The door was opening!
The turning of the knob was so quiet, she wouldn’t have been able to detect it if her senses hadn’t been finely tuned by the adrenaline flowing through her. The muscles in her stomach tautened painfully with fear and anticipation as she silently rose to her feet. It had been a long time. She had forgotten how frightening this moment before the final commitment could be. Her hands nervously clutched the braided cord she had taken from the silk drapes at the window, as she moved to a position behind the door when it began slowly to swing open.
Her heart was beating terribly hard. Could he hear it? Oh, Lord, what a crazy thing to wonder at a time like this. The weirdest thoughts always occurred to her when she—
He was in the room, a small, dark shadow only a few feet away, his eyes on the lump beneath the silken coverlet of the bed. Only one man. Evidently Naldona had thought a single individual sufficient to murder a helpless, sleeping woman, she thought grimly.
Something was gleaming in his hand. A knife. She had always hated the idea of a knife wound, the thin, cold blade piercing her flesh. He was hesitating. There was always a final hesitation before commitment, and evidently her assassin hadn’t experienced it before he opened the door. She waited. His reaction would be slower once his mind was settled on his objective. He took a step forward. Now!
The braided cord slipped around his throat as she leaped forward. She used all her strength to tighten the cord, and heard a low gurgle as the man’s breathing was stopped. His arms flailing wildly, his hands tore futilely at the cord. Oh, Lord, the hand holding the knife was rising to his throat. One slice of the cord and he’d be free! Her knee quickly buried itself in the middle of his spine as she jerked him backward. She had to end it swiftly. She held the cord taut with one hand and reached for the vase she had set on the edge of the chest by the door. The vase crashed down on the dark head. Shards of pottery flew in all directions, and the man gave a low groan. His knees buckled as he lost consciousness. She released the cord while he fell to the floor.
Alessandra stepped back, her breath coming in little gasps. It was over. She felt her muscles go limp with relief and sudden weakness. She hadn’t realized just how frightened she’d been, until it—
“Very good.”
She whirled to face the man lounging casually in the doorway.
“Easy.” Karpathan held up his hands. “I’m no threat, at the moment.” She saw the flash of his teeth in the shadowy darkness of his face. “Actually, after witnessing how efficiently you downed our friend, here, I’m not so sure you couldn’t have handled me equally well.”
“What are you doing here?” Adrenaline was surging through her veins from the shock he had given her, but she forced herself to appear calm. “You seem to wander over the palace at will. You’d think Naldona had handed you a master key.”
“Knowledge is always a key. Haven’t you found that to be true?” His gaze flickered to the lump beneath the covers. “I take it that’s a decoy beneath the covers, and not Bruner?”
She nodded curtly.
“I didn’t think you’d risk having anything happen to him. Did he complain when you ousted him from your bed?” He turned on a small lamp. Smiling faintly, he took a step forward and knelt beside the unconscious man. He lifted the man’s eyelid. “I assure you I would have done considerably more than complain. I would have made it totally impossible. How long has it been since you’ve had a lover under sixty?”
Bewildered, she stared at him. The leashed violence beneath his words caught her off guard. He seemed more concerned with her sexual habits than with the condition of the unconscious man he was examining with such cool detachment.
“That’s none of your business, is it?”
“Isn’t it?” He released the man’s eyelid. “You’re quite a lethal lady. I wasn’t sure you hadn’t eliminated him permanently.”
“I’m not as cold-blooded as you. I was only defending myself.” She watched Sander take the braided cord and swiftly tied the man’s hands behind his back. “But this should allay any apprehension you might have had about my defending myself. You can leave me to my own devices with a clear conscience. Day after tomorrow I’ll be out of Tamrovia and you can go back to your little gam—” She broke off as she caught his menacing gaze. She shrugged, and said instead, “Your revolution.”
“Naldona’s goons won’t be taken off guard again. The danger hasn’t lessened because you’ve won the first round.” He sat back on his heels. “Look, promise me you’ll leave before dawn this morning and I’ll remove myself from the scene. Fontaine can provide enough security for that length of time. I doubt if there’ll be another attempt on you before then.”
