by Nic Saint
She stopped struggling against him, and stared. “What did you just say?”
“I said that I love you,” he murmured. “I’ve loved you from the first I think, though the details are kinda fuzzy now.” It was those tears, he thought. He couldn’t think when she was looking at him like this. He touched his finger to her cheek, dabbing at the wetness, and wondered if she would slap him across the face or simply kick the living daylights out of him.
He didn’t care. He had to unburden his heart lest it explode in his chest. He took a deep breath, then trudged ahead. “I love the way you smile, and the way you…” He swallowed. “…eat.” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow and he heard the words roll from his tongue but couldn’t stop himself. “The way you make love, fearless and without restraint. The way you can take care of yourself, and don’t take shit from anyone, most definitely not me. The way you can be so fucking stubborn I don’t know whether to kill you or kiss you or…”
Her gaze had softened, those cornflower blue eyes glistening.
He drew her close, and this time she didn’t flinch. “And I love how your body seems to react to mine when we’re close like this, and when we’re making love.”
“Mike…” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
And then he did just that.
CHAPTER 33
Emily’s heart swelled inside her chest. Mike loved her. He really did. And as she drowned in his kiss, the tears kept streaming down her face. She didn’t care. This time they were tears of joy not sadness, and then their kiss deepened and they clung to each other like shipwrecked mariners to a life raft. The last survivors of a terrible ordeal, and in a way they were, survivors of a Mafia war that had raged for years.
She jerked back and gazed into his deep green eyes. “Mike, just to be clear. Are we… I mean, are you…” She bit her lip.
He understood. Before her shocked gaze, he sank down on one knee.
“Emily Fox, will you take me, Mike Petrov, as your husband? I promise to cherish you and love you for the rest of my life, and to stay by your side through good days and bad days, till death do us part.”
She heaved a sob that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her chest, and knew it was her heart that had finally begun to heal from the cracks it had sustained over the years. She laughed and cried simultaneously, as she took his hand and simply nodded, not trusting her voice. Yes, she would marry the Mafia soldier. In a heartbeat she would be his. She’d always been his. He swept her up in his arms and placed her gently on the soft bed.
Very briefly the thought entered her mind that King Francois had anticipated this. Perhaps even now his spies were watching them. She didn’t care. If Armand was watching, he would undoubtedly deliver the good news to the ruler as they were lying tangled up in the king’s bed.
“Make love to me, Mike,” she whispered. “Make love to me now.”
He did, and as he slowly undressed her he took his time, ever so gently peeling back the white dress until she lay naked and vulnerable. And then his large hands were cupping her creamy breasts, his lips setting her aflame, the heat engulfing them both.
Her nipples hardened instantly under his laving tongue, and her throat emitted a soft whimper as she writhed under his burning touch, her quim quivering in anticipation. Their bodies were now so well attuned that the moment he entered her, spreading fire between her thighs, she felt the familiar tremors engulfing her even before he’d curved all the way inside.
His broad shoulders worked as he rose over her, and she let her fingers roam across his chest, the feel of his rolling muscles adding to her arousal. He bucked against her, driving his lance into her with all the power of his muscular loins. She folded her legs across his clenching and unclenching buttocks, reveling in the raw power emanating from his hard body. Sweat pooled between her breasts and he lapped it up eagerly, then sucked in her nipples, deeply quenching his thirst from her flesh while he rammed her like a man on fire.
“Fuck me, Mike,” she urged as she curled her fingers against his powerful neck. He was so long and hard she felt him stirring her deepest core, filling up her cunt all the way to the gates of her womanhood, and as his wide tip spread inside her, she reveled in the knowledge that soon he would fill her with more than the love he’d declared. Soon she’d carry his seed, and bless their union with new life.
He reared up, his brawny arms supporting him as he fucked her deep and hard, and she let her fingers trail along the corded muscles, then slammed her head back against the pillow when the first wave drove her over the cresting summit into her first peak. Her spasming labia pushed Mike over the edge as well, and as their gazes locked, she felt him draining his hot cum inside her trembling belly, pooling there, and igniting a miracle deep within.
Their bodies slick with sweat, they tangled, and their tongues connected. Panting, they both laughed, as the tension they’d both been feeling finally morphed into a world of pleasure.
She caressed a damp curl from his brow, and sighed, then decided to pose the one question that had been nagging her. “What about your house, Mike? What’s going to happen to that lovely house you bought?”
She felt his shoulders lift in a gesture of dismissal. “Small price to pay to be with the woman I love, babe,” he said in his rumbling voice, and a twinge of sheer joy trembled inside her chest. He looked up and grinned. “Besides, who wants a house when you can live in a castle?”
She returned his grin, curling her fingers in his short brown hair, then drew him against her breast. Her heart was full to overflowing, and as sleep gently washed over them, she knew that from this moment on, life would never be the same.
