The Rogue's Fortune

by Cat Schield

  “They will love it.” And her. Conscious of their audience, he stepped into her space and felt her muscles tense. “Relax,” he murmured. “Everyone is going to know about us after tonight.”

  “I know.” She lifted her chin and gave him a wobbly smile.

  Her soft rosy lips practically demanded his attention, but he kissed her cheek instead, lingering over her fragrant skin, listening to the uneven cadence of her breath. He disturbed her. Good. That was only fair since she made him mad with wanting. He couldn’t wait to set her on fire and lose himself in the moist welcome of her body. With effort Roark mastered the urgent craving to sweep her into his arms and mark her as his.

  Time enough for that later.

  “Can you take a break?”

  She nodded. “The caterers should be here any minute, but Sara can supervise their setup.”

  “Wonderful. Let’s go talk in my study. I have something for you.”

  He guided her into his favorite room in the loft, a cluttered space lined with overflowing bookshelves. It was here that he spent most of his time, surrounded by the ancient texts that helped him unlock secrets to treasures hidden for centuries.

  Plucking a black box off a pile of photographs, he opened it to reveal her engagement ring. Her shocked silence lasted until he slid the three-carat diamond onto her finger.

  “I’ve never worn anything so expensive.”

  “It suits you.”

  Her slender fingers appeared even more delicate weighted down with the thick band of diamonds. Roark rotated her hand and watched fire dance in the gems, enjoying the slight tremble of her fingers.

  “It’ll take some getting used to.”

  “The ring or me?”

  Her lips quirked in a wry smile. “Both.”

  Before either of them saw it coming, he brushed his lips against hers, capturing her amusement for himself. His heart hammered against his ribs at her sharp oh of surprise. The texture of her lips fascinated him. He explored the plump contours with the same focus he might use when evaluating a precious artifact. This woman deserved to be treated with all the reverence he reserved for the things he pursued with such single-minded determination.

  “Roark.”

  His name, whispered out of her, sparked his impatience. As lust sliced away at his control, he spread his fingers against the small of her back and drew her tight against his aching body. “Say it again.”

  She pulled back at his command, her torso arching. Passion-drenched and dreamy, her eyes met his. “What?”

  “My name.” He kissed her nose. “Just put a little more heat behind it.” It was a dangerous request. His passion might be simmering now, but it wouldn’t take much to push it into a roiling boil.

  “Is this how you plan to be tonight?”

  “And every night hereafter.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Roark.” More a warning than a caress.

  He hummed and shook his head. “No one’s going to believe you’re madly in love with me if you use that tone. Try again.”

  “Roark.” Exasperated.

  “They’ll believe we’re together if you sound impatient. But I had something more like this in mind.” He cupped her face, snared her gaze and held her immobile with his steely will. “Elizabeth.”

  To his amusement, her eyes widened and her mouth popped open. He rarely spent time with women that couldn’t handle his brand of seduction. Sophisticated women knew the score. Understood that he might be in it for the short-term, but that he would make it worth their while.

  Elizabeth possessed an innocence that both captivated and concerned him. She hadn’t signed up to be seduced. And it was all he could think about doing.

  “Do women fall for that?”

  Her question shattered the sensual mood.

  He frowned. “What do you mean do women fall for that?”

  “The sexy voice. The take-off-your-clothes look.”

  No one had ever called him on it before. “I’ve never had any complaints.” He cocked his head and regarded her. “Why aren’t you falling for it?”

  Her lashes lowered, concealing the secrets in her eyes. “Because I’m wise to your type.”

  “My type?” Unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, he prompted, “What type is that?”

  “Bad boys.”

  “How is it you’re immune?”

  “Fool me once, shame on you,” she quipped. “Fool me twice, shame on me.”

  “The best way to learn is by making mistakes.”

  “And yet I continue to make them. It’s pretty apparent I have terrible judgment where men are concerned.”

  This intrigued him. She gave the appearance of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and went after it. “Forgive me if I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true.” She twirled the diamond ring on her finger, but he could see her mind was far from the jewelry. “In high school, college and a year ago. The last one was the worst. I really believed if I loved him enough he would settle down and want to be a husband and a father.” A harsh laugh broke from her, filled with self-loathing. “It was idiotic of me to believe he could change, that he might care enough about me to change. A scorpion is a scorpion. They behave according to their nature.”

  “If you want to get married and have kids why not pick the sort of man that wants the same thing?”

  “Because those aren’t the ones I’m attracted to.” Her eyes were cool as they met his. “As much as I fought against it, I couldn’t stop falling for unavailable men. The ones who don’t show up when they’re supposed to. Who forget to call you. Can’t remember birthdays or special occasions.”

  Roark knew he’d been guilty of every one of those things at one point or another. How many women had become disillusioned with love because of him?

  “But despite every disappointment, I didn’t leave because occasionally there’s a brief, exciting moment when he’d focus on me and for a while everything would be all right. And when the moment ended, I would spend all my energy trying to make it happen again. Eventually I decided that if the only man I want is bad for me, I’m just not going to be with anyone.”

  The shadows in her eyes bothered him. “I’m sorry those men hurt you.”

