Biker Outlaw's Princess: An MC Romance

by Bella Rose

  She glanced over at her surprisingly odd copilot. “We’re there. I’m going to circle and start our descent. Once we hit the ground we should probably move quickly.”

  Blair started her approach, a little surprised that the tower hadn’t hailed her just yet.

  The moment that thought went through her mind, her radio came to life. “Delta, niner, niner, we don’t have you scheduled to land here today.”

  Blair read the words on the paper, trying to make them seem unrehearsed. “I realize that, Tower, but I need to refuel or I’m going to be falling out of the sky.” Blair crossed her fingers. “You know how it is when a customer changes their mind about the destination. It’s a chartered plane and company policy says listen to the customer.”

  “Sure enough, Delta, niner, niner. You are clear for landing.”

  “Thank you, Tower.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Blair thought that they were good up until the moment they hit the ground. As soon as they were wheels down, she saw a swarm of emergency vehicles emerge from a hangar. Mikhail was already on top of it. She saw him texting furiously on his phone.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  “My brother says someone tipped them off that we would try to use this airstrip to land.” Mikhail grimaced. “We’re going to have to find another way out.”

  Blair’s mind was spinning. She should be trying to escape. That had been her plan all along. Now, she wasn’t so sure. At this point she had broken so many rules that she would have a hard time trying to sell the authorities on the idea of her innocence. Besides, could she really claim that Mikhail had held a gun to her head? There was something so sad about him when he talked of his desire to do something other than what was expected of him. If the authorities picked him up now, he’d never have a chance to go straight.

  Everyone deserves the chance to make a choice.

  “I’m aborting our landing.” She hurriedly began to accelerate in an effort to get the plane back in the air.

  Mikhail gave a curt nod. “And then what?”

  “Text your brother. Tell him we need an alternate place to land.” She didn’t even bother to check her tone. “You and I need to get out of here before they arrest both of us.”

  Chapter Five

  Blair fought the airplane back into the sky, managing to avoid the welcoming committee on the ground. There had been quite a plan in place to keep them on the ground and pin them down. Blair wondered about Ethan. Hopefully this meant he had managed to contact the authorities.

  Mikhail gently touched her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she advised. “We aren’t on the ground. And I hate to tell you this, but it seems probable that Ethan ratted you out. I don’t know how much he knew about your plan to go to Vegas, but maybe that’s how they knew where to find us. If that’s the case, we could be circling the ground for a freaking year and they’d just keep waiting for us down there.”

  He was texting, looking completely unruffled and almost bored. She reminded herself that he was her captor, not her friend. He wasn’t going to care what happened to her after all of this and she needed to remember that. Her decision to abort her landing was looking worse and worse each second.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demanded. “Your expression is all over the board.”

  “Fine. You want to know what I’m thinking?” She blew a stream of air up toward the lank hair hanging in her face. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m sick of trying to land and take off under ridiculous circumstances. I cannot even manage to decide if you’re a good guy or a bad one, and that is starting to make me question my judgment.”

  “I’m not a bad guy.”

  “But that’s what a bad guy would say, wouldn’t he?” She hated the almost frantic note in her voice. “I’m in this up to my elbows and I wish I wasn’t. Okay?”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” His gaze was so intent that she had to look away. He gave a dark chuckle that made her belly knot. “How about this, Blair Edwards? I will keep you with me until I reach Russia. At that point I will be safe. Then I will ship you home as part of a deal with the FBI to release my hostage. That should ensure your name is cleared.”

  “You would do that?”

  “I think you have more than earned that degree of cooperation on my part.” There was something almost wry in his tone. “I have put you in an untenable position and you were doing nothing but trying to follow your company’s protocol.”

  Blair couldn’t help but wonder if he did this often. “Take many hostages, do you?” She tried to keep her tone bland.

  “No. Never.” He didn’t even bother to try and look chagrined. “And considering how much of a bother this has been, I won’t be doing it again.”

  ***

  Mikhail followed Blair’s lead and remained silent for the rest of the flight. Ivan had still not checked in to tell them where they were going, and this worried Mikhail more than he would have liked to admit.

  “Has Ivan contacted you yet?” she finally asked after fifteen minutes of thick silence. “We really need to get on the ground.”

  “Be patient.” It was all he could offer. “Ivan will come through eventually.”

  “Not helpful.”

  “You’re very sassy for someone who is—in point of fact—still more or less a hostage.”

  “Go ahead and shoot me,” she snapped. “I dare you.”

  “Cut the sarcasm,” he growled. “I was merely trying to get a better feel for the things that make up your character.”

  “Well don’t.”

  “Where did you grow up?” he asked. “Surely that is an innocuous question, is it not?”

  “Chicago, actually.”

  Mikhail wondered how her parents had been killed. Had they been murdered in a robbery? Killed in a car accident? He had a feeling their deaths involved a senseless act of violence.

  His phone trilled, bringing him back to the present. Ivan had sent him a list that made no sense to him. He held his phone out for Blair to see. “Does this make any sense to you?”

