'Til the End of Time (7 page)

“Stop, dammit.” His voice was low and intense, close behind her. “Alessandra, this isn’t—” He broke off as she had a spurt of speed and pulled a few yards ahead of him. She might make it! The sudden effort to escape had been sheer impulse prompted by panic, but there was no reason why she shouldn’t succeed. She was strong, and heaven knew she had endurance. Karpathan wouldn’t call for help, because he would be afraid it would trigger his men to hurt her. If she could gain a few more yards …

She fell to the ground with a stunning force. He had tackled her, she realized dazedly. Karpathan
moved quickly astride her. His powerful hand on her nape pressed her face into the grass. She couldn’t breathe! She tried to lift her head, but his grasp wouldn’t permit it.

“Stop struggling.” His tone was as coolly ruthless as his hand on her neck. “You’ll either promise to quit fighting me or I’ll keep your face pressed into the dirt until you pass out.”

She was close to unconsciousness now. She was fighting wildly for breath, and the darkness was lifting and falling.

“Your word,” Karpathan demanded.

Damn him, how did he think she could speak if she couldn’t breathe? The thought must have occurred to him, for his grip shifted and she was allowed to turn her head so her cheek was pressed to the ground instead of her mouth and nose. “I promise,” she said, gasping.

She was flipped over, and found herself looking up at Karpathan’s tense face. He was pale. She was the one who had nearly suffocated. Why was he so pale? Her breasts were lifting and falling as she tried to force air back into her starved lungs. Her gaze blazed at him. “For now, Karpathan.”

“Oh, God!”
The words were wrenched from him. “Why are you making me do this to you?” He lifted the short rain poncho over her head and threw it aside. He placed his hands beneath her breasts, with his thumbs on her breastbone. Startled, her eyes widened in apprehension. Then the tenseness flowed out of her as she realized the action was completely impersonal. He was gently compressing and releasing her diaphragm to help her breathe. “
Tell
me. Let me help you. You know I can’t let you go.” There was a muscle jerking in
his left cheek, and her gaze fastened on it in bemused fascination. “Whatever you have to do in Belajo, I can arrange to have done for you. We can work it out. Trust me.”

His hands felt warm and gentle through the cotton of her shirt. His dark blue eyes were also gentle in his tormented face. Her anger was suddenly gone. He had done what he had to do. She probably would have done the same.

“Trust me,” he repeated coaxingly. “You won’t be sorry, Alessandra.”

Lord, she hoped not. Because she knew she
was
going to trust him. The decision brought such a lessening of tension it made her a little dizzy. She hesitated. “There’s a priest, Father John Dinot,” she said haltingly. “I was to see him today to make final—” She broke off to glare up at him fiercely. “If you betray me, I’ll come back and cut your heart out, Karpathan.”

“You haven’t given me anything to betray yet,” he said dryly. “What are you up to with the good father?”

“It’s for the children.” Her gaze moved to a point beyond his shoulder. “They’re the ones who are hurt the most by war. You and Naldona will tear the country apart for your damn principles. I’ve seen it happen before. And all that’s going to be left will be the hunger and the suffering. And the children. The children will survive. They always survive. But someone has to help them.”

“And is that what you’re doing, Alessandra?” His fingers reached out to tenderly brush a tendril of hair from her temple.

She nodded, still not looking at him. “James supplies the money. I find a distributor, such as
Father Dinot, who has no allegiance to either side, and we channel food and medical supplies through a neutral network. In that way we bypass the government bureaucracies which have a tendency to pocket a hefty percentage of relief funds.”

“I see.”

There was a raw savagery in the tone that brought her gaze flying back to his face. She inhaled sharply. Hurt. Besides anger, there was hurt in the eyes looking into her own.

“And I suppose you’re lumping me with the bureaucrats who would rob those children. My God, what kind of monster do you think I am?”

“I didn’t know you. You and Naldona deal in power. Power changes people.”

“Enough to turn me into a man who robs children?” His eyes were blazing fiercely. “I’m fighting this war as much for those children as for—” He stopped and drew a deep breath, struggling for control. She had struck him where he was most vulnerable. No one knew better than he how power corrupted. Naldona had become a ruthless dictator after his first sip of the heady vintage. Why should he blame Alessandra for thinking he might do the same if given the opportunity? “What do you want me to do? How can I help you?”

