Chapter 18

London, England

Viktor absently slid into his tuxedo jacket while looking out the window at the cloudless night. He spared a glance for the envelope on his desk while considering the night to come.

When had he developed the need to see Sophia outside these walls? The charity dinner she was attending was one to which he declined invitations every year. He was a very generous donor, but that didn’t mean he wished to suffer through an evening with men and women he didn’t like. For her, though, he would, since he’d be sleeping alone until tomorrow.

His princess had gotten under his skin and had even forced him to bend his rules. Everything about her seemed to call to something inside him. He enjoyed her spirit and the logical mind she hid from the world. Her innocent passion called to a tenderness he hadn’t known existed. And the vulnerability and loneliness she hid so well called to protective instincts that had long since been reserved for those who belonged to him.

His protectiveness seemed to be driving him now. He wasn’t sure what she’d gotten herself into, but nothing he’d seen had added up. He needed to see her in her realm.

*****

Gilded walls and priceless artwork adorned the two-story ballroom. The crystal chandeliers dipped low, sending flickering light up to the fresco painted on the ceiling more than two floors above.

Sophia tuned out the background music. She didn’t need to turn to know Jen was close, situated against the wall at Sophia’s back, while Antony and Marco watched the front and rear entrances.

The walls and discreet alcoves were filled with dark-suited security sporting earpieces. This was only the beginning. As the night drew on, several of the most sought-after musicians would take the stage as the wealthy dined and conducted business. Each year, this event took on a global cause. Tonight’s dinner raised money for programs that helped those who’d been rescued from human traffickers. Sophia would have preferred it if more of her donation had gone to the cause rather than to pay for the entertainment, but that wasn’t how things were done.

A glance confirmed the Duke of Hellshire was standing, in all his lecherous glory, on the opposite side of the room with one of her mother’s friends.

Sophia nodded absently, having been surrounded by people since the moment she’d arrived. Her current companions were in their seventies and required little assistance in carrying the conversation, for which she was thankful. Those were her favorite types of companions. Her gaze flickered to the champagne fountain while willing a white-gloved servant to pass by with a tray, as her glass was nearly empty. Plates of caviar and truffle bites circled the room, but not the champagne she wanted.

She took a sip from the glass in her hand.

Men and women in brightly colored tights rolled down flowing fabric fastened on the ceiling, and a trio of jugglers had set up in the perfect spot to block her mother’s closest friend, Lady Celia, from easily moving to her side. Sophia had had enough of the woman. She’d had enough of her mother as well, but she would play nice.

New arrivals were being announced at the top of the sweeping staircase to her right. Most everyone would have arrived already, as dinner should begin shortly.

It was taking all her energy to keep the tension from her face. Jean Luc was set to attend, yet she hadn’t seen him. They still had nothing on the bank or anything else, for that matter.

Lord and Lady Alexander Weatherford. The names were announced as Sophia found a champagne-bearing servant. She traded her nearly empty flute for a full one.

Fortifying herself, she smiled instead of gritting her teeth as Lady Archibald, one of her mother’s favorite frenemies, approached with Hellshire on her arm.

Better to get this over with, Sophia thought. Then her gaze flickered to a spot over Hellshire’s shoulder, and she instantly stilled. Jean Luc was speaking to a high-ranking British politician in the corner. She took a small sip of champagne, wishing it were something far stronger.

Just as she was about to greet Hellshire, Jean Luc turned in her direction. After a quick glance around, his cool gaze settled on her like a heavy weight. The contact lasted a split second before someone caught his attention, but she swore, even at a distance, the interest in his eyes had been unmistakable. Dread set in. She’d have to be very careful when he finally approached her. And he would. Of that, she had no doubt.

Hellshire was the one to save her from her thoughts. “Your Royal Highness.” She’d never admit to being glad to see him, but when the alternative was a monster, she would deal with a pig any day.

“Your Grace,” she said as the baby-faced duke kissed her cheeks. They spoke for only a moment before someone drew his attention away. Unfortunately, the duke’s new conversation partner allowed Lady Archibald to station herself at Sophia’s side, sharing her thoughts on the available men.

Mr. Viktor Petrovich Popov.

That booming announcement almost buckled her knees. Instead, she clenched her fingers around the delicate stem of the champagne flute as she fought to maintain her composure. Her eyes darted to the staircase, and all the moisture left her mouth.

He was absolutely gorgeous, wearing a tuxedo that had obviously cost a fortune. At his side was a man she recognized as having been a Fortune 500 member for years. He and Viktor seemed comfortable as they spoke.

Hellshire’s friend stepped away, and the duke turned his attention to the staircase. She heard the man mutter, “Popov is here? That’s surprising.”

The duke didn’t seem put off by Viktor’s presence, merely curious. Viktor’s family history was a bloody one. She knew more details than were readily available because of James, but most would know his father and uncle had waged a bloody criminal war against one another over business a decade ago. His family business had been human trafficking among other dark dealings. It had taken young Viktor years to clean up the mess.

