Page 4 of Mercenary Princess

When Jean Luc’s gaze slid back to her, his eyes heated, sending another tremor of unease through her. “Regretfully, I must leave.”

Sophia managed to suppress a flinch when Jean Luc moved in to kiss her cheeks again, his hold on her arms more like steel bands this time.

He barely moved back before practically purring, “Allow me to show you the true highlights of the city.” Extricating herself from his grasp seemed more urgent as the seconds ticked past. All she wanted was a breath of fresh air. The scent of his designer cologne would be linked with death and depravation from now on.

She injected a note of prim propriety into her tone. “Another time, perhaps. I return to Porenza in the morning.”

His gaze had cooled as he moved back from her cheek, though his charming smile was still in place. “Pity. Do inform my office the next time you visit.” He bowed politely before turning to the stairs.

It wasn’t until he was safely past her guards that she released the breath she’d been holding. Tiffany and the other women were standing close as they watched him exit, likely calling dibs on the Frenchman. That thought was enough to make her shudder. She’d have to distance herself from him as much as possible, not only because his gaze and attitude had mutated dangerously, but because that was what she did in this part of any operation. The operatives did the real work. She and her friends provided marks, a bankroll, and access to locations, the best in covert technology, and planes for doing mercenary work no one else would touch.

When Jean Luc was finally taken down, it would be best if her interactions with him had only been brief, chance encounters. Eight years of experience proved that removing a man with his kind of power could get very messy. In the end, everyone in Jean Luc’s world would be scrutinized by government agencies all over the world, not to mention the media and other watchdog groups.

Her status and proper persona protected her. She was, after all, the “prim princess of Porenza.” Who would think she and her friends had anything to do with taking down powerful, elite members of society the authorities wouldn’t, or often couldn’t, touch?

She only had a few scant moments for her tension to ease before another visitor, a designer at whom she smiled fondly, was already sashaying toward Antony. Sophia waited for him, her lips quirked in welcome, while surreptitiously tracking Jean Luc and his group as they headed into another private balcony section. His security closed the privacy curtains once the men were ensconced in their space.

Sophia sucked in a deep breath and greeted her flamboyant designer acquaintance while she prepared to endure another hour in the club. The need to escape her guards and her gilded cage, for even a few hours, was more necessary than she would ever admit. Freedom in whatever form she could get it was becoming more important to her than air nowadays. It didn’t matter that she’d be working, hopefully uncovering some of Jean Luc’s secrets with her team, or that she’d be sleep deprived when she faced her mother the next day.

Though she could think of a better reason to be sleep deprived. But the Russian was definitely off-limits, no matter how much he wanted to stare at her ass.

She stifled the urge to squirm as she felt his eyes running all over her skin.

With a fortifying breath, she focused on John Paul, her designer friend. He would require little conversation on her part, which was something to be grateful for since the hour ahead would likely test her in more ways than one.

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