'Til the End of Time: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance

by Iris Johansen

  “How unfortunate. But that doesn’t tell me why Sandor sent you into the lion’s den.” His lips twisted. “Or why you let yourself be sent.”

  “Karpathan seemed to think another hostage might pacify you. I was certainly willing to come. James never treated me like Karpathan. James was always very kind to me. When you let him go, I want to go with him. There isn’t any reason for you to hurt me now.” She gazed at him limpidly. “May I see James?”

  He hesitated and then shrugged. “Why not?” He stood aside. “Come in, Miss Ballard, and join the party.” He motioned to the guard, who lowered the pistol. “It’s too bad you’ll be of no use to me with Karpathan, but I still may find a way to improve my situation. Bruner is a very rich man, and I’ll need money to make my exile comfortable. He appears to be very fond of you.”

  “I know how to please a man.” Alessandra entered the suite. “James and I understood each other.” She glanced anxiously over her shoulder. “You didn’t tell him what happened between Karpathan and me?”

  He shook his head. “Your little secret is safe for the moment. Perhaps it will remain so if you give me the help I need with Bruner.” He nodded to the door of the bedroom. “He’s locked in there. He’ll be delighted that I’ve returned his little playmate to him.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and handed it to her. “Show him a good time. If Karpathan doesn’t give me what I want, it may be the last one he has.”

  “You wouldn’t do that. We’re American citizens.” She strode confidently toward the bedroom door. “You and Karpathan will work things out and then James and I will leave here.” She unlocked the door. “I’ve had enough of Tamrovia to last me for the rest of my life.”

  Naldona strolled to the center of the room. “American citizen. You say it like a magic incantation. It means nothing here.”

  “Of course it means something here.” She tossed her head. Lord, what a phony gesture. Next she’d be neighing like a Shetland pony. “Everyone knows you can’t monkey around with Uncle Sam.”

  “Alessandra!” James was sitting on the bed, and he jumped to his feet.

  “Oh, darling, you can’t imagine what I’ve been through.” She ran across the room and kissed him on the cheek. “Fires and that horrible Karpathan man and—” She stopped, her gaze searching his face. “You look tired. Are you well? Sit down.” She pushed him gently back on the bed and knelt in front of him. “I shouldn’t have left you. No one can take care of you the way I can.” She smiled brilliantly into his bewildered face while her hand slipped beneath the edge of her baggy trousers to clasp the handle of the pistol. “But now I’m back, and I’ll make sure …” She drew out the gun with one smooth movement, turned to face Naldona, and finished the sentence. “… we both get out of here.”

  The satisfied smile on Naldona’s face vanished. “You’re being incredibly stupid. I have thirty men down the hall. One shot and they’ll be in this room in seconds.”

  “That won’t do you any good if the bullet is aimed at you. I’m a fair shot, and I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.” She rose to her feet and met his gaze steadily. “You have a habit of underestimating people, Naldona. Sandor, James, me. Don’t make that mistake now.”

  He studied her for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “You’re an excellent bluffer, but I don’t think you’re capable of following through on it.” His lips curved contemptuously as his gaze moved over her. “You don’t learn such strength of purpose in the bedroom. You’d be wiser to stick to whoring.”

  James stepped impulsively forward. “Naldona, you son of—”

  “No, James,” Alessandra said quickly. “It doesn’t matter.” She gestured with the pistol. “We’re going for a little walk, Naldona.”

  “You think I’m going to let you use me as a hostage? Absolutely not.” Naldona’s eyes glared fiercely into her own. “The only way to handle a bluffer is to call the bluff. Your bluff is called, whore.” He deliberately turned his back and began to walk toward the door. I’m going to call the guards. If you give up now, I might let you live.”

  Choice. Oh, Lord, she didn’t want to shoot him. The thought filled her with cold horror. Yet if she didn’t, he would call his men and any chance of saving James would be gone. His suspicions would be thoroughly roused and he’d be ready for Sandor’s attack force. Sandor and Paulo, and no telling how many others, might be killed or hurt. On the other hand, without a leader, there was a strong possibility Naldona’s men would surrender.

