To Catch a Princess (Entangled Ignite) Page 3

  “Needs more security. It might make sense to delay the show and the opening of the exhibition until we get that extra security in place,” Alexander replied calmly and peered from the corner of his eye at his wife.

  She nodded. “It might make sense, Tatiana. We should probably think about more hands-on involvement at the event,” Kathleen added.

  “I had planned on flying out next week to handle the final details. I’ll move up that trip. Vanessa can step in here and keep things under control,” Tatiana replied, referring to her best friend who had risen through the ranks from hostess to a manager.

  Alexander nodded, but was obviously uneasy. “I’d rather you didn’t go alone, Tatochka. We don’t know how dangerous these men might be.”

  “According to Interpol, there has never been a serious injury in connection with any of the heists,” Peter said. “Still, I agree that someone should go with Tatiana. I’m worried about her safety, too, even though the cat burglar has never been violent.” There was a first time for everything, Peter thought.

  A rough sigh escaped Alexander and he dragged his fingers through the dark locks of his hair. “I’ll see what I can move around,” he said, but he was obviously torn about leaving his wife and new baby.

  “You’ve got too much going on now, Sasha. Kathleen also, but I’m free to take a week or two off and help out,” Peter said.

  “You?” Tatiana jumped in, the tone of her voice escalating into nearly a squeak.

  “Yes, me,” Peter confirmed. The baby began to fuss and he gently cradled her against his shoulder and tenderly rocked her, easing her growing discomfort.

  He handled the baby expertly, Tatiana thought, much like he seemed to do most things, despite the way he downplayed his abilities with his rumpled clothing and his boyish looks. At thirty, he had only a few years on her, but his eyes held the look of someone far older. Someone who knew how to take care of himself.

  Someone who had suffered hardship, which made her worry about all that she didn’t know about Peter.

  “I appreciate the offer, but we can’t ask you to take time off on our behalf,” she said, more concerned about the prospect of spending time alone with him than the possible theft.

  “It’s not an issue, really. I’m due for vacation time and I haven’t been to Monaco in a while,” he said and flinched at the admission.

  “You’ve been to Monaco?” she asked, wondering how an Atlantic City detective could afford travel to one of the priciest and most exclusive countries in Europe.

  With a shrug, he said, “Even poor folk like me take vacations, Princess.”

  The heat of embarrassment swept across her cheeks. She sucked in a breath to reply, but Alexander beat her to the punch.

  “It would only be fair to pay you for the time. We can hire you as a consultant. I trust you can make arrangements with the authorities to keep you apprised of any information they may obtain.”

  “That’s not necessary, Sasha. We have enough security for the jewels and Tony can make arrangements for more,” Tatiana protested.

  “I’m not worried about the jewels, Tatochka. I’m worried about your safety despite the apparently sterling record of this cat burglar.”

  To continue objecting to his concerns for her safety would seem petty. Especially when what Alexander and Peter had proposed seemed very reasonable. Except that she didn’t like others making decisions for her and worse, she wasn’t sure how she would handle having the handsome and incredibly intriguing detective in such constant contact.

  “I understand, Sasha. I may not like it, but I don’t want anyone to have to worry about me, too.”

  Alexander smiled in a way she recognized all too well. It was that kind of big-brother-just-pulled-one-over-on-her smile and she wondered what that was about.

  “I’ll let you and Peter coordinate your travel plans. Once you’re on the ground and can assess what’s happening, we can decide what else needs to be done,” her brother said.

  She peered at Peter, who was still rocking the baby, the look both incongruous and somehow right. He was a complex man and too dangerous to her emotions, but she knew better than to battle her brother when his mind was made up.

  “We’ll make the plans and keep you posted.”

  …

  “Monaco sounds so exciting,” Vanessa said dreamily as she sat on the couch in Tatiana’s apartment and sipped a glass of wine.

