The Exiled Prince Trilogy

by Jeana E. Mann

  “There’s always a first time.” On his way through the door, he paused to trail a fingertip along the notch of my collarbone. His wicked grin tore my thoughts from work. I followed him into his dressing room.

  “Have I told you lately that you’re an overbearing control freak?” While I spoke, I removed his dress shirt from its hanger and helped him slide into the starched linen.

  “Not today, but I’m sure you’ll get around to it.” The cocky smirk on his handsome face did crazy things to my insides. Would it always be like this between us or would we become one of those complacent married couples? I hoped not.

  He buttoned up the front and fastened his cufflinks as I retrieved his tie. His dark head bent to watch me knot the length of ice blue silk around his neck. “I know we’re busy this week, but I’ve asked Julie to set up interviews right away.”

  “For what?” I held up his navy suit jacket. Once he’d slid his arms into the sleeves, I smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, admiring the V of his torso. No man wore a suit like Roman Menshikov.

  “For your replacement.”

  I halted. “You’re firing me?” We’d gone to city hall on a whim, at his urging. His impromptu request had swept me off my feet, and I’d happily agreed. Neither of us had discussed the particulars of our future. Hearing his request brought the heat of anger to simmer in my veins.

  “Of course not.” Turning his back, he strode into the bedroom. “My wife can’t be my personal assistant.”

  “Why not?” I trotted on his heels, tripping over the long bedsheet.

  “You’re the wife of a billionaire and a former prince. You don’t work.” As he spoke, he slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket then gave his reflection a final check in the mirror beside the door. Even though he’d tweaked my temper, I still longed to caress his smooth, square jaw.

  “That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard,” I snapped. “This isn’t the Victorian age.” No man, not even my husband, had the right to order me around. Work meant everything to me, and I had no intention of giving it up. “No one is better qualified to take care of you than your wife. Nothing has changed, Roman.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. The minute you put my ring on your finger, you started a new life. You’re Mrs. Menshikov now.” When I crossed my arms over my chest, he paused to study me. “Are we having our first fight?”

  “Yes. We are. We need to talk about this.”

  “And we will. Later.” He opened the door, signaling the end of our conversation. “Right now, I’ve got to get to the other side of the city. Where’s my briefcase?”

  “It’s downstairs by the door, where it always is.” My bare feet slapped on the hall floor. “You’re seriously leaving?”

  At the top of the stairs, he took my chin in his hand. His gaze trapped mine, sending a shiver of need into my center, made more potent by the fire in my belly, a fire that burned for him and him alone. The tone of his voice gentled. “I said later, Rourke.”

  From the landing, I watched him descend the stairs. He moved with easy confidence, a study of power and strength, barely contained by custom-tailored linen and silk. I drew in a deep breath and tried to soothe my temper. Rash words and tantrums had no effect on Roman. I lifted my chin before heading back to the bedroom. He might have ended the conversation, but the discussion was far from closed. With a little persuasion, he’d come around to my way of thinking.

  After a quick shower, I headed downtown. As the Manhattan cityscape flashed by the car windows, my annoyance returned. When Roman had proposed, I’d been so caught up in the fantasy of life with my dream guy that I’d failed to contemplate the reality of marriage to one of the world’s wealthiest men. The glow of our union faded in the bright daylight. We’d known each other less than a year, had dated for a few months, and leaped into matrimony. My love for him hadn’t wavered, but I hadn’t considered the many ways our lives might change by tying the knot. Questions and uncertainties threatened to explode in my head. Thankfully, Everly had agreed to meet me for lunch at our favorite downtown restaurant. I needed her cool reason and level-headed advice.

  “Hey.” She greeted me with a peck on the cheek. The scent of Chanel clung to her black pantsuit. The instant we parted, she grabbed my hand and lifted it into the air between us, her gaze homing in on my ring finger. Sixteen round brilliant diamonds sparkled at her from their setting of platinum and gold. “Oh. My. God. What’s this?”

