The Golden Valkyrie (15 page)

“You suspec—” Honey’s lips fell open in surprise. “But why didn’t you say anything? Why did you invite her to the Folly?”

“I told you I’d been taught never to trust anyone,” he said, his moody glance shifting to Honey’s shocked face. “She was a little too eager. When I discovered that she wasn’t a real redhead, it was only logical to assume that she was the Judas goat staked out by the hunters.” He shrugged, his brawny bronzed shoulders gleaming copper. Abruptly it sank home to Honey that he was totally nude. Thank heavens for those mounds of bubble bath! “I decided I’d rather shift the battleground to my own territory and see if I could lure them into my net.”

“Then why did you tell me to leave her alone when I jumped into the tub?” Honey asked, perplexed.

His face darkened in a fierce scowl. “Because it’s been two weeks, damn it,” he growled. “Why the hell couldn’t you have knocked her out
afterward
?”

Honey gazed at him blankly. “Afterward?” Suddenly she started to chuckle, and she sat down on the side of the tub and crossed her legs tailor fashion. Her face was alight with laughter, and her violet eyes danced with impish delight. “Oh, Lord, Alex, I’m sorry. I was afraid she was trying to drown you.”

He gave her an indignant glance. “I assure you that no woman living would have tried to murder me at that particular moment.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she agreed solemnly, her lips quirking. “But surely she’s no
great
loss. She wasn’t a real redhead anyway.”

“She was entirely adequate for the situation,” Alex said dryly. “You owe me one, Honey.”

“I owe you,” she agreed lightly. “There must be a redhead somewhere in the world whom you can trust.”

His lips twisted cynically. “I strongly doubt it. But you’re the private investigator—you find her for me.”

“I just might do that,” Honey said thoughtfully.

“I imagine there’s some perfectly logical explanation for this scenario,” Lance said politely from the doorway. “Would either of you care to enlighten me?” He strolled lazily forward, interestedly eyeing the unconscious woman. “I suppose this is your lethal Delilah, Alex. Very pretty.”

“You knew about her too?” Honey asked indignantly. “Why didn’t someone tell me? How do you expect me to perform with any sort of efficiency if you both keep me in the dark?”

“You weren’t
my
bodyguard, Honey,” Alex said, leaning lazily back in the tub. “And Lance was more than satisfied with your performance, I’m sure.”

“More than satisfied,” Lance agreed solemnly, blue eyes twinkling.

“I guess you know about the launch as well,” Honey said, crossly scowling at them both.

“Which one?” Alex asked, one brow arched inquiringly. “Mine or theirs?”

“Which one?” Honey sputtered. “The one in the cove. You mean there are two?”

Lance was squatting down beside Leona Martell now, and he opened her lid to examine judiciously one glassy eye. “Probably not anymore,” he said absently. “Alex’s men have more than likely dispatched the black hats with their usual efficiency.” He looked over at Alex with a frown. “She’s really dead to the world, Alex. Did you have to hit her so hard?”

“Don’t blame me,” Alex disclaimed with a wry grin. “It was your beautiful Amazon, sitting there.” He gave Honey an admiring glance. “Dear heaven, but she’s got a fantastic right cross.”

“Thank you,” Honey said automatically, not really hearing them. “Alex’s men?”

“Well, Karim’s men, actually,” Lance said, rising to his feet and strolling around to where Honey was sitting. “Sedikhan Petroleum has its own security force, and he’s made sure that they’re efficient and deadly. Do you think the old tiger would allow his precious grandson to wander over the face of the earth without making certain that he was well protected?”

“So that was why you refused a bodyguard,” Honey said thoughtfully. Then her chin lifted indignantly. “You needed me like you needed a hole in the head!”

Lance kneeled down beside her. “I needed you,” he said gently. “I needed you very much.” He picked up her right hand and examined it with a frown. “You’ve bruised your knuckles.” He brushed his lips tenderly over the darkening flesh. “You should have been more careful. You didn’t have to hit her that hard.”

Honey gazed at him with blank disbelief, torn between indignation, a desire to laugh, and that melting tenderness that was so much a part of her love for Lance now. “I’ll remember that next time,” she said dryly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

“I would have liked to see you in action,” he said, turning her hand over to kiss the palm lingeringly. “It must have been beautiful. I was right to paint you as a Valkyrie.”