  She shrugged. “I let it happen. But never again. I’m done with bad boys. Done with disappointment. From now on, I’m going to focus on what I want. A fabulous career and motherhood.”

  And heaven help the man that got in the way.

  * * *

  Still disturbingly light-headed from Roark’s intoxicating kiss, Elizabeth wiggled into the strapless silver sheath she’d bought for her “engagement” party, wondering what had possessed her to lay out her past romantic troubles for Roark. She could have acted the part of his fiancée for six months and kept things strictly business between them. Instead, she’d been so rattled by his seductive power that she’d been compelled to toss an overabundance of obstacles in his path.

  She was a fool for panicking.

  Flirting was like breathing to a playboy like Roark. As natural to him as following a scent was to a hound. She needn’t worry about being the target of his chase. They had a business arrangement. She would just have to keep reminding him about that.

  Hair up or down? She regarded her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she smoothed a comb through her blond curls. Did her eyes seem brighter tonight? Perhaps she was dazzled by the size of the diamond on her left hand? She admired the ring. Its heavy awkwardness on her finger reminded her of the weight of what she was doing with Roark. No one must suspect they weren’t a happily engaged couple.

  Could she put on a good enough show?

  Lying wasn’t something that came easy to her. Maybe if she simply lost herself in the fantasy of being the woman he adored. At least for a few hours a couple nights a week. As long as she lived in the real world by day, everything should work out just fine.

  Or so she hoped.

  Roark’s guests had arrived while she primped. If
she’d lingered overly long over her appearance, she could blame it on wanting to make a good impression on his friends. But in fact, she was grappling with her conscience and a minor case of nerves.

  This would be the first party she’d organized where remaining invisible wasn’t part of her job description. It was an odd sensation to walk into a room full of people and feel a dozen pairs of eyes bore into her.

  As if aware of her discomfort, Roark intercepted her before she’d taken three steps into the room. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her lightly on the mouth.

  “Breathtaking,” he murmured, following up the first brush of his lips with a second, less fleeting contact. “Let’s tell everyone to go home so I can have you all to myself.”

  His gaze gripped hers, deadly serious, but he’d raised his voice loud enough so those around him could hear. Elizabeth’s heart jerked in her chest, but she pasted on a bright smile.

  “Stop that,” she scolded, keeping her tone light. It disturbed her how much she enjoyed his obvious desire for her. She couldn’t let the chemistry between them flare. Playing along with his charade was one thing. Falling for his shenanigans would only leave her heart bruised when they parted. “What will your guests think?”

  “That I haven’t spent nearly enough time alone with you.”

  She put her hand on his cheek. “We can rectify that later.”

  His nostrils flared. Eyes widened in surprise and appreciation. He caught her hand and placed a searing kiss in the palm. Like when he’d traced her head line at the wine auction party, her body burst into glorious life.

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Despite the fact that she knew this was for the benefit of the people who’d been invited to the party so they could spread the word of Roark’s engagement, for a couple seconds she had a hard time catching her breath.

  Damn the man for being so convincing. She was starting to believe their charade.

  “In the meantime, could you introduce me to some of your friends.”

  She knew her color was high as Roark drew her toward the first knot of guests. The next hour flew by in a blur of names and faces. Many she recognized. Keeping up on the society pages made sense for an ambitious party planner. A few she didn’t recognize. About halfway around the room, Elizabeth realized Roark’s guest list included almost all the board members from Waverly’s. Since his goal was to put a positive spin on his personal life, naturally, his engagement party would include the people he needed to sway.

  Given her coworkers’ shock when she’d announced her engagement to Roark and their countless questions about why she’d been keeping such a juicy secret, Elizabeth had expected similar reactions from Roark’s guests. To her surprise, everyone had greeted her warmly.

  Well, not quite everyone.

  Hostility radiated from a sultry, dark-eyed woman in her early twenties. She’d arrived late on the arm of an equally tall and striking young man who must be her brother—such was the resemblance between them. The exotic attractiveness of the pair snared the interest of those assembled.

  “Who is that?” she asked Roark, indicating the beauty.

  “Sabeen. And her brother Darius. He’s the reason I spent the last three months in the Amazon.”

  Was it her imagination or did Roark sound disgruntled? “I thought you were there because you’d run into trouble with local drug lords.”

  “Darius ran into trouble. I went there to get him out of it.”

  “What was he doing in South America?”

  “Looking for a temple I’d mentioned seeing years ago. It happens to be in a territory occupied by a very dangerous man.”

  “So, he’s an antiquities hunter like you.”

  “No, he’s not like me. He was after treasure that he intended to sell and become rich.” A crease appeared between Roark’s brows.

  “Did he find the temple?”

  “No. He was captured first.” Roark grimaced. “I warned him what the temple held wasn’t worth risking his life.”

  “Then why did he go?”

  “He’s in love with a girl. They grew up next door to each other in Cairo. Her father refuses to let them marry. He’s ambitious and wants to marry his daughter to a very wealthy man. Darius hoped that by selling what he found in the temple he could become rich enough to change her father’s mind.”

  “That’s very romantic.”

