The Prince’s Gamble


THE PRINCE’S GAMBLE
Available November 13, 2012
Re-released June 2015

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Reviews
Video
Teaser
Excerpt

Reviews

Paranormal Romance Guild: 5 Stars – “This is a wonderful book, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. The characters are great, and the storyline interesting from beginning to end. Russian Mafia, white slavery, money laundering and romance, this book had it all.”

My Book Addiction: 4.5 Stars – “I love this author’s stories and this was no exception. I can hardly wait to see if Peter and Tatiana will have a story of their own, in this high stakes adventure. A must read for anyone who enjoys fast paced action, intrigue, suspense and of course romance.”

Fresh Fiction – “THE PRINCE’S GAMBLE is fast paced, full of action, romance and suspense as the Prince and the F.B.I. Agent take on the money launderers and white slavers. I liked how Alexander and Kathleen tried to dance around each other until they were exhausted and gave in. There were a number of secondary characters that added a lot to the storyline and even gave a hint to more possible stories to come along this line. I believe other readers will find this an “I can’t put this down” book as many of the author’s [Caridad Pineiro] books are for me.

Teaser


Prince Alexander Ivanov is scrambling to save his reputation and his livelihood. One of the Russian Nights Casino’s hostesses has disappeared, and his business is suddenly under investigation by the FBI for associations with the mob and money laundering.

Special Agent Kathleen Martinez has no patience with rich, entitled aristocrats, especially one like Alexander Ivanov whom she believes is involved in the vicious human trafficking ring which she’d tried — and failed — to shut down two years earlier. With a second chance to bring him to justice, she goes undercover in the casino, but instead of facing the villain she expected, she finds herself battling a sizzling attraction to the man.

Now, forced to work together to trace the source of the illegal activities, the danger — and the passion between them — grows out of control, and they slowly begin to realize the biggest danger isn’t to the casino; it’s to their lives…and to their hearts.

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Excerpt


Prologue
Lower East Side, New York

“Did you get the warrant?” Kathleen Martinez asked as her department’s attorney pushed through the sea of FBI agents and local police waiting to rush the warehouse located at the far end of the block.
“Right here, Special Agent Martinez.” The young attorney slapped the papers into Kathleen’s hand.

Unwilling to risk that the case could get tossed due to even one miniscule error in the warrant, Kathleen carefully scanned the papers.

“Would you believe Ivanov’s lawyers were still trying to stonewall us before the judge, claiming their clients were unavailable?” the attorney said.

Kathleen blew out an annoyed breath. “I believe it.”

It had taken them weeks to track down the trail of a white slavery ring. An assortment of wiretaps and round-the-clock surveillance had led the FBI to this warehouse location on the Lower East Side, but for the last three days the warehouse owner’s attorneys had been tossing one road block after another in their way to prevent their entry into the building.

But no longer, she thought as she finished reading the warrant. “Nice job, Agent Fleming. We’ve got everything we need here.”

She passed it to the police lieutenant who would make the official arrests.

Turning to the men and women waiting for her word, she directed them to various positions based on the blueprint of the warehouse they had gotten from Ivanov’s real estate agent.

“Two people on each door,” she said and gestured each duo as to where to go.

“You two go to the roofs across the street. Signal when you’re in position. I’ll give the call to go in. Remember these are members of the Russian mob, so expect them to be well-armed and extremely dangerous. They may be holding captive at least half-a-dozen women.”

At her go-ahead gesture, her team donned their eye and ear protection against the stun grenades they would be using as they entered. The agents fanned down the block and into place. She looked at her partner. “You ready to roll, Kearny?”

Her partner checked his gun and nodded. “Ready when you are, Martinez.”

She took a deep breath and shifted her bulletproof vest for both comfort and security. She reached down and pulled her Sig-Sauer from her side holster. Made sure the magazine was securely in place and that another few rounds were in easy reach on the weapons harness strapped around her waist.

Engaging her radio, she instructed, “Units, report.”

One by one they confirmed they were ready, and she gave the go order. Once they were in, they would rely on hand signals due to the noise of the flash-bangs.

In practiced synchronicity they surged forward, keeping out of the line of sight until they were close to the warehouse. At another command, they breached the various entrances and announced themselves.

