The Prince's Gamble (13 page)

“Tomorrow, Kat. Six o’clock. Be here if Alexander is still interested in our arrangement.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Do you think he’s on to us?” Kathleen paced worriedly back and forth in the temporary field office in Security where everyone had been waiting for her after the meeting with Petrov. She reviewed every exchange with him in her mind, her thoughts keeping rhythm with the subtle rustle of the gown’s fabric.

“Nicolai was always good at games, but I didn’t get the sense he was playing just now,” Alexander offered.

She swung around to him and her skirts whirled around her legs with a swish. “But he was testing me. Us.”

“Yes, he was. He wanted to see just how far we would be willing to go.”

“Well, I was convinced,” Peter said while shooting Alexander a knowing look.

“Glad to hear it.”

Alexander’s voice conveyed a pique toward the detective that Kathleen didn’t quite understand. She glanced in the direction of her ADIC and fellow agents. “So we repeat this again tomorrow. In the meantime, we keep our watch on Petrov and his entourage?”

“Confirmed, Special Agent Martinez. In the meantime, Detective Roman will continue checking with his sources to see if there is any scuttlebutt about Stravinski or the missing hostess,” her ADIC replied.

“I’ll discuss this with my people and have a report for you as soon as possible,” Peter confirmed.

ADIC Reynolds narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her. “Get some rest, Special Agent Martinez. We’ll meet here tomorrow at fourteen hundred.”

“Yes, sir.” She shot a sideways look at Alexander.

His face was set in stern lines and tension radiated from every muscle in his body. She could guess at the reason for his upset, but had to deal with her own. Inside she was chilled to her core from her encounter with Petrov and was barely containing the shivers lying just beneath her skin.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said at the same time Alexander said, “I’ll walk you to your room.”

She wasn’t going to argue with him. She didn’t have the strength to do so.

Exiting the field office, she moved quickly to the elevators, her arms wrapped around herself to battle the cold within her. When they stepped in the elevator as it arrived, Alexander mumbled a Russian curse. He tore off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The heat of his body clung to it, providing a temporary respite from the frostiness at her center.

“C-c-c-old.” The shudder of her body was growing almost more violent with each second that passed.

“It’s the aftermath of the adrenaline rush. A nice warm shower will help it pass.” He drew her into his arms, surrounding her in his embrace.

She laid her head against his chest, welcoming the warmth of him and the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. His presence provided a reassuring sense of comfort.

When they reached their floor, he maintained his embrace, his arm draped around her shoulders while he walked her to her room. Inside, he urged her in the direction of the bathroom and helped her by undoing the troublesome zipper part way. “Take a shower. It will make you feel better.”

She nodded and handed him back his jacket, instantly regretting the loss of his warmth. Hurrying to the shower, she finished unzipping the gown and stepped out of it. She ripped off the lingerie Petrov had touched so hungrily. Just the reminder of it, and of him fondling her, had her feeling dirty. With that thought, the cold inside her intensified. Heavy, rolling shudders vibrated across her body.

She turned on the water and made it as hot as she could bear. Stepping inside, she grabbed a washcloth and slathered it with shower gel. She scrubbed her body, wanting to clean the feel of Petrov from every spot he had touched, but as much as she washed, his sliminess lingered.

In some small way, Kathleen now understood how women who had been violated felt. She had sorely underestimated her own reaction when she had suggested this part of the assignment. None of her previous undercover work had prepared her for anything like this.

She washed her body over and over until some semblance of cleanliness returned. Turning off the water, she stepped out into the warmth of the room. Alexander must have reached in and flipped on the overhead heater, and she welcomed the added heat. She toweled herself dry and combed her hair, pausing to wipe away the steam on the mirror to look at herself.

With her face scrubbed clean of make-up she looked pale. Her eyes seemed huge, lost against her nearly bloodless skin.

Pushing away from the washstand, she grabbed the thick terry cloth robe hanging from a hook on the back of the door and slipped it on as the chills returned to her body. She just couldn’t shake the memory of Petrov’s touch.

She sucked in a breath, battling her emotions. She would not cry over a slimebag like Petrov. He might have touched her body, but it could have been much worse. Despite that assertion, her body refused to stop shaking. Her throat tightened as she battled back the tears she did not want to shed.

Leaning back against the tiled wall, she slowly slid to the ground, arms wrapped around her middle. Trying desperately to keep herself from splintering into tiny pieces.

…

She had been in the shower for so long that Alexander decided to order some food. Judging from the paleness beneath the make-up, he suspected Kathleen had not eaten very much during the course of the long day.