  “You’ll be able to visit it one day. Once you’ve hit a year as a manager, you can ask Alexander about doing a rotation at the casino there,” Tatiana said and grabbed a slice of pizza, slid it onto a plate, and relaxed against the comfy cushions. She loved this mid-week tradition with Vanessa, and being able to let her hair down and act like a typical twenty-something.

  Vanessa smiled and munched on her pizza thoughtfully. “Are you freaked out by Peter’s news? Do you really think someone will try to steal the jewelry?”

  Tatiana shrugged. She was more freaked out about spending time with Peter, but she wasn’t ready to share that with anyone, including her best friend. “The stuff is worth millions, but it just seems more like something you see happen in a movie and not real life.”

  Vanessa narrowed her hazel-eyed gaze and stared at her hard, the pizza slice halfway to her mouth. “So if it’s not real life, why the rush to go to Monaco with the very hot, very sexy Detective Roman?”

  She stared hard at her friend, eyes wide, kind of surprised. “You think he’s hot and sexy?”

  Vanessa nearly choked on the pizza she was chewing. She covered her mouth and in a shocked voice, said, “Puleez, you are so full of it. I see the way you look at him. You totally think he’s a hottie.”

  Since her friend knew her too well to deny it, Tatiana shrugged and stared down at her food. “Kind of hot. If you go for rumpled and rundown.”

  Vanessa chuckled aloud again. “OMG, Tatiana. The man is drop dead gorgeous no matter what he wears, although I’d prefer he’d wear nothing at all.”

  Unfortunately, her friend’s words brought images of Peter last summer, his loose board shorts riding low on those lean hips as he participated in one of the events the casino held on the beach. His beautiful and amazing body practically naked. Driving those thoughts away, she said, “I guess he’s kind of cute. He’s just not my type.”

  Vanessa raised her glass and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “You are such a liar. Why do you keep on denying your attraction to him?”

  Tatiana laid her plate down and began counting off her reasons. “First of all, he’s older.”

  “By only a few years.”

  “Second he’s a cop.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. “So is Kathleen, kind of. That didn’t stop your brother from falling in love with her.”

  No, it hadn’t stopped Alexander from marrying his FBI agent wife. “Alexander is made of sturdier stuff than me. I’m not sure I could handle the pressures of being a cop’s wife.”

  Vanessa’s gaze dipped down and Tatiana knew her friend was remembering the incident just over three years ago that had brought together Alexander and Kathleen. She reached out and laid her hand over Vanessa’s. “I don’t know how you did it, being held captive by those men for so long.”

  Her friend shook her head. “Just a few days, although it felt like a lifetime. But they grabbed you, too.”

  “Just for one horrible day. But seeing Alexander shot making the money drop was way worse. I still have nightmares about it. I can’t imagine worrying like that every day of my life.”

  Vanessa’s head shot up. “Because that’s what it would be like to be married to a cop?”

  She nodded. “Not to mention how the whole being royal thing would impact on our lives.”

  Her friend snorted in disbelief. “Come on, Princess. I know the real you. The whole being royal thing is so not your thing. You love getting down and dirty with us commoners,” she teased.

  Tatiana smiled. “Yeah, I do, but if I married someone like Peter, h
e would constantly be in the public eye because of me. How could he go undercover or do any of the other things he has to for his job?”

  “Alexander and Kathleen have handled it just fine,” Vanessa tossed back.

  She couldn’t argue with that, but she wasn’t her brother, in so many ways. “I’m glad he’s happy. He deserves it.”

  Vanessa squeezed her hand gently. “So do you. Why not give it a shot with the crazy sexy detective?”

  Her friend would not give it up unless she caved. “How about this? Should the opportunity arise, I’ll think about it.”

  “I’ll take that for now,” Vanessa said with a laugh.

  “Why, thank you. I so appreciate that,” she teased back, grateful she had such an easy-going relationship with the other woman. They had grown closer in the years since a Russian mobster had kidnapped Vanessa, and Kathleen had come to investigate. Peter had been involved in that case also. Since then, he’d dropped by the casino often, but Tatiana couldn’t say she really knew all that much about him.

