To Love a Thief (Steel Hawk) (19 page)

Nathan snorted, sniffing at the air theatrically, and a deep blush heated Rose’s cheeks. Then he turned his attention the princess. “I think it is time to retrieve your diamond.”

The guards were summarily called, and Nathan and her father, along with their escort, walked to the main foyer. Rose and the princess followed.

“Go upstairs, daughter. Relax. Enjoy your bath and…” Her father’s voice faltered, eyes misted with exhaustion. He leaned into her, whispering, “Know that I love you, always.” With that, he spun away, striding on legs bowed with age, the guard cortege following him.

Nathan hesitated, and Rose was captured by his intense stare.

“What? Have you decided you need a bath too? For I do declare you are rather odiferous.”

“Only if you’re offering to scrub my back, squirt.”

Rose sniffed. “In your dreams.”

“Ah yes, my dreams. Such fantasies.” With a chuckle, Nathan left with her father.

The princess came alongside her. “Do not fear. They are well protected.”

“I know.”

“He loves you, you know.”

“Of course. He’s my father, and I love him.”

“No. I speak of Nathan. It’s in his eyes.”

“Rubbish. The man is self-absorbed.”

“He only thinks of your safety. Why do you think he agreed with your father?”

“Because he wants the limelight. Save the diamond and all that.”

“You’re wrong, child. Your father and Nathan both want to protect you.”

“I’m no wilting flower.”

“No, you’re not. But men see it differently. Perhaps we bring out their protective instincts.”

The image of Nathan in a bearskin came immediately to mind, and Rose chuckled “That may be, as long as Nathan doesn’t try carting me off by my hair!”

Chapter Seventeen

After a bath and donning a clean dress brought by the princess’s maid, Rose almost felt renewed.

Everything would be perfect once the diamond was returned.

She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece over the fireplace in her bedchamber.

Already an hour had passed since her father and Nathan had left for the cemetery.

What if something had gone wrong? What if Prince Randolph had tracked them down?

Fear pirouetted in her gut, churning with increasing intensity as the minutes passed.

Suddenly, a horse whinnied and carriage wheels echoed from the cobbles outside. Rose raced to the window and peered down into the internal courtyard.

They were back.

Her feet flew as she descended the stairs, but she stalled at the landing as the door opened and her father and Nathan stepped inside.

Her heart skipped several beats.

Nathan! Her Nathan.

His dark eyes that almost smoldered sought hers and held them as something unspoken passed between them. Her grip on the handrail tightened. She wanted to release it, rush to him. Kiss him.

Dear Lord, she was lost.

“You’ve scrubbed up, I see.” His gaze twinkled, and the humor-filled statement forced her to release her hold on the handrail. But she didn’t take a step toward him.

She shifted her gaze to her father. “You’ve got it?”

He held up a canvas pouch. “Indeed. Safe and sound, just as we both are.”

The princess rushed out from the room to the left. “Oh, Alex.” She reached for her father, grasped his shoulders and hugged him, kissing his cheek. His face turned pink, and Rose would bet that it had nothing to do with the chill of the night air they had just taken leave of.

“Come in, come and get warm.” The princess directed them into the lounge, but Rose hesitated, somehow feeling left out of the moment.

Nathan stalled at the doorway and turned to her. “Not coming to see what’s caused all this trouble?” He held a hand out to her, and Rose swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat. She stared at his hand, his long fingers, remembering the feel of them as they had grazed over her skin.

Remembering it and wanting it again.

She took the remaining steps down, but instead of taking his hand, she walked right past him.

The princess sat beside her father, excitement and relief blatantly sparkling in her eyes. “I cannot thank you enough for this moment, Alex, all of you. This means everything to Zarrenburg, and my family.” She looked directly at Rose’s father. “And
my
son.”

The only other seating in the room was the sofa, upholstered in a soft pink. Rose looked at the seat and then at Nathan, who now sat there.

