“Get some sleep,” he ordered softly.
Her chin inched up. She felt faint with the sudden need to be in his arms−to feel his lips against hers. This was not like her. Not at all. It was definitely the stress and lack of sleep.
When his warm hand cupped her cheek, she closed her eyes to lock in the sensation.
“I’ll be right next to you if you need me,” he whispered. “Tomorrow I’ll follow up on the leads you have given me.”
“Right next to me?”
A shadow of a smile crossed his lips. “A figure of speech, Elena,” he added huskily. “I’ll be in the guest room right next to you.”
“Oh.”
Had he detected the disappointment in her voice? Again his expression shifted, but this time dark swirls of hunger curled into his eyes. The hand on her cheek drifted behind her neck, into her hair.
“I can’t be tempted by you,” he wrenched out the words.
More than her heart started throbbing. Her eyelids were so heavy. She was dreaming on her feet, imagining this man naked. Imagining him inside her. Oh God, how long had it been? Would she even know how to please him?
“But damn, woman. That look on your face is testing my strength. You better get in your room now before I can’t stop myself.”
Don’t stop.
Amanda jolted, snapping out of the spell created under his touch−under his gaze. Easing her head away from that temptation, she glanced down to find very little space between them. She took a step of retreat to widen that gap.
“The alarm will be going off at five if you plan on going into the office when I do,” she stated.
His hand dropped from her hair. “Five o’clock it is, then.” There was a pleasant combination of amusement and heat in his voice. “If you need me before then, I’m right next door.”
If she was the Ice Queen, then this man had the power to melt her with one touch.
“Good night, Ray.”
***
Ray stretched atop the king-sized bed with his hands hooked behind his head. He stared towards the glow of the window. He was too high to see the lights of the city, but their radiance was present in the soft golden arc cast across the wall.
Amanda appeared in that golden aura, the ethereal light making her hair shimmer and her eyes iridescent. In that ghostly glow, her pale skin sparkled.
Ray blinked. No one was in his room. He was just horny as hell. There was no denying the expression in Amanda’s eyes a few moments ago. That message nearly brought him to his knees. It was the innocence of it that floored him. It was not a practiced seduction. She wasn’t wiggling her eyebrows and coyly suggesting they do the nasty. No, she had not meant for him to catch that look of deep desire, but she was so immersed in it, it was impossible to conceal. It made him hard and uncomfortable−and lonely in this big bed. God, he wanted her−to roam his hands over every inch of the beautiful Ice Queen−to trace his fingers up under the business skirts that were driving him crazy. He wanted to see more than the flash of thigh he had caught the other night. He wanted his lips on those long legs.
Christ.
Of course her reaction was a result of fatigue and anxiety. All she wanted was a release, and something to hold onto.
With all his heart he wished he could be the man to give her both. That brief kiss on the plane lingered to the point that every time he looked at her lips he could still taste them. Clearly that was no way to represent her−to protect her. If he couldn’t cage his desires he was going to have to yank himself off this contract. That couldn’t happen. He was too vested in this woman, and didn’t trust anyone else to protect her.
Turning his head on the pillow he stared at the wall that separated him from his fantasy. Taupe paint. White crown molding. On the other side Amanda was tucked in her large bed with her blonde hair fanning over a satin pillow. Yes, he knew the sheets were satin. He’d made that observation when doing surveillance on the room.
Was she staring at her wall? Was she contemplating coming to him? What would he do if that door opened?
Anything she wanted.
***
Ray woke with a start. A shrill peal had him launching off the bed. Coherence washed away the fog as he identified the screech of water running through pipes. No matter how fancy this flat was, the building was still old, and so were the pipes.
The thought of Amanda in the shower didn’t improve his mood. With a lurch he managed his way in the dark to locate the guest bathroom. He grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand.
5:02am.
Damn, didn’t the woman need sleep?
An hour later he was pulling into the underground garage in George Darby’s Fiat. Prying his knees out of his ears Ray exited the small vehicle, missing his Jeep desperately. Naturally, Amanda disregarded his instructions to wait in the car until he came around. He reached the rear bumper in time to see one black-stockinged leg and black pump climb out of the passenger door. The motion hiked up the hem of her skirt enough to make his heart stutter.
“I told you to wait until I came around.”
“I’m late,” she argued, shouldering past him.
Elena was back in full force−all powers restored now that she had returned to her castle.
Keeping up with her pace, he surveyed the garage, eyeing the shadows for anyone lying in wait. Instinctively his hand dipped under his jacket to dust against the gun.
A blast of warm air smacked his face as the sliding glass doors opened. Amanda’s heels clicked on the marble floor as he followed those slim spears to the elevator. Her floor was empty, the curved receptionist area dimly illuminated with LED lighting beneath the countertop.
Once she was seated behind her desk all forms of communication with her ceased. He stood inside her door with his arms crossed giving her sufficient time to scan her email before he asked, “Anything?”
The tight up-do shook to the negative. No more alliteration, though. A few more minutes of her feverishly typing on the keyboard and he knew she was immersed in backlog. Taking a cautious spin around the perimeter of her office, lingering in a closet and en suite, he felt assured that there was no one in hiding, and nothing had been planted.
