night.”
The Ivanovs rose and the prince guided his wife to the door, but whirled around and waggled a finger at Peter. “Do not give the paparazzi any more to write about, young man.”
Tatiana grabbed his finger, gave it a playful tug, and leaned forward to brush a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, Dad. We will be discreet.”
She hugged him, then hugged and kissed her mother good night.
“Your father and I are very happy that our arrangement worked out so well. You make a perfectly lovely couple. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you, Mom,” Tatiana said, and hugged her again.
Peter waited until she was back at his side, then he shook hands with Prince Ivan and kissed Princess Anastasia on both cheeks. “Have a good night.”
Tatiana’s parents left the suite and he locked the door, then leaned his back against it. “They took that pretty well.”
She sashayed to him and jerked his bow tie open. “Considering they’re getting their wish granted with our marriage, I don’t see there’s much for them to complain about.”
“Except the babies part. You were so right about that,” he teased. He reached behind her and drew down the zipper of her gown. As it peeled away from her body and slipped downward, she stepped out of it and her shoes, and stood there in nothing but her jewelry, sapphire blue lingerie, and sexy thigh high stockings.
“Wow. Here I thought you couldn’t look any better than you did in that gown.” He cupped her breasts, strumming his fingers across her lace-covered skin.
She smiled sexily, her light perfume filling his senses.
She covered his
erection with her hand, stroking him through the fabric of his suit. “Well, I know you definitely look much better without all these clothes.”
“Help me get rid of them?” He shrugged off his jacket and let her open his shirt and slide it off, her hands skimming across every inch of skin revealed as the shirt dropped to the floor. She did the same with his pants and boxers, and he toed off his shoes and socks, stepped out of the pile of clothes on the floor.
He didn’t think he could wait the short distance to the bedroom, so he sat on the sofa and urged her between his legs so he could have his fill of her and she of him as she encircled him. She caressed him and he took his time pleasuring her through the thin bits of silk and lace.
She leaned forward and he ran his hands to her shoulders to ease down the straps of her bra. He stroked the swell of her breasts with his thumbs before moving to strum them across the turgid tips of her breasts.
She moaned and he pushed the lace away to expose her creamy skin and rich peach-colored nipples.
Wrapping her free hand around the back of his neck, she urged him forward and he took her into his mouth, shifting from one breast to the other with an enticing series of licks and bites. Her exultant cries pushed him onward and he shifted both hands down to her tiny thong. With one powerful pull, he ripped it off and found her center, pressing on her clit with one hand while slipping the fingers of his other inside her to stroke the damp muscles that clutched at them.
…
Tatiana nearly came with his intimate caresses and her knees grew weak, making her sway toward him and grab hold of his shoulders for support.
“You are so beautiful, so hot,” he murmured against her breasts, and then he was in motion, guiding her to the edge of the couch. Gently spreading her thighs with his hands and kneeling in front of her, letting his gaze travel over her with such heat, she nearly came from its potency.
“Peter, I love you,” she said and caressed his cheek.
“And I, you, solnyshko moyo. You are the light that warms my heart.” He leaned over to kiss her, sealing the promise he had made to her with his ring.
To Catch a Princess (Entangled Ignite) Page 17
