To Catch a Princess (Entangled Ignite)

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To Catch a Princess (Entangled Ignite) Page 2

by Caridad Piñeiro


  Once that was over, the final leg of the event would be held back over here in the States, in their Atlantic City casino, and the dresses would be auctioned off to raise even more money for the charity.

  “So far everything is coming together. The display cases should be ready in a month. Tony has hired extra security guards for the lobby as well as for the day of the fashion show. We’ve run security checks on everyone who will be involved with the event, from the staff who will be serving guests, to the designers, models, and assorted assistants.”

  Alexander gathered all the papers into a neat stack and glanced at her. “What about the attendees?”

  Tatiana shook her head. “I’m worried about that. We can’t control who shelled out the thousand dollars for a ticket, but we will have a hidden metal detector at the entrance and guards in the theater area.”

  Alexander nodded and smiled. “Looks like you’ve thought of everything. I wish Kathleen and I could be there for the big night.”

  She sighed wistfully. She wished for that also, but when the plans had been put into place, Kathleen hadn’t been pregnant. Now she was due any day, which made travel impossible. “Me, too, Sasha. But we’ll be moving the show here in a few months, so you’ll get to see it then.”

  “I’m looking forward to that, Tatochka. We could use a big splash here, not only to bolster morale, but draw more people into town and into the casino.”

  Although Atlantic City had recovered from Hurricane Sandy, which had ravaged so much of the Jersey Shore a few years earlier, competition from casinos in nearby states had taken a toll. Less than a year earlier, one of the newer luxury casinos had declared bankruptcy and the other casinos were also struggling. Russian Nights was barely weathering the downturn. The profits were down substantially and they were barely keeping it together.

  “We’ll get through this, Sasha,” she said, and ruffled her brother’s hair in an affectionate gesture.

  He forced a grin and was about to exact brotherly revenge when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, a happy smile swept across his face. Clearly Kathleen was calling.

  “Ko’shechka maja,” he answered with affection, calling her his “little cat.” Tatiana was thrilled that her brother was so happy with his wife of almost three years.

  She couldn’t make out the response, but Alexander straightened in his chair, a shocked look on his face.

  “It’s time?” he choked out.

  Another murmur came across the line and he hung up, meeting Tatiana’s questioning gaze. “Oh my God. It’s time. I’m about to become a father.”

  Chapter 3

  Detective Peter Roman was glad that Sasha had called him with news that Kathleen was ready to make Alexander a dad. He raced along the streets of Atlantic City to reach the hospital. Traffic was light thanks to the winter season, although there was a snarl of cars alongside the Tropicana Casino and the streets nearby were lined with an assortment of outlet stores.

  He cleared his way past the traffic jam, eager to be there for his good friend. And, even if he didn’t want to admit it, for his little sister Tatiana. Peter’s friendship with Alexander had grown during the half dozen or so years that the prince had lived in Atlantic City, but so had Peter’s attraction to the pretty girl who had morphed into a gorgeous woman right before his eyes.

  Not that there was anything between them, or would be, no matter how fascinated he was. He had come to the States during college to have a life far far away from the drama of being royal and the destruction it could bring to a family. Getting involved with a princess was not on his list of things to do. He just wanted to have a normal life.

  The little voice in his head reminded him that Alexander had somehow managed to accomplish that while still bearing the title of prince, and that Tatiana could probably do the same. But Peter had done a hard left and decided that he was better off as Peter Roman than Velikiy Knjaz Pyotr Romanovich—Grand Prince Pyotr Romanovich—only son of Grand Duke Roman Alexandrovich.

  Living under an alias had given him the freedom to pursue a career he loved and to avoid the limelight that had ruined his family. But it had also unexpectedly brought him together with the Ivanov siblings. While he appreciated Alexander’s friendship and had come to think of him almost as a brother, his thoughts about Tatiana were anything but fraternal.

  He could easily fall in love with her—something he really wasn’t prepared to handle, especially since his father and the Ivanovs had cooked up a crazy arranged marriage and his father was now pressing for the agreement to be honored.

  He didn’t want to be forced into any kind of relationship. He wanted the woman he married to love him, and definitely to choose him on her own. Not forced to be with him by an antiquated and totally barbaric tradition.

  In a perfect world, having a woman like Tatiana would be awesome, if she chose him. But the world wasn’t perfect, and getting involved with her was a major problem. For years Peter had kept not only his real identity from the public, but also a very painful family secret. Being with Princess Tatiana would toss him right back into the public eye, and risk revealing all that. Never a good thing in his line of work, especially when he went undercover.

  Not to mention that as stubborn and temperamental as Tatiana could be, he suspected that any kind of personal relationship with her would be difficult.

  He pulled his car into a parking spot at the hospital and rushed into the building, eager to see the latest addition to the Ivanov family. And, despite his reluctance, just as eager to spend time with Tatiana.

  He bolted through the corridors until he reached the waiting room for the maternity area. Tatiana was seated there, her head buried in her smartphone, her fingers flying over the screen as she texted someone. When he came into the area, she slowly raised her head and met his gaze. Her crystalline blue eyes were a shade lighter than her brother’s, but still bore the exotic almond shape that stamped them both as Ivanovs. A flare of interest darkened them for a moment and the barest hint of a smile tweaked her lips before she controlled her emotions.