As the two lovers slept—and their deep, even breathing attested to the fact—Armand leaned back in his chair, and placed his hands behind his head with a deep sigh. So the miracle had happened. King Francois’s daring gamble had paid off. He would tell the old ruler the good news in the morning. He yawned cavernously. First he needed some shut-eye himself. He was bone-tired.
Good thing that Mike and Emily would soon take over. Ever since his wife died a few months ago, he’d lost both the heart and the strength to keep giving this job his all. He and Marcia had worked side by side for forty years. In love with life and each other. Now that she was gone he simply couldn’t bring himself to care about the work. All he wanted was to slip slowly into the night, and as disease had been wracking his own body, he knew that very soon now he’d be joining his beloved.
In a few short weeks Mike and Emily would be up and running, and he was certain they’d do a great job, just like he and Marcia had done for the past four decades, ever since a very young Francois had ascended to the throne. The world was for the young, not old coots like him and Francois.
He rose with a groan, and stretched his weary bones. Then looked at the picture of Marcia placed on his dresser and picked it up. As was his habit before turning in for the night, he placed a kiss on the picture, like he’d kissed her every night for forty years before the disease had claimed her for its own.
“Soon, my love,” he whispered to his beloved. “Very soon now.”
He laid down on the bed, and soon sleep took him, a smile playing about this lips, the picture frame of Marcia pressed to his heart.
The sun shone bright on the day Mike and Emily exchanged vows. The royal palace banquet hall had been transformed into a bright yellow sea of daffodils and King Francois had gone to great lengths to ensure the newlyweds their greatest day. On Mike’s side his whole family had flown in, his mother and father and his seven siblings, and on Emily’s side her good friend Laura had shown up, her own family conspicuously absent, a fact she greatly appreciated.
The man giving her away was Prince Rudolph himself, and no bride had ever looked more resplendent in white than Emily, no groom more dapper in a black tux than Mike. And when the happy couple appeared on the balcony—a treat rarely awarded a non-royal—the people of Montinia hailed the couple as if they
were the king and queen themselves.
“I feel like I’m the queen,” whispered Emily as they waved to the ecstatic crowd gathered in the courtyard below.
“You are,” said Mike, pressing a loving kiss on her lips, much to the enthusiasm of the roaring Montinians. “You’re my queen, and you always will be.”
“My liege,” she said with a curtsy, and they both laughed.
“We’ve come a long way from that bar in Brooklyn.”
“Who would have thought we’d end up in a fairy tale?”
They shared a long look. They had come far, and not just in geographical terms. Their relationship had grown and blossomed and now they were declaring their love before the world.
“I love you, Emily,” Mike said seriously, and when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, he dipped her down. Emily tossed her wedding bouquet into the crowd below. A roar went up, and then Mike’s kiss transported her into a world even more resplendent than this one.
Soon their training would commence and they would take up their positions, the king having already awarded them their own private apartments in the royal palace. But today, there was only Mike. Her very own Montinian enforcer.
ABOUT NIC
Nic Saint is the pen name of husband and wife writing team Nicole and Nick Saint. The Saints have been writing together since 2007, initially focusing on cozy mystery books about cat sleuths and bumbling spies, later funny/scary books for kids and finally settling on what they like best: writing romance.
When they’re not tugging at the heartstrings, they enjoy their daily dose of yoga, a great movie, healthy food and a good book.
You can find us at nicsaint.com, on Facebook or Twitter.
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LINKS TO OTHER NIC SAINT BOOKS
Felicity Bell
Humorous Romantic Mystery
One Spoonful of Trouble
Russian Enforcers
Romantic Suspense
Russian Enforcer’s Reluctant Bride
Russian Enforcer’s Virgin Captive
Russian Enforcer’s Feisty Lover
Box Set (books 1-3)
Russian Enforcer’s Resistant Rescue
To Defy a Russian Billionaire
Russian Enforcer’s Burning Obsession
Russian Enforcer’s Dangerous Game
Box Set (books 4-6)
Russian Enforcer’s Royal Engagement
Standalone Novels
Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense
The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue
Navy SEAL’s Virgin Lover
The Pastor’s Jezebel Lover
Billionaire Novelist’s Fiery Debutante
The Russian’s Tenacious Lover
Cozy Mystery
When in Bruges
Once Upon a Spy
Novellas
Romance
Blast From The Past
The Thorntons
Dark Romance
Scott
Roland
Jackson
William
Box Set (all four books)
Excerpt From:
RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S ROYAL ENGAGEMENT
CHAPTER ONE
Diana didn’t know how long she’d been staring at the man. He was tall and handsome and had a hulking quality that lent him a predatory aspect. He could have been a Roman centurion back in the day, or a linebacker for the New York Giants. He was sinfully attractive in a brooding way. He’d been standing there with a scowl on his face for a while now, as if he would rather be anywhere but here, the chip on his shoulder about the size of the State of Colorado.
He clearly felt out of place. Just like she did.
