Russian Enforcer's Royal Engagement (Russian Enforcers Book 7) (2 page)

Furiously, he turned on her, his jaw working, and she was treated to a close-up of a pair of remarkable eyes. She’d been right. They were amber, and at the moment they were shooting fire, rage visibly simmering there. Around them, all conversations had ceased, and a pin drop silence had descended.

“I’m warning you not to make a scene,” he grunted.

“I’ll make a scene whenever I damn well want to,” she bit back.

“You’ve been tagged,” he growled.

She frowned. “Tagged? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you need to come with me before I throw you over my shoulder, Miss Petrov,” he shot back.

Her eyes went wide. “What is this? Am I under arrest or what?”

“Something like that,” he snapped, then took a grip on her shoulder and shoved her out the door and into the empty hallway.

“Hey!” she cried. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, buddy, but you can’t treat me like this. I’m Mike Petrov’s sister, who happens to be the head of security in this fucking place!”

“I know who you are,” he said tersely, and made it sound like a threat.

Having had enough of this charade, she turned around. Without missing a beat, the guy simply picked her up and threw her over his shoulder!

What the hell was going on? Then it shot through her mind that this must be a practical joke. This asshole was probably working for Mike and was playing a trick on her! Well, if Mike thought this was funny, he had another thing coming.

“Put me down!” she bellowed, pummeling the man’s broad back with her fists. He didn’t even break stride.

They reached the end of the corridor, and he shoved open a door, then carted her inside. Not bothering to flick on the light, he shifted her to his other shoulder as if she was a bag of peanuts, then walked straight up to the back wall.

It was then that she heard the sound of rotors overhead. A chopper, hovering over the royal palace.

“Fuck,” the man grumbled under his breath. He’d heard it too.

He flipped a painting aside with a flick of the wrist. It swung out on its hinges and revealed a keypad. He punched in a few numbers, and before Diana’s surprised gaze a part of the wall opened up with a hissing sound. What the…

Just at that moment the unmistakable sound of an explosion rocked the palace.

She cried out when a piece of debris dropped from the ceiling and came crashing down. Wasting no time, the man threw her down on the floor, pinning her beneath his massive frame. The thundering sound of another explosion rent the air, and plaster rained down around them. Before she understood what was happening, he’d picked her up again, and dragged her into a small room.

Huddled on the floor, she watched as the door hummed closed behind them, sealing them off from the devastation. Lights flickered on, and she was astonished to find herself in some sort of safe room, the metal walls indicating the place was armored.

“You’re safe here,” he rasped.

With long strides, he moved past her and disappeared into the next room. She rose to her feet, her heart racing, and followed him. His hands pressed down on a panel of some kind, she found him scanning a wall of security monitors. They seemed to cover the entire palace. His eyes were riveted on the ballroom, and she drew in a sharp breath when she followed his intense stare.

Horrified, she watched as armed and masked men rappelled down into the ballroom through a breach in the ceiling.

“What the hell is going on!” she cried.

On the screen, the men were brandishing automatic weapons, shocked guests throwing themselves onto the floor.

His face set, the man grunted, “Terrorists.” He shook his head and slammed the panel with his fist. “Fuck! I told them!” He then turned his fiery gaze on her, leveling a steady look. “It’s you they’re after, Diana. Which is why I decided to act the moment I got intel on the imminent threat.”

This was not happening.

“But don’t you have guards, soldiers…an army?” she yelled.

He frowned. “We do, but if the man in charge won’t listen to advice… It’s too late to set the machinery in motion now. The only thing I could think of was to bring you to safety before the terrorists had the chance to take you.”

“You could have told my brother! You could have talked to Mike!”

God, her brothers, her family. They were all out there with the terrorists!

His lips tightened into a thin line. “The
king
should have
ordered
your brother.”

“But why me? I’m just a girl from Brooklyn. Why would anyone want to take me?”

He moved his massive shoulders in a shrug, and eyed her intently. “You tell me.”

She drew her fingers through her hair, and noticed her hands were trembling. Her eyes slashed back to the screen, where more men were pouring into the room. How many were there? A dozen? Two dozen? What the hell!