He busied himself as he waited for her and set covered dishes on the bistro table by the windows. He poured glasses of wine to allow it to breathe. Tried not to grow anxious at her delayed return, especially when the water stopped running in the shower and she didn’t come out for far too long.

Going to the door, he listened, but heard nothing. He knocked. “Are you okay, Kat?”

Silence greeted him.

He knocked again. Slightly harder. But she still didn’t respond.

Trying the door, he realized it was unlocked and opened it while calling out, “I’m coming in.”

Hesitantly he entered, and his heart nearly shattered from the site of her crumpled on the floor, her head buried against her knees and her arms hugging herself.

He dropped to the ground beside her and nervously brushed his hand across her hair. “Are you okay?”

What a stupid question, he thought, and jammed his fists against his thighs, not knowing what he could do to help.

She nodded, silent, but he couldn’t miss the tremors wracking her body. Or the long, pent-up breath she took in and then expelled in a rush.

He did the only thing he could think of.

He scooped her into his arms and stood.

She murmured a slight protest, but then tucked her head tight to his chest and grabbed hold of his shoulders.

He carried her back into the bedroom, to the wing chair tucked in a corner of the room. Sitting down, he held her close and cuddled her in his lap. Brushed kisses across her temple.

“You’ll be fine, Kat.” He took some small satisfaction from the fact that the shivers in her body slowly abated as he held her.

“I hated him touching me.” She tilted her head back to look at him.

“I can’t begin to know what you went through.” Even when he had been kidnapped, the men had not done anything sexual or violent to him. But there was one thing he had learned about himself that day that he hoped might help her.

“When I was taken as a child, I was terrified of the men. A part of me remembers that fear because I let it sink its teeth into my heart and soul.”

Kathleen raised her hand and cradled his cheek. “But you didn’t let the fear stop you.”

“No, I didn’t, and you won’t either. If you face it now, stomp it down, it won’t touch you in here.” He laid his palm directly above her heart.

She grasped his hand with hers. She was trembling again, but not from fear this time. Tentatively, she moved his hand beneath the edge of her robe to the warm, slightly damp skin of her breast. He made no overt move, allowing her to decide what would follow.

“I want you to touch me, Sasha. I want to touch you.” She pressed his hand to her breast. Desire beaded her nipple into a hard nubbin beneath his palm, but he still held back, knowing her emotions were fragile and that she could shatter if he handled this wrong.

“I want the same thing, Kat. But I don’t want to rush this, whatever
this
is.” He reinforced his words with the gentle pass of his thumb along the swell of her breast, a lazy back and forth to ease her past any doubts or fears.

“I don’t want to rush this either.” She moved her hands to his shirt where he had undone the top few buttons. She eased a couple more buttons open and ducked her hand beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But I don’t want
his
touch to be the memory I take with me to bed. I want it to be yours.” Her finger traced the edge of his hard, flat nipple.

He drew in a shaky breath, immediately aroused by that simple and innocent touch. He responded in kind and dipped his thumb down to circle around the puckered nub of her nipple. Circled it over and over until they were both breathing hard and had to have more.

She shifted in his lap to straddle his legs, her center resting directly over his erection. The robe parted to reveal all of her to him. He brushed his hands from her strong thighs, past her flat midsection to her perfectly full breasts. Cradling them, he strummed his fingers across her nipples and then shifted his hands to her back and urged her forward.

Her soft murmur of pleasure as he closed his mouth around her nipple roused him beyond what he had thought possible. He almost came from the sound of his name on her lips in a long sibilant plea.

“Sasha. I want you to be the man I think of in my dreams tonight.”

With a groan, he sucked and licked her nipples, alternated his mouth with his hands, wanting to bring her pleasure and erase the memories of Nicolai’s touch.

…

Kathleen held Alexander close, her fingers tangled in his silky hair and digging into his scalp. At one long pull of his mouth on her breast, her body shuddered and need surged within her. She rocked her hips back and forth against his hard length and moaned at the feel of all that power tucked against her. Wanting more.

With a powerful push, Alexander came to his feet, his arms beneath her buttocks to keep her close. With a few hurried strides he walked them to the bed and, gently, he lowered her to the surface and positioned himself between her legs. But as she reached for the zipper on his pants, he brushed her hands away.

“Tonight is all about you,
Ko’shechka maja
.”

She wanted to protest, but didn’t have the strength. Didn’t have the willpower. He dropped to his knees and skimmed his mouth against the side of her knee and then along her thigh until he was poised by the dark tangle of curls at her center. She shook as she imagined his mouth there, but maddeningly, he took his time, bringing his hands to her center to open her for him. Darting his tongue out for just a hint of a kiss against her.