He patted the spare seat. “Aren’t you brave enough to sit by me?”

Words failed her, and the room went silent. With a toss of her head, she took the seat beside him, ensuring she kept as far away as possible. Under no circumstances did she want to touch him. Touching was out of bounds. Dangerous to her sanity.

Nathan leaned over to her. “See, you are a brave warrior.”

Rose steeled herself from reaching out and slapping him, then kissing him better. “So does that make you my enemy?”

The princess’s tinkling laughter infiltrated the moment. “Now, now, you two. Children are always the same, are they not, Alex? Mr. Hawk, I suggest you sort out your lover’s quarrel with this beautiful young woman.”

Though Nathan went to answer, a wag of her father’s finger at him silenced his retort.

The princess held the pouch aloft. “Welcome home to your rightful place, my Pasha Star.” She tugged at the drawstring closer and tipped the pouch up. The diamond tumbled into her open palm.

Rose’s jaw dropped at the beauty of it.

Yes, she had created several in its image, but seeing the real diamond took her breath away.

The princess noted her awe. “It does that to everyone who sees it, for it is not simply beautiful, but there is a purity in its beauty, an honesty that inspires love.”

“Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder.”

“True, Mr. Hawk.” Princess Mary held the diamond out to Nathan. “What do you see?”

It was then that Rose realized Nathan’s eyes were not on the diamond, but on her.

“Ah.” He tapped a finger to his nose and offered a smile she wished he did not direct at her. “That would be telling.”

* * * * *

Dinner proved enjoyable, the princess regaling them with stories of court and Nathan enthralling them with tales of life in San Francisco and the New World, of Indians, and trains across vast landscapes that seemingly went on forever.

As the meal ended, an enveloping tiredness seemed to overcome them all and silence settled over the room. The princess pushed her wineglass away. “Tomorrow night there is to be a grand gala and you are, of course, all invited.” Her gaze rested on Rose’s father. “It is the least I can do. A thank-you for all you have done. Of course, I will wear the Pasha Star.” The princess reached over to Rose and took her hands in hers. “Will you help me make sure the clasp is secure?”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

“I have already requested a gown be stitched for you. Teal, I think, because it will be a perfect foil for your delightful coloring, do you not think so, Mr. Hawk?”

Nathan, his glass of claret at his lips, replaced the glass to the table. “Perfect.”

Perfect?

Did he really think so?

Rose stole a look at him, trying to decipher what she witnessed in his eyes, only to be forestalled as his long dark lashes veiled his expression.

He was talking of San Francisco. His home. The place he would return to. He was a man with an adventurous spirit. He lived in his world, and she in hers.

Rose continued to listen to his stories, and with each new one, a sense of sadness took hold, until finally she needed to leave.

She excused herself, exhaustion taking over, and headed upstairs to bed.

Despite her fatigue, sleep, however, proved impossible.

A soft knock sounded on her door.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

Whoever it was knocked again.

“Rosie, it’s me. Open up.”

Butterflies took flight in her stomach.

Rose tossed the covers back and scrambled from the bed, feet padding over the thick Oriental rug. Her hand clasped the door handle, but she hesitated, teeth scraping over her bottom lip.

Was this foolish?

The adventurous stories Nathan recounted at the dinner table came to mind. Adventure. His adventures.

Well, this is yours.

She opened the door. He stood with his shirt open, baring his chest. Flames heated Rose’s cheeks as scalding as any furnace, nipples pebbling beneath her nightgown. As discreetly as possible, she wrapped her arms across her chest.

“I’ve come to say I’m sorry.”

Her brows shot up. She hadn’t been expecting that. “About?”

“I should have insisted that you come with us to the cemetery.”

Her annoyance resurfaced. “You should have. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I wanted to keep you safe. Because…” His words stalled, his gaze traveling her length, igniting a palpable need inside her. “The princess was right.”

Her throat closed, but she forced herself to speak.

