by Kristi Gold
Ben raced from the bedroom at a run, his heart keeping time with his gait, only one goal on his mind.
Reaching Jamie before it was too late.
The floorboard squeaked beneath Jamie’s feet, startling her. The hallway was dark, very dark, and she felt eerily disturbed. Usually Alima left the bathroom light on for her. But not tonight.
Knowing Alima, she was probably trying to create an atmosphere for lovers. If the woman only knew how successful Jamie had been in her seduction—how hopelessly in love she was with Ben—would Alima tell her I told you so? Could be, and Jamie deserved her scorn and much more.
Feeling along the wall, Jamie found the doorknob to her room, turned it and pushed the door open.
A hand grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.
A moist palm clamped over her mouth, inhibiting her respiration.
Blind panic contracted her chest when she was pulled back against the unknown assailant. The stench of cigarettes and sweat seeped into her nostrils, causing her stomach to roil. But the feel of something cold and hard jabbed in her side made her want to collapse from fear.
“Miss Morris, so we finally meet again.”
Jamie tried to scream but all she could manage was a moan. She tried to struggle, which only caused the man’s grip to tighten on her mouth.
“Don’t move, or I will be forced to harm you.”
Jamie froze, her ears ringing, her heart pounding.
His evil chuckle made her quake. “I must say, Payune did not know what he was missing by ending your marriage agreement. He would be pleasantly surprised to know that one so young is such an expert lover.” His demented voice was laced with a heavy European accent. A voice that seemed somewhat familiar to Jamie, but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it.
His whiskey-laden breath fanned the side of her face and she tightly closed her eyes. “I see that the sheikh has fallen for your charms. I am surprised he sent you to your room alone when he could so obviously have had you again. But I am grateful for that fact, since you have something I need.”
Jamie bit back the nausea and wished with all her might she could bite him. Not possible with his hand held so tightly against her mouth.
“I want that wedding dress,” he demanded, venom in his tone.
Why did he want her mother’s dress? Did it have to do with that mysterious something? Obviously, but she had no clue what.
“I will uncover your mouth,” he said, “but should you make the slightest sound other than telling me the whereabouts of the dress, I will kill you.” He forced the gun farther into her ribcage, leaving Jamie no doubt he was serious.
Where was Ben? In his room, she decided, stewing over her refusal to marry him. She’d been such a fool, and her foolishness could very well cost her her life. Maybe even Ben’s life. She prayed he stayed in his room, away from danger. Then she could die knowing he was safe.
What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to die, at least not without a fight. She needed an opportunity, just a small window of time, and then she could act.
“Do you promise not to scream?” he asked. She nodded her agreement. “Good.”
He slowly lowered his hand and turned her to face him. She coughed, gagged, then drew in several ragged breaths. Staring at his shadowy frame, she couldn’t make out his features, but she could tell he wasn’t very big. Maybe an inch or two taller than she. A point in her favor should she decide to make a move.
He fingered a lock of her hair and laughed, sending icy chills of apprehension up her spine like fingers on piano keys. “I am sorry we have no lights so I can see you better, but I’m afraid that is my fault. Although when I watched you and your lover in action, I did see quite well. I truly enjoyed your, what shall I call it? Display of affection?” He touched her face and she cringed. “Had I more time, I might partake of your talents. But I am in a hurry, so perhaps later then?”
“Over my dead body,” Jamie hissed.
He jabbed the gun into her belly, causing her to wince. “That could be arranged, but first the dress. Where is it!”
“In the closet, over there.” She pointed a shaky finger toward the double doors across the room. When the creep turned his head in that direction, Jamie took her chance. She thrust her knee up into his groin with all her might, hitting the bull’s-eye.
Startled, he dropped the gun to grab his crotch. Jamie immediately turned and ran into the solid wall of a chest. This time she did scream.
“I am here, Jamie.”
Ben. Thank God.
