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  “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 c
ould 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.

  “Good luck with that,” he rumbled. Damn, she was a real firecracker. A woman after his own heart. He watched her move to the door, admiring the swing of her derrière. He groaned under his breath. Christ, she was hot. And in spite of all that was happening, he felt the lust rage in his blood, the heat rise in his gut.

  She waltzed back in, her face flushed. “Open that door now!” she demanded.

  He folded his arms across his chest and glared back at her. “You’re staying put, honey. And that’s the only answer you’re gonna get from me.”

  She gritted her teeth. “If you don’t let me out of here…”

  He grinned. “Then what? You’re going to throw a hissy fit?”

  “I’m going to make your life so miserable you’ll wish you were never born!”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Try me.”

  She quickly let her eyes dart to the panel, but even before she made her move he’d already anticipated it. The big red button that operated the outer door was only a slap away. The moment she slammed down her fist, he caught her wrist and yanked her off balance so she tumbled into his arms, her eyes wide and lips parting in surprise.

  CHAPTER 5

  The sudden proximity galvanized his system, the surge of electricity at their connection rocketing through his gut like a punch to the solar plexus. Then her breasts mashed against his chest, and primal urge took control as his lips crashed down on hers, desire sparking and raging through him, blocking out all reason.

  She moaned as his tongue parted her lips and found hers, tangling in the wet heat of her mouth. Her sweet scent intoxicated him, something fresh and lemony, and then he was exploring her mouth with an abandon that was new to him, diving into all that wetness with reckless abandon.

  She leaned into him, and his hand ran up her side until he closed his fingers over her breast, seeking and finding her nipple through the fabric and squeezing it between thumb and index finger, rolling it under his grasp then splaying his fingers across all that softness.

  Her breath hitched but she didn’t break the connection, exploring his tongue with her own, stabbing against him with an urgency that took his breath away. He let his hands roam over her back until he found her buttocks and pressed her into his rock hard erection, and then she was grinding against his crotch, sending his blood surging.

  With an animal grunt, he heaved her up onto the instrument panel, reached up to her thighs until he found the flimsy excuse of a slip and yanked it down. It was obvious to the both of them where this was going, but she made no move to stop him, curling her fingers around his neck and angling her head to allow him to take her mouth deeper still.

  His fingers, as if powered by their own desire, slipped between her thighs and he wasn’t surprised to find the slick wetness there, and when he fingered her clit, she moaned, pushing her cunt against his hand. His fingers slipped between her folds, delving into the slippery sheath and touching off the electric current roaring through her as he briefly massaged the bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy.

  Madness, he knew. Pure madness. And yet he couldn’t stop. It was as if something stronger than himself took over, urging him on. He had to have her—had to fuck her. As if on command, she leaned back against the screens, spreading her legs, and allowing her dress to pool around her hips, revealing her bare cunt.

  He descended upon her like a man on fire, his lips assaulting her throbbing pussy, and then he was jabbing inside her, spearing her folds with the tip of his tongue, spreading them with the thick of it, seeking the nectar within. He relished in the velvety feel of her wetness, eagerly lapping at her core.

  While she rested her feet on his wide shoulders, he pushed his pants down, freeing his aching cock, eager to make her his all the way. The rush of desire roared in his ears and had him panting when he reared up, searching her eyes.

  Half-lidded and smoky with lust, her face flushed, she grunted, “Fuck me, Jack,” then dug her fingernails into his back.

  He bucked his hips, and the thick head of his cock slipped inside her throbbing cunt with an ease he hadn’t expected. They both groaned at the connection, skin on skin, his thick girth filling her up. Heat roiled between them, and they were both panting now, as he rocked into her, slowly at first, then faster as she bucked her pelvis to meet his thrusts, eager and pushing him on, a lustful smile playing about her lips.

  Their breathing was labored when their lips met, and he was plunging into her mouth like he was plummeting inside her belly with his majestic cock, ferociously pumping into her.

  Grunts and moans filled the small space, and he tore at her dress.

  “I want to see you,” he huskily grunted.

  He needed to see all of her—touch her everywhere—leave his mark on her.

  She lifted the dress, revealing her breasts, her nipples hard as pebbles, her skin the color of gold dust. He laved on her tits, sucking her nipples into his mouth while he pounded her screaming cunt. Soppy sounds drove them to ever higher levels of arousal, and she curled her fingers in his hair, pressing him against her breasts.

  Like a man possessed, he fed on her bosom, arousing with lips and teeth and tongue, punching inside her over and over again. As she clasped her arms around his neck, he lifted her from the panel, digging his fingers into her asscheeks and then he was hoisting her up against the wall, slamming into her soaking heat faster and faster, all thought wiped from his mind.

  She keened a loud wail as she bucked and ground against him, her movements erratic and her body quaking and he knew she was climaxing when he felt her pussy clench around his girth, milk
ing him and sucking him in even deeper, all the way to her deepest core.

  With a loud roar he came inside her, his climax thundering through him, making him lose the last vestiges of control, and as she clung to him, her legs pressing against his buttocks, he unleashed his release into her quivering womanhood.

  Panting, both coated with a sheen of sweat, they stared at each other for a long beat, both finding it hard to believe what had just happened.

  Did they really just have sex while both their families were in extreme danger? This wasn’t happening—and yet it had, the fire crackling between them so powerful neither had been able to resist the inevitable.

  What was worse, he hadn’t even taken any precaution, acting like a horny teenager on a first date. He groaned when he realized he hadn’t even suggested once they use a condom. What the fuck?

  He panted against her cheek, the enormity of what had just taken place only now coming home to him.

  “I—I’m sorry,” he grunted, though he wasn’t. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d caught her eye back at the reception. And it was obvious she’d wanted him too. This thing they had, this connection, this chemistry, was undeniable. Biology had simply taken over, and as he was a man who always trusted his instincts he knew what had happened had been inevitable.

  “I’m not,” she whispered, and then placed a sweet kiss on his lips that did much to dispel the confusion. He looked up at her, still clasped in his arms, his cock still spearing into her wet heat. “I needed that,” she announced hoarsely. “I needed it so badly you wouldn’t believe.”

  He nodded. She didn’t need to explain. He’d needed it too. Needed her.

  He gently released her.

  He raked a hand through his mane, trying to clear his head. His mission was clear. He was here to protect her, and to connect with the outside world, possibly even to coordinate a rescue attempt. The anti-terrorism and hostage unit would be here any minute now. Question was what these terrorists were going to do now that they knew they’d missed their target.

 

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