LITMIR.BIZ

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have a knack for it.

      He punched the speed dial on his phone for the man he’d had watching out for the princess. “Ivan, where did you last see her?”

      “The casino. She disappeared into the crowd,” Ivan said, his voice filled with fear. More weak emotion. He despised it.

      “You’re fired.” Makhail clicked the end-call button and stuffed the phone back into his pocket, straightening his tie before striding down the electric strip of the only major city on the island of Kyonos. He was willing to bet Evangelina was still in the casino. Gambling away her father’s money, no doubt.

      He moved seamlessly through the crowd, weaving past revelers on his way through the gilded doors. Princess Evangelina wouldn’t be in the main entry trying her hand at the slots. He’d bet she was in one of the high-roller rooms. It was the only place in a casino for a spoiled brat with a penchant for drama and pink champagne.

      He passed quickly through the lobby and headed toward a pair of black doors in the back, flanked on either side by guards in suits.

      “Name?” One of the men asked.

      “Mak,” he said. “I’m here to see the princess.”

      “I’m afraid you can’t just …”

      One of the doors opened and a socialite in a skin-tight dress breezed out, the scent of alcohol clinging to her body. He took advantage of the moment and gripped the edge of the door, pulling it open the rest of the way and walking in.

      He spotted her right away, bent over the table, laughing as she watched the man to her right roll a pair of dice, cheering when the numbers came up favorably. Then she looked up, at him.

      Her dark eyes rounded, her pink lips parting slightly. She touched her companion’s arm and said something quickly before edging away from him. She wasn’t trying to run, not from him. She knew better than that.

      One of the guards rushed into the room and everyone looked up from the game. “Princess,” he said, “is everything …?”

      She regarded Mak cooly, her manner distant, disdainful. “I would prefer it if this man wasn’t here, but trust me when I say there’s no way you can remove him,” she said crisply. “He’s in the employ of my father. You can see that that could become problematic.” Her tone was commanding, haughty. Her dark eyes glittered with anger, proving her collected tone of a voice to be a lie. “So, I’m to be taken back to my cell then?”

      “Your cell?” he asked. “Is that what you call that frilly pink bedroom of yours?”

      A hint of raspberry color touched her golden cheeks. “Not officially.”

      “How did you lose your tail?”

      Her lips curved upward into a smug smile. “Did you see the women at the slot machines in front? The ones who make change for patrons?”

      He shook his head once. “No.”

      “Ah. Well, your guard did. Or more specifically, he noticed the fact that the necklines of their dresses were cut down to their navels. I took the opportunity to slip in back. He must have assumed I’d gone out front, as he’d suggested.”

      Mak clenched his teeth. “He was deluded. Naive enough to believe you would do as commanded.”

      Evangelina raised her eyebrows, her expression overly innocent. “Indeed.”

      “I am not.”

      One side of her mouth quirked upward. “I noticed.”

      He regarded her for a moment. She had a feline quality to her. Lithe, graceful and more than ready to bare her claws if the need presented itself. He could see how she’d managed to intimidate the palace guards, how she’d managed to dupe his men.

      She would not do the same to him.

      “I would recommend, printzyessa, that you come with me.”

      “And if I don’t?”

      “Your father will hear of this,” he said.

      She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Now, her breasts he noticed. She wasn’t showing off every bit of skin she could get away with and still be considered dressed. And it made her figure all the more enticing for it. It made him wonder. Made him wonder if she was golden all over. Made him wonder what her breasts would look like, uncovered for him.

      He clenched his hands into fists, battling the images that flashed through his mind. He didn’t let women distract him. Ever.

      This was an aberration. As unusual as it was unwanted. It would not happen again.

      “I’m not all that concerned over my father hearing about this. What will he do? Lock me in the dungeon? Or perhaps he’ll marry me off to a stranger at his convenience? We both know he won’t do the former, and he’s actively attempting to accomplish the latter.”

      “I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. If your designer heels don’t make it …” he shrugged, “it’s not my problem.”

      Her dark eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

      He took a step toward her. She didn’t shrink, didn’t step away. “You don’t think?”

      She regarded him for a moment. “I’ll allow you to escort me out.”

      He reached out and took hold of her arm, running his fingers over her smooth skin, her flesh hot beneath his palm. He pulled her to him, linking their arms. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “I will allow you to leave on your own two feet.”

      She turned to face him, deep brown eyes blazing with defiance. “Good for both of us, as I imagine the alternative would not have ended well. For you or for me.”

      “Then it’s good you chose the right option.” He held tightly to her arm, leading her from the room. She kept her chin tipped up, her neck craned, likely so she could look down her nose. It gave her a haughty, untouchable air. It made all of the men in the room practically fall at her feet.

      They breezed through the foyer and back out into the damp night air. Salt spray lingered, thick and pungent and the sound of the sea could be heard roaring in the distance. He opened the passenger door to his car.

      “In,” he commanded.

      She complied, stiffly, her posture rigid as she settled into the vehicle, her eyes fixed straight in front of her. He rounded the car and got into the driver’s side, revving the engine and pulling away from the curb, heading in the direction of the palace.

      “So,” she said, her voice conversational, “you won’t tell my father?”

      “No.” It wouldn’t benefit anyone to bring the king into this.

      “I might tell him,” she said, her tone still light, casual. Obnoxious.

      “Why is that?”

      “As I said, he won’t do anything about it. He has no leverage. At least, as far as what he can do to me. Now you … he may fire you.”

      Makhail tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “He won’t.”

      “Really?”

      “No. He won’t. I fired Ivan, and now I personally will be guarding you. Your father knows that there isn’t anyone better suited to the job.”

      “Does he?” she said, her tone flat.

      “Your palace guards can’t keep tabs on you, and they cannot be distracted from issues of national security to deal with a brat who has no interest in her own safety. That leaves me. I am in the unique business of guarding royalty when the built-in protection of a nation proves to be ineffective. And I never make mistakes. It’s regrettable that one of my employees did.”

      “Two,” she said.

      “What?”

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