Pushing her aside, Ben took the man to the ground in one heavy thud. Jamie’s eyes had adjusted to the limited light, allowing her to look on in terror as Ben struggled with the assailant. Two dark figures rolling on the floor. Where was the gun?
A light flickered behind Jamie, casting frightening shadows on the wall. She turned toward the glow to find Alima standing in the doorway, holding a large candle.
“What is this?” Alima asked, horror in her voice.
“This is Robert Klimt,” Ben growled. “Murderer. Thief.”
When Jamie realized Ben had the intruder pinned to the ground, she let out a breath of relief and moved toward the pair, Alima following close behind. After she grabbed a robe from the chair and slipped it on, she kicked something with her toe and looked down. The gun. Slowly she picked it up and held it trained on Klimt’s leg, the only place not covered by Ben who now straddled him with his hands wrapped around Klimt’s throat. The man’s eyes bulged with panic. Jamie wanted to cheer.
“Bring the candle closer,” Jamie told Alima.
Alima slowly moved forward and in the candle’s glow, Jamie studied Klimt’s small sharp features, the mole near his left brow, and remembered.
“He was on the plane,” Jamie said.
“Yes. He was trying to escape to freedom.” Ben jerked Klimt’s head up. “Where did you hide the diamond?” The fear didn’t lessen in Klimt’s face, yet he didn’t speak.
“Diamond?” Jamie asked. “What diamond?”
“The diamond this animal stole after he killed the club’s bartender, Riley Monroe.” Ben lowered his voice to a menacing tone. “Is that correct, Robert Klimt? You killed a defenseless man after you forced him to take you to the jewels?”
“I admit nothing.”
Ben let Klimt’s head hit the floor with a thunk, but kept his grip around the man’s neck. “You will admit everything.”
The man tried to wrench Ben’s hands away but couldn’t. He made a choking sound. “Again, I ask. Where is the diamond?” Ben commanded.
Jamie worried that Ben might kill Klimt before he had his answer if she didn’t do something to stop him. “I think it has something to do with my mother’s dress,” she said quickly. “Or he thinks it does. He demanded I give it to him.”
Ben loosened his hold on Klimt’s neck. “Is that where we will find the diamond?”
Klimt looked a bit too cocky for someone with hands wrapped around his windpipe. “And what will happen to me if I tell you?”
Ben sneered. “It is what I will do to you if you do not tell me that should concern you.”
“I will be no good to you dead.”
“He’s right, Ben,” Jamie said, grasping for anything to help Ben regain some common sense.
Ben looked at her for a moment before again turning his attention to Klimt. “If I should decide to spare your life, you will be turned over to the Asterland authorities. They will deal with you as they see fit. Or perhaps I will release you to the Americans and let them handle this. First-degree murder in the state of Texas carries with it death by execution.” Ben’s ensuing smile was cynical. “Perhaps that would be best.”
Klimt’s eyes bulged with terror. “No. You cannot do that. I have diplomatic immunity. I am a respected man in my country. I am a—”
“—tays bawáal,” Alima shouted, cutting off Klimt’s protests. When Jamie stared at her, Alima added, “A pissing he-goat.”
An adequate d
escription, Jamie decided.
“Give me the bedsheet,” Ben said.
Alima hurried to the bed, stripped off the sheet, and offered it to Ben. With one hand still clasped around Klimt’s throat, he took the sheet then grasped Klimt’s wrists and dragged him across the floor to the bed. He raised the man’s hands and tied them to the bedpost, leaving him helplessly suspended with his arms over his head like a side of beef.
Ben turned to Jamie. “Give me the gun.”
She’d forgotten she was still holding it. With shaking hands, she complied.
Stepping back, Ben pointed the pistol at Klimt’s head. “Now, tell me everything.”
“If I do cooperate, will you assure me that you will speak to the Asterland authorities and tell them I have aided you in the investigation?”
“Is that in hope they will give you a lighter sentence?” Ben’s laugh was sharp, without humor. “I would rather deal with you myself than risk that you will not be adequately punished for the crimes you have committed. For killing my friend.”