  She rose regally and held out her hand. “Nice to see you again, Peter.”

  He squeezed her hand and pulled her into a traditional triple-kiss-on-the-cheek Russian greeting. “Likewise, Tatiana. How are things?”

  The smile returned as she stepped back and held up the phone so he could see the picture of Alexander and Kathleen in what he guessed was a birthing room. Both appeared calm, and the love in their eyes was impossible to miss. He hoped they could stay that calm through the whole delivery.

  “They look happy,” he said, the tone of his voice wistful even to his own ears.

  Tatiana nodded. “They are. I hope to be that lucky one day.”

  “I hope so, too,” he said, and as their gazes connected, he detected a glimmer of attraction before the shutters came down.

  “Grab a seat,” she said, offering him the chair next to her as if she owned it. In a way, she did. Tatiana always made everywhere she went seem comfortable and homey for those around her, so it was only natural she treated the hospital environs the same way.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, and plopped down in the chair. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the paper bag filled with sugared cashews he had bought from a pushcart vendor on the Atlantic City boardwalk. He had been working his usual rounds, seeing what was up, when the call had come that Kathleen had gone into labor.

  He unfolded the top of the bag and held it out. “Would you like some?”

  Tatiana stared at the rumpled bag, stained from the oil of its contents, then pulled one sugar-glazed nut from the bag, popped it into her mouth, and chewed. Salty-sweet taste burst over her taste buds. She watched, amused, while he tossed a few of the candied nuts past his lips. The good detective always seemed to be munching on something, which made her wonder how he kept his lean, muscular physique. Which in turn sent a blast of heat to her face as she thought about his body and the many times she had admired it. Dis
creetly, of course.

  “How do you not weigh five hundred pounds?” she teased to fight her dangerous thoughts, and took another few nuts when he once again offered.

  “Fast metabolism. How about you? How do you keep that girlish figure?” he asked, but immediately blushed when he realized his faux pas.

  Chuckling, she said, “You know, a real gentleman wouldn’t ask such things.”

  “Neither would a lady,” he zinged back with a grin.

  “Well, now that we’ve settled that,” she said, and went back to her smartphone to send the photo to her parents and Jim Reynolds, the security chief who had become like an uncle to her and Sasha, as well as Vanessa, her best friend and a manager in the casino.

  When she was done, Peter offered her the bag again and she reached for another handful, mimicking him as he popped some more into his mouth. He chewed and the muscles of his strong jaw flexed. He licked his lips and then worried his bottom lip for a moment, lost in thought. She imagined soothing that spot with her own lips, then pulled back abruptly, shaking her head. She’d had one too many such thoughts on various occasions, and they just didn’t make sense. Peter was older. Although not that much older.

  He was a cop. That meant he put himself in danger way too often. She’d had enough danger in her life already. She suppressed a tiny shudder and pushed back the ugly memories of her brief abduction a few years back. She hadn’t been harmed, just used as a pawn, but she’d been scared shitless. She couldn’t imagine living with fear like that regularly.

  Besides, Peter wasn’t royalty. Not that it had ever mattered to her. She had dated many men who weren’t titled. She had even dated men who weren’t as wealthy as she and her family. She normally didn’t judge a man by the size of his wallet or how blue their family bloodlines were. Too bad her parents did…

  She just didn’t know how to judge Peter.

  He was hard-working, a requirement for any man in her book.

  He was loyal and honest. Honesty being a biggie for her. A real biggie, which was why she had been so upset that Alexander had held back what he knew about the crazy-ass marriage bargain.

  He had always been there to help her family, like during the money laundering investigation three years earlier that had brought Kathleen and Alexander together.

  Plus Sasha trusted him without question, and her brother was usually a good judge of character. Crazy-ass marriage bargain notwithstanding.

  But there was just something…different about Peter.

  Deeper, as if what she saw on the surface was only the beginning. The problem was, she wasn’t the kind to jump into the deep end of the pool without thinking about it first. Thinking about it a lot, actually.

  But the weird thing was, with Peter she often didn’t think, she just did.

  Like the night her brother had been shot during the investigation and Peter had arrived at the hospital. He had sat next to her and put his arm around her to offer comfort. It had felt so natural to lean into him and his strength. To rely on him and just let her emotions go for a change.

  She normally didn’t let loose so easily.

  Which was why he scared her on so many levels. It wasn’t safe to let loose with someone she didn’t really know or understand.

  The chirp of her cell phone pulled her attention away from those crazy thoughts. Nearly an hour had gone by, she realized. She opened the incoming message and tapped to open the attached photo. She made it full screen and shared it with Peter.

  “It’s a girl,” she said happily and grinned with joy for her brother and sister-in-law.

  “Beautiful,” he said, surprising her. It was not the word she would have used to describe the messy baby still covered in who knew what goo.

  But as she met his gaze, it hit her.

  He hadn’t been talking about the baby.

  “Does that line work on all your women?” she said, losing some of the brightness of the moment.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “All my women? Do you think I’m a player or what?”

