The Golden Valkyrie (17 page)

“Very wise,” Bettina said, nodding. “You don’t want to pack a bag?”

Honey shook her head. “Alex can have Justine pack my things and send them on to me. I don’t want to go back to the house.”

“Then we’ll go,” Bettina said briskly, opening the helicopter door. Following Honey into the aircraft, she gave the pilot a curt command and settled back into her seat. “Fasten your seatbelt,” she ordered, adjusting her own.

Honey automatically obeyed, and they were soon spiraling into the heavens before leveling out and initiating a course eastward. She couldn’t resist a look back at the emerald dot in the sapphire sea. It was a mistake, for she soon found the brilliant colors running together as the tears welled up in her eyes.

Bettina was watching her sympathetically. “You’re doing the right thing, you know,” she said gently. “That should help a little.”

“Should it?” Honey said huskily. “Then there’s something wrong. I don’t think it does.” She turned for one last look at Londale’s Folly, but she was too late. It had already disappeared from view.

NINE

“F
RANKLY
, I
THINK
you’re out of your mind,” Nancy said bluntly, leaning back in her chair and regarding Honey, sitting in the visitor’s chair by the desk. “You admit you’re absolutely mad about the man, yet you’re fading out of the picture for an entire month?” Her lips curved cynically. “Contrary to what you may have heard, absence does not make the heart grow fonder. Particularly when a man has as many women throwing themselves at him as your Prince Charming.”

Honey flinched. That thought had been plaguing her ever since she had made the decision. It had been only a matter of hours, and she was already having doubts—not about the essential rightness of Bettina’s arguments. Lance must have this chance for a reconciliation with his parents. Families were important, and who should know better than she, who had never had one? She wouldn’t let Lance continue to be an emotional orphan, cut off from his parents and brother, not if there was any way that she could prevent it.

Yet she couldn’t deny that it was frightening to face the ramifications of her actions. While Nancy’s comment might have been tainted with the bitterness of her broken marriage, there was no question but that Honey was taking an enormous risk.

There had been no words of commitment spoken between them in all that golden halcyon period at the island. There had been words of passion. There had been laughter. There had been moments of tender exploration of the mind and emotions. That had seemed enough at the time. It was almost as if they’d both been afraid to disturb their magical Brigadoon with thoughts of the outside world. Once Lance was back in the reality of his own world, would that magic still hold?

“Then, I’d better find that out now, hadn’t I?” Honey asked lightly, smiling with no little effort. “I know that I’m not going to change, and I don’t think I’m equipped to handle a one-sided affair.”

“You’re not equipped to handle an affair, period. Why couldn’t you have started out in the minor leagues and worked your way up to the big boys?” Nancy threw up her hands expressively. “Oh, no, your first affair has to be with Lusty Lance. Then you have to go and fall in love with him! Why couldn’t you have chosen a nice, tame stockbroker or a used-car salesman?”

“I guess I just don’t have your good taste,” Honey said, her lips quirking despite the heaviness of her spirit. “I find I have a distinct partiality for princes.”

“Thank goodness there aren’t that many around,” Nancy said gloomily. “For God’s sake, stay away from Italy. I understand that they pop out from under every bush over there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Honey promised solemnly, her violet eyes twinkling. “What is the state of our finances?”

“Better than usual, thanks to Señora Gomez’s fee and the check we received last week from the State Department from Mr. Davies,” Nancy replied. “Why?”

“I’m going away for a week or two,” Honey said. “I just wanted to make sure that there was enough in the coffers to pay your salary and the bills until I get back.”

“Am I allowed to ask where you’re going?” Nancy asked caustically. “You’re getting to be an absentee employer. The mailman will wonder if I’m just making you up, like that private detective on television.”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Honey said quietly. “If you don’t know where I am, you can’t be coerced into telling anyone. The baroness has arranged for a place where I can stay for a bit, until Lance gets discouraged looking for me. I’ll call you every few days to check in and make sure everything is running smoothly.”

“Leaving me to fight off the ravening hordes.” Nancy sighed. “You’re probably right not to tell me where you’re going. I could withstand bulldozing tactics, but if your Lance decides to use that notorious charm on me, I’d be sunk. I’d probably melt like an iceberg in Death Valley.”