Some of the darker rumors said he’d killed his uncle and half the men on either side. She wasn’t sure, but she did know one thing—his uncle and father had been cruel and wealthy, with old, very corrupt bloodlines and ties to the Bratva.

Several of Viktor’s cousins, who’d taken over the darker business that Viktor severed ties to, had ended up in prisons for crimes in Russia. She had no doubt Viktor had blood on his hands. But didn’t she as well? He’d protected Feliks and refused to deal in trafficking, even when his family held the ties and fortunes were made. In the world she lived in, there were a lot of gray areas. In her eyes, he’d always been a good guy, though she’d be insane not to be wary over his penchant for collecting the secrets of the rich and powerful.

“Why would he be here?” There was no mistaking Lady Archibald’s acid tone.

Hellshire turned to the other woman and stated blandly, “Considering he is the largest donor here, I’m surprised our host and hostess aren’t fawning all over the man.”

Sophia tried not to take pleasure in the woman’s pinched look, but it was a difficult task. Lady Archibald was all about bloodlines and old money. Sophia now had a hint of respect for Hellshire, though that respect fled the second his beady eyes landed on her breasts with enough heat to make her want to murder him.

It seemed Hellshire had been correct in his assessment. Sophia watched as the host and hostess arrived swiftly at Viktor’s side. He smiled at them, but his eyes scanned the room.

Was he looking for her?

Hellshire and Lady Archibald started up a conversation about the duke’s country estate, as Sophia’s eyes kept shifting to her obsession. When his gaze locked with hers, it was as if the world melted away. The heat in his eyes seared her to the bone.

Hellshire’s loud guffaw shocked her back into the moment, none too soon, as she felt warm all over. Lady Archibald was still tittering away and hadn’t seemed to notice Sophia’s distraction, but the weight of another set of eyes seemed to suck her into a void. She felt a tingling on the back of her neck and knew without looking that Jean Luc was staring at her. The interest wasn’t there, but there was calculation and something else before he smiled at her. She was forced to give a respectful nod and smile since she’d been snared in his gaze.

It was the reminder she needed to be alert and careful. Jen would no doubt be tracking Jean Luc’s movements and everyone the Frenchman had spoken to, but the crush of people and entertainers might not allow for her or the security cameras to detect everything.

This was not the time for a distraction, and Viktor was the only man with the power to crack her façade. She had to keep her mind and eyes off him.

Why had Viktor come to the event if he never had before? To drive me insane, Sophia thought. Watching women flock around him all night is going to be a nightmare!

More of her mother’s friends and acquaintances made the rounds to speak with Sophia when Hellshire stepped away. If only Lady Archibald had also retreated, but the woman seemed to have designated herself as Sophia’s chaperone for the evening, or at least the mingling portion. Sophia would not be seated next to the woman at the actual dinner, thank God.

She knew Jean Luc was coming toward her without looking. She could feel his eyes, and it wasn’t the same as the way it felt when Viktor had watched her in Paris. No, Jean Luc’s gaze made her uncomfortable. It left her with a twisting in her gut. She’d always thought it was because she’d known his name would come up on the list at some point. But in reality, it felt like her instincts warning her of danger.

She maintained her serene façade and kept her posture perfect as she waited. She’d just said her goodbyes to an old acquaintance when she turned and found Jean Luc in front of her. “Your Royal Highness, a pleasure as always.” He kissed her cheeks, and it took a lot of skill to maintain her composure.

She exchanged platitudes and quickly brought Lady Archibald into a conversation with him about the artwork donated to the charity’s auction while praying he wouldn’t ask her on a date in front of her mother’s friend. It felt as if an hour had passed before Covington came into her sights. She caught his eye as tactfully as possible, without appearing in a hurry to have Jean Luc out of her sphere. The British peer rescued her without realizing it. Covington was kind, and Forde was correct—the man was very much not attracted to women. He was interested in having a wife; however, Sophia wasn’t interested in having him as a husband, no matter if he was the best on the list. Covington made conversation with Jean Luc, and she lucked out. The Frenchman was signaled to have a word with the French president, who’d just arrived.

Jean Luc’s eyes flashed with annoyance before he leaned in to kiss her cheeks again. He spoke just loud enough for Lady Archibald to catch, damn him. “I will be in London for another day. I would enjoy nothing more than to take you to dinner while I’m in town.”

“How very kind, but I have commitments nearly every moment of my stay in London.” She kept it polite, not apologetic, playing the staid, demure princess who wasn’t aware she was being hit on. She could almost feel Lady Archibald’s disapproval, but the woman didn’t say anything as Jean Luc took his leave.

Moments later, the woman finally got her dig in. “I’m surprised you rebuffed a prominent man like Jean Luc.”

Sophia tilted her head. “I do have a full schedule,” she stated before lowering her voice, “and I may have already narrowed down the list to a handful of more suitable prospects.”

The woman’s gaze grew shrewd. “Who are they?”

She smiled at the woman. “I think you may already know.”

