The Prince's Gamble by Caridad Piñeiro Read Free Book Online

eavesdrop?”
    She couldn’t ignore the bite in his words and battled the rise of her own temper.
    “You looked like you could you use a friend,” she replied in her own defense, although she didn’t know why she really cared about his opinion of her. She told herself he’d done nothing to earn her concern, and yet his actions during dinner and with his sister had shown her a very different man than the one she had been expecting.
    He laughed harshly and shot out of the chair. His long strides ate up the distance to a small bar at one side of his office, where he snagged a decanter and raised it. “Care for some wine?”
    “Thanks, but not while I’m on the job.”
    That acerbic laugh came again before he stalked back over, full glass in hand, and leaned against the edge of the desk, just to the left of her.
    “Are you ever not on the job, Special Agent?”
    His words shouldn’t have stung and yet they did. Since transferring to the FBI office covering Atlantic City, she’d had little freedom for personal pursuits. She’d hoped that in time things would settle down and her New York friends could join her for some fun, but so far it hadn’t happened.
    “If you’re asking if I’m married to my job, the answer is no.”
    “I don’t see a ring, so I guess there’s no Mr. Martinez, but what does your lover think of your long hours?”
    “Lover?” His choice of words threw her and she wondered if it was a language thing. Although Ivanov had been schooled in mostly American institutions, his native languages were French and Russian.
    He leaned toward her, almost as if to kiss her, and in a soft, very sexy whisper, he said, “It would be a shame for a woman as beautiful as you not to have a lover.”
    She blinked. This couldn’t be a come on. There was no way a man like Ivanov would be interested in a woman like her. And although his words brought an unbidden wave of heat and desire, she had no interest in a man like Ivanov, either. Their worlds couldn’t be any farther apart. Not to mention that he was a possible suspect. And especially considering what had happened two years earlier.
    “What about you, Alexander?” she said, almost purring the name in payback. She was being rude and impertinent, since he hadn’t invited her to use his given name, but she figured his remark warranted some kind of payback. “Do you have a lover tucked away somewhere?”
    A man as incredibly handsome as the prince must have his pick of women eager to share his bed.
    His eyes brightened to the color of sapphires as his gaze met hers, without guile or pretense. Spreading his arms wide, indicating the whole property, he replied, “This is my mistress. I’ve no time for any other. I made a promise to myself to make a success of it, for the people of Atlantic City and for my family, especially Tatiana.”
    She understood the first part. She’d read the comments he’d made after Hurricane Sandy and the way he had worked on the city’s recovery in the time since. But she wasn’t getting the latter. “What does the casino have to do with your sister?”
    …
    Alexander took a sip of his wine and considered the beautiful but prickly FBI agent over the rim of the glass. He wondered if he could trust her with anything personal. He was even more guarded when it concerned his sister. But he supposed Special Agent Martinez was in the same boat, wondering if she could trust him. The FBI would surely have him pegged as a suspect for the moment, and although that rankled, he understood the reason for it.
    Deciding that trust had to start somewhere, he answered. “My parents are rather traditional. They wanted Tatiana to return home, find a proper husband, and start spitting out the next generation of Ivanovs.”
    She smiled and chuckled. “Based on my first impressions of your sister, Prince Alexander, that is far removed from what she would want.”
    “Alexander, please. Despite what my sister believes,” he said dryly, “I