“About?” Even though she asked, she knew the answer.

“About beauty. About a lover’s quarrel.”

“But we’re not lovers.”
Oh, yes we are.

“Not quite true. I thought the other night proved that.”

“That was then, and this is now.”

“Which is?”

“Different. That was in the heat of the moment.”

Nathan grinned. “Definitely hot.”

“Nathan!”

“
Hmmm
.” He leaned closer, his breath washing across the bare skin above the neckline of her nightgown. His lips caressed her skin, and her eyes shuttered.

Resist.

He kissed her neck, her earlobe.

A heavy sigh slid from her chest. She was lost. Her head tipped back, allowing him access to her throat. Lost. Lost. So lost.

Her arms dropped away. “You should go.” She needed desperately for him to go, for to allow this moment would be to pass the point of no return, and then where would she be?

She stepped away, only to have Nathan step into the room. He closed the door behind him.

Rose’s heart thundered. All she could do was stand and stare at him. Nathan. The man she loved. The man she didn’t quite trust.

He reached a hand out to her, and she took it, twining her fingers with his.

Mistake.

Nathan Hawk drew her into his arms, her body hard up against his. “This is where you belong, Rosie.”

* * * * *

She lay in his arms, the aftermath of lovemaking delicious.

She didn’t want to think. Thinking brought uncertainty. But one word wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t leave her alone.

Belong?

Nathan had uttered that word before he’d kissed her. Before he’d made love to her. Before she’d given in. Where did she belong?

She knew the answer.

She earned a groan from Nathan as she slipped from his embrace and from the bed. “This cannot be, Nathan. You’re going back to San Francisco, to your life and I have mine. It’s time for you to leave.”

Nathan opened sleepy eyes. He lay on his back, exposed as any newborn babe. “I rather thought we could have seconds.”

“You thought wrong. Get up, and leave.”
Please
.

His humor evaporated, eyes suddenly dark and foreboding. “Come with me to America.”

Shock scored deep. He had asked her. She should be delighted.

She shook her head, not wanting to be held so captive by his gaze. “No, I cannot. My father needs me. I promised my mother I would look after him.”

“So get him to come with you.”

“He has uprooted himself once in life, and England is his home now. He has a good life here, a business with a clientele. To start up again at his age would be impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible if you want it enough.”

“Wanting something and having it are two different things, Nathan.” She realized that though he had asked her to come, he had not once mentioned love or marriage. Or anything. Just come. But as what? His lover? His mistress? And if he tired of her and left, then what?

No, she had a stable home and a place in the world here.

“You expect me to up and leave everything.”

“I did. It’s not that hard.”

“But you had nothing to keep you here. No family. No responsibilities.” Rose reached for her nightgown and drew it over her head. As she did up the few buttons, she knew each represented an inevitable closure to this moment.

The last button done up, she took a step back. “Good-bye, Nathan.” Rose spun away lest he witness the tears welling in her eyes. She held herself ramrod straight, shoulders back and head up high. For a moment, she heard nothing, then his movements. Trousers on. His shirt. The soft shuffle of his footsteps as he walked to the door.

It opened, and Rose’s heart broke that bit more.

“I will not ask again, Rosie.”

The door closed behind him, and she scooted over and locked it.

They had just made love for the last time, and she had sent him away. This moment, this dream, this fantasy, was over. Forever.

Chapter Eighteen

The next night, despite the tension curled in her gut, praying that they were at last free from Prince Randolph, Rose couldn’t stifle her excitement at attending such a gala. True to her promise, the princess’s seamstresses had worked diligently and provided the most exquisite gown in teal satin with an overlay of a similar-colored tissue. Silk roses adorned the rather risqué décolleté.

About to retrieve her reticule, Rose heard voices in the corridor. Angry voices.

Nathan? Ben?

Rose hadn’t seen Nathan’s business partner, Ben Steel, since they’d caught her at the exhibition.

