Biker Outlaw's Princess: An MC Romance

by Bella Rose

  “I only wanted to check on Ethan.” The note of worry in her voice tugged at him. “I don’t have anyone else. It’s not like my job needs contacting. They’re pretty aware of what’s going on. Or at least what they think is going on.”

  She turned away and headed for the bedroom. At the last second, she looked over her shoulder. “Thank you for letting Ethan go, and for not hurting me. Oddly enough, it’s very decent of you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  His phone began to ring, eliminating the need to castigate himself for being so damned accommodating to a hostage. Although could he really call her a hostage anymore?

  “What do you have for me, Ivan?” Mikhail said into the phone. He headed for the windows to gaze out at the view. For some reason, the sight of the dark desert behind the brilliant Vegas skyline always soothed him.

  Ivan got right to business. “You need a day to layover in Vegas while we get you a passport and papers.”

  “Does Aleksei’s contact still live here in town?” Mikhail avoided names and places out of habit.

  “Yes. He’ll find you tomorrow first thing.” Ivan paused a moment. “Are you planning to dispose of your hostage?”

  “No. I’m going to bring her with me.”

  “Excuse me?” Ivan sputtered. “What would make that a good idea?”

  “For starters, the authorities will be looking for a single man.”

  “Ah, I see.” The pause suggested Ivan was considering the wisdom of saying more. “So it’s not because you have become weirdly infatuated with this woman?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Mikhail said firmly. “It’s purely practical.”

  “Keep saying that, big brother,” Ivan told him grimly. “You might even start to believe it yourself.”

  ***

  Blair awoke slowly, her brain trying to figure out where she was. She had slept deeply, and the only thing she could come up with was that she must have forgotten to set an alarm because it was entirely too bright outside. Then she realized that she was wearing nothing but a fluffy white bathrobe that wasn’t hers.

  “What the hell?”

  Someone knocked on the door and she sat straight up in bed. This was not her room. It wasn’t even her apartment. She was in the penthouse suite at The Red Star because Mikhail Romanov had taken her hostage yesterday. Sort of.

  “Blair?” Romanov’s deep voice drifted through the door. “I realize that you don’t have any clothing or much in the way of personal items. If you’re agreeable, I’ve arranged for the hotel’s personal shopper to pick up a few things for you. She just needs to get some measurements.”

  Personal shopper?

  Blair slipped out of the bed and padded to the doorway. She belted the robe securely around her waist and held it closed at the throat for maximum coverage. Finally she felt decent enough to crack open the door.

  Mikhail stood a few paces back. There was a smiling woman standing right in front of the door. “Hi. I’m Aubrey. If I can just ask you a few questions, we can make this as quick and painless as possible.”

  “Okay?” Blair shot Mikhail a look of suspicion before allowing Aubrey into the bedroom.

  Aubrey was a little bit like a whirlwind. She clapped her hands and got started immediately. “Oh my, this should be so easy! You’ve got delightful coloring, you know that? Warmer tones, I think, with some jewel tones thrown in for a splash of color.” Aubrey pulled out measuring tape. “Here we go. Oh yes. Size eight, I would have guessed anyway. Perfect.”

  Blair felt like a doll. She answered a few more pertinent questions about style preference and thought she might have said yes, yes, and no, but none of that really mattered. Aubrey was done and swore she would be sending up a selection within the hour.

  “Blair?” It was Mikhail again. “I’ve ordered breakfast on the terrace if you’d like to come out and eat some while we wait for your clothing to be delivered.”

  “I’m not agreeing to naked breakfast!” Blair called back through the closed door.

  His masculine laugh sent a riot of chills up her spine. “So keep your robe belted on and you won’t be naked. I believe the definition of naked is a true lack of clothing, not simply a lack of daywear.”

  “Do you have arguments with women about this topic often?” Blair shouted the question.

  “Often enough.”