Turning back to the regal figure behind the desk, he indulged in watching her. It took a battle of wills but he finally shook himself from the reverie.
“I have some calls to make,” he announced. “I’ll be in the reception area right outside your office.”
The blonde coiled bun nodded once in affirmation.
“If anything comes in to you−email−voicemail−call me in right away.”
Another perfunctory nod.
“Amanda.”
Finally, she glanced up. God help him when he looked into those eyes. There was a whole lot more there than just a pretty shade of blue. There was pain. There was redemption. There was strength−and there was passion. She might be playing the role of the Ice Queen right now, but her eyes deceived her. When she met his gaze they widened for a fraction of a second−long enough for him to catch her keen awareness of him, and glimpse the desire before she clamped down on her emotions.
“Yes,” she answered quietly. “I will call you.”
Her head dipped back down to the monitor.
What he would give to take her away from all of this−if only for a little while.
Ray let himself out, cursing every reason that he couldn’t be the man to take her away.
***
As the door clicked shut, Amanda’s hands dropped onto the desk. She stared at the blue diamond on her right ring finger.
Where did you come from?
Peeling her shoulders back, she tilted her neck to the left and then right. The stretch was to mend her frayed thoughts, but it didn’t work. Never before had she been distracted from business. Now, it was impossible to concentrate. She checked her cell phone again. All is well here, Mandy, the text from her aunt read. It was sent only fifteen minutes ago.
Amanda looked up at her office door. Was Ray li
terally on the other side of it? It was hard to picture his long-limbed body tucked into one of the padded chrome chairs in the waiting area. She could open the door and offer that he take a seat in the corner of her spacious office. At least she could keep tabs on his findings. That was probably the last thing he wanted, though. He had already gathered that she was coming apart. He didn’t need a hysterical female on his hands while he worked.
Amanda clicked on a spreadsheet sent from Sophie Barber. It was a list of BLUE-LINK employees that had partaken in the New York mentoring program. Sophie expressed regret that she was unable to meet with Amanda during her recent New York visit, but promised to speak with her soon.
How quickly the company had expanded. It was staggering if she allowed herself to grasp it. Instead, she focused on how to make it run tighter. No loose ends. The number of employees had grown exponentially, but now she would have Sophie implement an even greater vetting program.
The phone console buzzed, immediately followed by Miss Wyatt’s distinctive treble.
“A Charles Longmeier is on line 2. He said he met up with you at the conference in New York to discuss the migrant situation in Greece.”
The migrant situation was a topic she discussed with numerous attendees at the conference. It was a matter that BLUE-LINK was focusing on closely. Perhaps he was the gentleman looking to launch his mobile app in Greece.
She snapped up the phone. “Amanda Newton.”
“It’s time to end this dance,” the foreign voice began. “I think I’ve established my legitimacy. You know I can reach those closest to you. You know I’ve been in your residence. Now it’s time for you to give me what belongs to me.”
Amanda’s heart cramped. The pain stole her breath. She stared at the illuminated button on her phone console, wanting it to flash red and alert someone of an emergency. Instead, it was a solid innocuous white. It had passed Miss Wyatt’s auditing.
Amanda considered hanging up.
“I know I have your attention. It’s time that we meet, Amanda. I’ve done my research and see that you never went public with the diamonds. That interests me. Perhaps you can share the reason why in person. Clearly you’ve succeeded in life and don’t appear to need the money they would bring in. So, this can all be very simple. Give me the diamonds and you never hear from me again. You will simply go on with your affluent life.”
The phone shook in her tenuous grasp.
“You’re very quiet, Amanda.”
Concentrating on the articulation, she recognized that the accent was South African. She had enough dealings with the country to differentiate it from the phonological similarities of Australia, which the inflection was sometimes confused for.
Amanda’s eyes bore into her office door, mentally willing Ray to enter.
“You realize that this phone is being traced,” she stated coolly.
A grating chuckle filled the void. “Seriously? And where will they trace it to? A payphone in Trafalgar Square? I’ll be long gone before anyone gets to me−but to humor you, let’s make this short. Bring me my diamonds and this will all be over.”
“Who are you?” Amanda leaned forward, some of the bite returning to her voice. “Give me some valid proof that they belong to you.”
“Proof?” The low rumble of laughter was muted by a passing bus. “The proof is that if you don’t get those diamonds to me within the hour I will kill a member of your family. The last incident was just a warning that I could do it.”
Amanda rose on unsteady legs. She rounded her desk to get to the door−to get to Ray.
“You will lose the bodyguard−”
His command made her pause.
“−and you will meet me at the Leicester Square theatre ticket kiosk. If you do not come alone, I will make good on my threat. I’ll be watching from afar and will not approach unless I am certain you are alone.”
Amanda’s shoes cemented to the carpet. She raised her free hand to her forehead, quickly analyzing all options.
“Now, Amanda,” the voice hissed. “Time is ticking. You have less than an hour. Are your loved ones worth more than a couple of rocks?”
The connection ended.
A rash of thoughts cried out in unison, each argument lost in the cacophony of angst.
Marking the time on her clock, Amanda reached across her desk and smacked the console.