Their voices grew louder. Rose stepped to the door, but rather than go out and face them, she rested her ear against the door and listened.

“The London office is opening in two weeks. The orders are coming in thick and fast. I need you there, Nathan.”

“No, it’s out of the question. Bloody hell, Ben, you’re asking too much of me. Not now. I can’t.”

Stay?

He can’t.

Won’t.

Didn’t want to.

Rose’s fantasy evaporated finally and fully. How stupid she had been even to think that…

She pushed herself from the door. Nathan Hawk could go to Timbuktu as far as she was concerned. She did not need an unreliable man in her life. With one last glance at her image in the cheval mirror, satisfied she looked the best she could manage, though now it seemed rather unimportant, she opened her chamber door.

Two heads swiveled her way, their voices silencing.

“Rose.” Nathan stepped toward her, but she held up a hand, stalling him.

“Don’t bother coming any closer, Nathaniel, I don’t want to hear one word from you.”

His mouth twitched, though there was a distinct wariness in his darkened eyes. “Which word would that be?”

“Any excuse. Go back to your precious San Francisco and your locks. Just make sure you make them impregnable, or else word might get out that you’re a fake.” She sidestepped him and offered a curt glance at Ben Steel, whose smile held a hint of mischievousness. She ignored him and desperately tried to ignore the thunder in her heart, and the screaming voice in her head that said
turn around, kiss him, tell him you love him.

Rose ignored it all and, with her head held high, refusing to acknowledge the threat of tears, she walked away. She would get through tonight’s gala, and then she would leave. She did not ever want to see Nathan Hawk again.

Oh, I am such a liar.

It was the longest walk she’d ever had, and with each step, she felt his gaze boring into her back. She ignored the feeling, ignored the temptation to turn and run back to him. Finally, she reached the princess’s suite of rooms. She knocked on the door and was let in by the ever-present Serena.

“Her Highness is awaiting you.”

In awe of the opulence, Rose entered. Soft blue wallpaper covered the walls, and through one door to the left, she spied a canopied bed draped in swaths of creamy lace. Through the second door on the far side of the room, Serena gathered up some of the princess’s clothing. A wardrobe that was actually a room. Such luxury.

Princess Mary stood nervously fingering a curl. “Do you think this gown is the right one?”

“It’s perfect.” It was. Pure white, it set off her fair hair and blue eyes. Tiny fresh roses were entwined in her hair.

“I thought not to wear other jewelry but to allow the Pasha Star to shine in all its glory.”

“Wouldn’t the Pasha Star be safer back at the exhibition in Nathan’s case?”

“Not so.” The princess retrieved the diamond from the velvet-lined case on her dressing table. “Now it is back in its rightful place, I will not let this out of my sight until my son is crowned my heir.”

Rose glanced around the room, noting the staff had moved off. She fingered the cloth pouch in the pocket of her cape. “Your Highness, may I make a suggestion?”

The princess eyed her reflection in the cheval glass, the glittering jewel at her throat resplendent. “Of course.”

Rose stepped forward, so close that she could whisper to the princess, for her suggestion was for the princess’s ears only.

Some minutes later, she and the princess stepped back into the main lounge of the royal suite.

“By the way, Miss Valetta, how is your Mr. Hawk?”

Rose’s stomach churned, but she forced herself not to react. “We’ve parted ways, Your Highness.”

“Oh no. Why? You are so perfect for each other.”

Perfect?

Rose shook her head. “No, not perfect. Nothing is perfect. Mr. Hawk has his own life across the seas.”

“Your father would not prevent your happiness.”

“My father
is
my happiness. Seeing him safe and sound is enough.” They descended the stairs and joined her father and Nathan.

The first sight of Nathan took Rose’s breath away.

He’d dressed in the finest of evening attire, his white shirt crisp, the black of his jacket and trousers a perfect match for his obsidian eyes.

Though she stole one look, she promised herself she would not look again.

Nathan remained silent.