  Her stomach growled insistently. She couldn’t even remember when she’d last eaten a real meal that didn’t involve a vending machine at the hangar. Really, if she tied the belt of the robe super tight and then knotted it, she should be decent. Right?

  “All right,” she reluctantly agreed. “I’m coming out.” She immediately thought of her friend Ethan and burst into laughter. “Okay, not like that! But I’m exiting the bedroom.”

  ***

  Mikhail could not help but be charmed by the laughter, even if it did come from behind the closed doorway. Then Blair did as she suggested and exited the bedroom and Mikhail nearly choked on the words he was trying say.

  “What?” she asked, two frown lines appearing between her eyebrows. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “Come, the terrace is this way.”

  He led the way through the living room toward the wide windows overlooking the skyline. His eyes kept returning to Blair’s long slim legs. The robe was rather voluminous, but he could still make out the athletic shape of her body. She was taut in all the right places, round in the hip, and full in the chest. Her hair was sleep tousled and her eyes appeared huge. She looked as though she had just risen from a lover’s bed. Or perhaps that was just the picture that his mind was painting for him.

  “Personal shopper, hmm?” Blair mused. “I would have been happy enough with a quick trip to a cheap department store, you know. I try not to waste too much money on clothing since I spend most of my time in my uniform.”

  Mikhail walked through the French doors leading to the terrace. He pulled out a chair and gestured for Blair to take a seat. She looked in danger of giggling. He wondered at that. “You seem determined to laugh at my attempts at chivalry. Why?”

  Her smile died a quiet death. “You know, I’m not sure. But it is rude of me. I’m sorry. I appreciate the whole gentleman act.”

  “It isn’t an act,” Mikhail said stiffly. “Even if you were nothing more than a business associate I would pull out a chair for you, or open a door, or offer to help you procure clothing if you had none.” He considered that last one. “Especially if I had been the reason you were adrift with no luggage.”

  She carefully picked up her napkin and placed it in her lap. “You know, it’s odd. I still think of you as a criminal. Yet you’re more of a gentleman than any other man I’ve met.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Blair,” Mikhail said gently. “You deserve better, I think.”

  She seemed uncomfortable.

  He struggled to lighten the mood. “Please feel free to eat whatever you’d like. I wasn’t sure what you preferred so I had them bring just a little bit of everything.”

  “Said every hero in every romantic movie, ever,” she quipped.

  Mikhail smiled. “I think a graduation from criminal to romantic hero is good progress.”

  She blushed, and he could tell she was searching for solid conversational ground. “So tell me what the plan is.”

  “Igor should be here soon to create our new identities,” Mikhail said with a smile. As he had expected, that immediately got her attention.

  ***

  Blair was trying to hold it together. First, she didn’t want to let Mikhail’s charm affect her too much, and second—how on earth was she supposed to keep a straight face when they were waiting on a guy named Igor?

  “You actually know a real human being outside of a book named Igor?” she finally asked.

  “Certainly.” His tone was serious, but there was amusement that shone in his dark eyes. “In fact, I believe he’s here now.”

  “How do you know that?�
�� Blair hadn’t heard anything at all.

  Mikhail pulled out his phone. “I just got a text informing me of that.”

  “You cheated!”

  “I wasn’t aware there was a game to which we were bound by rules.” Mikhail seemed to be truly enjoying this banter. It was unexpected, but he found it pleasant all the same. He got up from the table. “I’ll just go have a chat with Igor and you finish your breakfast.”

  Blair polished off two croissants, a pile of fresh fruit, a Danish, and some sort of thin pastry with cheese that she suspected might actually be Russian. Through the open French doors, she could hear the two men arguing in low voices. They weren’t speaking English. That was certain.

  She got a glimpse of a squat man wearing a dirty white T-shirt and baggy cargo pants. He looked unsavory. In fact, this man looked more like the criminal she would have expected from a mobster. Or maybe he looked like a mobster’s lackey. Blair could no longer be certain what her perceptions were. She simply knew that she was quickly losing the battle not to fall for the quick wit and charm of one Mikhail Romanov.

