“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.
2
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 made 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.”
This war between Kitzeh and the militant faction responsible for butchering my parents had been decades in the making. Everything I’d done during my adult life had been targeted toward freeing my country from the senseless slaughter of men, women, and children by a heartless regime. I drew in a deep breath and cast aside my doubts. “Find the leak. We need to snuff out this problem before more lives are lost. And set up a call with General Bogdanov. I want to know our next moves.”
This wasn’t my first foray into politics. I’d been funding weapons for various war-torn countries, with the approval of the United States government, for more than a decade. It was a necessary evil and big business. One of the perks of being a warlord was the ability to champion my own causes.
“Have you told your new wife about your hobby?�
� Ivan asked, once again corralling my attention.
“No. And I’m not going to either. Not yet.” To avoid his gaze, I thumbed through a report on my desk.
“She needs to know. This situation is a hotbed of risks. If you ask me, you should not have married her. At least until this mess is over.” He stared down his long nose at me, eyes narrowing, the same way he’d done when I’d been given detention after school as a kid.
“I never ask for your opinion, and yet, you always give it to me.” I lifted an eyebrow, taunting him, trying to guide the conversation away from Rourke.
“Don’t try to minimize this. The danger is real. Especially if the situation escalates. Someone within your circle is leaking confidential information, which puts all of us at risk. Your wife deserves to know the mess she’s married into.”
His words stayed with me long after he’d left the room. By marrying Rourke, she’d become an unwitting party to my devious deeds. Maybe that was a cowardly move, but I’d built an empire by taking calculated risks. My only excuse for withholding the truth was that I loved her too much to lose her. Few things frightened me, but the idea of going through life without her turned my blood to ice. If I’d told her about the war before the wedding, she might have left me, and I would never let that happen.
3
Rourke
No matter how many times I walked into Roman’s office in the Sapphire Building, the panoramic view from his windows took my breath away. The afternoon sun sparkled on the adjacent skyscrapers, but the sight of him made me forget everything else. He sat behind his desk, reclined in the huge leather chair, to watch the eight flat-screen monitors on the wall. I shut the double doors behind me, taking in the details of his polished appearance, from the perfect cut of his suit to the gleam of his platinum Movado watch. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. I sighed dreamily. Life changed in mysterious ways when you least expected it. This beautiful man belonged to me. Me. Rourke Donahue. A year ago, I’d been unemployed and almost homeless. Today, I was the wife of a billionaire and a Russian royal prince.
“Have you forgotten how to knock?” Roman asked without facing me. His low voice shimmered through my body. Despite my silence, he always knew I was there.
“Your wife shouldn’t have to knock.”
At my sassy reply, he swiveled in the chair and narrowed his blue eyes. “Is that so?” He pushed away from the desk and spread his knees wide, resting his palms on the tops of his thighs. “Someone is quite full of herself today. Apparently, we need to set some ground rules.”
“Right. For you.” His eyebrows lifted at my teasing, and a rare grin curved his lips. When he smiled, the lines of worry erased from his face, and he looked younger. The sight warmed my heart. He carried a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, more than most men his age. If I had my way, he’d smile a lot more in the future.
“You’re insubordinate, and I can’t have that.” The quiet measure of his words sent a thrill of anticipation along my spine and into my center. With his gaze locked on mine, he tugged at the knot of his tie and unbuttoned his collar. “Come here.”
“No.” I loved to challenge his authority, especially when it heightened the sexual tension between us.
He tapped a finger on his leg, a subtle sign of his internal scheming. “No one denies me, Mrs. Menshikov. Not even you.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Unable to restrain my feelings, I let myself dart to his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. There was nowhere I’d rather be than in his embrace.
“If this is you denying me, then I’m all for it.” The tip of his nose nuzzled my earlobe. I loved this complicated man and his mercurial temperament. “When I get home tonight, I’m going to spank that round ass of yours,” he growled in my ear. Tiny bubbles of excitement fizzed beneath my skin. “And we’ll see who obeys whom.” After shifting my weight on his legs, he skimmed soft lips along the column of my neck. The heat of his breath seared my skin.
“Promises, promises.” I pressed my thighs together, reveling in the delicious ache left from our honeymoon night and increasing with each brush of his lips. “If my memory is correct, I vowed to ‘love, honor, and cherish’. I don’t remember anything about ‘obey’.” The justice of the peace had removed the objectionable word from our vows at my insistence and Roman’s great amusement.
