To Catch a Princess (16 page)

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.

Reluctantly he left her lips and trailed a line of kisses down the center of her until he was poised over the dark nest of curls between her legs. Parting her lips with his hands, he found the swollen nub of her and bent to kiss it. Worshipped it with his lips and tongue as he eased his fingers into her. Stroked her desire ever higher as he suckled her. She arched against his mouth and wave after wave of pleasure flooded through her. She called out his name and held onto his shoulders, teetering on the edge, holding back because she wanted to fall with him into the ecstasy of release.

She dug her fingers deep into the muscles of his shoulders and tugged him upward, her gaze locking with his as she said, “I want you inside me. I want to come with you.”

“I want that, too, Tatochka,” he said, and quickly found her center and thrust in, dragging a gasp from her. A sensation of fullness, of oneness, filled her as he buried himself in her depths.

They held still for long moments, savoring that union. Finding peace in togetherness even as their heartbeats raced, and he finally moved, drawing himself out until his head teased her opening. Pushing forward again, he dragged a moan from her as the friction of him had her shaking and battling for control.

…

Peter sucked in a breath. The wet of her, the tightness of her muscles surrounding him, almost made him lose it. But he wanted to give her yet more pleasure. He wanted to hear her shout his name when she gave herself over to her release. And so he tempered his motions, riding her slowly at first. His pace increased as she reached up and held onto him, raising her knees to deepen his penetration.

The couch creaked and shifted on the polished wood floor as he strove to please her and satisfy his own need for her body. Over and over he took her to the pinnacle, watching her as she watched him. Held onto him to keep control.

Her full breasts bobbed from the force of his thrusts. His balls tightened to the point where he knew his release would come soon, and he bent his head and suckled the tips of her breasts, wanting her to come with him.

She cradled his head and cried out his name. He gently teethed her nipples and she climaxed with a rough cry, her hands holding his head to her breasts. Her thighs tightened around him as with one final push, his climax pummeled him and he spilled himself into her.

He dropped down onto her and raised his head. Kissed her in between their rough breaths as they collapsed in the aftermath of their passion, slowly returning to earth.

“Tatochka, I don’t think I can ever get enough of you,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the couch with ease.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, his cock still buried inside her and coming to life once again. A sexy smile burst onto her lips as she held his shoulders and he finally took the short walk to the bedroom, each step making her ride against him and awakening desire.

“If you keep this up, Peter, my mother may get her babies quickly after all,” she teased and licked the shell of his ear.

He grinned and kissed her. Gently laid her down on the edge of the bed and braced his hands on the mattress. “I guess you want me to stop?”

“Never,” she said and let herself surrender to his loving again.

…

Tatiana lingered in bed while Peter showered, not wanting to move. Too sated and too happy.

She wanted to share that happiness, especially since by now everyone in Atlantic City was bound to have heard of their engagement.