  Someone else knocked on the door to the suite. Seconds later, Aubrey breezed out onto the terrace with three assistants and a boatload of clothing on a rolling rack. It was like having the store brought right to her door!

  “Are you ready?” Aubrey asked with obvious excitement. It was plain to see that the woman loved her job. “You’re going to love these items. I just know it!”

  “Hit me,” Blair said with humor.

  Six pairs of jeans, seven blouses, a box full of underwear, a package of socks, and three pairs of shoes later, Aubrey finished up by trying to convince Blair that she most definitely needed an evening gown. Blair wasn’t so sure.

  “Where would I wear the thing?” Blair wanted to know.

  Aubrey looked mystified. “In the casino? Mr. Romanov is one of our high rollers, you know.”

  “Yes, but it’s the middle of the day!” Blair argued.

  “It’s Vegas, sweetie.” Aubrey’s tone was blasé. “It’s always after five o’clock around here. Besides, Mr. Romanov is footing the bill. You should take advantage. Everyone else always does.”

  That comment soured Blair in a way that nothing else could have. She held up her hand, not willing to be gainsaid in this instance. “No evening gown. That’s final.”

  Aubrey seemed to know when she had been bested. “All right then. The ladies and I will put the rest of these items in the bedroom.”

  “Thank you.” Blair turned in her chair and picked up her coffee. She took a sip and tried to remind herself that this was not real life.

  Chapter Seven

  Mikhail knew that he could not throttle Igor. They needed the man’s skills and he would be useless to them if he were incapacitated. Still, it was tempting.

  “Igor, would you please just do your job?” Mikhail tried to be patient. “You’re being compensated very well.”

  “Yes, but it is a very different thing to make fake papers for a hostage,” Igor whined. “That means extra risk. I think I should get extra money.”

  “You’re getting extra money. Aleksei is paying you for the rush job,” Mikhail reminded him.

  “And you want her to be your wife?” Igor looked uncertain. “What if she gives you away at customs? That’s very foolish, Mikhail.”

  Mikhail snapped his fingers so hard he thought his joints might explode with the anger. Igor seemed to realize that he’d overstepped. The sniveling worm began backing toward the door.

  “Igor?” Mikhail said expectantly. “By three o’clock this afternoon. And I want to be on a flight out of this country by midnight.”

  “Yes, sir.” Igor rubbed his bulbous nose with the back of his hand. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

  “Duly noted,” Mikhail said through clenched teeth.

  He turned and had a look around the suite. It only took him a moment to realize that Aubrey and her assistants had filed out of the suite in a much more subdued manner than they had entered. He wondered what had happened. Blair wouldn’t be the type to stand about and be primped like a prized poodle.

  “Blair?” he called out, unable to find her.

  Her voice drifted in from the terrace. “I’m still out here.”

  “Is everything all right?” Mikhail approached her slowly, wondering what had happened to make her look so serious.

  “I’m not going to be like the other women you’ve had up here,” she told him with a solemn expression on her face.

  He wondered what had brought this on. “I hardly have a parade of women that I bring to this hotel, and the nature of our association is such that I cannot imagine you being at all like any one of the few I’ve brought here before.”

  “It was Aubrey who let it slip,” Blair admitted. “She told me that you were picking up the tab so I should do like all the others and take advantage.”

  Mikhail couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed until his eyes watered and his sides hurt. He should have stopped himself because Blair was looking incensed. Unfortunately the nature of the misunderstanding was too funny not to laugh at.

  “What?” Blair demanded.

  “Aubrey was talking about my sister, Maria,” he explained. “Maria adores Aubrey’s taste and loves the idea of shopping while reclining poolside here at the hotel.”

  Blair’s face turned bright red and she jumped to her feet. “I’ll just go get dressed then.”