  Funny how Fate had brought them all together. Now Fate was sending her on another adventure with the handsome and, yes, crazy sexy detective.

  She wasn’t normally one to believe that you couldn’t control your destiny, but somehow it kept on throwing Peter in her path.

  Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something.

  She sipped on her wine and ate some more pizza with her friend, enjoying a simple night. She had a feeling that in the next few days, things were going to get way more complicated.

  And possibly…way more interesting.

  …

  In the quiet library of a tony townhouse, Shea Brady faced the banker-type man whom he now knew to be Prince Sergei, bastard grandson of Russian nobility.

  The prince introduced his “associate.” The one who was supposed to help Shea on the new job.

  Hatchet Man was more like it. Shea didn’t like the look of the thug, nor the idea that Sergei wanted him to be part of his team.

  “We agreed when we first started—” he began, but the prince silenced him with an imperial wave of his hand.

  “Things have changed since we first started.”

  “Not in my book they haven’t. You want to go ahead with this job, you’ll let me pick my own team.” He pointed to the prince’s associate. The man’s ill-fitting suit failed to hide the large weapon tucked beneath one arm. “That goon isn’t fit for my team.”

  Bright red blossomed across the man’s features and he clenched and unclenched his fists. Neck muscles straining, the man said in a thick, guttural accent, “You think I’m not fit?”

  “Prove it,” Shea said.

  The man charged him.

  His mistake.

  Shea bent and used the man’s momentum, sending him up and over his back to land on the thick carpet with a thud that shook the floor beneath their feet. The impact drove the air from the thug’s lungs, stunning him, and Shea moved in swiftly, whipping the gun from the man’s holster before grabbing hold of his arm and flipping him onto his stomach. With one knee pressing against the man’s spine and one hand twisting his arm upward, he put the gun to the man’s head and said, “Bang.”

  “Motherfucker,” the man said, and rolled from side-to-side in an attempt to break free, forcing Shea to increase the pressure on his arm until with a snap, his elbow popped out of its socket.

  The man howled with pain and finally ceased his struggles.

  Shea shoved to his feet and for safety’s sake, tucked the gun in the gap at the small of his back and covered it with his jacket. He would store it somewhere secure later. He wasn’t a fan of weapons in general, much less on one of his jobs. They created too many possibilities for escalating the risk to unacceptable levels.

  Facing Sergei, who sat on a rich embroidered sofa, he tapped his chest and said, “My team or this is a no-go.”

  A muscle jumped in the prince’s jaw and, like his associate, a flush of color spread across his face. “You would pass up that much money over this?”

  Shea shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve got no vested interest in this event, unlike you. And there will be lots more opportunities for me to steal whatever jewels I would like. Besides, Interpol is probably starting to connect the dots. The heat will be on for any future jobs, especially the Ivanov gig.”

  “Interpol doesn’t scare me and I didn’t think it would faze an infamous thief like you. As for stealing other jewels, there will not be another opportunity like this, Mr. Smith,” Jones said with deadly calm.

  Shea was hard-pressed to argue with him, not that he would admit it and weaken his hand. In addition to the monetary payoff the prince had promised, the prince only wanted one piece from those at the event. If Shea wanted, he could steal some of the other jewelry for himself. He considered the value of the haul. It would truly hurt to walk away from this deal, but he also wasn’t willing to risk his life by having goons like the one on the floor on his team.

  “My team. I’ll pick the best people and we’ll both be very happy once the job is done,” he said, his tone placating in the hopes of smoothing over the upset.

  The prince glanced down at his man. His caterwauling had faded to a series of low moans as he cradled his injured arm to his chest. With a moue of annoyance, he kicked at the man’s foot and snapped out, “Get up.”

  As the man slowly lumbered to his feet, Prince Sergei likewise rose from the sofa, the epitome of grace and cool despite all that had just happened.