  “Right. About that—”

  “You got married?” Her angry squeal echoed through the restaurant. The clatter of silverware and hum of chatter ceased. Dozens of curious eyes turned to look at us.

  “Shhhh. You don’t have to tell the entire world.” I grabbed her sleeve and tugged her into the chair next to me. “We haven’t formally announced anything yet. Roman wants to keep it quiet for now.”

  “I’m your best friend, and you didn’t invite me. How could you?” Her slender nose crinkled. “Not only did you rob me of the opportunity to be your maid of honor, you stole our chance to have a killer bachelorette party.”

  “I tell you I’m married, and this is your concern?” I lifted an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at her indignation. “No congratulations?”

  “Oh, honey, you know I’m happy for you.” In true Everly fashion, she shoved aside her dismay and wrapped both arms around my shoulders. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” An uncontrollable smile stretched my mouth. I was grinning like an idiot but couldn’t help it.

  “Just so you know, I’m seriously annoyed. You were my maid of honor. I tell you everything. Everything.” The symmetry of her features changed as she pouted. Despite her overtures, I knew she was thrilled for me by the excited sparkle in her eyes. “I demand an apology.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have called you, but it was kind of spur-of-the-moment.”

  “Okay. Let’s calm down a second.” With a melodramatic sigh, she placed a hand on her bosom and drew in two deep breaths. “First, Roman Menshikov never does anything without thinking through every aspect of his actions, and second, you’re now one of the wealthiest women in the world. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes.” Honestly, I hadn’t thought about the money at all. My greatest concern had been pledging myself to the man I loved for eternity. Hearing her words made my palms sweat. “I swear it’s not going to change me.”

  Everly’s laughter brought a flush of heat to my cheeks. “Honey, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s already changed you. There’s an iceberg on your ring finger, and you’ve got minions now.” She nodded toward two imposing men dressed in similar black suits, standing against the wall across from our table. I’d assumed they were restaurant security. Lance, my personal bodyguard, who accompanied me everywhere, hovered within shouting distance, blending into the surroundings.

  “I don’t know them. They must be here with someone else.”

  “No. I’m pretty sure they’re here for you,” she said.

  I tapped a quick text into my phone, and ten seconds later, Lance materialized at my elbow. A casual polo shirt and khaki pants couldn’t hide his soldier posture. He bent down to catch my words. “Lance, do you know those men?”

  “Yes, ma’am. They’re part of your team.” At my scowl, he straightened and lifted his chin. “And there are two more outside. Ivan and Mr. Menshikov insisted.”

  “Do you think they could be a little less conspicuous?” I tried to curb the irritation in my voice. It wasn’t Lance’s fault. If Ivan and Roman felt I needed additional protection, I didn’t have a problem with it. I did, however, take issue with the fact that no one had bothered to tell me.

  “I’ll have a word with them, ma’am.” Within seconds of my request, the minions had vanished, but I felt their gazes on me.

  “See? Told you so.” Everly unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap with an assertive snap. “So, tell me all about the wedding. How did it happen?”

  Th
e memory rushed back, replacing my irritation with a tingle of excitement. The huge grin returned. “Yesterday, I thought we were going to lunch, but the limousine pulled up to the courthouse steps instead. He took my hand in his and said, ‘I can’t wait any longer. I have to make you mine. Let’s get married. Now. Today.’ Just like that.” I snapped my fingers to represent the abruptness of our decision. Embarrassment scalded my face at the memory of all the wicked things he’d done to me in the back of the car afterward.

  “Wow.” She fanned her face with a manicured hand. “That’s hot.” Our conversation paused when the waiter arrived to take our order. When he’d gone, she continued. “What about the honeymoon? Is he taking you somewhere special?”

