by Robyn Donald
Once safely inside she looked around forcing her turbulent mind away from the physical hunger that clamoured through her. Potent as it was it was less frightening than the deep intense longing she recognised as love.
Yet how could she be so weak? How could she love him after his betrayal? At least now she understood why he'd taken Marya's word over hers. She'd even been aware of the title' although he'd never used it various gossip magazines had referred to it. But she hadn't realized that Illyria meant anything to him because when they'd been together he'd rarely mentioned it.
In the past twenty-four hours she'd seen another dimension to the polished astute tycoon she'd fallen in love with. Beneath the physical magnetism and dominant good looks was someone brought up to respect responsibilities to accept the legends and magic of his countrymen.
So when he'd had to choose between the totally unsuitable woman he'd reluctantly fallen in lust with and the loyal servant who'd protected his family's treasured heirloom during the dark years his decision had probably been inevitable.
Her mouth twisted in a grimace of pain. It should ease some of her humiliation that she now had a better idea of Gabe's motivation. The magnificent Queen's Blood meant much more to him than its monetary value-perhaps even more than its historical importance to his family. There were strong emotional links to the jewels a semi-mystical attachment that easily overrode the reluctant sexual attraction he felt for her.
And the lords of the Wolfs Lair had been bred to be ruthless. So he'd just cut her off after that last searing interview: all she'd had from him was a brief note telling her not to contact him again as though she'd been a servant dismissed for dishonesty.
It had shattered her.
Yet, although she understood him better nothing had changed since she'd arrived at the Wolfs Lair she thought chilled and desperate. Oh they'd made love but it meant little beyond the fact that they couldn't keep their hands off each other.
She'd never be content with anything less than love. And perhaps Gabe had realized that he wouldn't be either' after all the lords of the castle had always married for love. She thought of the charming vaulted arcade a gift to an adored wife.
Although the room was warm she shivered and hugged herself. What had happened had happened' even though her life seemed to be careering out of control it was useless to wish she hadn't made love with him.
And if there was a baby-well she'd deal with that when it ceased being a possibility and became a certainty.
Better to think of what she could do with this room and the two others she'd inspected that day, both clones of hers when it came to meretricious bad taste. Decorating at least she could manage.
She forced herself to imagine the bedroom as it should be-its pine panelling stripped clean of the white paint and restored to a warm gold. Then she'd replace the second-rate furniture with spare appropriate pieces and banish the elaborate crimson drapes around the bed substituting some of the faded elegant hangings she'd seen in the storeroom She sat down at the desk and began to make more notes and sketches for her mood board until the swift tattoo of her heartbeat faded into regularity and she thought she might be able to sleep.
As she headed into the bathroom she wondered if she'd imagined the harsh hunger underlying Gabe's final words. Lucky you he'd said as though his sleep was tormented by dreams.
Her mouth curved cynically. She must have imagined it. After all he could have any woman he wanted and he was utterly convinced that she'd betrayed him' he wouldn't be tossing in his bed because the only person he loved lacked enough trust to believe him! Neither did he have to worry about being pregnant.
Some time during the night she woke with a start her pulses pounding and sweat standing out on her brow.
Wrenching herself upright against the pillows she stared around eyes wide and shocked straining to hear the noise that had woken her-the demanding insistent cry of a baby. Her baby she knew. But the dream faded rapidly as she realized where she was.
After a few silent moments she relaxed and slid back down beneath the duvet. A confused melange of images and noises still jumbled across her brain all faintly sinister. But although she could still feel the weight of the Queen's Blood around her throat she couldn't remember anything else.
And then she heard the snick of the key in the lock. Eyes stretched to their widest she watched the door open and Gabe come swiftly into the room his powerful body outlined against the light in the stone passage outside.
'What's the matter'?' he demanded striding across to the bed.
'Nothing.' He hadn't put the light on but she twitched the sheet up to her throat and lay rigid with apprehension. He hadn't bothered to dress or even pull on a robe and she'd reacted instantly and irresponsibly to the sight of his lean form bronzed and gleaming in the dim light.
‘1 heard you cry out.'
'Through walls as thick as this'?'
He shrugged looking down at her with drawn brows. 'Your windows are open and so are mine ' he said adding ironically, And there's not much competition. Nights here are quiet.'
‘l'd noticed ' she said wearily. ‘l'm sorry I woke you-l'm fine. It was just a nightmare and now it's gone.'
The source was obvious' freed from the strictures of reason her unconscious had transformed her concern about pregnancy into images.
'You were shouting, ‘Get the baby,'' and then you screamed ' he said neutrally.
Great responses She moistened her dry lips before starting again. ‘WeII I don't remember any of it so it can't have been too bad.' Although she tried to banish all defensiveness from her tone she suspected she hadn't entirely succeeded.