  Roark shot her a dubious glance. “It’s foolish. And he continues to pine for Fadira even though he can never have her.”

  “Maybe the father will change his mind.”

  “It’s too late. While we were in Columbia, her father arranged her marriage. The wedding is set for the end of the month.”

  “Someone rich?”

  Roark nodded. “And powerful. Sheikh Mallik Khouri of Rayas.”

  Elizabeth’s head spun. “Doesn’t his family own the missing Gold Heart statue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this just a huge coincidence, or…” Elizabeth was gripped by a strong sense of foreboding.

  Roark’s expression was grim. “I don’t know.”

  She mulled the situation, sensing there was something Roark was holding back.

  “But Fadira’s not married yet,” she insisted, rooting for Darius to get his heart’s desire. “There’s still a chance for love to conquer all.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  Elizabeth could see she was wasting her breath trying to convince Roark that love wasn’t a crazy, imprudent emotion. Her attention shifted back to Darius, and discovered Sabeen’s gaze on her. Contempt flickered in their dark depths.

  To feel that much hostility from a stranger put Elizabeth on full alert. “What about Sabeen?” Elizabeth cursed the tight tone in her voice.

  “What about her?”

  “Is there a reason why she looks as if she’d like to crush me like a bug?”

  “Don’t read anything into it. She can be volatile. I’m sure all you’re seeing is that she’s annoyed with me for springing this engagement on her.”

  Elizabeth searched his bland expression, sensing that he wasn’t telling her everything. Did Sabeen’s antagonism stem from jealousy? How close were she and Roark? What had Elizabeth gotten in the middle of?

  “Why didn’t you ask for her help?”

  His lips twitched. Amusement brightened his eyes as his gaze captured hers. He lifted her hand to his lips. “Because I can’t trust her.”

  The implication being he could trust Elizabeth. Her traitorous heart skipped in delight until his next words.

  “She’s far too passionate. She’d get swept up in the romance. I’d never get her to accept that the engagement was a business arrangement.”

  “She’s in love with you.” Elizabeth’s spirits dipped.

  He shrugged, but didn’t deny her claim. “I knew her father for twenty years. He taught me Arabic and Persian. He was a brilliant man. Everything I know about Middle Eastern antiquities I learned from him. Before he died, he asked me to look after his children.”

  Only they weren’t children. They were a passionate, sultry woman ripe for love and an adventure-seeking young man who looked like he was bursting with boredom at such a tame event as this.

  “They don’t appear as if they need looking after.”

  Roark’s lips quirked. “Looks can be deceiving. Earlier this year I chased off a fortune hunter. She loses all common sense when it comes to love.”

  “Good thing she has you around to teach her how to be sensible.” Elizabeth rolled the engagement ring around her finger.

  “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Only that you seem to have an overabundance of skepticism about falling in love.”

  “It’s not skepticism,” he retorted. “It’s practicality. Few women are going to be happy with a man who’s gone most of the year. They need constancy, want a partner. I can’t provide either.”

  Was he warning her off? If so, he was wasting his breath. S
he recognized his type. Exciting. Challenging. But in the end, unavailable.

  “And I’m not in the market for a man in my life,” she spoke more to herself than him.

  “So you say.”

  “So I mean.” Elizabeth made sure he recognized the firm determination in her expression before she continued. “I won’t deny you are exactly the type I used to go for, but those days are behind me. All I want now is to become a mother and excel as an event planner. I’m done with romance.” With men, she added silently.

  “Pity.” Half-lidded, his striking eyes perused her body with sensual intensity. “I have plans for you.”

  “What?” A startled laugh escaped her at his bluntness. Her skin tingled as if he’d touched her. The sensation delighted her even as her mind scolded her for succumbing to his flirtation. “What sort of plans?” She winced at the husky timber of her voice. Damn the man for being so appealing.

  A slow, predatory grin curved his chiseled lips. “Why don’t you stick around after the party and I’ll give you a preview.”

  Wicked man.

  “Why don’t you just tell me now.”

  “Because a demonstration is worth a thousand words,” he quipped. “And I think we would scandalize this staid group if I showed you what I had in mind for you.”

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself.” Stop flirting with the man. “What if I’m immune to your charm?”

  He brushed his fingertips down her bare arm, thumb grazing the side of her breast. She gasped. Her nipples hardened in anticipation.

  “Are you?”

  A ragged breath escaped her. “Apparently parts of me are not.”

  “It’s those parts I’m interested in.” He bent his head and kissed her cheek, his lips gentle and cooler than her overheated skin.

  She was in trouble if he could set fire to her with nothing more than a series of provocative declarations. “And here I thought you wanted me for my keen mind.”

  “I like my women well-rounded.”

  Before she could reply to his double entendre they were approached by George Cromwell and his wife, Bunny. Despite knowing that impressing the socialite would help open doors in the future, Elizabeth had a hard time focusing on the impeccably dressed woman as she congratulated them on their engagement. Roark’s right palm rested on her hip, his fingers cupping her curves possessively. His solid presence bathed her left side in warmth. Relaxing into his strength would be the easiest thing in the world. Her body was already melting against the hard planes of his muscular frame.