Honey couldn’t have agreed more. Hadn’t she found that charisma well-nigh irresistible from the moment they’d met? But she wouldn’t think of that; it only made what she was doing that much harder. “I’m sure you’ll survive,” she said. “I’ll call the day after tomorrow, when I’ve settled in.”

Three hours later she’d finished packing her suitcases and was checking the tiny kitchen in her efficiency apartment to make sure that the utilities were turned off. There was nothing in the refrigerator to spoil, and there was nothing left to do but write a note to the manager of the apartment explaining her absence. She had just completed that when the phone rang.

“He just called, Honey,” Nancy burst out as soon as she picked up the receiver. “I told him you’d already left town, but I don’t think he believed me. I think you’re probably going to have a visitor in the next hour or two.”

“Do you know where he was calling from?” Honey asked, biting her lip worriedly. She knew very well that if she had to face Lance, her resolution, which was shaky at best, would vanish in the first strong breeze. And that seductive charm of Lance’s could escalate to hurricane force when he chose. Which was the reason she’d opted not to face him in the first place.

“From the island,” Nancy replied, to her intense relief. “But you can bet he won’t be staying there.”

“I’ll be gone by the time he gets to Houston, then,” Honey said. “Thanks for the warning, Nancy.” She quietly replaced the receiver.

She hesitated a moment and then picked up the receiver and placed a call to the island, person-to-person to Alex Ben Raschid.

“Hello.” Alex’s voice was curt with impatience when he came on the line, and became even more so when she identified herself. “Damn it Honey, do you know what hell you’ve raised? Why the devil did you leave the Folly without speaking to Lance first? He’s been tearing around here like a madman ever since Bettina got back from practically kidnapping you.”

“Is he still there, Alex?” Honey asked, when she could get a word in edgewise.

“He took off in the helicopter as soon as he finished talking to your secretary. For God’s sake, how could you pull a stunt like this? When I got back to the island, I found Lance in a positive fury, the Teutonic Terror sobbing heartbrokenly, and you vanished from the face of the earth.” Alex’s voice was sharp with exasperation. “I’d just spent a whole bloody trying day convincing Davies that my grandfather wasn’t going to take the entire assassination team out and behead them, and I come back to this!”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Honey said contritely. “I never meant to be a problem to you.” Then she asked curiously, “Do they really behead people in Sedikhan?”

“Very rarely,” Alex answered absently. “Honey, whatever possessed you to let Bettina bulldoze you into leaving? I thought you had more backbone than to let her intimidate you.”

“It wasn’t like that, Alex,” Honey said. “It was my decision.”

“You’ll forgive me if I doubt that,” Alex said dryly. “I’m familiar with Bettina’s determination.”

“So am I, now,” Honey said ruefully. “But she wouldn’t have been able to convince me to do something I wasn’t willing to do. I’m not so easily swayed, Alex.”

“I didn’t think so until tonight,” Alex said slowly. “Why did you do it, Honey? Lance was almost a raving lunatic. I’ve never seen him act like that before.”

Honey ignored the question. “I want you to give him a message for me, Alex,” Honey said quietly. “Will you please tell him I’ll get in touch with him in six weeks’ time? That is, if he still wants me to.”

“If he still wan—” Alex echoed incredulously. “You’re going to stretch this madness out for another six weeks? Good God, he’ll tear Houston apart to find you.”

“It won’t do him any good. I’m leaving town tonight,” she said gently. “Please just give him the message. Thank you for everything, Alex. You’re a good friend.”

There was a short silence. “You’re making a mistake, Honey,” Alex said quietly. “Lance isn’t going to sit with folded hands, tamely waiting for you to get in touch with him.” When she didn’t answer, he continued with even greater deliberation. “And I hope I am your friend, Honey. I like you better than any woman I’ve ever known. But Lance is almost a brother to me. If it comes to a choice, then I’ll have to side with him.”

“I understand that,” Honey replied. “But it won’t come down to choices. I hope that I’ll see you in six weeks, too. Good-bye, Alex.”

“I rather think it will be a great deal sooner than that,” Alex said softly. “Good-bye, Honey.” The connection was broken with a decisive click.

Honey replaced the receiver, an uneasy frown wrinkling her brow. That last rejoinder had an oddly ominous overtone. Then she determinedly shrugged it off. It must be her imagination. Alex might be intimidating to his business rivals and political enemies, but he was her friend. It was foolish to be afraid.