Now there was weariness as well as hurt in his eyes. For some reason she couldn’t bear to think she had caused Karpathan to look so utterly world-weary. “I do trust you, Karpathan,” she whispered. “I know you wouldn’t hurt my children.”

“Thank you.” The grimness disappeared from his expression as he smiled gently down at her. “I think you’ve given me one of your rare compliments. I don’t believe trust in your fellow man
comes easily for you, but I have an idea I still have a long way to go. It wouldn’t take more than a flicker of suspicion to have you threaten to cut my heart out again.” His hands were still pressing and releasing her diaphragm, though her breathing was now as steady as his own. She really should tell him to stop. But the movement was very … pleasant.

“Now, let’s set a plan in motion to accomplish our objectives.” His brow wrinkled in thought. “I can’t risk security by bringing Father Dinot into camp to talk to you. Besides, it would be dangerous for him. The best thing would be to send a courier with your instructions. He can also bring a message back.” His gaze searched her face. “If you think you can entrust a confidential message to one of my men.”

She nodded slowly. “I imagine you’re a good judge of character, Karpathan.” She grinned up at him. “And you’ve recently given me a demonstration of the treatment you mete out when someone displeases you. I doubt if your messenger would risk having your wrath turned in his direction.”

“This particular messenger doesn’t give a damn about my wrath, but I believe you’ll agree he’s reliable.” His expression became grave. “I’ll also have a message sent to Bruner to let him know you’re safe. The only promise I’ll ask you to make is to cooperate in letting me smuggle you over the border into Switzerland.”

“I’m not unreasonable. If you can arrange for me to complete my business with Father Dinot, I’ll be glad to leave Tamrovia. I can’t say I’ve had a very pleasant stay here.”

“I’m sorry. It’s really a wonderful country.” His expression was earnest. “I could show you places—”

“Karpathan, I’m afraid it’s too late for a travelogue. Now don’t you think you could let me get up?”

“Sandor,” he prompted softly. “I want to hear you say my name.”

“Sand—” She inhaled sharply as she looked up into his eyes. They were communicating something so heated and basic, she felt a tremor run through her.

“Again.” His fingers on her rib cage were no longer impersonal, but intimately sensual, as they moved beneath her breasts in a slow, easy rhythm. “I like it. Say it again.”

Her throat was so tight, she wasn’t sure she could form the word again. She was conscious of a slow, hot, melting sensation in her limbs and at the apex of her thighs. Melting, and yet tingling as if those sensitive places were being lazily stirred by the motion of his fingers. “Sandor,” she whispered.

“You have the most magnificent …” His hands pushed up gently, throwing her full, ripe breasts into bold prominence. His eyes were fastened with searing hunger on the mounds jutting against the cotton of her shirt. “I can still see you standing in your bedroom with your breasts spilling out of that little scrap of a bra.” His fingers pushed her still higher. A shudder went through him. “I thought you’d probably spill out of my palms like that too.” His fingertips were gently rubbing and smoothing the sides of her breasts. “I’d like to see them do that. I’d like to have you leaning over me, and be able to open my mouth and—” He broke
off and closed his eyes. “I lay there beside you last night and thought how soft you’d be if I unbuttoned your blouse and put my hand on you. I kept telling myself just touching you for a second wouldn’t hurt.” He opened his eyes, and they were soft and glazed with hunger. “But I knew I wouldn’t stop there. I’d have to use my mouth and my—”

“Stop.” Alessandra moistened her lips with her tongue. Her breasts felt taut and swollen, as if they would burst through the cloth confining them. She was burning up. Tingling. Even the soles of her feet were tingling. “I’m getting confused. I don’t want … It’s too fast.”

“I know.” The words were grated from between his teeth. “But it’s happening. You know it’s happening.”

She couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.”

“Good.” A little of the tension drained out of him. “At least you admit I’m not alone in this. It helps to know that. It may even keep me from jumping the gun until you become accustomed to the idea.” He added quietly, “I probably wouldn’t be this generous with my patience if I didn’t know there’s an excellent possibility we’re being watched by the perimeter guards. I want you very much.” His hands reluctantly left her. “I’ve never before wanted anyone or anything this much in my life.”

