She paused a moment. Would she risk his life because she was uncomfortable? She couldn’t envision this man barging through a closed door to get to her, not after he’d exhibited such masterful control of himself when he’d held still during their first kiss. Another man might have tried to go for more, but Alex hadn’t pushed. Still, when she took off her clothes, she would feel safer with more space between them. “Would you be insulted if I asked you to wait downstairs?”
“I could use a drink, and I think the bar had a half bottle of bourbon. Would you like a… What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
Something about his worried gaze made her explain. “My brother used to drink before he…”
“Hit you?”
She nodded, unable to deny that the moment Alex had mentioned drinking bourbon, her stomach burned with acid. Guilt also stabbed her. First, she’d made him listen to her sad history, then she kicked him back downstairs in his wet clothes, and now she didn’t want him to drink.
“It’s okay,” he said. “A soda might be better to quench my parched throat.”
“Thank you.” He really could act like a prince when it suited him. He hadn’t complained, had simply offered to alter his behavior to set her mind at ease.
His voice softened. “You needn’t thank me for simple courtesy.”
“Where I come from, good manners are as rare as a sober man on payday. I may have left my old neighborhood, but some habits are difficult to lose, others are hard to change.”
“Like never touching and kissing?”
Now why did he have to go getting personal again?
He leaned back against the balcony, the picture of gallantry, except for the gleaming light in his eyes that told her he was about to tease her. “Was kissing me so terrible?”
“I haven’t thought about it much,” she lied.
“Maybe you should kiss me again.”
“Why?”
He chuckled. “I don’t believe a woman has ever asked me that question. I’ll have to think about it, but then maybe you should think about kissing me again, too.”
His light tone did wonders in helping her stomach settle down. She thought he would stay and tease her some more, but he started to whistle a happy tune and headed down the stairs, his footsteps light, his movements graceful.
She should feel relieved. He’d gone downstairs. Told her he wouldn’t drink alcohol.
She couldn’t believe that his disappearance had left her slightly off kilter. Almost disappointed.
No, she had to be mistaken. She certainly couldn’t be disappointed.
Taylor shut the bedroom door behind Alex to discover that the knob didn’t have a lock. Neither did the one in the bathroom.
Chapter Seven
Vashmira
At the hum of his private fax, King Nicholas rolled out of the royal bed, careful not to disturb his bride. Vashmira’s new queen still slept, weary from her new duties, especially from her tireless quest to help his sister convince the cabinet to enact laws on women’s rights. Proud of both women, he had no doubt they would succeed, if not this year, then next. His concern ran in a different direction. The hours had dragged by in slow motion as he’d awaited word of Alex’s fate.
Nicholas picked up a stiffly worded fax from Hunter, removed the paper key Hunter had given him and placed it on top of the innocuous letter.
Alex alive and well. Posing as embassy handyman married to P.I./gardener.
Yes! Alex had survived. Tremendous relief washed over Nicholas, and he sank to the window seat, the message still in hand. The good news seemed to drain the last of his strength, leaving a weakness in his knees and a thudding gladness in his heart.
Nicholas and his brother and sister had always been close. During the year since their father’s assassination, they’d grown closer. Many royal watchers often remarked on the differences between the two brothers, contrasting Nicholas’s conscientiousness with Alexander’s playfulness, but no one knew better than Nicholas how intelligent a mind was hidden behind Alex’s playboy image. His brother, the equal of any professional commentator, could analyze Vashmiran politics with the keen understanding that Nicholas appreciated. And he was especially adept at figuring out puzzles. Nicholas was counting on his brother to help solve the problems facing them now.
Ericka, his new bride, awakened sleepy-eyed and came to him. “Good news?”
“The best. My brother’s alive.”
She sat next to him on the window seat and leaned into his chest. “I’m so glad. We should let your sister know the news.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Between worrying over Alex and Hunter, she’s not sleeping much. I doubt we’ll be waking her.” Ericka hugged him, then rose to her feet, slipped on a robe and phoned Tashya’s room, taking it upon herself to make the call.
“Be very discreet. The phone lines may still be tapped,” Nicholas warned her. They needed to find the traitor soon. Living under this stress, in constant danger, had them all on edge. Worse, he needed to focus on the economy, on health care and on establishing a lasting peace with his neighbors—difficult to accomplish under the best conditions, almost impossible when under attack from someone within his own country.
Ericka must have been correct. Tashya arrived wide-awake in less than five minutes. Circles under her eyes revealed her lack of sleep. The moment she shut the door, the two women hugged, and Ericka told her that Alex was okay.
Tashya’s eyes teared with happiness. “Thank you for telling me.”
“There’s more you might find of interest.” Nicholas stood from his window seat, pleased the two women had become friends and unable to contain his amusement at the news he was about to impart. “Our brother is posing as the embassy handyman.”
“A handyman?” Tashya’s jaw dropped, and she used her hand to cover her open mouth. “Our Alex?”