“I will not speak again unless I have your promise.”
Ben rubbed a hand over his shadowed jaw, indecision warring in his expression. “I will see what I can do, but I make no promises where your country is concerned.”
Klimt lowered his head in defeat. “I did kill your Riley Monroe because it was necessary. After he led me to the jewels, I could not risk him revealing my identity. I planned to sell the jewels to fund the revolution.”
“Is Payune connected to this scheme?”
“I act alone for the sake of the revolution.”
Jamie shivered to think her once-intended was somehow involved in all this mess, even though Klimt denied it.
“We recovered all the jewels but the red diamond,” Ben said. “Where is it now?”
“You will find the diamond sewn into the hem of the wedding dress.”
Ben’s jaw tensed, and Jamie sensed he was barely hanging on to his restraint. “You are lying. Miss Morris has told me the dress was not out of her possession.”
Klimt glared at her with hate-filled eyes. “She is mistaken. The dress was taken to the cleaners two days before we were to depart for Asterland. I broke into the shop and put the diamond there myself before she retrieved it.”
Jamie’s mouth gaped when she realized the man was telling the truth. How stupid of her not to remember. “I’m sorry, Ben, I didn’t even think about that. I was only thinking about after the plane crash.”
“It is all right, Jamie,” Ben said in a gentle voice. “It no longer matters.” He pulled her to his side, taking her by surprise. “Did this swine harm you, Jamie? If so, I will kill him now.”
“No!” Jamie couldn’t let Ben kill Klimt no matter what the vile man had done. Ben would then risk going to jail himself. “He didn’t do anything except try to scare me to death.”
“Then I will let him live. For now.” He turned to Alima. “Go and find J.D. He should be on the porch, although I have my doubts since he allowed Klimt access to the house.”
“Your man is on the porch, asleep,” Klimt said.
“I’m right here, you sorry S.O.B.”
Everyone looked toward the door where J.D. now stood holding a flashlight, a small trickle of blood streaming from his forehead. He pointed at Klimt. “This coward ambushed me, knocked me over the head with some kind of pipe. Then he stole my danged gun.”
Ben walked to J.D. and handed him the weapon. “Stay here and make sure he does not move.”
“You got it, boss.” J.D. grabbed the gun and stood over Klimt, his lips curled up into a menacing snarl.
Ben took Jamie by the shoulders and turned her to face him, away from Klimt. “You are safe now.”
Jamie could only nod when she saw the concern in his expression.
Ben walked to the closet and removed the wedding dress. He laid it across the bed carefully. Jamie and Alima gathered round as he examined the hem. With a fingertip, he tore away several threads and reached inside. “It is here.”
Alima lowered the candle and centered it on Ben’s large palm holding a round red jewel sparkling in the flickering light. Jamie had never seen anything quite like it, at least five carats, she assumed. Red in color, it resembled a ruby.
“Who does it belong to?” Jamie asked.
Ben closed his hand over it. “To the town of Royal, its rightful owners.”
“I’ve heard the legend of the jewels,” Jamie said, “but I never believed they really existed.”
“Yes, they do. And you must promise you’ll never tell anyone of their existence. To do so will again bring about more fortune hunters such as this one.” He nodded toward Klimt.
Jamie vowed to carry the secret to her grave. “I promise.”
“Go with Alima now,” he told her. “I will return to you as soon as I make arrangements to have Klimt removed.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead before turning to J.D. “If he should lift a finger, you have my permission to shoot him.”
J.D. laughed. “That’ll be my pleasure, boss.”
Ben took the flashlight from J.D. then headed out the door.
Jamie glared at the man who’d almost killed her twice now, and had the strongest urge to kick him again. But he looked so small and pitiful. Harmless, actually. Still, she would like to vent her frustration somehow. Maybe she should just tickle him under the arms. Death by uncontrollable laughter.