She jumped at that and murmured his name. “Sasha, please.”

He smiled, all confident male, and swept his gaze to hers for barely a heartbeat before he finally honored her request. He brought his lips to the swollen nub and licked and sucked. Dipped his tongue down and slipped one finger and then a second into her, stroking her toward her release.

She trembled and closed her eyes at the pleasure he was bringing her. It was so great and yet so sudden. Unexpected, and even possibly unwanted.

What was she doing?

Alexander must have registered her retreat from the moment. He raised his head and rose on his knees until they were face-to-face, but he continued his caresses. He urged her toward release with his fingers as he said, “Don’t leave me now, Kat.”

She laid her hands on his shoulders, needing the stability he seemed to provide even as he was driving her to lose control. The control that had always been who she was and what she was.

“I’m scared of this, Sasha. Of what I feel for you. It’s so wrong.”

He leaned forward, skimmed the edge of her mouth with his, and whispered, “I know what you’re feeling because I feel it, too.”

She slipped her hands back into the wealth of his hair. Met his mouth with hers as he placed one gentle kiss after another on her lips. As he brought her to the edge with a few more strokes of his hand.

“How can this be wrong, Kat?” he murmured.

Her breath caught in her throat as she held onto that feeling for that one fleeting moment—that sensation of flying free, unfettered by the bounds of her body. Her soul filled with almost unbearable lightness. And then she was falling over, lost in the sensation of him as she called out his name.

Chapter Sixteen

Alexander cradled Kathleen gently as her climax ebbed. Needing one last, sweet bit of her, he slowly caressed her nether lips and the sensitive nub at her center before urging her beneath the sheets and to the middle of the mattress.

“Don’t leave,” she said as he got to his feet beside the bed. Reaching for him.

He smiled at her eagerness, just as impatient to stay despite the jumble of emotions inside of him. He was scared, too. Scared because she was so wrong for him, and yet he couldn’t imagine her not being there.

And he couldn’t leave her. Not yet.

He toed off his shoes and lay beside her, fully clothed. He didn’t trust what might happen if he got undressed.

His actions prompted a confused look on her face and he ran his index finger along the furrow on her forehead. “It’s too soon for more, Kat. Even though I want to, believe me.”

With a half-smile, she said, “If I promise to keep my hands to myself, will you at least get comfortable?”

Alexander understood what she meant, but his mind conjured a vision of Kathleen touching herself as he watched. The erection that had yet to subside tightened to the point of pain. Sucking in a deep breath, he battled back his desire, but not before Kathleen’s perceptive gaze understood his dilemma.

“That’s not a very fair promise, is it?” She immediately reached down and unfastened his pants, releasing the pressure of his suit against his arousal. Replacing it with the tender caress of her hand as she freed him from his briefs.

“Kat,” he said on a long, pained breath as she leisurely stroked the length of him. The sheer pleasure of it dragged his eyes closed.

She kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth while she continued to pleasure him with her hand. She worked him toward completion as she made love to him with her lips and tongue.

He tossed back the sheets so he could touch her again. Bend down and bite the tips of her breasts, making her come all over again with those tempting nibbles. Her release dragged him over the edge.

Her kiss this time was tender as she held him in her hand, her actions gentling him. She soothed the tension in his body and the weakness of his knees from his release. When some semblance of control returned, he excused himself for a few minutes, then returned to her wearing only a towel.

He nearly grew hard again as her hungry gaze followed him on his walk from the bathroom to the bed, but he tamped it down.

She lay against the pillows, one arm tucked behind her head, her dark chestnut hair spread across the glaring white of the sheets hiding her from his view. A sexy blush rode along her chest and cheeks as he sat on the edge of the bed, but beneath that color a tired pallor lingered.

It made him recall the meals he had ordered. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I had lunch,” she replied.

With a quick look at his watch, he said, “And it’s well past eleven. Time for a little snack.”

Her stomach answered with a loud rumble she tried to stifle with one hand over her midsection. Without waiting for her reply, he strode to the bistro table, ripped the covers off the two plates and walked back to the bed with the tray of food.

…

Kat watched him approach and found it hard to be miffed with his air of command. He had a boyish, relaxed grin on his face with that damned dimple that did all kinds of things to her insides. Of course, he had done all other kinds of wonderful things to her moments before, which also made it hard to be mad.

Not to mention that he was even more delicious to look at almost-fully-naked than he was in those amazing designer suits and shirts he always wore. There wasn’t an ounce on him that wasn’t leanly muscled and gloriously male.