  “Stop, Naldona. I mean it.”

  He didn’t turn around. “Your voice is shaking. You don’t like violence, do you? I enjoy it. I’ve acquired quite a taste for it over the years. Karpathan probably has too.”

  “No.” But Naldona was speaking the truth concerning himself. He did enjoy violence. The torture squads, Limtana burning in the night. “I don’t want to do this, but I will. Don’t open that door.”

  “A bluff,” he said. He reached for the knob of the door.

  She pulled the trigger.

  “I guess you are angry with me, eh?” Paulo straightened, moving away from the boulder against which he’d been leaning as Sandor and his men came pouring into the cave. He glanced reproachfully at Conal, who stood at Sandor’s side. “You didn’t wait very long before telling him. She’s only been gone fifteen minutes.”

  “Long enough to get killed. If Naldona has hurt her, I’m going to strangle you both.” Sandor slipped behind the boulder and into the entrance of the passage. As he turned on his flashlight, his face was pale and more grim than Paulo had ever seen it. “I told you to take care of her. I wanted her out of the country.”

  “She’s a very determined woman. She had a right to make the decision for herself.”

  Sandor was moving at a half trot through the passage.

  Paulo lengthened his stride to keep up with him. “Don’t blame Conal. He was willing to try anything to save your neck.” He paused. “So was Alessandra.”

  Sandor’s only answer was to quicken his pace.

  The first thing they heard when they exited the secret passage into the sitting room was the sound of a shot. The pounding of boots in the hall followed immediately.

  “Alessandra.” Sandor tore across the sitting room and jerked open the door. “Oh, God, Alessandra.”

  More shots. Voices lifted in confusion.

  The hall was crammed with Naldona’s guards milling about, and the door to the dictator’s suite was open wide. A man’s voice rang out harshly. “He’s dead, dammit. You have nothing left to fight for. Naldona’s dead. I have to get her to a doctor.”

  Her? Sandor took a step forward.

  Paulo grasped his arm and jerked him back into the sitting room. “You’re not thinking. They’re like a flock of geese fluttering around a barnyard. You’ve got to get their attention and show them where the threat lies.” He grabbed Conal’s machine gun and sprayed a barrage of bullets over the heads of the soldiers in the hall. The confusion doubled as they whirled to face the new attack. “That should do it.” Paulo tossed the machine gun back to Conal.

  Sandor’s soldiers rushed forward, and in minutes Naldona’s men had been subdued and Sandor was pushing his way into Naldona’s suite. He cast only a cursory glance at Naldona’s body, on the floor by the door. His entire attention was fixed on James Bruner and the still, white-clad woman he was kneeling beside. Alessandra.

  “Get a doctor,” he ordered hoarsely, not taking his eyes off her. “Now.” He walked across the room. He felt as if he were moving in slow motion. His voice also sounded distorted and far away to him. “She’s been hit?”

  Bruner had unbuttoned Alessandra’s white blouse and was using his handkerchief to apply pressure to a bleeding wound on her left side. “Yes.” He glanced up. “Karpathan?”

  Sandor nodded as he dropped to his knees. Lord, she was pale. Her long lashes were dark shadows on her cheeks. “She’s unconscious. How bad is it?”

  “I have no idea. I’m not a doc
tor.” Bruner’s lips twisted. “You never should have let her come after me.”

  “I didn’t let her,” Sandor said dully. The blood was slowly seeping through her white blouse. “Where the hell is that doctor?”

  “She shot Naldona.”

  “Did she?” He couldn’t have cared less about Naldona at that moment. Sandor reached out to stroke the hair away from her face. His gaze suddenly lifted, his eyes blazing fiercely in his pale face. “Who shot her?”

  “I don’t know. One of the soldiers who burst in here after she shot Naldona. Does it matter?”

  “It matters.” Sandor would get great pleasure from punishing the bastard who had hurt Alessandra. But he couldn’t do that yet. Now he had to concentrate all his energy on saving her.