Nicholas couldn’t quite picture his elegant brother wearing anything but hand-tailored designer clothes, either. But he’d saved the most interesting part of Hunter’s message for last. “Alexander’s pretending to be married to a private investigator who’s now pretending to be the embassy gardener.”
“Oh, my.” Ericka raised an eyebrow.
Tashya groaned. “Leave it to Alex to hide undercover with a woman. What did Hunter say about her?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” From his sister’s tone, Nicholas judged that Hunter was going to have his hands full when he returned home. Then Tashya cocked her head and eyed Nicholas. “You have a way to contact my fiancé, don’t you?”
Nicholas knew his sister’s temper well and recognized her building anger. Obviously, Hunter hadn’t given her a way to reach him and that Nicholas could, infuriated her. He attempted to mollify her. “For safety’s sake, we have minimal communication. You don’t want to put Hunter at risk, do you?”
Tashya didn’t respond—unless he counted her fierce and possessive glare. Wisely, Ericka had learned not to take sides in these frequent family disputes. But Tashya only held back when it suited her. She scowled at Nicholas’s fax machine. “You tell Hunter we want more information about the woman.”
Nicholas might be king, but he didn’t argue with Tashya. He was curious himself. Why had Alex sought the help of a female private investigator? Alex had never taken the threat to himself seriously. And knowing his brother, he had more than business in mind. Nicholas only hoped that Alex’s attempt to combine business and pleasure didn’t put his life in even greater jeopardy.
Washington, D.C.
HALF A WORLD AWAY, Alex paced in his wet overalls, the woman upstairs the primary focus of his thoughts. He didn’t like the way he reacted to her big innocent eyes or the way he wanted to provide her with a feeling of safety more than he wanted to seduce her. He wasn’t one of those men who felt inclined to protect women. In fact, he didn’t believe women often needed saving. They tended to be strong creatures, much
stronger than most men seemed to give them credit for.
Alex’s usual pattern was to enjoy the chase, the conquest and then move on. Something had to be wrong with him because he felt differently about Taylor. When he should be moving forward, he found himself giving her additional room.
Sure, she’d had a rough life, but several women of his acquaintance had had equally or more difficult lives. However, those women had wanted him to save them. Taylor asked nothing for herself. He was sure she’d prefer him to stay away.
Her inner strength guided her, and he admired her independence, yet at the same time, he thought it might be nice if just once she needed him, leaned on him. Hell, at best, she had him confused and baffled by his own behavior.
If he held to pattern, he supposed the sooner he took her to bed, the sooner he would lose interest. Normally, he would be sharing that shower with his partner instead of walking around alone in wet clothing. Was that why he kept backing off? Maybe he didn’t want to make love to her for fear of losing interest and then having to pretend that he still wanted her because they must continue working together. That would be a logical cause for his skittish behavior. This time he couldn’t so easily move on.
If he’d had the luxury of a few drinks, he might have convinced himself of the validity of this argument. However, he was quite sober.
Not given much to self-analysis, Alex headed up the stairs when the pipes stopped singing, a sure signal that Taylor was finished and was probably dressing. He tried not to think about her night attire and hoped for flannel pajamas. Because after what she’d told him about her history, he’d feel warped for even attempting a seduction.
However, he saw absolutely nothing wrong with pushing her out of her comfort zone.
TAYLOR PREFERRED to avoid her issues about the male species. If possible, she would have expressly avoided facing up to her fears and insecurities during a case. But she’d accepted this case and now she found that none of the rooms besides the foyer and the master bedroom had furniture, as if someone had furnished two rooms and then run out of funds. She couldn’t even relegate Alex to the proverbial too short sofa since there wasn’t one.
During her shower she had tried not to think about the sleeping arrangements, or the heat in Alex’s eyes, or the fact that she no longer found those hot glances quite so disturbing. She reminded herself that a man such as him was undoubtedly accustomed to having his every need catered to by willing women. Since she was currently the only female available, she supposed he might look to her.
Too damn bad. For him.
Taylor wouldn’t be used by any man. Not ever again. She didn’t care if the man happened to be the prince of Vashmira. She didn’t care if Alexander was the sexiest man on the planet. She had flat-out made up her mind to protect her own interests. And those interests were to solve this case quickly, to collect her triple-net fee and to move on.
Except there was just the one bed.
Sleeping on the floor wasn’t a good option. A restless night tossing on a hard floor when she needed to be alert tomorrow was not a good solution. And she could hardly ask His Royal Highness to sleep on the bare floor, either.
She towel-dried her hair and changed into her nightgown. She hadn’t made up her mind what to do when she heard Alex’s footsteps on the stairs. Although the gown covered her, she dived under the sheet and blanket, then scooted all the way to one side of the bed.
Before Alex knocked she called, “Come on in. The shower’s all yours.”
As he opened the bedroom door she clicked off the light. Since she’d left the bathroom door ajar and the light over the sink on, she could see Alex glance from the empty bathroom to the bed, his expression unreadable.
“I left you some hot water,” she told him, hoping her voice sounded casual but fearing it might sound as tight as her ragged nerves.
“Hot water for tea?”
