The Russian's Tenacious Lover (14 page)

“God,” she moaned. “Don’t stop, please, Tom. Never stop.”

“Trust me, I won’t,” he murmured against her ear, as he took a firm grip on her hips, taking her with all the force of his being. Then, suddenly, the sound of Jenn reaching her climax carried her over into her own, and she couldn’t help crying out with the extreme pleasure of it all. And then Tom, too, was on the verge, and when she felt the heat spreading inside her, the sensation of his pounding flesh at the heart of her sex erupting, she knew he’d reached the pinnacle.

Gasping, her legs trembling, she reveled in the sensation of being held by him, his touch firm and good. “Glynis,” he whispered against her ear, “I—”

“What the devil is going on in here!” a voice brusquely interrupted him.

To her horror, Glynis watched the door of the closet being yanked open and the furious form of a very naked, very irate Russian oligarch appear before them, Jenn right behind him, a sheet wrapped tightly around herself.

Ever so slowly, Thomas turned around and faced the fuming oligarch.

The man’s eyes went wide at the sight of the naked couple in his closet, then wider still as he took in Tom’s face staring back at him.

“Why, Eduard! What the devil are you doing in there, son?”

“Hello, Dad,” said Thomas, a little sheepishly.

Glynis’ jaw dropped, and as she eyed Tom, he threw her an apologetic look, then gently tugged down her dress so she was decent again, and escorted her out.

CHAPTER 26

“Don’t tell me you were sightseeing, Eduard,” growled Rostislav. He’d always known his son to be something of an eccentric, but hiding in closets making love to his guests was about as much as he could tolerate from the impertinent young hound.

“No, Dad. Just showing this wonderful lady around the place.” He indicated his lady companion. “Glynis Fox, meet my father, Rostislav Mamykin. Dad, I’m sure you’ve met Glynis? She’s Hugh Fox’s daughter.”

His mood instantly mellowed. He liked the old devil. “I know your father very well, Miss Fox,” he said courteously. “A fine man and a great friend.”

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, wondering why she was eyeing him with wide-eyed horror. Then he remembered he was still dressed in a sheet.

“Pardon my state of undress, Miss Fox. You found me at an inopportune time, I’m afraid.”

Though from the looks of things, she wasn’t dressed more appropriately than him, and Eduard, the young rascal, had been naked from the waist down when he came upon him. He clucked his tongue at his eldest.

“Really, son, can’t you think of a better place to entertain this young lady? You have your own room, haven’t you? Why not take her up there if you’re in such a hurry?”

“You have your own room?” said Glynis, finally having found her voice.

“I have.”

“You live here?”

“No, he doesn’t,” corrected Rostislav, who liked to make matters clear from the start. “Eduard has a suite at The Rialto. Don’t ask me why he should prefer to spend the money while he has a perfectly fine place here, but there it is.”

Eduard merely shrugged, and Rostislav wondered what the hell was going on. Some sort of misunderstanding, he figured. Well, that was none of his business. What was his business was the fine lass he’d met, so he turned to her. “Jennifer. Meet my son and his lady friend. Eduard, Glynis, this is Jennifer Crocket.” His smile widened as he put a hand around Jenn’s waist. “My new bride.”

Jenn grinned at the couple and took a curtsy. From the expression on her face, she seemed to know them. Well, of course she did. All young people knew each other these days, didn’t they? What with Facebook and all.

“Haven’t you forgotten the small matter of your current wife, Dad?”

Rostislav gave him his best scowl. “She won’t be my wife much longer. I’ll see to that!”

“Too bad,” remarked Eduard, the infernal rapscallion. “I kinda liked the fifth Mrs. Mamykin.”

“Well, I didn’t,” he countered. “Now are you going to get out and give us some privacy? Or do you insist on hanging around to watch your old man…” He hesitated, not wanting to turn an already embarrassing situation into a farce. “Well, that’s neither here nor there,” he concluded quite lamely. Then he thrust out his three chins. “Jenn and I would like to be alone. So scram, will you?”

“First I would like to clear up a small matter, Dad,” Eduard insisted as he carefully closed the closet door. “Do you remember the Fox pearls I acquired for you a couple of years ago?”