“Hungry?” He hiked his brow and set the tray across her legs. He scooted up on the bed facing her, his legs crossed beneath him. The towel strategically covering temptation.

Oh, yes. She was hungry.
For him
. But she bit back the words. It was too much, too soon. She needed to refocus, get some rest, and some food. Motioning to the two different sandwiches, she asked, “Which would you prefer?”

“How about we take a half of each?”

“Perfect.” In truth, both of them looked amazingly delicious and she had been hesitant to choose between them. The first was inches of ham with brie and some kind of dark-colored relish on a plump roll. The second was a turkey club piled high with bacon, lettuce and tomatoes, tucked between slabs of toasted wheat bread. Beside each were mounds of freshly made potato chips. Her mouth watered just looking at them.

Alexander snatched one of the chips and held it to her lips. “Enjoy.”

She smiled and took it from him. It was crisp and still slightly warm. Perfectly salted. Her stomach grumbled again, dragging a laugh from both of them.

He poured them wine, and as they began to eat, he said, “Tell me about yourself.”

Funny thing to say to someone who was sitting there, almost naked, and with whom you had just shared some incredible sex. And yet, his question somehow also felt appropriate if this thing between them was to go somewhere beyond where it already had. Not that she was sure yet if it would…or should.

With a shrug, she replied. “Not much to say. I’m a CPA who thought it might be interesting to work for the FBI.”

Her tone must have said not to dwell on that point, so he asked something else. “Where did you grow up?”

“Edison, New Jersey. My mom is a lawyer and hoped I’d go to law school, but I didn’t. Dad works for a pharmaceutical house doing research.”

He nodded and took a big bite of his sandwich and ate a few chips before he asked, “What about school?”

She thought about his background as she nibbled. Private boarding schools and Harvard for an undergrad. Wharton for an MBA. How dull her answer would seem, but she gave it anyway. “Public high school. Rutgers afterward.”

“It all sounds so. . .”

“Boring?” she offered as he fumbled over the word.

“Normal,” he finished, surprising her for a moment until it occurred to her.

“I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.”

He chuckled and finished off his half of the turkey club. “I guess. I’ve always wondered how different my life would be if I hadn’t been born a prince.”

She could easily rattle off all the things he might miss, like the fancy clothes and education and the homes all over the world and the fast sports cars. But she figured those weren’t the things he was wondering about.

Before taking another bite, she said, “Tell me about your parents.”

His smile transformed into an odd combo of indulgence and warmth. “My parents. They’re an experience. Demanding, but loving. Regally overbearing, but fair.”

“Do they visit often?” She had no doubt that they were close emotionally, based on his obvious love for them.

“I’d like them to visit more, as long as they come alone.” He gave a droll laugh and a rueful shake of his head. “My mother has a tendency to bring along unwanted female company.”

She nearly choked on her sandwich and had to take a sip of wine to clear her throat. “She’s matchmaking?”

“Horribly.” He grabbed a handful of chips and rattled off names, eating a chip for each one. “Princess Galena. Irina of the St. Petersburg Popovs. Oksana. Natalia. Mischa.”

She shot her hand into the air. “Stop. You’ll finish all the chips if you keep on going.”

His rich laugh dispelled any unease about the topic. “I’ll have to warn my mother that you think her matchmaking is bad for my diet.”

“I’m not sure your mother cares what I think,” she said, half-serious in a way that sucked a bit of the humor from the situation. Kathleen was certain she was not the kind of woman his mother would ever bring home for him—nor would his mother approve of her having a relationship with their heir.

Sensing the change, he leaned forward as if to kiss her, but instead cupped her cheek. “All that matters is what I think.”

When her gaze connected with his, the truth of his words had darkened the winter blue of his eyes to sapphire. Her heart did a joyful skip before she forced reality to the forefront.

“It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

The dimple peeked back out. “I like that it’s a ‘we’.”

“I can’t very well toss you into the cold, cruel night, can I?”

One ebony eyebrow lifted and his smile broadened. “That’s very hospitable of you.”

He cleaned away the tray, snagged the remote for the curtains, and shut off the lights. Slipping into bed behind her, he spooned against her back. “Do you mind if I open the curtains? I like to see the stars and sunrise.”

She smiled and snuggled against him. “I like that, too.”

He did so and then dropped his hand back down to keep her close, whispering, “It’s the simple things like this that are important, Kat. Not anything else. Not anyone else.”

For a moment, she let herself believe it really was that easy. Then reality returned. She knew better. But rather than ruin the moment, she said, “Goodnight, Sasha,” and told herself it was crazy to imagine saying that every night to him.

His true princess, whenever he found her, would have that pleasure.