Just as I want it.

The gala was underway as the princess exited onto the terrace, with Nathan, Rose’s father and herself following behind the royal as her guests. Instead of the event being held in the grand ballroom, the extensive terrace that led out from it had been set up with seating and stands of burning candles. With the Thames bordering the grassy landscape, a flotilla of barges decorated in the flags of various dignitaries attending the princess’s gala fluttered in the gentle breeze while thousands of stars in the night sky twinkled down on them. It looked like an image from a fairy tale.

To one side, a small orchestra played on a stage, and already dancers swayed to the music, laughter and smiling faces everywhere.

Despite her reticence in being in Nathan’s company, Rose couldn’t stem her delight at such a wonderful moment. She, Rose Valetta, was attending a royal gala.

Her nerves fluttered, and she wiped her gloved hands down the sides of her gown as inconspicuously as she could.

“Nervous, squirt?” Nathan leaned into her, and automatically her body heated.

Damn it. She needed to get control of herself. Keeping her promise, she fixed her gaze firmly ahead at the guests all bedecked in their finest jewels and rich satins and silks. “I’m not nervous. This is just a large party.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s the party you’re worried about.”

She offered a nonchalant shake of her head, when inside she was a tumultuous riot of confusion. “Really? What else is there?”

The back of his hand grazed the length of her arm. “This.”

A lump formed in her throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

She flicked her fan open, fluttering it with a rapid jerky motion that at least gave her the chance to move from his touch. “You are wrong, Mr. Hawk. You are living in a fantasy world.”

“Definitely a fantasy, but then fantasy and reality have collided with beautiful repercussions too, remember?”

She did. And that was the problem. Her body and heart had become addicted to this man.

My heart?

“No. I will not allow it.” Her heart had nothing to do with this. With Nathan. With her. She wouldn’t let it.

“Rosie?” Concern tinged Nathan’s voice, and he closed the gap she had so desperately sought to expand between them. “What’s the matter?”

Rose twined her fingers together to prevent their shaking. She tried not to look at him and failed.

Oh dear heaven, help me.

“Nothing is the matter.” She flicked her fan open again and fanned herself. Her stomach did a somersault. Damn it. “Go away, Nathan. Go back to where you belong.” Far, far away, where she would never see him again.

But the thought of never seeing him again stirred an all-encompassing sadness.

Just then, a rather dandy-looking gentleman, his clothes the most expensive, if overly flamboyant she had ever seen, came to her. “Miss Valetta, I believe. I am Lord Fraser. Would you do me the honor of this next dance?” He held his gloved hand out to her.

Rose didn’t hesitate. Anything to get away from Nathan. She took the peer’s hand, and, without looking back at Nathan, she walked onto the dance floor.

The man held her a fraction too close for comfort, but Rose wasn’t quite sure how to ease from his hold without arousing public interest. The niceties of society were not part of her normal life.

Instead, she lost herself to the music, to the laughter and joy surrounding them, her eyes closing momentarily.

“I do declare, Miss Valetta, you are the light of the evening.”

Her eyes fluttered open and a tinkling laugh tripped from her lips. “And I think you are trying too hard, Lord Fraser. Let us just enjoy the music.”

Wrapped in the man’s embrace, Rose felt herself being swept away by the music, the faces around them a blur as the peer twirled her around the room.

Then she saw him—them—as clear and blatant as could be. No hiding. Nathan leaned into Tommy Pratchett, the man who was Prince Randolph’s assistant.

What did they have to talk about?

She lost sight of them as her dance partner turned her away, and the next minute, there was no sight of Nathan or the other man.

Lord Fraser was all talk, and Rose found it difficult to keep track of what the man was yapping about. The music slowed, and she exhaled a relieved sigh. She needed to leave this place.

Then Nathan was at her side. “My dance, I think, sir.” He didn’t wait for the peer to respond but whipped her from Lord Fraser’s arms and into his, twirling her away with speed.