“Miss Wyatt.”
“Yes?”
“I just received a text alert that a package is waiting for me in the downstairs lobby.”
“But, but−” The frenetic sound keyboard taps had the assistant searching her records. “All packages should be announced to me. All couriers have my number as the point of contact.”
Painfully aware that Ray had to be listening to Miss Wyatt’s end of the conversation, Amanda continued.
“Well, this one must have slipped by. Perhaps it’s a new courier.”
“If it’s a new courier I will set them straight. I’m on my way down to the lobby now to retrieve the package.”
Miss Wyatt hung up, most likely sprinting to the elevator, preparing a verbal lashing to a courier that would never materialize.
Amanda waited a moment, staring in despair at the time dwindling on her watch. She stepped up to her door and opened it an inch, peering out into her sitting area.
Empty.
As she expected, Ray was on his way down to investigate the fabricated package. There was a pang of remorse for being deceptive, but she couldn’t gamble on the lives of her loved ones. She couldn’t gamble on his life. This was her adversity to overcome. She wanted to face this stranger. She wanted to hear his tale at any risk.
Should Ray handle this? Should the police handle this? Probably. But, shirking responsibility wasn’t her forté.
Pushing the panic bar on the door that opened into the interior stairwell, she began the long descent, already feeling the chill pervade this unheated space. She hadn’t grabbed her coat. There was no time. Gauging the concrete steps, she stole a glimpse at her watch. Forty-six minutes to go. Calculating the length of time for the tube ride and the hike to the ticket kiosk, she should make it with minutes to spare, barring any unforeseen obstacles.
As she reached the ground floor, she glanced down the hallway towards the door to the main lobby. Just on the other side of that entry Ray had probably already determined that there was no courier. On cue, her muted cellphone vibrated with his incoming text.
Amanda turned in the opposite direction and shoved open the service door to the back alley. Dodging garbage dumpsters in her high heels, she managed an even jog in the cool shadows trapped between tall buildings. At the end of the alley the sun hit her face. Squinting against its assault, she peered up and down the busy street, and launched into the crowd making their way to the closest Underground station.
Standing inside the moving train she ignored the curious glances of the commuters around her. A chill worked its way through her limbs, but she ignored that as well. In her hand the cell phone vibrated again. One glance at it, and she turned it off with a choked sob. I’m sorry, Ray.
At the Leicester Square station she climbed the slow-moving escalator, tempted to take off her heels for a quicker ascent.
Twenty-five minutes.
Still plenty of time.
Bursting out into the streets, she walked as briskly as possible against the flux of tourists until she saw the Odeon Theatre and caught her first glimpse of the ticket kiosk. Beneath the oversized letters, TKTS, a man slouched with one leg crooked against the façade of the small structure.
As she approached he righted himself. Amanda held her breath in anticipation. A blue baseball cap concealed the eyes, and an oversized green windbreaker covered pretty much everything else—possibly even a rifle. In a fluid move, the man reached up and hoisted the cap off his head, turning it upside down and extending it in invitation.
“Can you spare some change?”
Disconcerted, she took a step of retreat.
> “This way,” a voice commanded from behind.
Even against the backdrop of screaming kids in the square, a nearby guitar-playing busker, and the price-haggling on the other side of the kiosk, there was no mistaking the subtle accent of the man from the phone call. Turning away from the panhandler, she witnessed a man in a black overcoat and jeans stalking away. She started after him.
Following the flapping trenches and weathered boot soles, she caught a glimpse of his profile as he pivoted his head to confirm she was in pursuit. He wore wire-framed sunglasses and had close-cropped, near-black hair.
Amanda cast a frantic glance about her, chronicling the nearest individuals, noting that there wasn’t a bobby in sight. In that split second of distraction her target nearly disappeared around the corner. She fought pedestrian traffic and located him standing just inside a parking garage. As she fell into the shadows of the overhang, the scent of fuel was strong, but the street noise was muffled. A stifling sense of vulnerability struck her, but she had to face him. She had to know.
The man stopped at the base of the ramp to the next level. He was slightly taller than her and seemingly lanky under his oversized coat. On close inspection she saw that his hair was cut short enough to reveal the chiseled path of a scar above his left ear. The dark hair was peppered with gray and the angular chin possessed a slashed scar as well. In his reflective lenses she saw her hair collapsing from its tight bun into chaotic blonde tendrils. The pale flesh exposed by her collar was dotted with goose bumps. Wind cut through the thin satin fabric, but she held her head high in challenge.
“Talk,” she commanded.
“Let me see the diamonds,” he retorted.
“Not yet. I came here alone. I honored your wishes. But you have put me through hell over something I have little knowledge of. Tell me how you know about the diamonds. Tell me!”
An acerbic smile stretched the scar across his chin. He reached up and tugged the sunglasses off of his ears. Crisp green eyes drew more of a chill than the pervasive wind. They were like looking at the frosted green hills of her parents’ cemetery. The color of grass riddled in ice, waiting for its day to grow again−only with this man, it looked like that day would never come. From the wear and tear to his face, along with the traces of gray, she estimated him to be in his mid-forties.
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