Her eyes flicked back to the man. “You still haven’t told me who you are.”

The answer was as much a surprise as the attack. “I’m Rudolph’s brother. Name’s Jack.”

Diana’s jaw dropped. “Jack…Jacques? You’re Prince Jacques?”

“That’s right.”

She shook her head. This was all wrong. “Mike told me you were in Iraq. Deployed with French Special Forces.”

He nodded. “I was, but when I learned of the potential threat, I took emergency leave.” His scowl deepened. “The House of Montinia is under attack, Diana, and it’s you they want. Now tell me, who are these people and what do they want from you?”

CHAPTER 4

Jack stared at the woman, his eyes narrowing. Could it be she was telling the truth? Not likely. His intel came from a reliable source: she was the target.

“This is crazy!” she exclaimed, her face twisted. And such a beautiful face it was. The woman was a stunner. With her golden hair, her high cheekbones, clear blue eyes and full lips she could have been a model. He let his eyes travel over her body. Long limbs, slim athletic build, full breasts. Damn she was hot. The twitch in his cock was unmistakable. If that posse of terrorists hadn’t barged in here, he would have wasted no time bedding her.

Though he knew he shouldn’t let her stunning beauty fool him. He’d heard plenty about the Petrovs from his brother. They were notorious in their home state of New York, all working in some capacity for a crime family known as the Gornakovs. Though lately they’d been working with the American FBI, straying from their criminal ways.

Diana Petrov might be a stunner, but she was as lethal as they came.

“Look, the message we intercepted was clear. These guys are after you.”

“We? Who’s we?” She clearly wasn’t happy he hadn’t worked with her brother on this. Truth was he didn’t trust Mike Petrov. When his dad had hired him he’d advised against it. Why hire a mobster? With the resources at Dad’s disposal he could have picked anyone. Why not recruit one of Jack’s buddies from Special Forces? They had the record to show for it, and he trusted them with his life and that of his family. Mike Petrov—who knew what his agenda was?

He sat perched on the edge of the instrument panel. “My family’s been receiving threats for over a year now. Which is not unusual. Montinia is an affluent country, and my family is amongst the richest in France, with a private fortune that attracts the attention of both the public and the press. Unlike other wealthy families we are very much in the public eye, which is both a blessing and a curse. Lately the threats have become more specific.” He held out his hand. “An American. A woman.”

She scowled, eyes like fire bolts. He let his own eyes dip down her cleavage, where a pair of creamy breasts were on display. This panic room was colder than the rest of the castle, and he could see her nipples puckering up, her dark areolae clearly visible through the white material of her dress. At least he thought it was from the cold. Christ. She was one highly fuckable female, and he had to grit his teeth to suppress the sudden heat holding him in its grip. They were alone in here, and his mind immediately jumped to possible scenarios where they were both naked and grinding away on this very instrument panel.

She planted a fist on her hip—her breasts wiggled in response. Down, boy, down.

“An American woman. Is that all you have? If you haven’t noticed, there’s more than one American woman visiting Montinia right now.”

He narrowed his eyes. “In the last communication we intercepted you were mentioned by name.” He flipped open a laptop, then stabbed at a message on the screen. “Read for yourself,” he grunted as he handed her the computer.

One of his buddies in the French secret service, the DGSI, had flagged the email. He’d immediately contacted Armand, who’d keyed in Mike. The latter had told them he’d look into the threat, then had done absolutely nothing. Typical. Same thing with Dad. The king argued there was no logical reason to target Diana, especially here in Montinia.

Diana read the email with rising anxiety.

Diana Petrov, the American female with the golden hair, arrives on American Airlines flight AA6135 in London Heathrow. Connecting flight BA0341 arrives in Nice 11/27 10:00.

She looked up, her eyes wide and searching. “What the hell…” she muttered, then her eyes flicked back to the screen where the terrorists were now inspecting the hostages they’d taken. “They’re looking for me.”

He nodded solemnly. “When they don’t find you amongst those taken all hell will break loose.”

