Page 17 of Mercenary Princess

“It will.” Had she said that last thought out loud? She must have.

His answer held far too much arrogance, yet she found it sexy as hell. His gaze burned as he slid his eyes over her flushed, half-naked body. Her nipples peaked even tighter, begging for his touch.

He stalked from the room before she could say another word, leaving her with the knowledge that she’d set in motion something beyond her depth, regardless of how much she wanted him. Viktor was on another level.

His questions had been dangerous—not that he asked them, but that her body and reactions had revealed too much. Being around him was a threat to her secrets and her sanity. One night in his bed might ruin her. How could having more of him be the letdown Jen had assumed it would be? He’d made her come in a split second and taken nothing for himself.

It was suddenly very silent in the other room, and that cleared the lust fog along with her breathing. She ran a shaking hand over her bare stomach.

What had the Russian really wanted? Sex was obviously part of the equation, but that was after the questions. Could she believe he wanted to make sure there wasn’t another man?

With her renewed sanity came a jolt of unease at the realization of how badly she’d screwed up. She jumped from the bed and put on her shirt before pacing the room, poring over how the night’s events could bite her in the ass. The options she came up with weren’t exactly pleasant ones.

Her eyes caught on a button by the door. It was from his shirt. Her fingers closed around it without thought. She should throw it away, but her hand tightened until she felt the imprint of it on her palm instead.

She couldn’t call Jen into the room because she had no idea when the guards would wake and how they would react. It would be best if they found her sleeping alone. Jen being in the room when they woke would cause questions. It would negate Viktor’s assessment that the men would wake alone at their posts and say nothing to prevent from getting fired. That meant she was stuck in the room, doing her own search for hidden listening or video devices while her body tensed in reaction to every tiny creak in the building. Her heart raced, and her blood pounded in her head as she peered through slats in the vents, in lamps, and at the phone, knowing that at any moment, her men could wake and rush in to check on her. After doing the best she could, she turned off the lamp and sank into her bed, mentally cursing. Had she looked everywhere? Her guards had the only devices for sweeping the damned room. She’d have to change that in the future.

If Viktor had somehow recorded what they’d done, she would surely murder the man or die of embarrassment. She hadn’t considered that kind of blackmail when she’d been begging him to screw her. Putting her face in her hands, Sophia squeezed her eyes shut at her behavior. He’d broken in! And how did she reward him? By letting him put his hands and mouth all over her. She’d have let him do far more than that. Hell, she’d demanded he do far more than that.

She hadn’t been smart while he was there. Her hormones had completely taken over. Her justifications were hardly sound now that she was alone in the dark. She rubbed her temples, mortified by how he’d boldly smeared her lips with the evidence of how needy she’d been.

Her “harmless” fixation with that man hadn’t turned out to be so damned harmless after all.

The second she heard movement in the outer room, she stilled beneath the bedcovers, praying all ended well and that she hadn’t missed any hidden recording devices.

Please don’t let there be a sex tape.

A rapid knock at the door stilled her.

“Your Royal Highness?”

---