Page 27 of Mercenary Princess

He raised an eyebrow at her in question. “And you believe that’s changed?”

“Your man said it was ‘in my best interest’ to see you in London. Why don’t you tell me what he meant by that?”

“Would you believe it a simple miscommunication?” Her commanding fury was that of a queen, not a princess. There were many sides to the beauty before him. In his arms, she was passionate and wild. In the media, she was proper and elegant. While escaping her security, she was rebellious and athletic. And in those deep chocolate eyes, he saw secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Her next words were stern yet challenging. “You saw me sneak out of my hotel room. I’ll admit it would make life more difficult if that got back to my brother, but it’s not something I’ll pay to keep quiet.” Her gaze grew a fraction harder. “Or was the whole break-in about something else? Did you video tape what we did?”

He frowned at her accusation.

*****

Sophia was furious, and even that hadn’t prevented her from being attracted to him. He unnerved her. The way he watched her walk into the room nearly made her falter. Raw sexual energy crackled around him with every flex of muscle beneath the expensive dress shirt and slacks. The leashed danger in his tense shoulders and chill of his gaze would make a sane woman step away, but instead, she felt herself sway forward.

“You think I recorded you coming for me?” The clipped tone and hard look left no question as to how offensive he found her question.

She felt a million emotions all roiling through her at once. Fury and fear were in a cold, hard tie for first, but there was also embarrassment and frustration at how he still affected her.

Her traitorous body couldn’t care less whether he was innocent or not. Her breasts heaved in the bodice of her dress, her nipples pressing into the material the second his accent thickened. It was harder to breathe as he drew even closer. She didn’t retreat. She couldn’t force her feet to move as he towered above her once again. The heat from his body rolled over her, through her, making her crave more. That alone was an indication that she needed to get the hell out of there.

He was like a damned drug.

She couldn’t leave until she learned what he had on her because she wouldn’t turn her back on a predator. Slowly drawing in a fortifying breath, she studied his gaze, needing to be sure she wasn’t seeing what she wanted to see. Did she crave some mindlessness so badly after her hellish week that she’d hop into bed with a man trying to extort her?

No.

She assessed him closely. Could he seem that genuinely offended while lying? He’d have to be a damned good actor.

Don’t let him be a good actor.

Her eyes moved to the drink he’d yet to let go of. His fingers were tight around the half-empty glass of clear liquid. Vodka? How very Russian of him. Her lips turned up slightly of their own accord.

Am I losing my mind?

Her eyes flickered back up, noting his cold gaze seemed caught on her lips. When his gaze flashed back to hers, it had turned to something else.

Mouth suddenly dry, Sophia firmed her resolve and demanded, “Are you saying you didn’t record me?” She wanted to believe it, but she had to be cautious. Her instincts were usually good, but with him, she wasn’t sure she could trust them at all.

“No, I did not.” The sharp denial sounded sure.

She studied him, fighting the arousal building in her blood, making her hot, her skin too sensitive. “So all you have on me is sneaking out of my hotel room. You thought that was enough to get what, exactly?”

He moved with the grace of a panther as he entered her space and stood so close she could run her fingers over all the muscle under that smooth shirt. She felt the hints of anger rolling off him, but it wasn’t anything close to the electric attraction. His size and demeanor should be intimidating, but that was the last thing she felt from him. Her body swayed of its own accord, and she tensed every muscle to stop herself.

Her eyes darted to the buttons of his dress shirt as she thought of the one she’d found in the hotel room. The one she’d saved. It was in her makeup case, a memento that she couldn’t force herself to toss out.

A naïve part of her had held out hope that he wasn’t the villain his message had made him out to be.

“I have done many despicable things, Princess, but I would not record anything I do to you for blackmail.”

She stared at him, dissecting his words, his tone, and what he hadn’t said. Does that mean he’d record us for the pleasure of it? Her cheeks flushed with heat, because that was too much like her dirty fantasy version of him.

“I do not need to force women into my bed.”

She cleared her throat and pushed all her unsettling thoughts away. “Yet you force them into your home.”

“I saved you from yourself, Princess.”

She gave him a hard look. “How so?”

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