The expression on her face revealed how troubled she felt. “I can’t promise anything. I don’t know if—”

“Well,
I
know,” he said as he swung off her and-rose to his feet. “But I’ve asked you to promise enough for one day.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You’re an honest woman. When you’re ready to commit yourself, you’ll come to me
and tell me.” His expression was suddenly grave. “You
will
belong to me, Alessandra.”

She bent and picked up the poncho from the grass. “I don’t know whether I will or not. You’re a persuasive man, but I don’t like ties.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “And I think you could be very possessive.”

“You’re right.” His lips twisted in a lopsided smile. “Perhaps if I show you my other sterling qualities you’ll be willing to put up with one, minor fault.”

“Perhaps.” She was feeling warm and breathless again, and she determinedly pulled her gaze away. “Don’t you think we should be on our way to your base to send that message to Father Dinot?” She glanced down at the poncho across her arm and wrinkled her nose distastefully. “And if I smell as bad as this raincoat, there’s definitely another priority I’ll have to attend to after the message has gone out. I hope you have facilities for a bath, Sandor.”

“We’ll arrange something.” He took her arm. “Leave it to me.”

She was leaving a great deal to Sandor Karpathan, Alessandra thought as she fell into step with his long-legged stride. It was strange that she wasn’t feeling even a faint trace of misgiving. Strange and warm and … exciting.

“Ho, Sandor, I was about to come after you. I would think you’d know your way home by this time.” The huge, bearded man squatting by the fire rose to his feet with a litheness belying both his size and forty-odd years. His dark eyes wandered appraisingly over Alessandra. “But perhaps you were in no great hurry.”

“It’s difficult to remember the way home, when we change the location of the base every week or so. I don’t have your gypsy instincts, Paulo.” A little smile tugged at Sandor’s lips. “And a few things happened to delay me.”

The large man shrugged. “That instinct has to be bred in the bone. But you have other instincts just as amusing. That’s why I stay with you.” His white teeth suddenly flashed in his bearded face. “You offer the best hunting in Tamrovia.”

“Thank you.” Sandor inclined his head in a mocking bow. “We try to please. I have a task that
might amuse you right now. Or rather, our guest has a task. Alessandra Ballard, this is Paulo Debuk.”

“Now, here is a proper-sized woman.” Paulo Debuk’s massive paw engulfed her hand. “It’s about time you found yourself a woman who isn’t a bit of meringue. This one has the substance needed to be the Tanzar’s woman.” He pumped her hand vigorously. “I’m truly delighted you have come to your senses. She will give you fine, strong sons.”

“I will?” Alessandra asked faintly. She wondered if everyone who met Paulo Debuk felt as overwhelmed as she did. If he was one of Sandor’s officers, he was very strange one. Instead of the green camouflage fatigues worn by the other soldiers she’d seen as they approached the camp, he was garbed in rough denim trousers tucked into brown suede boots. A dark brown shirt with full flowing sleeves was stretched over his broad shoulders and deep chest. Debuk’s full dark beard was flecked with gray, but the dark eyes gazing into her own were as bright as the smile he was bestowing upon her. It was a moment before she could arouse herself from her bemusement. What had he said? Something about … She hurriedly pulled her hand away. “No. You misunderstood. I’m here to—”

“Miss Ballard and I have made an arrangement.” Sandor’s eyes were glinting with amusement. “But unfortunately my progeny aren’t part of it. Perhaps we can put in an addendum later to that effect. She has a message for you to deliver in Belajo.”

“Delighted,” Paulo drawled. “It was getting very
dull waiting around here anyway. I’ll be glad to have something to do.”

Sandor frowned. “No word from Zack?”

“A radio message last night,” Paulo said. “But you’re not going to like it. There’s been a delay in shipping the arms across the border. It will be another two days before they arrive here at the base.”

Sandor murmured a curse half beneath his breath. “I was afraid of that.”

“Zack is doing all he can. He knows you’re having to twiddle your thumbs until the shipment arrives.”

“I know. I know.” Sandor turned away with barely concealed impatience. “But there has to be some way he can hurry it up. I’m going to see if I can get through to him.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Alessandra. “Give your message to Paulo. He’s as close to a disinterested observer as you’ll find in Tamrovia.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but strode hurriedly to a large tent several yards across the glade.