Barbara Dunlop - A Golden Betrayal

“We’re not in Rayas,” she told him.

“Pity,” he found himself responding. There was enough of the modern world in him that he’d never take an unwilling woman to bed. But there was enough tradition in him that he wished he could do it with Ann.

“Why?” she asked. “If we were in Rayas, would you throw me in a dungeon?” Her irises were opaque in the glow of Christmas lights filtering through the bay windows.

He decided to be honest. “If we were in Rayas, I’d tie you to my bed.”

Her eyes went wide at his blunt words, and her jaw dropped a notch.

“A hundred years ago,” he continued, letting his fantasies roam free, “I would have tied you to my bed the night you kissed me.”

“Lucky for me times have changed. And it was you who kissed me.”

“Maybe.” He let his gaze do a sweep of her sexy body. “But I could have kept you happy in my bed.”

“Does your ego know no bounds?”

“I’m told I’m an excellent lover.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and it had the unfortunate result of highlighting her cleavage. “By women you can have thrown in a dungeon?”

“Mostly,” he allowed with a shrug, struggling to tear his gaze from her breasts. It had never occurred to him to care that his lovers might be humoring him.

“You should try it someday with someone over whom you don’t have the power of life and death.”

“Thanks for the advice.” He wanted that someone to be Ann. Right here, right now.

“See if you still get a gold star then,” she continued to taunt him.

“Unless you’re volunteering for the job, I suggest we change the subject.”

“What?”

He raised his brows and pinned her with a smoldering, meaningful stare.

She swallowed. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

Her arms shifted so that she was hugging herself. “I didn’t mean...”

“My father is gravely ill.” Raif ruthlessly changed the subject. “The missing Gold Heart statue has caused him much distress.”

Ann’s voice became small. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

Raif’s chest went unexpectedly tight. He had to struggle to keep the emotion from his voice. It was odd. He talked about his father all the time without reaction. “The statue’s return would give the king peace of mind.”

Ann touched Raif’s arm. “I would if I could.”

His gaze went to her pale, delicate hand, then lifted to her face. Her expression was open, honest and compassionate. It was difficult to believe she was a thief.

“Then do it,” he rasped.

“I can’t.” Her eyes took on a sheen of tears.

His arm snaked around her waist, and he leaned down. “But, you can.”

“Raif...” Her soft voice trailed away.

Her lithe body was warm against his. Her curves molded to his angles. A throbbing pulse moved inexorably through his body, as her lavender perfume teased his senses.

He was going to kiss her.

He was going to kiss her again, and there was no force on earth that could stop him.

He anchored her head with his hand, reveling in the feel of her wispy blond hair. He leaned in, anticipating the sweet taste of her hot lips.

“California,” she gasped.

He halted. “What?”

“Roark said he was going to California.”

Raif forced himself to ease back. “You’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that.”

“Los Angeles.” She struggled against his hold. “He usually stays at the Santa Monica Reginald.”

“You’re lying.”

She shook her head.

“You’re giving me Roark.”

“Yes.”

“To avoid a kiss.”

“The last one got me into quite a lot of trouble.”

Raif let his hand slide from her soft hair. Their last kiss had put him in a whole lot of trouble of a different kind. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and his attraction to her was messing with his focus on the good of his country.

“Santa Monica?”

She nodded, eyes clear, gaze direct. “The Reginald.”

“And, he has the statue?”

“He’ll tell you all about it.”

Raif hesitated. “That was too easy.”

“It wasn’t remotely easy for me.”

Again, he gauged her expression.

“Let go of me, Raif. Assault is a crime in this country.”

“I’m not hurting you.”

“You need my permission to hold me like this.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe in Rayas. But here, what you’ve done is also kidnapping and forcible confinement.”

“I moved you maybe five feet.”

“You won’t let me leave.”

He knew she was blowing things way out of proportion. Still, she’d given him something. He ought to let her go now.

He eased his arm from around her back, and she immediately scooted away.

“You’re free to go,” he told her.

“How magnanimous of you.” Her voice was confident, but she wasted no time moving out of his reach and over to the exit. She opened the door and walked out without glancing back.

For a moment, Raif worried that he’d truly frightened her. But she had to know she was physically safe. He might have kissed her, but that was all. He certainly would never have harmed her.

Then he gave himself a mental shake. She was a thief who was hurting his family. If he’d made her a little nervous, she’d brought it on herself. Her admission proved he’d been right about her all along.

He was heading for California now, and he was about to make Roark Black more than a little nervous.

* * *

“Does nothing scare you?” asked Darby as she swiped her sweaty, dark hair back off her forehead.

Side by side, the two women pedaled exercise bikes in a row of about thirty identical machines on the top floor of the Blackburn Gym. Ann was at mile eighteen, but she suspected Darby was in the lead. A muted news show played on screens in front of them, the closed-captioned words scrolling beneath. The reporter and a distinguished-looking gray-haired man were talking about shipping routes and cargo costs out of the Mediterranean.

“It’s not like he’ll know it was me,” Ann responded reasonably, drawing deep breaths as she pedaled. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

“That’s short-term thinking,” said Darby.

“I prepaid three nights at the Reginald hotel in Santa Monica in Roark’s name,” said Ann. “Raif and his henchmen will sleuth out the fact that he’s registered there pretty quickly. Then they’ll stake the building out, waiting for him to show up.”

“And when the three nights are over?”

Ann shrugged. “Raif will assume Roark either caught on to the stakeout or had a change of plans. If I’m lucky, he’ll hang around California awhile longer and keep looking for him.”

“You sent the crown prince of Rayas on a wild goose chase.”

“Well, I sure couldn’t let him stay here and follow me around the city.” Never mind the constant threat of the tabloid photographers catching them in the same frame somewhere, and her need to focus on the year-end auction happening tonight. Ann had been seconds away from kissing Raif at the fund-raiser. She couldn’t go there, not ever again.

“Any luck in really finding Roark?”

Ann shook her head, pulling her damp T-shirt from her torso to circulate a bit of air. “I’ve left him a dozen messages. Either he’s seriously out of touch, or he’s afraid to respond to me.”

“The FBI still after him?”

“They’re still interested in him. So is Interpol, obviously. But without evidence of theft—” she gave Darby a hard look “—which they’ll never find.”

“Because he hid it so well, or because it doesn’t exist?”

“It doesn’t exist.”

“You’re positive.”

“I’ve known Roark long enough to be positive. He may not be in touch at the moment, but he’s out there trying to clear Waverly’s name. I’d stake my life on it.”