Before Lady Archibald could drill her for more information, she went back to greeting the many people who sought her out in the short time before dinner was announced.

The night was dragging painfully, and every interaction seemed to suck the life out of her.

*****

Sophia had been seated in the dining room in such a way that she was facing the man she would gladly strangle. Somehow, fate had decided to gift her a perfect view of the man with whom she needed to avoid eye contact.

Hellshire was at her side, thankfully talking with the person on his left. The aristocrat to her right was speaking to his mistress. Sophia was incredibly glad the lights were dim. She hadn’t been able to eat any of the courses that had come as entertainers took the stage. The only good thing had been that Jean Luc had been seated at the entirely opposite end of the massive space. The candlelit dinner allowed her to relax a fraction, and most everyone was entranced by the music or their table partners.

That was not the case with her. She was anything but content. She was antsy and needed a moment to get herself together.

Making her excuses for leaving for a few moments, she stood, catching Jen’s attention where the guard stood sentry by the table.

“I need some air.”

“Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Jen responded respectfully.

A few guests lingered in the main ballroom. Most were watching the show in the dining space as Jen escorted her through a sweeping corridor that led to a sunroom, in which more guests seemed to be having private conversations. The old mansion was nearly the size of a palace, and a large number of high-society events were hosted there because of its sheer size and opulence.

Black-clad guards stood in the shadows, projecting a higher sense of security. Sophia and Jen reached the bank of French doors, and Sophia felt a hint of relief. It wasn’t raining, but the moon had to be shrouded because the only thing she could see beyond the massive stone patio was pitch black dotted with flickering lights of the garden paths. She needed just a few minutes to take a breath, and then she’d get through the rest of the night.

Jen stepped through first before allowing Sophia out. Guests lingered here and there with their cigarettes and cigars identifying them more than the soft outdoor lanterns that spanned the elms and gardens of the sprawling estate.

Sophia followed Jen to a marginally private section of the patio that contained stone steps, and sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. They didn’t speak. It wasn’t wise in a place where eyes and ears could be everywhere.

Sophia nodded to an acquaintance she’d already greeted earlier in the evening. She was afraid that if she stayed outside too long, she’d get trapped in a conversation. Better to brave the indoors. She could sit in the dark dining space and pretend to eat.

Jen led her through a different doorway and down a wide corridor beside the library.

She noticed the hall wasn’t completely empty as a guard exited the library. When she saw the tattoos beneath the collar of his jacket, Sophia stilled and shot a look at Jen. Her guard only stiffened. Ivan slipped a jamming device from his pocket and handed it to Jen. The woman glared at him before checking that the light was on. If Sophia wasn’t mistaken, it was the same model they had. She noted another familiar-looking guard blocking the other side.

“It’s important,” the Russian murmured for their ears only before heading in the direction she and Jen had just come from.

“What do you want to do?” Jen quietly asked.

She wanted to commit murder, but that wasn’t exactly an option. With Jen at her side, Sophia stepped into the library and the space Ivan had vacated. She was furious and knew the man who’d ignited that fury was in the dark room that smelled of old paper and leather. The lights were off, so video wouldn’t have a good view even if the jammer hadn’t been on. Her blood sang, and her nerves felt on a knife’s point. Being in this room wasn’t wise, but the whole situation was bad, and she wasn’t sure it could get worse. She felt his warmth, had time to suck in his sexy masculine scent, one completely devoid of the cologne that seemed to permeate the mansion, and she hated that, even mad, she still wanted him.

She found herself pulled into strong arms, a warm breath teasing her ear. His voice was low, almost guttural. “There are no audio or video feeds in here.”

Her traitorous body melted as lips slid to her ear. She pulled away and hissed, “What are you doing here? And why would you corner me like this? I have no doubt there are other cameras in all the corridors. The jamming equipment isn’t going to work on them all. And I’m sure security has already detected the distortion in here.”

“We have time for this,” he gritted out quietly.

She couldn’t see him clearly, but she could feel him. He didn’t care that Jen was there, witnessing it all.

“I’m leaving.” His tone said he wasn’t happy about something.

Her heart stilled. “The event? Or London?”

She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until he pulled her back into his arms after handing Jen what looked like a piece of paper. “The party,” he practically growled. Why was he angry? “I want you to do something. I’ve given your guard a list of men you do not talk to. Do not accept dates from them, and if you have, cancel.”

Her mouth dropped open as she tried to decipher his hard features in the dark room. “Excuse me?”

He practically growled in her ear, “They are men who may or may not be on your mother’s list. If they are on my list, you do not speak to them. You do not date them. They are not men for you.” She could feel his big body vibrating before his mouth came down on hers. He took advantage of her shock and swept his tongue inside her mouth to ravage hers. His hands slid to cup her ass, pressing her against his building erection. She couldn’t help the soft moan that slipped from her before she broke it off.

When he released her, he didn’t speak, and she was too dizzy and shocked to utter a word.

He was gone before her mind had caught up with his demands.