She hesitated and then slowly shook her head. “It’s too soon. I have something very important to do before I leave Belajo.”
His gaze became speculative. “I suppose you wouldn’t care to tell me what that ‘something’ is?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t think so. I have an idea you’re a multidimensional woman, Alessandra.” His gaze held the faintest touch of mischief as it rested on the full thrust of her breasts beneath the white chiffon of her gown. “And I’m looking forward to familiarizing myself with every aspect of those dimensions.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed pistol and pointed it at her. “I tried to avoid this. You’re an exceptionally determined woman. It’s a quality I admire, but it does get in the way.”
She went very still. “Choices again, Karpathan?”
“Not such a traumatic one this time. The gun is equipped with a silencer, and all I have to do is inflict a slight wound to encourage your cooperation.”
“Cooperation?”
He nodded. “First you’re going to write a note to Bruner explaining the situation and then you’re going to accompany me out of the palace and eventually out of Belajo.” His expression hardened. “I told you I couldn’t allow you to have your own way in this. There’s too much at stake.”
“You could be bluffing.”
He smiled mirthlessly. “Do you think I am?”
No. She didn’t think so. She doubted if Karpathan ever made a threat he wasn’t prepared to back up with action. “It won’t do you any good. I’m not going to submit meekly, you know. I’ll escape. You’re not going to get away with this, Karpathan.”
“Taking into consideration your rather unique personality, you’re probably right.” His smile was self-mocking. “I may have bitten off more than I can chew.”
“You’re damn right you have.”
“Still, it may give me the time I need.” He made a motion with the gun. “We’ll be traveling through rough country. Your gown is lovely, but not exactly appropriate. Change your clothes.”
Her eyes widened. “In front of you?”
“I’m hardly going to turn my back. I’ve seen how efficient you can be in a rear attack.” He rose to his feet and stood with easy grace. “I realize you’re not experienced with younger men, but I assure you we don’t go mad with lust at the sight of a naked woman.”
He noted her expression of smoldering resentment again. Odd, he thought.
“I didn’t think you would,” she said acidly. “I’m sure I’ve nothing new to show you. I was just surprised.” She turned and walked to the antique armoire across the room. “Enjoy yourself, Karpathan.”
He lifted a brow. “Thank you. I intend to.” He dropped into the chair beside the bed. “Terrorizing young women into impromptu stripteases is what this revolution is all about. I can’t tell you how I enjoy this aspect of my ‘game,’ Alessandra.”
She had clearly struck a nerve by using that term to describe his cause. He wasn’t even bothering to disguise the bitterness in his tone. Good. Perhaps if he found her presence abrasive enough he’d be willing to release her. She quickly pulled out a pair of jeans and a tailored shirt from the armoire. “No striptease. I’m hardly the type. You’ll have to be satisfied with speed.”
<
br /> Satisfied. There was nothing in the least satisfied about the way he was feeling at the moment, Sandor thought. He tried to keep his expression inscrutable as he watched her pull the chiffon gown over her head and toss it on the bed. Dear heaven, she had wonderful skin. The lush ripeness of it glowed in the lamplight, and his palms ached to touch her. Hell, that wasn’t the only part of his anatomy aching. He unconsciously moistened his lips as his eyes fixed on her high, full breasts, spilling out of the half bra. With an effort he pulled his gaze away, and found it wandering down to her flat stomach, girdled by a lacy garter belt. “Why do you wear one of those?” he asked suddenly. He nodded to the garters she was unfastening. “You impress me as a no-nonsense woman. I would have thought you’d have preferred pantyhose.”
