Page 2 of Mercenary Princess

The club erupted with a wave of heavy, thumping bass. The DJ, Feliks Petrovich Popov, was skilled and a celebrity in his own right because of his creative music mixing. His brother’s financial empire only added to his fame. She blamed Feliks for her obsession with his brother. The DJ was an old boarding-school acquaintance of hers, which was where she’d first laid eyes on the Russian eyeing her. The two men were polar opposites, possibly because of their ten-year age gap. Feliks was playful, fun-loving, and boyishly handsome, while his older brother was dark, intensely sexy, and extremely dangerous.

She caught her guards eying the area where Viktor sat, which meant he was still focused on her, a fact that would undoubtedly get back to the palace and her self-righteously conservative brother, William. She wondered whether William would dismiss Viktor’s interest or blame her for somehow encouraging it. Her brother’s potential reaction was another reason not to get caught staring in the Russian’s direction and yet just one more reason she wanted to. Reckless impulses like that seemed to be dogging her every step these days, and they needed to stop.

The Russian billionaire was said to be incredibly ruthless, deadly even, with old family ties to the Bratva. He was definitely not on her mother’s list of suitable companions.

She mentally sighed. It had been eight years, and he’d only gotten sexier since the first time she’d seen him.

Sophia stood at the edge of the quad, the whoop, whoop of the helicopter blades signaling a guest. Her long hair whipped against her cheeks as the massive black beast landed. She was just as curious as everyone else about who was visiting La Couronne, their elite Swiss boarding school. Bodyguards, including hers, stood protectively between the students and the newcomers, which seemed odd since the dean was already there to greet whatever high-profile guest had arrived.

When the door opened, she’d found herself rooted in place. The air left her lungs in a rush. There was something almost electric and very dangerous about the man who stepped onto the lawn. His long wool coat sat on wide shoulders. The material whipped in the air behind him as the powerful rotors wound down. His hair was shorn short enough that it didn’t move in the wind, almost as short as the manly stubble on his strong, hard jaw. His was not the face of a mere boy. She’d guessed he was in his early twenties, though he held himself like a full-grown man.

She felt her heart rate speed in a way she’d never experienced with the boys at her school. Even from a distance, she could see that his eyes were sapphire and hard, warning any sane girl away. Those eyes had likely seen very bad things. She shivered, knowing there was every chance he’d done those very bad things. That intent gaze scanned the area, searching for something, completely overlooking her and the other girls standing stunned at her side.

Never in her life had she encountered a man like him. Diplomats, politicians, princes, and heads of state—yes. Though this man wore a dark suit just as perfectly tailored as those civilized men and held himself with the same demanding confidence, his eyes said he was of a different breed altogether.

Suddenly feeling warm in her snug navy sweater, Sophia shifted the collar while sucking in a deep breath of crisp fall air. It was impossible to take her eyes off the man as he stalked forward with old Chadwick at his side. Geez, the dean’s graying head only reached the other man’s wide shoulders.

Her friends’ low voices trailed off into the wind. Sophia was too focused on the man in front of her to pay them any attention. Several tattooed and scarred men surrounded him, guarding a man who didn’t look like he needed anyone’s protection. She caught glimpses of leather holsters and the butts of weapons inside their coats.

Her own guard stood ahead of her, watchful, his suited shoulders tense. Somewhere through the din in her mind, she’d heard Tony instruct her to head back into the building. She ignored the guard as she waited to see why the newcomers were there. Helicopters came in fairly often, bringing family members of students or taking students home for breaks. Who could he possibly be there to see?

From the corner of her eye, she saw Feliks Petrovich Popov, a boy two years younger than her, exit the school. She knew him as a well-liked and happy guy, always playing jokes. When he ran to the man from the helicopter, her mouth gaped open. This could not be the boy’s older brother, the one Feliks bragged about any chance he could. They’d all thought his tales were mostly lies since the boy was far too happy to belong in a family that was part of the seedy underworld.