  “They’re coordinates for an airstrip outside of Vegas,” she explained. “Ask your brother if there’s a tower there, or if it’s deserted.”

  Mikhail dutifully relayed the questions. Ivan immediately responded and Mikhail offered the information to Blair. “He says there is no ATC, and that you’re on your own for a landing. He will have a car waiting though.”

  “Gee, that makes it all better,” she muttered.

  “Is there a problem?” Mikhail frowned. “Because if there’s something amiss, I need to know immediately.”

  “This is a weird relationship we have going on here,” she told him. “You realize that, right? You have the gun and the power, and yet you are totally dependent upon me. And no. There isn’t really a problem, except you’re putting an awful lot of faith in my ability to use my instrumentation to get us on the ground safely.”

  He shrugged. “You seem like a competent pilot. You handled it like a pro at the other airstrip.”

  “I am a pro. And yet I have to tell you that this landing worries me.”

  Mikhail considered her worry. It seemed reasonable, yet she had shown herself to be more than competent. “You’re honest about your apprehension. I can appreciate that.”

  “Would you know if I wasn’t being honest?” she asked drily.

  Mikhail drew a blank. The woman had a very valid point. He supposed he would just have to trust her. At this point it wasn’t as if he had any other options.

  ***

  The first stars were just beginning to twinkle in the desert sky as Blair headed the nose of the jet toward the ground and prepared to land. Her heart was hammering against her ribs and she thought she might actually be in danger of throwing up. She knew how to land a plane without the tower calling any instructions, without any runway lights, without markers, and with no ground crew to scrape her off the runway she was attempting to land on.
She had done just that a few hours ago at that ridiculous airstrip in Nebraska. But this was completely different. It was dark outside. She had nothing but her instruments to tell her where the ground was. And at least the other place had been a runway. It had been dirt, but this was worse!

  It was a dirt track. Not even level. She could only hope that the weight of the aircraft was enough to eliminate any traction issues. She grunted as she fought the controls. Finally she felt the wheels touch, bounce, bounce again, and then settle. She quickly began slowing down. Having no notion how long the airstrip was, she was pretty aware of the danger that little problem could pose.

  “Well done!” Mikhail crowed.

  “That tone of voice makes me believe you were a little more nervous than you were letting on,” she accused. “And you should have been.” She managed to get the plane to a full, if skidding, stop. “Because we damn near died just now.”

  “I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit for your skills with an aircraft,” he gushed.

  “You’re sort of creeping me out with all the positivity,” she told him. “How about we go back to brooding mobster? That one was more realistic.”

  Oh he did not like that! His face sobered immediately. “Let’s collect my bags and go find our ride.”

  “Your bags?” She snorted in disbelief. “Do I look like your luggage service, Mr. Romanov?”

  “Okay, so that was a poor choice of words.” Mikhail seemed annoyed. “I will collect my bags. You can collect yours. Let’s just go find our ride. I need to get to a hotel where I can fully contact my brothers for a conference.”

  It only took Blair minutes to exit the plane and begin unloading his baggage from the underbelly of the craft. She used her cell phone for a flashlight. If she had been smart she would have been texting the authorities and telling them where they could find Mikhail.

  At least the guy traveled lighter than some of the other clients that Skye Aviation ferried all over the country. Mikhail only had a suitcase and two bags, one of which had his computer in it.

  He piled his bags into a manageable position and looked around for Blair. She had her one overnight satchel looped over her shoulder.

  “That’s it?” he asked, looking surprised.

  “I live in Chicago. I was supposed to be home tonight, so I didn’t bring any clothes with me.” She tried not to sound too accusatory.

  He didn’t respond, walking in the direction she figured the car must be located in. She followed along because there was really no other option for her at this point.

  “Doesn’t the mafia own most of Las Vegas?” Blair wondered out loud.

  He nodded. “Why do you think we came here?”

  The fading twilight had disappeared and the black sky was awash with the bright pinpricks of a thousand stars. “So can I safely assume that this plane will just disappear as the car we’re looking for just appeared?”

  “If you’re inquiring as to whether or not this airstrip is used on a regular basis by men in my line of work, the answer would be yes.” His teeth flashed brilliant white in the fading daylight. He had a nice smile, for a mobster.

  ***

  Mikhail was beginning to think that Blair could not decide if she wanted to like or hate him. Of course that was probably a rational reaction to their situation. “You think of me as a criminal, don’t you?” he asked her. He was truly curious to discover the answer.

  “Aren’t you?”

  “In the eyes of most, I suppose I would be viewed as a criminal, despite the fact that I rarely touch that end of the family business.”

  She gestured to the sedan sitting unobtrusively in the shadows. “Looks like the sort of generic car a criminal would drive to me.”

  Mikhail wasn’t sure why, but it was very important for her to understand something. He stopped walking and faced her head-on. “With a few notable exceptions, the Bratva run more legitimate businesses than illegitimate ones these days. Where we frequently tangle with the US officials revolves around taxation.”

  “Nobody likes taxes, Mr. Romanov. We pay them because that’s the legal thing to do,” she said irritably.