She could feel the color rise to her cheeks as she lowered her lashes to veil her eyes. “I like the feeling of freedom it gives me,” she said curtly. “I hate to feel confined. Not that it’s any of your—”
“Business,” he finished for her. “I appear to be trespassing again. Sorry. I was just curious.” He was also curious about the blush that had briefly touched her cheeks. For a moment Alessandra’s bold confidence had vanished and she’d reminded him of an uncertain young girl. His eyes were suddenly dancing with mischief. “I thoroughly approve, by the way. There’s nothing more alluring.” His gaze traveled down her long, silken legs. He repeated softly, “Absolutely nothing.” He looked up and caught another glimpse of wild rose color on her cheeks.
Her brow knitted in a scowl, and he heard her mutter something definitely suspect beneath her breath. He smothered a smile as he felt a sudden surge of tenderness. The fierce tigress looked more like a cross little girl as she yanked down her stockings and tossed them on the bed with the gown.
She pulled on her jeans and a peach-colored blouse with swift, jerky movements. She closed the first three buttons of the blouse and stuffed the tails carelessly into the waistband of her jeans. Then she thrust her bare feet into white tennis shoes.
Sandor shook his head. “Socks.”
She looked up. “What?”
“Put on thick socks. We have a good deal of walking to do once we reach the hills, and you might as well be comfortable.”
“Walking?” She repeated the word with horror. She drew herself up to her full, majestic height. “I do not walk, Karpathan. Try to force me and you’ll find yourself carrying me.” Her eyes narrowed to gleaming slits. “And I’m no feather.”
“We’ll see,” he said. “Socks.”
Her glance should have shriveled him on the spot. Instead it only provoked an annoyingly enigmatic smile. She turned and went over to the chest and took out a pair of white socks. “Is that all?”
He shook his head. “Your passport and an extra set of clothes.” He stood up and strolled over to the armoire. He pulled out a small canvas overnight case and threw it on the bed. “Use this to pack them in. I’ll get Jannot to find you something more portable when we get to the café.”
“I won’t need them. I told you I won’t let you hold me. When I leave the country it will be my choice. You should understand that, Karpathan. You’re very high on choices.”
“Pack it anyway,” he said, and smiled amicably. He motioned with the gun. “To please me.” He watched quietly as she packed the items he’d designated. “Thank you. Now write the note.”
She sat down at the vanity and scrawled a few lines on a piece of notepaper. She stood up and handed him the note. “Satisfied?”
He scanned it quickly. “Very reassuring. You obviously didn’t want to worry the old boy. Now I think we’d better leave.” He glanced at the still-unconscious figure of her attacker. “You must have given him quite a wallop. He’s still out.”
“I’ll be glad to demonstrate.” She strode toward the door. “Coming?”
His lips twitched with amusement. The lady knew all the psychological ploys needed to take command of a situation. He was now put in the position of having to hurry to keep up with his captive. “I’m right behind you,” he said dryly, “which I’m sure fills you with the greatest pleasure.” He caught up with her in the middle of the sitting room as she was heading for the door leading to the hall. He put his hand on her arm. “No, not that way.” He nodded to the solid wall of built-in bookshelves across the room. “There. Wait here while I slip this note under Bruner’s door.”
That took less than a minute, and then he was striding quickly toward the wall he’d indicated. Alessandra frowned in puzzlement as she slowly followed him across the room and watched as he twisted one of the candelabra on the wall by the bookshelves. The entire wall swiveled open, revealing a dark, narrow opening. “A secret passage?”
“After you.” He inclined his head mockingly and stood aside for her to precede him. “It was a fantastic piece of luck you were quartered in Kira’s room. I wasn’t looking forward to negotiating those corridors and then possibly finding Naldona had set up his quarters here.”
“Kira?” She cast him a startled glance. “This was Kira Rubinoff’s suite? But then, how did you know about the secret pass—” She broke off. She had seen photographs of the former Princess Kira Rubinoff, who was now the wife of billionaire Zack Damon. Sandor Karpathan possessed more sexual magnetism than any man she had ever met. It was fairly obvious why two such attractive individuals would have been drawn to each other. “Never mind. It’s none of my affair.”