  Mikhail let her go. Nothing else mattered right now. He had just been treated to the most delicious bit of knowledge. Blair had been jealous. Apparently she was not as unaffected as she might wish to be.

  ***

  Blair hadn’t been sure what to think when her unusual companion suggested that they go gamble to kill time. The casino was vibrant with the clanging sound of slot machines, the electric beeping of the digital gaming consoles, and the groans and shouts of the hundreds of people that seemed to be everywhere.

  “Everything all right?” Mikhail asked. He put his hand on the small of her back and ushered her through a throng of people gathered around a slot machine.

  “I’m fine,” Blair said quickly. She didn’t want to sound like a total stick in the mud. “I’m just not used to going out.”

  “Really?” He gestured to a card table. “Would you like to try?”

  “I’ve never gambled,” she said doubtfully.

  His smile made her belly clench. “Then allow me to introduce you to the pastime.”

  “I feel like you’re offering to help me along the highway to hell.” She gazed at the table, noting that the sign said the game was blackjack.

  “Nonsense.” He leaned down until his lips nearly brushed the sensitive shell of her ear. “There are much more provocative ways to do that.”

  “I don’t have money.” Even Blair could hear the feebleness of her protests.

  “Not a problem.” He snapped his fingers and a tuxedoed casino employee came running with a container of red and blue chips. “Let’s have a seat, shall we?”

  “There’s no one else at the table.”

  “All the better. You only have to beat the house.” He pulled out a chair, indicating that she should sit.

  Blair licked her lips, trying to fight the urge to join him. “That means statistically my odds are terrible.”

  “The fun is in trying.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

  She could have never imagined how much that one choice would affect her perception of Mikhail. He was an incredibly patient teacher, and an all-around fun person to be around. The rhythm of the casino cocooned them from the rest of the world and she discovered that she was capable of relaxing long enough to just sit and enjoy herself.

  “See?” He pointed to the growing pile of chips before her. “You’re quite good at this.” He indicated his own dwindling pile. “Much better than I am.”

  “You’re letting me win,” she accused with a smile. It took her a moment
to realize that she was flirting.

  He leaned closer. “If I let you win, perhaps you’ll like me better.”

  “I’m not sure I should like you any better,” she told him breathlessly. His eyes were so beautiful. Their gleaming depths made her feel warm and tingly inside. It had been far too long since she’d taken a lover, but something about Mikhail gave her naughty thoughts. “I think I like you far too much.”

  His lips were only a scant distance from hers. He smelled clean and spicy, like a pure infusion of masculine power she could not resist. And when he moved even closer she realized that she was holding her breath in anticipation. Blair heard a roaring in her ears as her heart hammered a staccato beat in her chest.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered.

  She couldn’t have resisted if she wanted to. “I’m going to let you.”

  His lips were soft. He tasted sweet, like mints and something else she couldn’t identify. He moved his mouth against hers, making love to her with no more than a kiss. Then his tongue slipped over the crease between her lips. She parted them in surprise. He swept inside her mouth and dominated her senses. Searching for an anchor, she reached out and grabbed his arms. Her nails dug into his dress shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  She thought she might go up in flames right there at the table. Everything below her waist throbbed as the visceral response to his kiss caught her completely off guard. Blair grew slippery between her legs and she squirmed in her seat with restless need.

  “Blair,” he murmured against her lips.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you very badly.”

  His honesty made her bold. “I want you too.”

  “Why?” He actually looked surprised.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe because you aren’t what you seem? You’re a good man, Mikhail Romanov. You’ve just been living in a world that doesn’t give you any good options.”

  “Oh, you mean all of my tax evasion?” he teased.

  She pressed her lips to his again, forestalling any more conversation. “Let’s go upstairs before I change my mind.”

  The dealer cleared his throat. Blair had forgotten that he was even there. The man smiled at them. “Mr. Romanov, I can have your chips collected for you if you are through at the table?”