“FBI. Drop your weapons,” Kathleen called out as she entered, gun drawn. When they pushed ahead, a barrage of bullets greeted them.

She ducked behind a tall pile of equipment in wooden crates to avoid the automatic weapons fire. The seemingly endless stream of bullets ate away her protection and sent splinters of wood flying all around. She crouched down low and returned fire, taking out one man as he popped out from behind a corner to shoot in her direction.

From the far side of the building, one of her team members tossed out a flash-bang grenade and she prepped for the disorienting noise and flash. The loud explosion and blinding light from the grenade was followed by excited shouts in Russian and yet more gunfire. The physical concussion of the sound registered more than the sound itself thanks to the ear protection she wore.

She gave the hand signal to move ahead and then charged forward, her partner Kearny providing cover for her until she found protection behind a large pile of pallets. She covered for him, and from the rear of the building came the pop-pop-pop of pistol fire and another powerful flash-bang explosion. A drift of smoke wafted into the air. One of the grenades must have ignited something in the warehouse.

A squat muscular man in a tank top that exposed his tattooed upper body burst from the haze created by the grenades. Riding low against his hip was an AK-47 that he fired ahead of him, indiscriminately sweeping the weapon back and forth to take down anything in his way.

Both she and Kearny fired, catching the shooter mid-body with several shots, and he crumpled to the ground. She rushed ahead to pull the weapon away from him.

“Secure him,” she instructed her partner and moved forward with two other agents who had cleared their way through the warehouse to join them. According to the blueprints, there were a series of rooms in the lower level of the building, but the stairs to reach them were in the center of the space.

The haze of smoke from the small fires the grenades had started obscured her vision. They were done with the flash-bangs and now there was chatter across her radio as her fellow agents advised they were securing the various areas of the warehouse. By the time she and Kearny reached the center stairs, all gunfire had ceased.

“Has the area been secured?” she asked her team members, and one by one they confirmed it.

She looked at the two agents with her and jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. “Follow me.”

Gun held at the ready, she verified that the stairwell was clear and rushed down with the two agents at her back.

The stairs took them to a large open space lit by bright vapor lights. That empty space was ringed by a series of small closed stalls. From inside the stalls came an assortment of whimpers and screams.

Female voices, she was certain. The women who they had feared had been taken for the white slavery ring.

A ring with keys hung by the first stall door. She holstered her weapon and glanced at her backup as she approached the stall.

“Cover me.”

She located the key for the first unit, slipped it in, and unlocked the door. She jerked it open and the stench of offal and body sweat was so strong that it nearly drove her back. She rushed into the stall where a woman cowered in the corner, dirtied and scared.

The woman held her hands in front of her face as if to ward off a blow, revealing the weeping sores on her skin from the shackles on her wrists. A long heavy chain connected the shackles to the wall of the warehouse.

Kathleen cursed beneath her breath and approached the woman. Kneeled down before her to offer comfort. “We’re the FBI. You’re safe now.”

The woman began to cry, huge, heaving sobs that wracked her body and tightened Kathleen’s gut with anger.

With each stall they opened, the scene was repeated. Until the last one.

The woman in the corner this time was silent. Immobile. Kathleen touched her arm, but the woman didn’t respond. As she slipped her hand down to feel for a pulse, the woman’s hand dropped away limply and Kathleen found herself staring into dull, lifeless eyes.

Her body was still warm. She had not passed all that long ago. Rage filled Kathleen’s gut. If they had just gotten here a little sooner, she might be alive. She rose slowly, hands fisted as her partner laid a hand on her shoulder.

“There was nothing you could do, Martinez.”

“We could have gotten here earlier, Kearny. We could have stopped this,” she said, gesturing to the woman’s still body.

“This blood isn’t on our conscience. It’s on the traffickers. And on Ivanov and his damn lawyer for delaying us,” Kearny replied.

She nodded and walked from the room to where her team was aiding the women they had managed to save. A host of EMTs had arrived to care for them as well as those who had been injured in the gun battle.

Luckily none of her people had suffered any serious injuries. As she and Kearny directed the agents and EMTs on what to do, one thought kept running through the back of her brain.

Ivanov and his cohorts would pay for the delay that had cost that woman her life and added days of misery to the other captives.

No matter what it took, she’d make sure those responsible would get the punishment they deserved.

These are the old covers!

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