She restrained a nervous giggle. He’d probably never stayed anywhere less comfy than a five-star hotel. “Water tanks feed the shower. Sometimes the hot runs out.”
“So you left me something hot?”
She hated it when he teased her and she had no snappy comeback. “I have no idea how many gallons the water tank holds.”
Well, now, that was clever, she thought sarcastically.
“If we’re going to share that bed, a cold shower might be more appropriate.”
He was teasing her again. She could tell by his light and breezy tone. She wished she had a suitably smart rejoinder that would reveal she intended to be an adult about the sleeping situation, but her tongue seemed molded to the roof of her mouth.
He plucked several items of clothing out from their purchases at the consignment store. “We didn’t buy me any pajamas.”
“Sorry.”
“I usually sleep in the nude.”
Damn him. She gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. Of course Mr. Playboy slept in the nude. But he wouldn’t dare try that with her, would he? She didn’t say a word. Didn’t dare breathe. She simply reached under her pillow and placed her hand on her gun. She could see the headlines now: Frigid P.I. Shoots The Prince Of Vashmira’s Royal Jewels. She had to bite down hard on her tongue to suppress another hysterical giggle.
Alex seemed totally unaware of her ragged nerves. He didn’t seem to mind having a one-way conversation with himself, either. “However since we did buy one extra set of boxers, I suppose those will do.”
She gasped in some air, realizing she needed to keep breathing when he teased her. Slowly she unclenched her fingers from around her gun, pried loose the weapon from her palm and told herself the man was teasing. Just teasing. She wouldn’t overreact.
Except her stomach was doing backflips and her thoughts kept galloping out of control. As he showered, she told herself repeatedly that she could handle this case, but it didn’t keep her mind from envisioning Alex, not ten feet away, naked, in a bathroom that they would share for the next week. Or thinking that after he finished, he would climb into this bed. With her.
Again, she reminded herself to breathe.
He took a long shower, and he whistled through most of it. She turned onto her side, facing away from him, and wondered if she could fool him into believing she’d fallen asleep. The moment he opened the bathroom door, she turned toward him, her hand slipping under her pillow. If there was danger coming, she intended to face it head-on.
His bare feet padded toward the bed and the covers rustled as he pulled them back. The entire mattress bounced as he rolled into bed. He fluffed the pillow behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking.”
Really? Was now the moment when he’d decide they should make love? She had no doubt he’d have some very creative reason for her to consider.
“How good are you with computers?”
Computers? She’d been way off base. He hadn’t been in that shower thinking up ways to convince her to have sex with him. He’d been thinking about the case, something she hadn’t been doing enough of.
“Can you be a little more specific?” she asked.
“Hacking into the embassy—”
“Is way beyond my skills.”
“But once we are inside the building, we have already bypassed the toughest security.”
She frowned in the darkness. Had he deliberately turned the talk to the case to distract her from the fact that they were sharing the bed? If so, his tactic was working. Her stomach felt almost normal and Alex was lying shirtless less than two feet away. If she reached out her hand, she might brush against his bare side, so she made sure not to move even an inch in his direction.
She forced her thoughts back to the conversation. “Whose computer system do you want to hack into?”
“Anton’s, Vladimir’s and Ira’s.”
“You want to see what your secretary of state, your foremost military leader and your security chief are up to?” She scratched her head. “I might get into their systems, but Ira will probably know I was there. Or
that someone was there,” she amended.
“He wouldn’t know it was us?”
“There are a handful of ways he might catch us.”
“How?”
“With cameras hidden inside his office. Or, he could trace the prints I left on his keyboard, although I could wear gloves or wipe the keys clean. But he could simply walk in and catch us in his office. Unless…”
“What?”
“If the computers are on a network, I could send him an attachment to open that would give me access to his operating system.”
“Huh?”
“I could override his password and get into his files undetected,” she told him.
“What’s the downside?”
“It’s illegal.”
“Even if we don’t steal anything or do any damage?”
“I’m a private investigator, not an attorney. I try to obtain my evidence by legal means.”
“You never go outside the law?”
“Do you?”
“In Vashmira, my family makes the law. The embassy is considered a tiny extension of home. We needn’t worry.”
“Unless he catches us and shoots us on the spot. Afterward he could claim he’d made a terrible mistake. With your disguise, he simply hadn’t recognized you as the prince and everyone would believe him if he claimed he thought we were burglars.”
“It’s a chance we have to take.”
TAYLOR APPEARED to relax as Alex spoke to her about the case. He risked moving his hand, deliberately allowing his knuckles to brush against her hip. Her response, an immediate jerk backward, had her scooting back so far that she almost fell off the bed.
“Sorry.” He turned to look at her. “You aren’t going to scream every time I turn over, are you?”
“I didn’t scream,” she replied tightly. “Are you going to install secret cameras for Anton and Ira?”
He allowed her to change the subject without comment. But he moved his foot, letting his toes skim her ankle. Again, she pulled back, but this time her reaction was calmer, and he took satisfaction that she’d lost a little of her wariness.
Royal Pursuit Page 9