“I do,” he confirmed, impatient to get back to his fiancée and the continuation of their business.

“Glynis would like them back,” said Eduard softly. “They mean a great deal to her family, her mother in particular.”

He eyed Glynis closely. So that was the thing, eh? She’d come here to get those pearls back. He wavered. They were his now, of course. “I did pay for them, you know,” he tried, then watched Glynis’ face cloud. He saw how his son’s arm possessively clung to the woman’s waist, and thought he’d never seen him quite this smitten before. With a keen eye, he saw the situation for what it was, understanding finally dawning. He nodded curtly, and said, “Very well. Reach behind you, will you, Eduard?”

He gestured to the painting of Saint Nicholas, which hung suspended from the wall next to the closet.

Eduard’s eyes widened as he exchanged a look of understanding with his pater. “You don’t mean to say—”

“I do.” His face softened. “I always told you they were kept close to my heart.”

Eduard smiled, and quite unexpectedly stepped forward, clasping his father in an embrace. “Thanks, Dad,” he murmured.

Rostislav cleared his throat, not at all comfortable with this display of affection. “Don’t mention it. Now just take the damn thing and get the hell out, will you?”

Before his eyes, Eduard reached up and lifted the painting from the wall, then placed it carefully on the small cabinet holding a washing basin, and removed the string of pearls from the wall, where they’d neatly fit behind the frame.

He knew he should probably have kept them in his safe, but he liked to have his riches spread out across his house, as a constant reminder of the road he’d traveled, and the wealth he’d amassed.

Then he watched with interest how Eduard handed the pearl necklace to Glynis, and how her face lit up, tears springing to her eyes at the sight of the gem, and he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Those are very nice, Rosti,” remarked Jenn next to him.

“You’ll have all the pearls you want, honey,” he assured her. “Once we’re married I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“I have everything I want,” she exclaimed. Then slung her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss on his lips. Her eyes sparkled. “Now all I want is you.”

“Oh, honey,” he murmured, his son and his girlfriend all but forgotten.

A knock on the door startled him. “What
is
it with this place? Come in!”

The head of his secretary became visible, and if the man was surprised when seeing his employer merely clad in a sheet, a half-naked woman by his side, he didn’t show it. “Sir? Your guests are starting to wonder where you are. Oh, hello, Eduard. Didn’t see you there, sir.”

“Rupert,” acknowledged Eduard with a nod.

“Tell them I’ll be right out, will you!” Rostislav grumbled. Then he gestured to Jenn. “Meet my new wife, Rupert. Jenn, this is my infernal secretary.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Crocket,” Rupert said, not missing a beat, then added, “You will be pleased to note that Mrs. Mamykin the fifth has been caught in the act with the tennis pro as anticipated, sir. Divorce proceedings have been started up.”

“About time,” he returned, then added, “Now if you could please get the hell out! That means you, too, Eduard. Everybody out!”

Before long, he was alone again, his new love in his arms and his lips pressed to her ears, whispering endearments, and when she giggled and allowed herself to fall back on the bed, the sheet conveniently dropping away and her curves revealed before his exalted gaze, all thought of Eduard and the Fox pearls was forgotten.

“What do you say we make some more babies, baby?” she breathed.

The heat of the moment had him revert to his native tongue, and when he huskily muttered, “
Da!
” she enveloped him in her arms, his head buried in her ample bosom, and then Rostislav Mamykin, prime oligarch of London, was doing what he did best: producing the next son and heir to his vast fortune.

CHAPTER 27

They’d joined the merry throng of people again, Glynis’ head reeling. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, and even as she clutched the pearls in her hand, she was walking without seeing, not even noticing when she bumped into a waiter, then a small white-haired woman who eyed her strangely.

“Honey, I think we better get you home,” suggested Tom’s voice somewhere in her vicinity. Even though she heard him, the words didn’t really penetrate the hazy fog that seemed to have descended upon her.

“Mh?” she murmured.

Then she felt his hand taking her arm and steering her to a cooler place that held fewer people. As they walked past staring eyes, she felt a chill creep into her body. They were outside now, the night air fresh and bracing.

He draped a coat across her shoulders, and she gazed up at him, a dreamy look in her eyes. “Thank you, darling.” She surveyed him with misty eyes. “Who are you again?”