The flat of his palm smoothed along my arm to my wrist. He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed each fingertip with deliberate thoroughness. The ache between my legs continued to grow as he spoke in his resonant baritone. “The world is yours for the asking. I’ll give you anything your heart desires. Tell me what you want, Rourke.”
“You’re the only thing I want or need,” I said, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
“I’m already yours. What else do you want? I want to spoil you beyond reason.”
“You already have.” Happiness threatened to explode in my chest. I cupped his hard jaw, enjoying the tickle of his razor stubble against my skin.
“Do you love me?” His lips hovered above mine. Our breaths mingled.
“Yes. Always.” This was the Roman who held my heart—arrogant and demanding in the boardroom, insecure and uncertain when it came to my feelings. The moment our mouths met, my life snapped into focus, clear and pure.
“Mmmm.” He hummed in approval before pulling away and running the tip of his tongue around the perimeter of his lips. “You taste like oranges.”
“I ate one in the car on the way here.”
“I like it.” The leather of the chair creaked as he straightened. “Okay. Break’s over. Back to work. We’ve got a meeting with my advisors in two minutes.”
Using the pad of my thumb, I wiped away the lipstick from his mouth. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
A knock at the door brought me to my feet. I smoothed my skirt while Roman buttoned his collar and adjusted his tie. By the time the door opened, we were seated in opposing chairs at his conference table. Attorneys and accountants took up seats around the perimeter. My gaze met his across stacks of documents.
“Shall we begin?” Before my eyes, he transformed into the cool, billionaire mogul.
“May I ask the nature of this meeting?” I asked, mimicking his casual tone.
“Yes, you may.” One corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. He removed a pen from his pocket and clicked the end of it authoritatively. “Niles, please brief my wife on today’s business.”
An austere, balding gentleman with a posh British accent handed me a large yellow envelope. “As you’re aware Ms.—um, Mrs. Menshikov, your husband has numerous and varied interests in both real estate and business.”
“The short version, please, Niles.” Roman twirled a finger in the air. “Let’s move this thing along.”
I unfastened the flap and dumped the contents of the envelope on the table. “What’s this?”
“The keys to Mr. Menshikov’s castle, so to speak,” Niles said, unfazed by his employer’s glare. Roman leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands in front of him, and nodded for him to continue. “Credit cards and keys, as well as the details to all of your stock holdings and bank accounts.”
I picked up one of the credit cards and turned it over. Roman Donahue. Everything had my maiden name emblazoned on it. His eyelashes lowered, sheltering his thoughts from me. “Once you’ve changed your name to Menshikov on your driver’s license and other pieces of identification, you can update these cards. I didn’t want you to wait for access to our accounts.”
“When did you do this?” Everly’s words came rushing back to me. Roman never does anything without thinking through every aspect of his actions. These things had required forethought and planning. “I thought yesterday was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
His face remained impassive, but his eyes flashed. “I’ve been preparing to marry you since the day I proposed. Continue, Niles.”
For the next two hours, I signed docum
ents until my fingers ached. Niles explained each piece of paper in detail and with great patience. Bank accounts, stock options, company holdings, property titles, and Roman’s last will and testament naming me as the sole beneficiary, along with his daughter Milada and any future children. I blinked at the sheet of paper containing my new net worth. One hundred million dollars? My stomach flip-flopped at the sight of all those zeros.
“Is this a mistake?” I edged the paper toward Roman, thinking someone had misplaced a comma or decimal point.
“No,” he replied without looking at the number.
“Just how rich are you?” I asked. We’d never discussed money in detail. Although his financial status held little importance, as his wife, I probably needed to know.
“Very.” He smiled, flashing white teeth, before tapping the table. “And so are you.”
The sheet of paper rattled in my hands. I dropped it to the table and clasped my fingers in my lap to cease their trembling. I’d never seen so much money in my entire life, and especially not with my name on it. The enormity of my new situation hit me squarely in the nose. My father, who’d been terrible with his finances, had always said money meant nothing. His eventual financial ruin had taught me a painful lesson and turned me into a miser. I could barely stomach the cost of a new pair of shoes, and now I could buy the shoe store—several shoe stores—if I desired.
“I don’t know what to say.” I captured his gaze, trying to read his dark blue eyes, grasping for clues to his thoughts.
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