Speaker 1: Calarogu Shark Media, Hello and welcome to Romance Weekly. This
episode is titled Frost and Fire, Episode four, Winter's Fire.
Speaker 2: Christmas morning dawns clear and cold in Aspen, sunlight turning
fresh snow to diamonds, fitting given what's at stake today.
I stand in front of my mirror, adjusting the red
silk dress that will either be my triumph or my
funeral attire. The Petrov Exhibition opens in six hours. The
Winters will be there, every last member of my former family,
expecting to destroy me. They don't know about the FBI
teams in position, about the evidence already transmitted from Geneva,
about Gabriel. You look dangerous, his voice from my doorway.
I meet his eyes in the mirror, remembering how those
same eyes had burned last night, when he'd mapped every
inch of my skin with his mouth, whispering plans and
promises in the dark. I am dangerous. I turn to
face him. His tux fits perfectly, concealing both weapon and badge.
Having second thoughts about trusting a thief, he crosses to me,
hands settling on my hips form a thief, still a liar,
still beautiful. His mouth finds that spot below my ear
that makes me shiver still mine. The word shoots heat
through me. Last night had changed everything. Every touch of confession,
every kiss a promise, every moment of pleasure a seal
on our dangerous alliance. Ready to end this, he murmurs
against my skin, ready to begin. His smile curves against
my throat. Merry Christmas, Lucia Frost let the games begin.
The Summit Ridge Ballroom glitters like an ice palace, crystal chandeliers,
silver decorations, and in the center, the Petrov collection, displayed
in bulletproof cases. Every surface reflects light, making it impossible
to hide, which is exactly what we're counting on.
Speaker 1: They're here.
Speaker 2: Gabriel's voice comes through my hidden earpiece as I circulate
among the guests north entrance, all of them. My heart stutters.
As they enter the entire Winter's family. Alexey in the lead,
devastatingly handsome in a black tux, His father Victor, silver,
heead and deadly. His sister Katya, who taught me everything
I know about seduction and deception, who taught me too well, Lutia.
Alexey reaches me first, taking my hand, his kiss on
my knuckles, burns like frostbite. You look breathtaking. That was
the idea last time, wasn't it. My smile is sharp,
Take my breath permanently. His laugh is genuine. That's what
makes him dangerous. Everything about him is real, even his
desire to kill me. Dance with me, he says, already
pulling me close for old time's sake. Across the room.
I feel Gabriel's tension, but this is part of the plan.
Get close, stay close, let them think they have me
exactly where they want me. Alexey's hand slides lower than
proper on my back as we move to the music.
I've missed you, moyas Nazhenka, my snowflake, his old name
for me, missed me I arch into his touch playing
my part, or missed what I took. His fingers dig
into my hip. Both his mouth brushes my ear. We
could still fix this, you know, come home, return what's ours?
Be mine again. For a moment, I remember why I
almost married him, the heat, the danger, the absolute certainty
of belonging somewhere. Then I remember Gabriel's taste on my
tongue this morning, his promises in the dark, his truth.
I was never yours, Alexey. I pull back just enough
to meet his eyes, and I'm done pretending his grip
tightens painfully. No pretending his smile is winter cold. Then
let's be honest. In exactly three minutes, my sister is
going to trigger the fire alarm. In the chaos, Father's
men will take you, and this time his lips brush
my ear, This time will make sure you never leave again.
Interesting plan. I press closer, letting him feel the small
device strapped to my thigh. Did Marcus tell you the
rest about the FBI? About Geneva? He stiffens. You're bluffing,
am I. My hand slides inside his jacket, a lover's caress.
That's really a search for weapons. Check your phone, Darling.
The file should be arriving right now. His phone vibrates.
I feel it against my hip as we turn to
the music. While you're reading, I breathe against his cheek.
Remember that night in Paris when you almost caught me?
What about it? I wasn't running from the FBI. My
lips graze his jaw. I was running to them, understanding.
Dawns in his eyes just as the fire alarm blaars,
but instead of chaos. The ballroom doors lock smoothly instead
of panic. The guests step back to reveal tactical teams,
and Gabriel, walking toward us, badge out, Hello, brother in law.
I smile, or should I say almost, brother in law.
Alexey's hand goes for his gun, but I'm faster. The
device on my thigh isn't a weapon. It's a taser.
He drops like a stone as Gabriel reaches us. You
enjoyed that too much, Gabriel says, but his eyes are
hot with approval. You have no idea. I step over
Alexei's body into Gabriel's arms. Though I did learn my
best moves from him, all of them. His hand slides
possessively down my back, want me to demonstrate the difference.
Hours later, after the arrests and the statements and the congratulations,
I stand in my workshop watching snowfall. The winters are
in custody. The Petrov exhibition continues undisturbed, and.
Speaker 1: I, having regrets.
Speaker 2: Gabriel's arms slide around me from behind, his touch sending
electricity through my silk dress. About betraying my family, No,
I lean back against his chest. About letting an FBI
agent into my bed. Maybe his laugh rumbles through me. Liar,
his teeth graze my neck. You've been letting me in
since Monaco. Monico was different. I turn in his arms.
Monaco was just pleasure?
Speaker 3: Was it?
Speaker 2: His hands find the zipper of my dress. Tell me
what it really was, Lucia, Tell me why you chose
me that night. The dress pools at my feet as
truth spills from my lips. Because you saw me, not
the thief, not the jeweler, not the perfect daughter. The
Winter's wanted, just me. I see you now. His mouth
traces fire down my throat. All of you prove it.
He lifts me onto my workbench, scattering diamonds like stars
with pleasure. What follows is pure heat, his hands mapping
territory that's now rightfully his, my body arching into every touch.
He takes me apart with the same precision I use
on precious stones, finding every floor, every perfect angle, every
place that makes me shatter.
Speaker 3: Mine.
Speaker 2: He growls against my skin. Not a question this time, yours.
I gasp as pleasure builds all aways yours later, much later,
we lie tangled in the cashmere throw I keep in
my office outside Christmas lights twinkle through falling snow. Inside
his fingers, trace patterns on my bare back. What happens now,
I ask, watching diamonds glitter in the dim light. Now
he pulls me closer. Now we do things legally. You
help the FBI track stolen artwork. I keep you out
of trouble boring. His laugh shakes us both trust me love.
Nothing about being with you could ever be boring. I
prot myself up to look at him and us. His
kiss is the answer, deep and sure and full of promise.
Us is just beginning, though I do have one condition,
which is He reaches into his discarded jacket pulls out
a small box inside a ring glitters not diamond but sapphire,
deep blue, like secrets, like trust, like truth. Marry me,
he says, for real this time. No masks, no games,
no running. I look at the man who hunted me,
court me, freed me at the ring that promises a
different kind of adventure. Yes, I whisper against his lips,
but I'm keeping their handcuffs. His growl of approval is
drowned by the sound of Christmas bells ringing in endings
and beginnings. Outside, snow continues to fall, covering everything in
pristine white, a clean slate, a fresh start, a new
game with rules. Will write together, and this time I'm
not playing to win. I'm playing for keeps.
Speaker 3: Romance Weekly is a production of Calaroga Shark Media Executive
producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. Portions this podcast may
have been created with the assistance of Ai
Speaker 2: Calaruga Shark Media