“Eduard Mamykin. Rostislav’s firstborn.” He grimaced. “Though I never advertise the fact. Too much of a hassle being the son of the wealthiest oligarch in London.”

“Oh.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “Are you real, Eduard? Or just a figment of my imagination?”

He took her hand and kissed her palm in a tender gesture. “I’m very real, Glynis. And please call me Tom. I never liked being called Eduard. Do you think we should fetch your father? Or can he find his own way home? The last time I saw him, he was talking to some fat banker.”

The fate of her father not really her concern, she eyed him closely. “You deceived me,” she concluded suddenly. “You never told me who you were.”

“You’re Scotland Yard, Glynis. I figured you would figure it out.”

“You figured I would figure…” She had a hard time processing this. “I never did, did I? I was so busy chasing The Shadow, that I never made the connection.”

“Dad knows some very good forgers. We constructed a new identity from scratch. He insisted that I not spoil his reputation. He’d always hoped I would follow in his footsteps, but the lure of a life of crime proved too strong.”

“A thief,” she murmured. “You are a wonderful thief, Tom. A wonderful thief indeed. Do you know that you managed to steal the most valuable thing?”

“Did I?” he returned softly, wrapping her hand in his in a loving gesture. “What is that, darling?”

“My heart,” she admitted as she leaned in, wanting to be in his arms all of a sudden. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

They were walking along a small path and entering the gardens of the Mamykin estate. “The rose garden is particularly impressive by night,” said Thomas, holding her close. “Would you care to see it?”

“You are a thief, Tom, and I’m a cop. We’re a match made in hell.”

“I’m thinking about retiring. Would that make a difference?”

They were surrounded by rose bushes, towering over their heads, the moonlight sprinkling its magical light down on them as they descended on a bench. A small fountain with a cherub holding aloft a shell gurgling water was their only companion.

“I’m sure I could be persuaded to grant you a reprieve,” she said, fingering the pearls in her pocket. “Now that you’ve properly atoned for your sins.”

“I could also be induced to return more stolen items to their rightful owners, if that would help,” he suggested, brushing his lips on her brow.

“I don’t think it would. Seeing as how they merely transferred from one member of the rich set to another…”

“No personal attachments there?”

“None,” she told him. Through the nebulous haze surrounding her mind, the thought of her mother stood out clear as daylight. “My mother will be pleased,” she said with a smile, then kissed him deeply, a kiss born both of gratitude and the love she felt for this most remarkable man.

“I hope she will be fine,” he said solicitously. She knew he meant it.

“You’ve come to care, haven’t you?”

“A great deal, both for you and your family.”

She smiled as her fingers fluffed his hair. “Mama will be so pleased to see you when she wakes up.”

“I hope she won’t be upset to find her only child associating with a thief.”

“She will be thrilled,” she assured him, then let her hands fall into her lap. In a shaky voice, she asked, “Where do we go from here, Tom?”

“I thought perhaps we could try the aisle?” he suggested, holding her close and pressing loving kisses along her brow.

“Aisle? What aisle?”

“The wedding aisle. It’s the one place I’ve never been. Have you?”

“Oh, Tom,” she said, her heart beating a fast pace, “are you serious?”

“Never more so. Unless Scotland Yard frowns upon our union?”

“I’m sure they’ll agree wholeheartedly. My own personal reformation project.”

He grinned, then captured her mouth again, and this time the kiss lingered, and she swayed with the passion and the heat enveloping her, the love for this man like a surging wave inside her bosom.

“I love you, Glynis,” he finally murmured against her lips. “I haven’t told you that, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,” she laughed, joy bubbling inside her like the fountain next to them.

“Well, I’m telling you now. I love you, Glynis Fox. Will you accept this thief’s heart as I lay it at your feet?”

“I will.”

“Consider it yours.”

Glynis marveled at the expression on her mother’s face as she presented her with both her precious pearls and her new son-in-law, and smiled contentedly. She didn’t know how things had worked out, but somehow, magically, they had.

And as the moon shone down, the thief and the cop reveled in each other’s warmth and basked in the love they’d inadvertently stumbled upon.

He’d stolen her heart, and she’d stolen his, and now they were even.