  His detached and almost hostile calm creeped the hell out of Shea and made him wonder whether it didn’t make sense to walk away from this deal. But before he could voice that decision, the prince nodded and said, “Your team. Your way, Mr. Smith.”

  Shit, Shea thought. Hiding his unease, he dipped his head, pivoted, and walked out of the library. Immediately outside the door was another of the prince’s associates, leaner and not as muscular as the one inside, but armed.

  As he stepped into the foyer, the man eyeballed him and jerked his thumb in the direction of the front door, making it clear Shea was not supposed to linger.

  Not that Shea intended to case the place, but it was impossible not to notice the environs of the townhouse. The furnishings and artwork screamed of money, although they lacked a personal touch, which hinted to him that this townhouse and contents were a rental. It would make sense, after all. Just as he kept his personal things separate from his business, the prince would likely do the same.

  As Shea hurried from the townhouse, he kept a careful eye out, his distrust of his employer growing by leaps and bounds. It wasn’t just that Sergei had wanted to interfere with his team. It was the kind of man that he had wanted to place there. The kind of man who was born to violence.

  That just wasn’t Shea’s style. In his nearly two decades of thievery, he had never physically hurt or killed a single one of his marks or anyone connected to one of his heists.

  He wasn’t about to start now.

  Chapter 5

  Alexander lounged on his sofa like a man with no worries, but beneath the calm exterior, Peter sensed that there was a great deal of turmoil.

  “I don’t like this, Pyotr,” he said, using the Russian version of Peter’s name, a sure sign of the agitation he was hiding. “I don’t like lying to my sister and my wife.”

  “I don’t like it either, Sasha. I asked you to keep my secret all those years ago because I wanted to just be an everyday man,” he said and paced back and forth in Alexander’s office.

  “But you’re not an ordinary man, and now that our parents have announced their desire to forge ahead with this ridiculous marriage arrangement—”

  Peter whirled, faced his friend, and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. “Why is it so ridiculous? Do you think it’s impossible for Tatiana to care for someone like me?”

  Some of the tension finally left Alexander’s body. He chuckled and shook his head. “On the contrary. I think on some level she already does care, but she
doesn’t understand what she’s feeling. You have been there for her more than once, like a comfortable pair of shoes. Ready when you need them, but set aside when you don’t.”

  “Ouch. Don’t spare my ego, Sasha,” he muttered, and walked over to the bar tucked into one alcove of the office. He poured both of them a scotch and sauntered back to the sofa. He handed Alexander a glass, then plopped down on the coffee table and took a big gulp. The warmth of the scotch burned a path down his throat to the empty pit of his stomach, which growled noisily.

  “It’s almost time for dinner. Can you stay?” Alexander asked.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he had joined the Ivanovs for a meal, but if he was going to be leaving for Monaco soon, he had some things he had to clear off his desk before going. Luckily it had been quiet in the precinct the last few days and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t turn over to one of the other detectives in the pen.

  “I just need to do a few things back at work,” he said, but Alexander waved him off.

  “Nothing that can’t wait an hour, Peter. If you’re going to be the man for my sister—”

  “I’m not sure that’s the wisest thing. There are reasons why I’ve stayed away from being a royal,” he jumped in.

  “Reasons you’ve yet to share with me or anyone else. Including our parents, apparently.”

  Peter took another sip of his scotch and faced his friend. In all the years they had known each other, he had never explained why he lived under an alias or why the thought of being in the public eye was so abhorrent. Downright scary. He could face down a man with a loaded gun pointed at his face easier than he could a man with a camera.

  “It would be tough for me to be undercover if my face was always plastered in the tabloids or newspapers,” he hedged.

  Alexander eyed him over the rim of his glass before taking a thoughtful sip. He motioned to him with the glass and said, “I hope you can fool your suspects better than you do me. It’s obvious there’s more to it than that.”

  There was, but it was a family secret that had stayed buried for many years. One too painful to share. Even with someone like Alexander, whom he trusted like a brother.