  “More violence,” Bruner said with acid bitterness. “Won’t you ever learn? You’ve nearly killed her. Alessandra hates war and violence, and you’ve caused her to shoot a man. If she lives, how do you think she’s going to feel about that?”

  If she lived. She had to live. Sandor didn’t think he’d be able to exist without her. “I don’t know.” His hand resumed its tender stroking motion at her temple. “I just don’t know.”

  Ten

  He was falling, crumpling to the floor in slow, slow motion. The shot still echoed in her ears and her eyes and her heart as she watched with sick horror. The gun in her hand was terribly heavy, but she couldn’t seem to let it fall. It was stuck to her hand. She didn’t want to hold it. She never wanted to touch a gun again. “No. Please, no.”

  “Shh. It’s all right. You’re fine now.” Sandor’s voice. Sandor’s hand holding tightly to her own.

  She opened her eyes. “Sandor?” she whispered. “You’re safe?”

  He was sitting on the bed beside her. His deep blue eyes were glittering. “I’m safe,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Bruner’s safe. And so are you. The doctor said your wound isn’t much more than a scratch. The only reason you fainted was exhaustion.” He paused. “And shock.”

  Shock. Naldona. “Is Naldona …?”

  Sandor’s hand tightened. “Yes.”

  She felt the waves of sickness return. “I was afraid he was.”

  “Dear heaven, don’t cry. It’s tearing me apart.”

  She hadn’t known she was crying, but now she became aware of the tears running slowly down her cheeks. “I’ve never had to do that before.”

  “He was a bloodthirsty bastard.” Sandor’s voice was harsh. “Everyone in Tamrovia wants to give you a medal. You’re a national heroine.”

  “He was a man.” She closed her eyes wearily. “I didn’t want to do it, Sandor. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “I know you didn’t. Go back to sleep, love. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

  “Will I?” She doubted if this terrible depression could be alleviated—much less banished—by sleep. But Sandor had said she would feel better, and it must be true. Sandor wouldn’t lie to her. She could trust Sandor.…

  “I don’t want to stay in bed,” Alessandra said firmly. “You told me the doctor assured you it was only a very minor flesh wound. I can’t lie in this bed any longer. It will drive me up the wall.”

  James chuckled. “Longer? You only regained consciousness two hours ago. I wouldn’t say you’ve been exactly bedfast. The doctor also said you need rest and relaxation.” His smile faded. “And to stay off those feet as much as possible for the next two weeks.”

  “I can’t do that.” She sat up in bed, flinching as a hot twinge shot through her side. Why did every muscle in her body ache, when only her left side had been grazed? “I have to see Sandor.”

  “You can’t see him now. He’s in a cabinet meeting. We sent a message to let him know you’d finally decided to wake up.”

  “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long. Thirty-six hours.” She shook her head. “It’s incredible.”

  “Not at all. According to Karpathan, you’ve been driven to the edge of exhaustion. He said the last few days had been a nightmare for you.”

  Not all of it had been a nightmare. There had been moments of beauty and warmth and passion. Moments she would remember for the rest of her life. Sandor Karpathan had stepped into her life and transfigured it in every way. “Cabinet meeting? That sounds very official.”

  “As official as anything can be with a fledgling government. Sandor has formed a temporary cabinet to set up committees and act as a governing body until a constitution can be drafted and an election held.” He made a face. “I’m surprised the cabinet’s wrangling didn’t awaken you. Karpathan refused to leave you for the first twenty-four hours, so his cabinet set up shop in the sitting room. It seems they decided they couldn’t do without Karpathan. That appears to be the common feeling here in Tamrovia. Everything stops without him.”

  “Yes.” She could endorse that viewpoint. Her own world would stop without Sandor. He had stayed with her during a period when the demands on him must have been titanic. She felt the familiar warm radiance begin deep within her. “They love him.”

  “And they’re not the only ones.” James’s gaze was searching her face. “I think you must share the general hysteria. I suppose I should have suspected as much. He was almost out of his mind with worry until the doctor assured him you’d be fine in a few days. It’s very rare for that depth of emotion to exist without reciprocation.”