The way the man’s eyes warmed as he clasped the boy on the neck and pulled him in affectionately made her insides flutter. The action was protective and loving.

Viktor… She remembered the name Feliks had used. She shook her head at the way he looked down at Feliks as the boy beamed up in sheer adoration. The two were nothing alike, but their affection for each other was obvious.

She felt a pang in her chest, and her hand moved to subconsciously ease the ache. She couldn’t imagine her brother giving her his attention like Viktor was giving Feliks. Neither William nor her parents had ever touched her with any semblance of affection unless it was for cameras. If she’d been waving her arms, completely immersed in the excitement of some story, as Feliks was, her family would have admonished her harshly for not behaving like a princess.

Sophia shook off the memory. She’d been so enthralled by him in that long-ago moment that she could actually remember the scent of the fall leaves that had fluttered in the air. That had been the first and only real time she’d lusted after a boy, and he’d been anything but a boy then.

That he was even more devastatingly tempting at thirty-two was proof that life wasn’t fair. His hair was longer, his features sexier with age. His eyes were only slightly less deadly than they had been eight years ago, yet the intensity banked there was like a raging wildfire roaring straight through her bloodstream.

Sparing an assessing glance in her entourage’s direction, she confirmed that Tiffany and the other women were dancing, their attention on the light show and the crowd-pleasing enthusiasm rolling off Feliks as he hopped to the beat.

With all attention currently off her, she raised her glass again and allowed her gaze to drift in Viktor’s direction. She held the glass suspended at her lips as their eyes connected. Even with the distance and his dimly lit seating area partially obscuring her view, she felt a shot of electricity slide over her skin, sending tingles of awareness coursing through her body. How was that kind of chemical attraction even possible? She’d lusted after him for years, but to be on the receiving end of his bold appraisal was something very different and far too enticing.

It made her crave something she couldn’t have.

Viktor was seductive in a way no man should be. He lounged in a chair, his long legs stretched before him, and all she could think about was climbing over those strong thighs and straddling him before ripping his shirt open and using his body. It didn’t matter that he was surrounded by men and women, to whom he paid no attention, or that armed, tattooed guards stood at the private stairs going to his section and beside his leather seat.

She groaned mentally.

Having him in her sphere was rapidly becoming a harsh lesson in frustration. The space between their VIP alcoves could have spanned an ocean, and they’d have been more likely to interact. There was enough firepower between his guards and her own to ensure their worlds could never collide.

A “prim” princess of a small country and a ruthless Russian billionaire with a dark history—it was definitely not a match for the storybooks.

Was he playing some kind of game? Seeing if he could unnerve her? Was that the reason for his sudden, blatant show of interest? Annoyance and a hint of disappointment trickled through her at the thought. She didn’t want her fantasies of him ruined by reality. It was time to end whatever this was.

Steeling her spine, she spared a thought for her guards. Jen glanced over, but Sophia wasn’t worried about the female guard. The others were her brother’s pawns—men who would protect her while reporting every detail of her life to her family. After ensuring Antony and Marco were focused on the crowds, their backs to her, she stepped back a fraction to obscure her actions from those on the floors below. All permanent security surveillance had been dealt with so that no one could sell the feed to the paparazzi.

Taking advantage of the moment, she turned her attention to the Russian, finding his eyes still on her. She tilted her head a fraction then lifted her glass in a slight, challenging toast. He only had the power to unnerve her if she gave it to him, and she couldn’t allow that to happen, so calling him out seemed the best move. She returned most of her attention to her guards and the women she’d invited, but not before she caught the barest nod from him before he lifted his tumbler to those firm, sexy lips. He hadn’t returned her toast, but she hadn’t expected him to.

One of his men leaned down to speak to him, thankfully diverting his attention.

Nowshe could focus. She had to.

Jen cocked an inquisitive brow in her direction. With a miniscule shake of her head, Sophia indicated everything was fine.

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