“I hate to disturb you, but this bath water is getting cold,” Alex said patiently. “I’ll give you one minute to get Honey out of here before I get out of this tub.” He leered with mock lasciviousness. “Then she’ll know what she’s missing by settling for a red-haired Scaramouche like you.”

Lance stood up and pulled Honey to her feet. “She’d better change out of those wet shorts anyway,” he said solicitously. He cast a glance at the still-inert nude redhead. “What are you going to do with her?”

“Nothing, unfortunately,” Alex said sadly, then gave Honey a glowering look as she giggled. “I suppose I’ll radio the launch and have a dinghy sent ashore to pick her up. They’ll all be flown back to Sedikhan to be tried.”

They turned to leave, and there was an odd flicker of wistfulness in Alex’s dark eyes as he watched Lance’s arm slide around Honey’s waist with loving familiarity.

“Honey!”

She looked over her shoulder at him inquiringly.

“Remember your promise.”

She smiled at him serenely. “I’ll remember,” she said gently.

“What did you promise him?” Lance asked curiously as he shut the door of their room behind them.

“That’s our secret,” she tossed teasingly over her shoulder. She was riffling through the drawer of the Korean chest, and drew out a pair of white shorts. “You and Alex have kept enough from me.” She frowned with annoyance. “I don’t appreciate being treated like an outsider. I’m a qualified professional, damn it. Did it ever occur to you that I might be able to help? I’m not some weak, defenseless, clinging vine, you know.”

“Oh, we know, all right,” he drawled, his blue eyes twinkling. “Alex is lost in admiration for your dazzling right cross. If I’m not careful, he’ll probably try to recruit you for his security force.”

“What will happen to that woman and her cohorts?” Honey asked, her face troubled. “I would have thought that they’d be turned over to the State Department rather than the sheik.”

“It’s better not to ask and better still not to probe,” Lance said grimly “Justice can be swift and very ruthless in an absolute monarchy like Sedikhan. Alex is the only human being on the face of the earth whom Karim really cares about. It’s not likely that anyone who threatened him would receive any mercy.”

“Except you,” Honey corrected softly. “He must care a good deal about you, to have been so generous.”

Lance shrugged. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell with a fierce old buzzard like Karim.”

“Yet you’re very fond of him,” Honey said gently. “It’s all there in the portrait you did of him.”

“Just because you feel affection for someone is no sign it will be returned, Honey sweet,” he said cynically. “I learned that a long time ago.” For a moment there was a flicker of melancholy in the sapphire eyes, and then it was gone and he was padding catlike across the room toward her. “Would you like me to help you change?” he asked silkily.

She shook her head firmly. “You know very well where that would lead,” she said, trying to frown severely. “And you have my painting to finish. Besides, I have to place a call to Mr. Davies and tell him the latest developments. This will put an end to my assignment for the State Department. You won’t need me as your bodyguard now that the danger is past.”

“Yes, I will,” Lance argued softly as he kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I need you to guard my body from all kinds of dangers.” He moved closer, so that her breasts were brushing tantalizingly against his chest. “The danger of cold.” He kissed the corner of her lips. “The danger of loneliness.” His lips moved to her ear, and he blew in it softly. “The danger of frustration.” His arms went around her, burying his face in her hair. “The portrait will wait, Honey,” he said huskily. “Show me how well you can guard me from all those things.” His hands were at the fastening of the wet khaki shorts, and somehow she found that she had dropped the white shorts in her hand to the floor.

“I really should call Mr. Davies,” she said a trifle breathlessly, for his hands were quickly unbuttoning her white blouse. “This isn’t at all professional, Lance.”

He unfastened her bra and pushed both the bra and blouse down her arms, until they too fell to the carpet. “Davies will wait, too,” he said. “I’ve never made love to an Amazon,” he added thickly. “Is it different from taking my Honey hot to bed?”