‘I have to gel out of here Gabe thought savagely aware of unsubtle signals from his body. He still wanted her even though she was a liar and a thief.
Had she lied about her lack of contraception? He scanned her face all seductive shadows and white skin against hair that tumbled across the pillows. She lay perfectly still beneath the covers her slender body taut as a bow. He forced himself to ignore the familiar ache of desire that knotted his insides.
She hadn't been able to sell the Queen's Blood' had she decided that the prospect of a child would be one way to inveigle herself back into his life? After this morning's stupidity she'd be certain he couldn't resist the potent lure of her sexuality and she must know he'd never turn his back on a child of his.
Not if he was sure it was his he thought coldly, banishing an image of Sara with the little girl in the village, her arms around the child her voice soft and soothing as though wicked iron hooves didn't dance and fret only a few
inches from her head.
And her power extended only over his body' his mind remained his own.
‘Do you want anything'?' he asked.
The silence stretched out driving him towards the edge of sexual recklessness. If he slid in beside her she wouldn't refuse him. Those soft curves that sweet fire and passion would be his. And damn but he wanted them-he wanted her to kiss him to caress him with her soft tentative touches to open herself to him and give him those brief glorious moments of oblivion when he could forget what she was and lose himself in her.
Sweat sprang out on his brow' every muscle in his body contracted. There was nothing civilized about his reaction to Sara' its strength mocked his self-possession and the cold disciplined integrity he valued so highly.
Only with Sara was he as possessive and territorial as a caveman.
He hated the loss of control. It took the sum total of his steely determination to rein in that humiliating hunger and fight back a surge of lust so fierce it was all he could do not to rip back the blankets and take her.
‘No, I don't want anything, thank you,' she said so low he barely heard the words.
‘1'11 see you in the morning, then.'
Sara turned her head into the pillow gritting her teeth against the desire to call him back.
He'd come. Even in the darkness she'd sensed the intensity of his regard. The wild cravi
ng inside her had deepened and grown stronger so that she'd had to clench her hands at her sides to stop herself from holding them out welcoming him into her bed and her body and her heart.
Once the door was safely closed behind him she got up and went into the bathroom pouring herself a glass of water. She drank it down greedily then turned on the shower shuddering as the cold water hit her heated supersensitive skin.
A rough towelling banished all signs of arousal except for her slowly shouldering inner core. No more sleep tonight she thought and slipped into a robe before walking across to the nearest window. She leaned out and breathed in the cool fresh air.
Beneath the wall’ the valley spread out in a patchwork of silver and black bewitched into glamour by the magic of the moon and so beautiful it intensified her pagan unslaked craving for the man who lay in his dark room a few feet away through the thick stone walla.
Far to the north moonlight glinted on snow and her heart twisted and tears stung her throat and eyes.
She drew back from the windows with their six-sided panes of glass each one delivering a slightly different view of the valley and went across to the desk. Switching on the lamp she sat down and began to read her notes.
The loud whump-whump-whump of a helicopter's rotors woke her from sleep. She lay stupidly in the bed trying to remember where she was and what she was doing.
Last night she thought dimly remembering the hours spent at her desk before she'd crawled back into bed by the light of a setting moon. She'd dropped off to sleep as though she'd been hit on the head.
Her eyes flew open only to blink against the bright day outside. She leapt out of bed to run across the room and crane out of the window. The helicopter had landed on the other side of the castle' she turned back into the room, snatching up her robe when a knock sounded on the door.
The door opened before she'd shrugged into it. Flushing she glanced at Gabe's stony face then hauled the lapels over her scanty chemise and briefs.
With no sign of emotion Gabe said ‘l'm sorry, but I've been called away. I should be back in a few days.'
She stared at him. ‘1 see.'
‘Do you'?' His smile was tight and humourless. ‘I suspect you do.'
And he crossed the room in a couple of long strides pulled her into his arms and kissed her as though he were one of his forefathers setting out to war. Perhaps he was' Sara knew enough to understand that although his life wasn't in danger every time he made a decision he risked the well-being and the future of not only himself but thousands of people who depended on his icy intelligence and his honesty to keep their jobs safe. And that didn't include the millions of people who trusted him with their money.
The responsibility was just as great as it had been for those forebears of his who'd ridden out of the Wolfs Lair into battle to protect their people and their country.
So she kissed him back with passionate fervour lifting herself on tiptoe to run her fingers through his hair giving him her mouth freely while he stamped his bold possession on her lips and her heart.
Too soon he lifted his head and released her his narrowed eyes molten in the hard arrogant planes of his face.
'Don't have any more nightmares ' he said roughly that uncompromising air of power and authority very pronounced.
Her smile was touched with sadness. 'Not even you can forbid them.'
Some reckless emotion glinted like blue fire in his eyes.
'Want to bet'?' he drawled. 'Remind me of that when I come back.'