  “I don’t know. We didn’t really talk about it. He’s got a lot going on right now. Some secret business deal.” Her questions illuminated the gaps in communication between me and my husband. “We’ve got our whole lives to vacation.”

  “True.” She nibbled on the edge of a complimentary breadstick before shoving it aside. “Ugh, I’m starving, and carbs are not on my diet. What are you going to do now that you’re fabulously wealthy? Summers in the Riviera? Fashion shows in Milan?” A young gentleman passed by our table and flashed a smile at her. She smiled back, eyes brightening at his flirtation.

  You’re the wife of a billionaire and a former prince. You don’t work. Roman’s directive replayed through my head, sparking my irritation. It was going to be a long day if I couldn’t get my temper under control. “I’m keeping my job as Roman’s personal assistant. He wants me to hire a replacement, but I don’t want to quit.”

  “He’s right. You can’t be his personal assistant.”

  “Not you, too.” I bristled at her words. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re Mrs. Menshikov. He’s a powerhouse. You should be out spreading your awesomeness among high society and having beautiful babies.” When my frown deepened, she laughed. “Goodness, your face! You look terrified. Let me hook you up. First thing we need to do is get you a consultation with Christian. You’re going to need a new wardrobe—ball gowns, business suits, dresses, casual outfits, something for the yacht, and shoes. Lots and lots of shoes.” As she spoke, she tapped out a text message on her phone to her stylist and our mutual friend. “There, all done. He can see you tomorrow at nine. And you’re going to need a personal assistant of your own while you’re at it. Have you thought about the charities you’ll want to align with? What about Roman’s other homes? I assume he’ll want you to take over their management.”

  “No. I— No— Oh my goodness.” The blood drained from my head into my toes, leaving me dizzy.

  “Hey, breathe.” Empathy softened her features. One of her hands covered mine and squeezed. “This is wonderful, right? You’ve married Prince Charming, the man of your dreams. Just think, if he ever reclaims the throne, you’ll be Princess Menshikov.”

  “Um, that’s never going to happen.” I laughed at her silliness, but uneasiness hovered on the periphery of my smile. Was that what Roman wanted? Someone to cater to his needs? The thought of losing my identity frightened me. I’d fought hard for my independence and success. “Do you think I made a mistake?”

  “No, no. Honey, of course not.” Concern dimmed her smile. She leaned forward, closing the distance between us. “Do I think you rushed into this? Yes. But he loves you madly, and you love him.” I nodded at her words, biting my lower lip. “You’ll work it out.”

  No one—not even Everly—understood the complexity of my relationship with Roman. Deep inside, I didn’t believe a man of his wealth and power could love a regular girl like me. Although I knew my insecurities had no basis in fact, they were real and needed to be addressed.

  After lunch, I gave her a ride to her apartment. In the car, our conversation turned toward lighter topics, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief: weather, our favorite music, upcoming movies. As always, Everly kept me sane. She saw through the bullshit and put the world in perspective. Even though I hated the pain she’d suffered during her divorce, I loved having her back in New York City and close to me.

  When the car arrived at her place, she bit her lower lip and hesitated before leaving the car. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have a date with Nicky on Friday night.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. Roman’s younger brother reveled in mischief and mind games. She had no idea of his penchant for trouble because I’d kept secret the worst of his shenanigans. I smoothed the surprise from my expression. “Really?”

  A frown marred her forehead. “If this is going to be weird, I’ll cancel.” The driver opened the door. Golden sunshine spilled into the car and warmed my legs.

  “No, it’s fine.” I rested a hand on her arm to delay her exit for a few seconds longer. “Do you like him?”

  “We’re friends.” She waved a nonchalant hand through the air. “He’s fun and doesn’t want anything but a good time. It’s nothing.”