He was darkly bronzed, his black hair long and descending to shoulders the shape of a battering ram. Even beneath the smart tux it was obvious he was all hard muscle, and the thought of him between her thighs made her pussy clench. It had been a long time since she’d reacted like this to any male. The last boyfriend she’d had, Jim Murgatroyd, had been the cerebral type, though his body had been sculpted like a Greek God courtesy of Gold’s Gym. He’d dumped her with a terse breakup text when he’d found someone more compatible, an associate at his law firm. The humiliation and the hurt still stung.
She’d effectively sworn off men, but seeing Centurion Man reminded her that her body had needs. Though her mind said no, her body desperately craved. And what it was telling her now was that she hadn’t been fucked in weeks, her pussy keening to be rocked by a real cock not a latex substitute.
Her breath caught in her throat when he glanced over, studying her from beneath long dark lashes, his piercing amber eyes raking over her, his expression fierce. Then his gaze flicked away, as if dismissing what he’d seen. It was enough to give her a jolt of anticipation. This guy was infinitely more alive than anyone else at this stuffy royal party. Except for her brothers, perhaps.
She looked around. They were all standing in a circle. Alex and Laura, Erik and Jackie, Mike and Emily, her three other brothers Rob, Dave and Denis, and Mom and Dad. They’d all been invited to Mike’s wedding in the small kingdom of Montinia in the South of France and had flown in from the States for the happy occasion.
Only briefly had she considered to stay home, but this was her oldest brother, and he was only getting married once. So even though she wasn’t in the mood for a wedding so shortly after her own love life had suffered a crushing blow, she simply had to be there, if only to meet the woman who’d managed to snag the illustrious Petrov bachelor.
And Emily Fox was everything she’d expected. She was beautiful, smart as a whip, and perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
She took a sip from her bubbly, and found her eyes irrevocably drifting back to the stranger. Unlike her, he stood alone and proud, his eyes incessantly scanning the room. He looked up when a man approached him. It was King Francois himself, square-faced and carrying his white beard like a banner. The king clasped a hand to the man’s shoulder, and they exchanged a few brief words. She frowned. So he was friends with the king, was he? From the looks of him she’d pegged him as security. Ultra-vigilant, not missing a thing.
As the head of security at Lighthouse Casino in Brooklyn, she worked with guys like this every day. Well, maybe not guys like him, exactly. Only in her wildest, hottest dreams.
If he really was security, Mike would know who he was. He and Emily had recently been put in charge of security in the kingdom so that would make Mike Centurion Man’s boss. She glanced over to her brother, dying to find out. She noticed their company had just been joined by Yulian Gornakov and his wife Julia. The Russian billionaire was accompanied by his right-hand man Roman Loginovsky and his wife Dora, the Broadway actress. She returned Roman’s cursory nod in her direction. He was her boss.
Once deemed the head of a criminal empire, Yulian had gone to great lengths to turn his business legit and was still working to accomplish that lofty goal with the aid of Roman.
Her eyes swiveled back to the darkly handsome man who seemed to do something to her insides each time she laid eyes on him. To her disappointment, she noticed that he was walking toward the door. When he disappeared, she heaved an inward sigh. Now there was absolutely nothing left to lift the tedium she always felt at these kinds of occasions.
“How are you holding up, sis?” a voice asked beside her.
CHAPTER TWO
She smiled into Mike’s worried frown. “I’m fine, Mike, just fine.”
He eyed her with that typical penetrating look of his. “You don’t look fine.”
She shrugged. “Must be the jet lag. I’ll be okay.” She gestured around the ornate ballroom. “A couple of days in paradise and I’ll be right as rain.”
“You stay as long as you like,” he stressed, repeating what he’d told them earlier. They were the king’s guests and coul
d stay here as long as they wanted.
“Thanks, Mike, but I’ve got stuff to take care of back home, so…” She didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but late night parties weren’t what she needed right now.
Mike’s eyes raked over her face, and she knew he could see right through her. Mike always could. It was impossible to hide anything from him. “Why don’t you stay a little longer?” he suggested softly. “Who knows, the change of scenery might do you good.”
She nodded. “Thanks for the offer.”
Then he grinned, and his face lit up. “You might even find a decent guy down here.”
She gave him a quick smile. “I just might,” she replied noncommittally. She hated discussing her love life with her brothers, something they were all too keen on in her opinion. She was the only sister they had, and to the last man they were fiercely protective. When Jim Murgatroyd had broken up with her, they’d all offered to break the bastard’s face in return. She’d declined, but the support had warmed her broken heart.
Rob ambled up, a grimace firmly in place. “Great party, bro,” he said under his breath, “but did you really have to get married on the other side of the fucking planet?”
“At least I’m getting married, little brother,” Mike scoffed, clapping him on the shoulder. Rob winced under Mike’s death grip.
“I’ll never get married,” he informed them soberly. “Not if it involves dressing up in a monkey suit, and having to go through an ordeal like this.” The three of them stared at the ornate ballroom and the hundreds of guests, most of whom Mike didn’t even know himself. They were all invited by the king, who thought his newly appointed heads of security deserved the best wedding possible.