“You’re quite right, and it wasn’t mine either.” He added emphatically, “Kira is my cousin and my very good friend. When you leave Tamrovia I’ll be very displeased if you spread unpleasant gossip regarding this particular entrance to her suite. So displeased, I might decide to follow you and make my displeasure known.”
“Really?” For a moment she was tempted to use the weapon he had put in her hands. Then she shrugged and preceded him into the passageway. “Don’t worry, Karpathan, I don’t play that way. My fight is with you, not with some poor, gullible woman you lured into your bed.”
He suddenly chuckled. “Her husband would be very amused to hear your description of Kira.” He twisted a sconce on the stone wall of the passage and the wall swung shut, leaving them in darkness. “No one lures Kira anywhere. She’s almost as determined as you.”
She was beginning to believe Karpathan could lure any woman into any indiscretion. She was experiencing a wildly sensual response to him herself, and they had been in a constant state of antagonism since the moment they had first met. Even now, in the darkness, she was conscious of the heat emanating from his lean, hard body, and his clean, woodsy scent seemed to be all around her. Though they were standing at least a foot apart, she felt as if he were touching her. The sensation was so strong, she felt a frisson of panic run through her. “It’s dark.” Her voice sounded breathless, and she steadied it with an effort. “Are we going to stand here all night?”
He was silent a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh. “No.”
She detected a movement beside her, and then the slender beam of a penlight pierced the darkness. His expression was grim, and his eyes … She looked away hurriedly. She didn’t want to know what his eyes were saying. It was too close to what she was feeling. She moistened her lower lip with her tongue. “That’s better.”
“Is it? I think it’s getting worse all the time.” He pulled his gaze away and took her elbow. “Come on, there’s a flight of stairs just ahead. Then the passage winds past the ballroom and the dungeons and exits in a cave in the woods across from the front gate.” He thrust the pistol into his pocket. “My men are waiting there with a car to take us to Jannot’s café.”
He had mentioned that name before. “Who is this Jannot?”
“Danilo Jannot, head of the underground resistance forces. He’s a good man.” His hand on her arm was warm and disturbing. “He owns a small café on the outskirts of the city. His network has managed to free a hell of a lot of people from Naldona’s prisons.” He glanced down at her with a sardonic smile. “H
e plays our ‘game’ exceptionally well. With luck he might even be able to get us through the city gates without being shot by the perimeter guards.”
“It’s not too late. You could still let me go. I promise I’ll be nothing but trouble for you.” She was experiencing a spiraling sense of panic again. She didn’t want to go with him. For the first time in years, her emotions were in a state of chaos. She thought she had gotten to a point where she couldn’t be reached, where she was totally in control. Yet Karpathan had managed to topple her defenses with no effort at all. Sex. It had to be only a powerful physical attraction. She grasped and held on tight to the thought. She repeated urgently, “It’s not too late.”
She was wrong. Sandor had a gut feeling it was very much too late. In the short time he’d been with Alessandra Ballard, she had managed to arouse lust, anger, amusement, and a fierce sense of his need to protect her. He wasn’t sure if he would have let her go now even if his original reason for taking her had disappeared. His hand tightened on her arm in unconscious possession. He had given up practically everything he valued in these hellish years. Didn’t he deserve something for himself? Whether he did or not, he knew he was going to take it. He stared straight ahead so she wouldn’t see the sudden glint of resolution in his eyes. “Your notion of whether or not it’s too late is entirely a matter of perspective.” He propelled her gently but inexorably forward into the darkness. “Watch your step. These stairs are steep.”
“Any trouble?” Danilo Jannot carefully closed the door behind them and turned the lock. His gaze raked over Alessandra. “Miss Ballard? I’m glad to see you’re still in good health. I wasn’t sure Sandor would be able to rescue you before Naldona—”
“Wait.” Sandor held up his hand to stem Jannot’s flow of words. “She doesn’t regard it as a rescue, Danilo. According to her, it’s more in the line of interference.” He grinned. “And there wasn’t any trouble, because the lady already had Naldona’s hit man garroted and unconscious as I appeared on the scene.”
'Til the End of Time: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance Page 3