  “A man who looks like you—”

  “Now who’s giving me a line?” he jumped in, tossing her own words back at her. But the sexy grin on his face took the sting out of what would otherwise have been a dis.

  “—and has that whole bad-boy-don’t-give-a-damn—” she continued without pause until he laid a finger on her lips to silence her.

  “I do give a damn, Tatochka. A lot. Especially when it comes to people I care about.”

  The touch of that one digit was potent as any caress, especially when coupled with the intense way he gazed at her, his golden green eyes darkening with emotion.

  Unnerved, she eased away and tried to re-establish the lighter mood they had been experiencing earlier. Raising her smartphone again to pull up the second picture Alexander sent, this one of Kathleen and him holding the baby, she said, “They make a beautiful family don’t they?”

  Peter nodded and smiled. “They do. I’m glad fate brought Alexander and Kathleen together.”

  “Fate? I would have thought a logical type like you wouldn’t put much store in fate.”

  Peter shrugged and held out the bag with the last of the nuts. “Logic only explains so much, Tatiana.”

  She should know better than to ask, but something about him just made it impossible to hold back. “So what do you think fate has planned for us?”

  He grinned and shrugged nonchalantly once more to hide what she suspected was a well of deep emotions. “You know what they say about plans?”

  “No, what do they say?”

  “God laughs at men who make plans. So I guess we’ll just have to wing it.”

  Chapter 4

  “You said you had important news,” Tatiana said, picking up a pricey gold Mont Blanc pen from her desk to shift it end-to-end as she waited for him to speak.

  It had been several weeks since the birth of Alexander’s baby and Peter hadn’t really seen her since then. It was almost as if they had both been avoiding each other, but now he had no choice but to drop this news in her lap.

  He juggled the papers in his hands, hoping he was wrong, but after checking and double-checking his information and reaching out to various sources overseas, he had no doubt about his conclusions. He opened his folder and handed her the first piece of paper, explaining as she read the article. “This is the first of a trio of thefts around the world of some very expensive pieces of jewelry,” he said. When she finished skimming the article, he handed her the next one.

  She finished reviewing all of them and said with a frown, “I suppose you think this has something to do with our upcoming event in Monaco?”

  Peter nodded. “I do. It’s not just that these are all expensive, nearly priceless pieces that were stolen—many in Europe. They all may have some connection to the Russian royalty who will be attending your event over there. That’s just too much coincidence for me and for Interpol.”

  Tatiana had no doubt about Peter’s sincerity, but she was hoping he was wrong. The event was barely two weeks away, and there were enough things to think about and enough pressure trying to arrange everything from three thousand miles away to add the threat of a possible jewel theft to the mix. But as she met his intense gold-green gaze, he clearly had no hesitation with his assessment. She picked up the photocopy of the first newspaper article and read it more thoroughly. She placed it down before doing the same with the rest, worried that Peter might be on to something.

  “Why have you come to me with this? Alexander—”

  “Is head of the casino corporation, but this charity event is your baby. I thought you should know first.”

  Damn it. She hated that he was being thoughtful. Just one more thing that made it harder to fight her attraction to the handsome detective. With a regal dip of her head, she said, “I appreciate that, Peter. But if you don’t mind, I think we should call in Alexander and also—”

  “The authorities? As I said, Interpol is aware of these thefts and I’ve
discussed them with my contacts over in Europe. They’ve been keeping an eye out, as well. Apparently they think they’re connected to one of Interpol’s Most Wanted suspects, a cat burglar they’ve dubbed the Thief of Hearts.”

  Her forehead furrowed at his report. “You’ve clearly done your homework.”

  “My friends are important to me, Tatiana,” he replied with such determination her heart did a little flip-flop as she imagined that kind of attention to more personal things.

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I think we should call in Alexander and discuss this all together. Decide what to do, since a theft of this magnitude could ruin the casino’s reputation and impact our bottom line. We can’t afford a financial hit considering how things have been going lately.”

  Peter leaned back in the chair and nodded in agreement. “You’re the boss.”

  Tatiana phoned her brother and it barely took a minute before Alexander came through the door, Kathleen at his side, holding their five-week old baby.

  The couple paused to give him cheek kisses, but as Tatiana provided them a short version of his rundown, Kathleen pressed the baby into his hands and he awkwardly juggled the newborn before settling it comfortably against his chest.

  The baby girl opened one eye with an unusual mix of her parents’ blue and hazel eyes, and shot him a suspicious look. With a yawn as if to say she found him uninteresting, she closed her eyes and fell asleep. He returned his attention to the adults and Tatiana smiled as she watched him.

  “Are you sure about this?” Kathleen asked.

  “I have no doubts, Kathleen,” Peter said. “Interpol was just getting ready to issue a notice to the authorities in Monaco. I’ve asked them to forward me a copy, also.”

  Alexander and Kathleen shared a look, communicating silently in that way that married couples do. “We’ll have to beef up security at the casino. Reconsider whether the fashion show—”

  “You’re not about to say we should cancel it, Sasha,” Tatiana jumped in, her temper flaring.

 

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