She rose abruptly. “We have to do something. We can’t just—”

He shoved her back onto the chair. “No way. Going out there is suicide.”

“But we can’t just sit here!” she cried.

“We can and we will,” he growled. “Your safety is my number one priority.”

“Screw this,” she cried, and got up again, only to be pushed back down again.

He jerked a thumb at the screen. “What is your connection to these guys?”

“I told you—I don’t know! I’m just a casino security guard.”

He frowned. That much he knew about her. She worked at Lighthouse Casino in Brooklyn, one of many places owned by Yulian Gornakov.

She brought her hands to her hair, shaking her head. “This isn’t really happening.”

“I’m afraid it is,” he grunted, then leaned in and took her by the shoulders. “Who are you, Diana Petrov? And what is it about you that these men want so badly?”

Her face was a mask of terror now, and she screamed, “I don’t know!”

He stared at her intently for a long moment, trying to read her. She was telling the truth, he finally decided. She really had no clue what was going on.

“All right,” he told her. “Settle down. I believe you.”

She popped up from the chair like a coiled spring, and paced the small space. “Can’t you call somebody? The police? The army? Anyone!”

“Already did,” he acknowledged. “I called in the threat assessment before I came to get you.” He checked his watch. “They should be on site in minutes.”

When he couldn’t reach Armand, he’d called in the GIGN, the counter-terrorism and hostage rescue unit. Response time would be minimal, he knew. He’d tried to convince his dad to move everyone out of there immediately, and take them to the basement level, where they had a panic room that could accommodate dozens. Instead, his dad had told him to relax and enjoy the fucking party!

He’d briefly considered talking to Mike again, but since he’d already blown him off before, and there was no time to waste, he’d decided to take matters into his own hands and bodily remove Diana from the scene. If it was her these guys were after, he’d make damn sure she didn’t fall into their hands.

He followed her gaze, which was glued to the screen. It was clear from the body language of the hostage takers that they’d discovered Diana was not amongst those present. He watched as they gathered up all the hostages and divided them into groups so they could better control them.

From what he could make out they were all dressed in army fatigues, their faces unrecognizable behind black masks. They were carrying what looked like AK-47s or some other type of assault rifle. Dammit, the assholes were armed to the fucking teeth. He grimaced as he watched them. Their plan of campaign gone down the drain, they needed to come up with an alternative. In other words improvise, unless they had a plan B firmly in place. He just hoped they would leave the hostages in peace.

He watched as his father and brother put their heads together, and felt a fresh surge of rage. His fingers were itching to pick up a gun and blast his way into the ballroom, taking out as many terrorists as he could. But that would be madness, he knew. So he shook his head in disgust. “Don’t you think I want to end this just as much as you do?” he growled. “My family is in there, same as yours.”

“We need to call in the FBI.”

He stiffened. “The FBI? Why would I want to involve the Americans? This is a matter that doesn’t concern them. Besides, FBI is strictly domestic.”

She pointed to the screen. “That’s Yulian Gornakov in there. He’s one of the richest men in the world.”

He set his teeth. “I know perfectly well who Yulian Gornakov is,” he snarled. “One of the biggest
criminals
in the world.”

“Yulian is completely aboveboard,” she insisted, then paused. “He’s also an FBI asset. Once they know what’s going on, they
will
get involved. Trust me.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

She shot him a look that could kill. “Why don’t you just get over yourself, Jack? For your information I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I’m telling you right now you’re going to call in the FBI, and then we’re going out there and we’re taking those terrorists
down
!”

“No fucking way,” he shot back. “This is not the time to play the hero. My task is to make sure you’re safe. We’ll let the GIGN handle the rest.”

“Do you seriously think I’m going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while my family is under attack?” she snapped. “You’re delusional, asshole. That’s not the way I roll.”

“It’s the way
I
roll,” he snarled. ”You’re not going anywhere, darling. We’re sitting tight until this is all over.”

“
I’m
not a coward!” She hurled the words in his face. “I’m not hiding out here!” And she started for the door.