  “Sure. I get it.” I nodded, trying to wrap my mind around the concept of my best friend and Roman’s manipulative brother as a couple, and pushed away the misgivings. She was an adult and able to make her own decisions. “But Nicky’s complicated.” I couldn’t tell her about the details of his interference in my relationship with Roman, that he was the true father of Roman’s daughter Milada, or his refusal to claim parentage. I couldn’t tell her, but I could warn her. “Promise you’ll be careful.”

  “Of course. ‘Careful’ is my middle name.” She winked, batting long eyelashes at me. I laughed. It was impossible to stay serious around her for long.

  “Alright. Call me after with all the details.”

  “Toodles.” From the sidewalk, she waggled her fingers at me then sashayed into the swanky building without a backward glance. Everly was the smartest, most confident woman I’d ever met. My worries were unfounded. If anyone could put Nicky in his place, it was her.

  Roman

  For the better part of the last thirty years, I’d been chasing something unknown, something intangible. Happiness had eluded me. No matter how much I ate, I remained hungry. Drink never satiated my thirst. Sex never filled my emptiness. Then Rourke had come along and had changed all that. I’d been riding a rollercoaster of my own devise, always looking for a new business to acquire or a failing market to revive. When I was with her, I wanted to step away from the ride and take time to enjoy the fruits of my success. I’d taken my inheritance and built it into an empire worthy of a king. Once upon a time, I’d prized an original Picasso or property in Dubai more than life itself, but I never had a chance to enjoy any of it. Now, I wanted to show Rourke everything my money could offer and share those prized possessions with her.

  “Daydreaming again?” Ivan’s dry humor seeped into my musings. “Or plotting world domination?” One corner of his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile but couldn’t.

  I stepped away from the window of my office. We faced each other. On most days, he wore a severe black suit, his thinning hair slicked away from the sharp features of his face. Today, he looked younger and more relaxed in black trousers and a gray sweater, changes I attributed to his new wife, Julie, and the birth of their baby. “Look at you, Mr. GQ.” Opportunities to tease him were few and far between. I intended to take advantage of each one.

  “You should know.” After more than thirty years in the United States, his words still bore traces of a Russian accent.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He cleared his throat. “Did you call me in here to discuss fashion, or do we have business to conduct?” Ivan was the only person, besides Rourke, who dared challenge me. Today was no exception, and I respected him more for it.

  “Business, of course. What’s the situation?”

  “Troops moved into Kitzeh late last night. Somehow, they knew about our plan to infiltrate the capital.”

  “What?” I’d been half listening, my attention snagged by a text from Rourke, stating that she needed my cock. We’d mad
e love nonstop after the wedding, only taking necessary breaks for personal needs and to check on work. At the sight of her request, I grew hard and moved behind the desk to hide the evidence from Ivan’s shrewd gaze.

  “I said that someone leaked information about the attack to the enemy. You have a mole in your midst.”

  “That’s impossible.” I snapped my gaze to his. “We’ve been extremely careful.” Emails were encrypted. Phone calls were scrambled and only made from secure lines. I’d taken every precaution.

  “Not only is it possible, it’s true. A person within your circle has broken your trust.” He pressed his lips into a tight white line and moved to the window. I stared at his broad back.

  “Casualties?” Dread twisted my stomach.

  “Many. The soldiers were driven back to the border. They’ve taken refuge with allies in Poland.” He braced a hand on the window frame. His trembling fingers were the only sign of his distress. The sight of Ivan’s worry escalated my anxiety. He’d seen innocent lives taken before, but this was something different. This was personal to both of us.

  “Send condolences to their families. Make sure their survivors receive annuities and that their children are cared for. We’ll cover all funeral costs, of course.” Although my voice sounded strong and in control, I was gutted inside. I shoved a hand through my hair and paced the length of the window. Was this my penance? Would I ever be able to sleep through the night knowing that my actions had ended innocent lives?

  He clapped a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You knew there would be casualties when you started this. Those men willingly gave their lives for the friends and relatives trapped in that hellhole. You’re doing the right thing, Roman. Don’t doubt yourself now.”