“Stop. What are you doing?”

“I think they call it cutting in.”

“Why?

“Because you were flirting with him, and you have no idea who you were dealing with.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did you know Lord Fraser has already buried two wives?”

Rose gulped.

“No, I guessed as much.” Nathan’s hold around her waist tightened, her feet in perfect time with his, body swaying deliciously close to him.

Memories of years ago returned. Of the nights she had sat out on the window ledge of her small bedchamber watching the stars and imagining this exact moment. Of dancing with Nathan. Being held. Those had been childish fantasies, and yet now they were real.

Her silence offered him her agreement, and he twirled her around the dance floor. Her eyes shuttered, lost to the music, the feel of his hands holding her close. She sighed.
If only.

“Rosie. Squirt.”

Her lashes fluttered open. She looked up into Nathan’s face, and her heart lurched.

Dear God, she loved him. So totally and truly.

“The music has finished. The dance is over.”

“Over?” With great embarrassment, she glanced around. The music had indeed ceased and the dancers had retreated, leaving just the two of them alone on the dance floor.

What a fool she was, lost in a love-fueled fugue. She stepped back, and, her head held high, her gaze fixed firmly ahead, she walked off the dance floor.

But it was more than that. She had to leave
him.
Close off her heart.

She got no farther than the outer rim of the grand patio when Tommy Pratchett forestalled her.

Rose didn’t quite trust this man. He’d been Nathan’s childhood friend, but earlier she’d spied them arguing.

Now the man stood in her way.

“Going somewhere, Miss Valetta?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“But you’re going to miss all the fun.”

Nathan came up alongside. “I thought you were leaving, Tommy.”

“All in good time. There’s a surprise ending tonight. I’m sorry I borrowed your Raven. You can have him back.”

“Back?” Rose exclaimed. “What are you talking about? Who is the Raven?”

“I told you to keep quiet, Pratchett.” Nathan’s tone held a distinct edge to it, causing the hairs on the back of Rose’s neck to rise.

“Nathan?” Rose glanced at him. “What’s going on?”

“Just the past. Nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t be condescending. You’re hiding something.”

Tommy nodded. “We’re
all
hiding something.”

She looked from one man to the other. “What, exactly?” Rose stilled. Everything in her being reeled as the truth dawned and slowly infiltrated her brain. She slapped the flat of her hand to her forehead. “You!
You
are the thief. The Raven?”

“Rosie.” Nathan reached for her hand, but she jerked out of his reach.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Rosie, I can explain.”

“What? That you were playing at being Robin Hood?” She held up a hand to stall any explanation. “Don’t bother.”

He didn’t heed her request. “It was a long time ago, Rosie. A lifetime.”

Shock spiraled in Rose’s chest. “Were you stealing when you lived with us?”

Nathan took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “No, of course not. That all stopped.”

“Why? How?”

“Before I met your father, my life was…different.”

“Different?” Confusion scrambled in her brain. “How different?”

“Before your father hauled me from the streets that day, I was…not an honest young man. I grew up on the streets, learned the hard way how to make a living.”

“By stealing.”

He nodded again, shame coloring his expression. “It was a long time ago, Rosie. My mother disappeared with yet another ‘uncle’, and my father was long gone. No one cared about me. No one even fed me. I realized I had a dexterity of hand and did what I had to do to survive. And then, thank God, I met your father and that life was no more. When Alex took me in, my world changed. Not only Alex but you changed my life.”

“Funny way you had of showing it. You took off without even telling us where you were going.”

“I had to leave in a hurry.”

Rose wrapped her arms across her middle, trying to stop the angry pain stabbing in her gut and steady her breaking heart. “Got caught stealing again, did you?”

“No. Some hooligans tried to stop me as I took those emeralds to Lord Grosvenor. They stole them. I tried to stop them, and one of the passersby got caught up in the fracas. He fell, hit his head and died on the spot.”