She had an idea that he was going to find out very soon. She could never hold out for long when Lance was really bent on seduction…not that much seduction was required. As usual, she was feeling as yielding as melting butter as his hands came up to cup her breasts in his warm, hard palms. With thumb and forefinger he plucked at the rosy eager tips until they were hard and thrusting and her breath was coming in little gasps. She closed her eyes, and her hands reached out to clutch him desperately by the shoulders to keep from being swept away into this hot vortex of sensation. “Lance, there are things that we have to discuss,” she gasped. He bent his head and brushed his tongue over the nipple he’d aroused to such ardent readiness. “The situation has changed, and I have no valid reason for being here now.”

“Nothing could be more valid than this,” he said thickly. “Don’t talk anymore, sweetheart. I want to love you. Can’t you feel how I need you?”

She could indeed, and it filled her with excitement that was slowly turning her own hunger from a flickering flame to a white-hot fire. He was right. Now was not the time for speech, but for that magical ritual that seemed to grow in intensity and beauty every time it was performed.

Her eyes still closed, her hands went up to bury themselves in the thickness of his hair and bring him to her breasts once again. “Then, love me, Lance,” she urged huskily, “love me.”

EIGHT

“L
ANCE, WE’VE GOT
to talk,” Honey said, exasperation sharpening her voice. “You’ve been putting me off since yesterday morning. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Lance finished buttoning his black shirt and looked up with an absent smile. “We’ll talk tonight when I come to bed,” he said evasively, tucking the shirt into his jeans. “I’ve got to work now.” His eyes twinkled impishly. “I missed an entire day’s work, thanks to your insatiable appetite for my virile body, and I’ve got to make up for it.” His gaze moved over her lingeringly. “But you’d better pull that sheet up unless you want me to crawl back into bed and start all over again.”

Honey automatically pulled up the sheet and tucked it under her arms, frowning crossly at him. He was being as evasive as a will-o’-the-wisp this morning, and he’d been no better yesterday. Every attempt at speaking seriously to him had been met by diversionary tactics worthy of a five-star general—provided that general had earned those stars in a bordello, she thought ruefully. She’d believed they’d explored every facet of physical love in the past weeks, but Lance had demonstrated last night that they’d just skimmed the surface. And she was wondering just how much of that had been genuine passion.

“Now,”
she said quietly, a thread of steel in her voice. “Not later. Now, Lance.”

He opened his lips to protest, then evidently changed his mind. He smiled at her beguilingly, strolled over to the bed, and sat down beside her. “All right, now,” he agreed amiably, taking her hand in both of his. “I’m entirely at your disposal, sweet.” He scooted a little closer and bent his head to nibble gently at the soft hollow beneath her collarbone.

Her other hand went automatically up around his neck to curl in the dark flaming hair at the nape of his neck. He was so beautiful, she thought dreamily, the somber black of his shirt only made him look more vibrantly alive than ever. The richness of that molten auburn cap, the sapphire of his eyes, the copper brown of his skin all took on a subtle drama in contrast. His hand reached out and gently tugged the sheet down to her waist, and his lips trailed soft, hot kisses down to the rise of her breasts.

“Lance,” she said huskily, her hands tightening around his neck. Then, as he was bearing her back on the bed, she suddenly came to her senses. He was doing it again!

“No, damn it!” she cried, and pushed him away so forcefully that he almost fell off the bed. “No! No! No!” She wound the sheet around her firmly and slid over to the other side of the bed, where she knelt to glare at him belligerently. “We’re going to talk!”

His expression was distinctly sulky as he said crossly, “I think you’ve made yourself clear. I don’t know why it won’t wait.” He scowled. “Say what you have to say and get it over with.”

She drew a quick, deep breath. “All right, I will,” she said. “I can’t stay here any longer. I have to get back to my office. My purpose for being here vanished yesterday, when the threat to your life was lifted.”

“That’s ridiculous!” he spat explosively. “There’s no reason for you to leave. You like it here. We’re fantastic together, in bed and out. Why in the hell would you want to go back to Houston? If that Martell woman hadn’t been captured, you’d have been content to stay indefinitely.”

“But we did catch her, and that’s the entire point,” Honey argued in exasperation. “I can’t just drift along in some fantasy island paradise. I’m not made that way. I have a career and responsibilities.”