  “I do love him.” The words felt strange and came hesitantly to her lips, but what was there to be hesitant about? He was a man any woman would be proud to love. She lifted her chin. “I’m absolutely mad about Sandor Karpathan.”

  “Well, you were never one to do things halfway.” His hand covered hers on the counterpane of the bed. “Does that mean I’m going to have to go to Mariba alone?”

  “We’ll work something out. Nothing is settled.” She hadn’t even told Sandor she loved him. She experienced an instant of uncertainty. For that matter, he had made only the most fleeting mention of any lasting emotion to her. No, there hadn’t been any need for words. Sandor had said words weren’t always necessary. The bond between them might be new, but it was very strong. “I have to talk to Sandor.”

  “I believe we’ve gone over that ground before.”

  “And I’m not staying in bed.”

  “Alessandra …”

  “She is causing you trouble?” Paulo stood in the doorway. “Sandor said she would. He also said we are to keep her in bed until he can make arrangements for her.”

  “Arrangements? I don’t need ‘arrangements.’ All I need is for everyone to stop arguing with me.”

  “Sandor says you need these arrangements.” Paulo strolled into the room to stand beside the bed and grin down at her. “Now, why are you being so difficult? Sandor has entrusted me with this mission, and you know I never fail at anything I undertake.”

  “This may be the exception to prove the rule. Since when have you accepted such unexciting assignments, Paulo?”

  “I decided I owed it to Sandor. I didn’t take as good care of his woman as I might have.”

  “Because I was shot? That wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own. It was my decision to go alone. You wanted to come with me.”

  Paulo shook his head. “Not because you were shot.” His gaze was reproachful. “You didn’t tell me about your feet. If you’d complained, I would have found a way to help you on our trip from the airfield. Sandor was very angry I had let you walk that distance.”

  “Let?”

  He chuckled, and inclined his head in a half bow. “My apologies. Just then you sounded like my sister, Marna. I’m not fool enough to think a woman can’t equal a man, but any person has to be taken care of when she or he is hurt.” His smile vanished. “Now, let us be sensible. Sandor has many claims on his time right now. You may have slept for the last thirty-six hours, but he has not. I don’t think he’s snatched more than a few hours since the assault on Belajo began. He’s very tired. He’s been dividing his time between watching over yo
u and establishing his government. If you insist on getting up, I’ll have to tell him, and he will break off his meeting to come and argue with you, which means he will have to go back to the meeting later instead of resting. Do you want that?”

  She frowned. “No, of course not.”

  “Then why not stay quietly in bed this afternoon and let him make his arrangements? In a few hours I will send a maid to help you with your bath and make you beautiful for him.”

  Dear heaven, she hadn’t given a thought to how she looked. Even at her best, she was no beauty, and she was definitely not at her best now. She probably appeared as worn and frazzled as an old army boot. “I suppose I’m not very presentable.”

  Neither James nor Paulo answered, but their silence spoke volumes.

  “Oh, very well.” She sighed. “When are these ‘arrangements’ supposed to be set?”

  “This evening. Sandor said he would be pleased if you would dine with him in the grand ballroom.”

  “The grand ballroom?” she repeated. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

  Paulo nodded.

  “Is it a party?”

  Paulo shrugged. “He didn’t say. I don’t think so. He wouldn’t want to tire you.” He turned to leave. “I will go and arrange for the maid.” He glanced pointedly at James. “It would be best if she rested now.”

  James rose hurriedly to his feet. “Yes, of course. I’ll come to see you later, Alessandra.” He followed Paulo to the door and paused to glance back and smile at her. “I doubt if I’m invited to your party. I have an idea Karpathan has a very private affair in mind this evening.” He closed the door quietly behind him.

  She hoped it was private. The only person she wanted to see tonight was Sandor. But the grand ballroom? Perhaps it was some belated victory celebration. She slowly settled back in the bed and tried to relax. It wasn’t easy. She wanted to see Sandor, touch him, talk to him. She was feeling terribly isolated. They had grown so close in their time together, she hadn’t realized how lonely she would be when separated from him. Unfortunately, everyone in Tamrovia seemed to feel the same way.