  Mikhail grunted. “Taxes are really just one entity trying to steal from another. Who is to say which organization is in the right and which one is in the wrong? It is all gray area as far as I am concerned.”

  “Are you telling me that you hijacked a plane, took hostages, landed at a deserted airstrip near Vegas, and are currently trying to illegally leave the country all because you didn’t pay your freaking taxes?” Her mouth was hanging wide open now.

  He started walking toward the car once again. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

  “Oh my God! That’s exactly what it is!” She hooted as though she were going to fall down laughing.

  “I don’t like giving my money to the US government so they can spend it on ridiculous programs that do not even benefit me because I am not a citizen.” He couldn’t believe how grouchy he sounded. He was almost petulant!

  She scoffed. “So go back to Russia.”

  “What?”

  “Go do business in Russia if you don’t want to pay American taxes,” she told him. “You come here because you like this country, or something about it. You do business here for a reason.” She had the audacity to put her finger almost in his face. “You got to pay to play, Mr. Romanov.”

  “That’s preposterous,” he muttered.

  He fumbled under the front bumper until his fingers closed around the key to the vehicle. Unlocking the door, he pushed the button to unlock the passenger door as well. Opening his mouth to order Blair to get inside, he was a little surprised when she hopped in without being told. Heaving a sigh, he popped the trunk and stowed his luggage. Finally he got into the car and shut the door.

  “Gotta say, Mr. Romanov,” Blair drawled in a sassy tone. “I’m not impressed with the mob life so far. My car at home is way nicer than this hunk of junk. Not only that, but I’m not on the run for tax evasion so I get to enjoy my own apartment and sleep in my own bed without fear of being arrested.”

  “For the love of…” Mikhail groaned. “Do you enjoy provoking me or something?”

  “Immensely,” she said with relish.

  Chapter Six

  Apparently Blair had a death wish she was unaware of because she could not seem to quit poking at Mikhail Romanov. He was such an easy target. And the worst part of that was the side effect it was having on her opinion of him. How could she actively hate a man who could take the teasing while simultaneously admitting that he really wasn’t all that into the family business of violence and law breaking?

  She kept silent on the drive into Las Vegas. The long hours of strain were taking their toll. So while the city that never sleeps was continuing its twenty-four-hour party, Blair was in desperate need of a bed. The flashing lights of the strip seemed to sear the backs of her eyelids in neon colors. Finally they pulled up beneath the vestibule of a towering monolith of a hotel and casino called The Red Star.

  “Ma’am?”

  It took her a moment to realize that a valet had just opened her door. Blair groaned as she hauled her butt out of the vehicle. Seconds later Mikhail had pulled her hand into the crook of his arm and was sweeping through the front doors of the hotel as though he owned the place.

  “Mr. Romanov, how lovely to see you again.” It wasn’t the front desk clerk, but the hotel manager who greeted them. He held out two key cards. “Your regular suite is ready for you.”

  “Thank you.” Mikhail gave a regal nod of his head and they headed for the elevator.

  Once inside, it occurred to Blair’s exhausted brain that the hotel manager had specified one suite. She poked Mikhail in the ribs. “I want my own room.”

  “No.”

  Not even an argument or explanation? She set her jaw and prepared to argue her case. “No? I’m not some woman you picked up on the strip. I want my own room and some privacy.”

  “Exact
ly. If you were some woman I had picked up on the strip I would know exactly where you would be, because I would be paying you to be there.” Mikhail’s cultured voice made this insulting diatribe sound perfectly reasonable. “So you will stay with me while I need to be certain that you are not running off to alert the authorities to my location.”

  “Asshole,” she muttered.

  His eyebrows shot up so far that she expected them to launch right off his forehead. “Excuse me?”

  “I called you an asshole,” she clarified. “Mostly because what you said sounds perfectly reasonable, but no less distasteful to me in any way.”

  “I don’t suppose I can argue with that.”

  “Then we are both on the same, disagreeable page, are we not?” Blair crossed her arms primly and refused to look at him.

  The elevator stopped. She realized that they were on the very top floor. When it opened, the only thing she could see was the Vegas skyline spread out below them like a fairyland. It was absolutely breathtaking.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  Blair gave a completely unladylike grunt of disapproval. “I think you’re trying to make me take back what I said about my lifestyle being more desirable than yours.”

  ***

  Mikhail wasn’t going to say that she was right, but she was right. Her comment about the crappy car had stung his pride more than just a little. Although the view from his hotel suite had been an unintentional move to impress her on his part. It was his usual suite.

  Mikhail directed Blair to the bedroom just off the main living space. “You may have the bedroom to yourself. I rarely sleep anyway. The bathroom is attached. Please feel free to relax as you wish. I’m sure you must be exhausted after the long day.”

  “Obviously.” She sounded a little sulky, but instead of being annoying he found her charming. It was like he was losing his damn mind.

  “If you need anything, feel free to call room service.” He decided to head off the inevitable. “And the phone does not dial out of the hotel without my permission. I apologize if there was a loved one you wanted to contact, but that’s impossible at this point.”