Eyes enormous in her white face Sara watched him go then stood at her window to watch the chopper rise from behind the castle and lift into the sky before turning to head over the mountains. She followed it with her eyes until it was a mere point in the brilliant blue sky then blinked several times as the bright morning sky brought moisture to her eyes.
Clearly something had gone wrong somewhere in his vast business empire.
Emptily she dressed and drifted across to the desk looking at the work she'd done the previous night.
It was rough but good-some of the best she'd done. So it was truly ironic that Gabe wasn't going to accept anything from her. Nevertheless he'd commissioned a plan so that was what he'd get.
A knock on the door heralded a breakfast tray. Sara thanked the young maid who brought it in and set it on the bedside table. Alone again she felt her stomach clench. How on earth was she going to get rid of a rack of toast a bowl of fruit and another of creamy yoghurt? She didn't want to upset whoever had gone to such trouble.
Amongst the delicious food stood a small silver vase with a rosebud softly crimson in it. Her eyes filled with
tears. It was a charming thought but if only Gabe had picked it for her. . .
CHAPTER NINE
FROM the depths of an armchair Sara looked up from the rough plans she was checking and smiled. Across the bedroom the young maid wielded a cloth and a large pot of honey-scented beeswax humming as she polished a chest that had just arrived up from one of the storerooms courtesy of two strong men. Once the walla were stripped back to their original state the simple wooden piece would settle into the room as if it had been made for it-as, perhaps, it had.
'Thank you ' Sara said in Illyrian-one of the phrases she'd learned during the past four days.
The maid gave a shy smile but it was clear she wanted Sara out of the bedroom while she went about her usual chores. Picking up her notepad and pen Sara left her to it and headed for the vaulted arcade.
But once there she dropped pad and pen onto a wooden settle and leaned on the balustrade soaking in the glory of a day as crisp and golden as an apple in the sun.
Gabe hadn't contacted her. Not that she'd expected him to so why did it hurt? Perhaps he'd realized how outrageous he'd been in kidnapping her and planned to stay away until she left.
It would be for the best she told herself sturdily, fighting the deep-seated ache inside her with a flash of bitterness.
Four days ago she'd arrived here filled with hope that this would be the career advance she so fiercely wanted. Her mouth tightened and she stared unseeingly at a great pot of scarlet geraniums. She should be delighted at the prospect of not seeing Gabe again.
However, he clearly didn't intend her to leave without permission' the first night he'd been away she'd tried her door, only to find it locked. Transient colour stung her cheeks' no doubt the butler wondered why it was his job to lock his master's lover in at night.
No, she thought lifting her face to the sun it wouldn't be Webster. Gabe would have chosen Marya to be her gaoler.
A decision that had been slowly forming in her mind crystallized. Pregnant or not, she'd go back to Fala'isi. In the outside world Gabe's power extended too far but on the island she'd be safe. The Chapman family who lived there were her friends and they had the power to keep anyone off Fala'isi. Even world-famous billionaires she thought with painful irony.
But before she left Illyria she'd make another appeal to Marya to give Gabe back the rubies. And then she'd leave everything behind her forge a new life in the island tourist industry and eventually forget about Gabe.
Another lie. Her throat tightened. He was engraved on her heart on her mind so much a part of her that the cruellest betrayal and a year apart hadn't been enough to protect her from more heartache. She'd remember everything from the flowers she'd picked yesterday to the innermost depths of the storerooms she'd plundered.
And Gabe. . . .
In uncanny echoing of her thoughts he said from behind her ‘1 hear you've been turning the place upside down.'
Stunned yet somehow not surprised she turned slowly. He was standing in the doorway of his office tall and dominating and utterly beloved. His enigmatic face was shadowed by the vaulted ceiling whereas the sun beat down on her head and shoulders revealing every expression. He looked tired she thought with a clutch of apprehension as though the business trip had exhausted his splendid vitality.
‘1 wanted to show you how the castle could be returne
d to honesty ' she said hearing the lilt in her voice with a shocked surprise.
His brows rose. 'Honesty'?' A subtle taunt infused his voice. Sara could have kicked herself for using that particular word but she insisted stoutly,
'The way it is now-apart from the dining room parlour and study-is horribly glaringly dishonest. As well as being a murderer and a tyrant your cousin had no taste and no understanding. This is a castle not a chateau and the furniture and decor should reflect that.'
She stopped feeling exposed.
‘Go on ' he said noncommittally a frown drawing his black brows together.
‘so to give you an idea of what should be done I've moved the junk out of my room and put in pieces I found in the storerooms ' she said curtly.
‘By the way a man-one of the outlying farmers I think-arrived yesterday with a magnificent French armoire. He said it belonged to you and he'd heard through the grapevine that you wanted all the furniture back. How did he get it? Marya didn't explain.'