“You promised to stay with me until after my show,” he said stubbornly, his sapphire eyes blazing. “Your precious career can wait until then, can’t it? Or isn’t it worth it to you anymore?”

“Of course, it’s worth it.” She sighed wearily. “I fully intend to meet you in New York for the exhibit next month. I’m not trying to break off our affair, Lance. I’ll be glad to fly to the island for weekends if you want me to, and perhaps you can come to see me if you’re not too busy preparing for your exhibit. It’s just that I think it’s time to approach our relationship more realistically.”

“Sounds charming,” Lance said caustically. “Very cool and pragmatic and completely analytic. Exactly what I’d expect from a private investigator. Perhaps you could make up a schedule.”

Cool and pragmatic? Every word she was uttering was creating a fresh wound, yet she knew that if she was to keep any part of Lance’s respect, she first must respect herself. She’d known since the beginning of their affair that this moment would come.

“If it comes down to it, I just might do that,” Honey said coolly. “And I see no harm in being pragmatic. You know as well as I that we can’t go on like this forever. We’ve both got to return to our own lives sometime and go our separate ways.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Lance said haltingly, not looking at her.

“Yes, it does,” Honey said softly, her face pale and strained. “I can’t give up my work and independence any more than you can. I won’t live the life of a mindless parasite even for you, Lance.”

His lips twisted bitterly. “You’re nothing if not eloquent. You make life with me sound as rewarding as going to the dentist for a root canal.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Honey said impatiently. “You know I find you a very exciting lover. I think that I’ve made that more than clear. I still want to continue our affair. It just has to be on my terms.”

“The hell it does!” Lance said roughly, his face stormy. He jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing down at her. “That cool, anemic little liaison you’re describing may be enough for you, but I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with it. I want more, damn it. And by God, I’ll have it!” He turned and strode angrily toward the door.

“Does that mean you want to put an end to our relationship entirely?” she called after him, trying, with that same coolness he’d condemned so passionately, to mask the sick dread she felt.

He turned at the door, his sapphire eyes gleaming like a finely honed blade in his white face. For a moment, the artist and lover she’d grown to know so well was gone and there was once again the shimmer of steel that lay just beneath the surface. “Hell, no,” he said softly. “It means that I mean to have it all. I’m not letting you leave me, Honey. It will be a good deal easier on you if you make up your mind to that.”

The door closed with a decisive click behind him.

Darn the man, why couldn’t he see reason? Didn’t he know how it was hurting her to maintain this cool composure when all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and do anything he wanted for the rest of her life? Didn’t he realize what assuming the role of his mistress in public would do to her? She would grow to hate herself and, worse still, she would grow to hate Lance for what he’d made of her.

There must be some way of convincing him of the validity of her arguments, she thought gloomily, though at the moment she couldn’t see it. But there was no question that she must continue to try. She didn’t know if she could exist without having at least a small role in Lance’s life, and the other option he’d given her was equally unpalatable. There must be a happy medium. She would just have to try again later, after he’d cooled down.

Perhaps she could discuss the problem with Alex and get him to intercede with Lance on her behalf. In the past weeks she’d developed an almost sisterly affection for Ben Raschid, and she knew that he liked her equally. Yes, she would see if Alex could get her viewpoint across to Lance.

With this aim in mind, she threw back the covers and strode swiftly to the bathroom. After brushing her teeth, a quick shower, and a vigorous brushing of her hair until it shone, she emerged twenty minutes later. A swift glance at the clock verified that if she hurried she could still catch Alex at the breakfast table on the terrace. She knew he liked to linger over coffee while he read his correspondence, before officially starting his day. She quickly donned a pair of white jeans, a loose boat-necked scarlet tunic top, and sandals, and ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

She might just as well have made a more leisurely toilette, for when she hurried out on the terrace, there was no sign of Alex. The table was set with the usual fastidious elegance, but only for two, and Justine was just setting the customary carafe of hot coffee on the table.

“Mr. Ben Raschid has already finished?” Honey asked disappointedly. She wouldn’t dare beard Alex in the library once he’d actually started to work.