Alima’s hand on her arm prevented her from giving in to the impulse, which was just as well. J.D. might actually shoot him if she made the creep move, and she didn’t want his death on her conscience no matter what he’d put her through.
“Come, child,” Alima said. “We will go to the kitchen. I will prepare you a drink to help you sleep, and you can tell me why this man is hanging from your bed.”
Eight
Ben stood at his front doorway watching until the taillights disappeared from sight. Justin Webb and Matthew Walker had just left with the red diamond—the last of the three stolen jewels—and Robert Klimt. They intended to lock both of them up—Klimt in the Cattleman’s Club basement until they arranged for him to return to Asterland, and the jewel with the other two until they could find another hiding place. Now it was of the utmost importance that they make plans to thwart the impending revolution. But that would come later in the day. At the moment, Ben needed to see about Jamie.
After searching the kitchen and living room, he found her curled up on the small sofa in his bedroom, covered by a silk throw, her eyes closed. Dawn’s light seeped through the curtained window, washing her beautiful face in an ethereal glow. She appeared angelic, at peace. For that Ben was glad.
Deciding not to disturb her, he turned away.
“Ben?”
Her magnetic voice pulled him around to face her again. “I did not mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I’m too afraid to sleep.”
He moved to the sofa and pulled her into his arms. She trembled against him. “It is all right now, Jamie. He is gone. He cannot hurt you anymore. You are safe with me.”
The warmth of her lips against his neck brought his exhausted body to life. Tipping her chin up, he kissed her face, tasted the salt of her tears. She had been so courageous, so strong, but now she wilted like yesterday’s flowers. And he needed her desperately.
Slipping his arms beneath her, he picked her up and took her to his bed, following her down onto the satin sheets. She clung to him and sobbed. He held her, stroked her hair, brushed a kiss over her lips and whispered words of consolation. He knew not what else to do. He wanted to make love to her, but he was afraid. Afraid she would turn him away.
She didn’t. Instead, she drew his head down and kissed him in earnest, clutching at the T-shirt he wore. Filled with impatient need, he sat up and tore the shirt over his head, then shed his jeans while she slipped her gown off and tossed it aside. He came back to her and ran greedy hands over her naked flushed body, taking each curve to memory. She arched
against him when he drew her nipple into his mouth and suckled. She moaned when he slipped his fingertips through the cleft between her thighs. He found her wet and warm, ready for him. Yet he took his time, stroking her slowly to build the tension higher, until he knew she could hold out no longer.
When her breaths became sharp gasps, he joined with her, sinking into her tight sheath. She wrapped her legs about him, drawing him farther into her welcoming heat, and sending her farther into his soul. He wanted to temper his movements, savor the moment, but he could no longer ignore his own body’s demand when she writhed beneath him.
Clinging to his last shred of control, he stopped moving and slipped from her body, determined not to succumb to his release until she had been fulfilled. Jamie gave a little moan of protest, urging a smile from Ben.
He sat up and grasped her waist. “This way will be better for you,” he said.
It didn’t take long for understanding to dawn in her expression when Ben lay back. She moved over him, straddling his body. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his shaft, her face melting into pure pleasure.
Ben steeled against the heady sensations and willed himself to hang on for a little longer. “You are in control, Jamie,” he whispered. “Do with me what you will.”
If he could give her no more, he could give her this.
Ben kept his gaze locked into hers. She was now in complete command of her body and his. He watched her expression change like a chameleon as she found independence in their lovers’ dance. Her face went slack and her eyes drifted shut. Her bottom lip trembled and a long steady moan left her lips. Only then did Ben give in to his own release and let go as never before.
Jamie collapsed against him, her heart drumming at his chest to match the rhythm of his own heart. He held her tightly in fear she might slip away, as if she were a dream of his own making. But she was not a dream. She was real. So very real.
He had never experienced such satisfaction. Such a sense of total completeness. She had crept under his skin, stolen his heart and soul. And as sleep overtook him, he vowed he would never let her go.