Yet for some reason her final preparations for departure were even more hurried than was actually necessary. Fifteen minutes later she flicked out the lights, locked the door, and carried her suitcase down the wrought-iron stairs to her ancient blue Nova.

“I’ve saddled up Missy for you, Miss Winston,” Hank called with a friendly grin that caused the sun creases to deepen about his keen gray eyes. “I hope that’s all right.”

“Missy will be fine, Hank,” Honey answered with a smile. There hadn’t really been any choice, Honey thought wryly as the stable-hand gave her a leg up into the saddle. Missy was as gentle as a rocking horse and the only animal in the entire remuda of horses on the Circle D Dude Ranch that she could manage to stay on. Horseback riding had definitely not been considered a necessary asset at the orphanage, and Honey had discovered as a beginner that she had little or no aptitude for equestrian pursuits. In the week she’d been here, she’d only managed to learn the bare rudiments, and wasn’t at all sure that the aching muscles and decidedly tender derriere were worth the bother.

Yet she had to admit that these solitary morning rides did have their pleasant aspects. It was a relief not to have to maintain a sociable facade in front of the other guests, and she was so inept a rider that she had to concentrate to keep even Missy under control. It was virtually the only time she could shake the gloom and apathy that had beset her since she’d left the island.

Twenty minutes later she reined in at the little pine-shaded oblong lake, as was her custom, and slid gratefully from the saddle. She rubbed her jean-clad derriere ruefully, wondering if she’d ever learn not to bounce when that dratted horse decided to trot. After carefully putting the reins over the mare’s head, as she’d been taught, she strolled down to the water’s edge. This was her favorite spot on the entire ranch. Its quiet, serene beauty was a soothing balm to her troubled spirit, a balm that she dearly needed.

She leaned against the rough, gnarled bark of a pine and wearily closed her eyes, lifting her face in sensual contentment to the warm kiss of the sun. She supposed she should have been grateful to Bettina for arranging such luxurious accommodations at this isolated dude ranch, a short distance west of Houston. It was not the baroness’s fault that she was a city girl and found all these trail rides and bucolic shenanigans a little wearing on the nerves. She’d be glad when she could go back to Houston and get to work again.

That might not be as soon as she hoped. When she’d called Nancy yesterday, it was to be told that Lance had not abandoned his search for her and was driving Nancy crazy with phone calls and general harassment. Nancy had sounded frazzled and very cross. Evidently Lance was being quite unpleasant to the poor woman.

“Miss Winston?” the voice was deep, masculine, and very respectful.

Honey’s lids flew open, to see two young men, dressed impeccably in dark business suits and discreetly patterned ties.

She hadn’t heard them approach, yet they were standing only a few feet from her. They must have moved very quietly. “Yes, I’m Miss Winston,” she answered.

“We’ve been looking for you, Miss Winston,” the sandy-haired man said almost reproachfully. “We’d like you to come with us, please.”

“Looking for me?” Honey asked, puzzled. “Are you from the ranch?” She knew before he shook his head that they were not. Those suits were far too expensive and cosmopolitan.

“No, ma’am, we’re not,” the dark-skinned man said gently. “We have our car parked about a quarter of a mile down the road. I wonder if we could persuade you to go with us now? We really do have to be on our way.”

Honey shook her head as if to clear it. This was bizarre. “Why should I go anywhere with you? I don’t even know you, and I certainly don’t intend to get in any car with you.”

“I’m sorry. We didn’t introduce ourselves, did we?” the sandy-haired man asked with a frown. “I’m John Sax, and my friend, here, is Hassan Khalin. We’re both employees of Alex Ben Raschid. We’ve been sent to fetch you.”

“Fetch me?” Honey asked blankly. Employees of Alex Ben Raschid? Then she suddenly realized just exactly what manner of employees Alex had sent to find her. These soft-voiced young men must be members of that lethal security force Lance had mentioned. Now that she’d examined them more closely, she could detect that dangerous coiled tension beneath the smooth exterior that was the trademark of the professional. She stiffened and straightened slowly, her muscles tightening instinctively. “Then I’m afraid you’ve made a wasted journey,” she said quietly, “for I have no intention of coming with you.”