Justine shook her head. “He’s flown to Houston for the day,” she said cheerfully. “He left quite early, and asked me to give you a message.” She straightened a bamboo placemat and continued. “He said he’d been on the phone to a Mr. Davies last night and that Mr. Davies was a little put out about the packages being forwarded to Sedikhan instead of to him. He decided to fly over to try to pacify him.”

The “packages” being Leona Martell and her criminal accomplices, Honey thought in amusement. She could see how Davies would be a trifle upset at having his authority usurped, but she had no doubt Alex would be able to smooth his ruffled feathers. It didn’t make her any happier, however, to have to delay her talk with Alex.

“Will he be coming back this evening?” she asked as she slipped into her accustomed place at the table.

Justine nodded and picked up the carafe to pour Honey’s coffee. “Either tonight or early tomorrow morning. He said he was sure you and Prince Rubinoff could find something to do to amuse yourselves.” The last sentence was stated impassively, but Honey could almost see the mocking gleam in Alex’s dark eyes as he was giving the housekeeper the message. “Will Prince Rubinoff be joining you for breakfast?”

“No, I’m sure he’s gone to the studio to work, Justine,” Honey said quietly. “You might take him some coffee right now and sandwiches later for lunch. He’ll probably be working all day.”

Justine nodded again and quietly disappeared into the house, leaving Honey sitting morosely, gazing blindly out at the stunningly lovely seascape view from the terrace.

She finished her coffee and tried to eat a little but finally ended by pushing her plate away distastefully. Perhaps she’d go down to the beach and try to while away a few hours. It would be useless to try to read in such a tense state.

It was while she was striding down the path to the beach that she first heard the now-familiar throbbing sound of helicopter rotors, and she stopped in surprise. Her first thought was that it might be Alex returning, but she dismissed that idea as soon as it occurred to her. Alex couldn’t have possibly completed his task and come back already.

She shaded her eyes and soon determined that it wasn’t the orange helicopter that she’d become accustomed to seeing on the landing pad at the foot of the hill, but a brilliant blue-and-white one. Yet there was no question that its destination was the Folly. Her eyes narrowed curiously on the aircraft as it descended toward the landing pad like an ungainly butterfly. Then she accelerated her steps and strode hurriedly down the hill toward the pad.

When she arrived, it was to see a khaki-clad, gray-haired man, with “Sunbelt Helicopter Service” imprinted on the back of his shirt, assisting a dark-haired woman in a lovely melon pants suit out of the helicopter.

The woman looked up as Honey appeared beside them, and gave her an incisive glance. “Ach, no wonder,” she boomed cheerfully. “You’re even more attractive than your picture, Honey Winston.” She smiled with sunny friendliness. “Permit me to introduce myself. I’m the Baroness Bettina von Feltenstein. Now, tell me, where are Alex and Lance hiding? They can’t have been so cowardly as to send you out to face me alone.”

Bettina von Feltenstein? This was the Teutonic Terror of Alex’s description? This woman was so far removed from Honey’s mental image that she could feel her lips drop open in surprise. Where was the sleek, beautiful vamp of her imaginings? There was nothing in the least sleek about the woman facing her. If her carriage had not been so graceful, her small, plump figure might even have been considered dumpy. And she certainly could not be termed beautiful, though her glowing complexion was really magnificent, and the large, luminous brown eyes behind the stylish tortoiseshell glasses were snapping with vitality.

“I’m not what you expected either,” the baroness guessed shrewdly, her eyes narrowing on Honey’s surprised face. “I wonder just what they told you about me.” She shrugged and grinned with gamine charm, her brown eyes twinkling. “Nothing very complimentary, I’m sure.”

“Nothing very much, Baroness,” Honey recovered enough to say. “They only mentioned you in passing.”

“Really? I’m disappointed that my phone calls had so little impact.” She made a wry face. “But then, that’s why I’m here. I hate telephones. It’s so easy for people to be conveniently disconnected.”

Honey smothered a smile and tried to reply with appropriate solemnity. “It certainly is. I’m sorry that you didn’t let Alex know you were coming, however. He left for Houston this morning and may not be back until tomorrow.”

“I doubt if he’d have changed his plans,” the baroness said dryly. “In fact, he might have accelerated them. Alex and I aren’t exactly soulmates. Lance is still here, of course.” It was a statement, not a question.