The Rebel King

Chapter 3

What happened to throwing me over your shoulder and hauling me off to see the king?"

Instead of being annoyed by her announcement. Nikolas's voice and smile betrayed amusement, and even his eyes had lost their steely glitter. Rhia wondered if that was simply more evidence of his legendary self-control. For all she knew-could only hope-the man was seething inside.

"Sorry to disappoint you," she said tartly, annoyed herself at the hum that had come again from nowhere to warm her chest and quicken her pulse.

"You have, actually." he said in a faintly surprised tone. "I was rather looking forward to the experience."

"Oh, don't worry, it may still come to that. For right now…" She shrugged and turned away to hide the heat she could feel rising to her throat…her face. His face was entirely too attractive when he smiled at her with that rakish charm, his eyes heavy-lidded and gone unexpectedly soft… "The fact is, I have a little leeway-not much, but a little. You say you need some time. I'm willing to give it to you-to a point." Faking a huge yawn, she paused in the kitchen doorway to lift her arms over her head in a sinuous catlike stretch, knowing that motion would lift her jacket as well, and reveal a good bit of silky chemise and the skin on the small of her back, and hint…just hint…at everything below that.

Two could play the subtle tease, she thought.

"Hmm-pardon me. It's been rather a long day for me," she murmured huskily. "If you don't mind. I think I'd like to take that couch, now. If you'll just throw me a blanket and maybe a pillow…"

"Nonsense," Nikolas said grandly, "what kind of host would I be? You shall have the bed, of course. I'll take the sofa." He slipped past her with the quickness that seemed so unexpected in a big man, touching-apparently casually-her waist as he did so. The sensation of his warm hand on her bare skin sent an entirely involuntary shudder of pleasure coursing through her. "After all-" for a moment his eyes, bright with laughter, stared straight into hers, and for that moment her brain seemed to cease all function "-I do have a certain reputation to maintain…as a gentleman, that is."

My God, she thought, what's the matter with me? I was warned about this man!

"Hold it." Recovering quickly, she caught up with him as he crossed the living room with his long-legged athlete's stride and tapped him on the shoulder. "Not so fast, Your Highness. Don't think for one minute you're going to stick me off in a bedroom behind a closed door and leave you free to slip out and away the second I nod off. This couch right here will do me fine, thank you very much."

Nikolas tilted his head and gazed thoughtfully past her. "Slip out…and away…do you know, it's a pity the idea hadn't occurred to me."

Yes, he was enjoying himself again, but that fact no longer bemused him. He was growing accustomed to the realization that this woman, Corbett Lazlo's crack bounty hunter, stirred his juices as no one had been able to in a very long time. Maybe ever. Since there seemed to be no use fighting it, he reasoned, what else could he do but enjoy it?

"I do see your point. I suppose comfort and good manners must occasionally be sacrificed to duty. All right," he said briskly, "so it's the sofa for you, then. I'll just get that blanket…" He stepped toward the bedroom, then paused and turned back to her. one eyebrow lifted deliberately toward his hairline. "I suppose you're going to tell me you're a light sleeper as well."

She narrowed her eyes, watching him the way he imagined a cat might eye a mouse weighing the merits of a suicide dash across open floor. "Very light."

"Ah. So…there's not much chance I could slip past you in the middle of the night, then, is there?"

She smiled, and it was the same smile he'd seen once before, hovering a warm breath above his, just before she whispered the word. Serendipity.

"Not a chance," she purred.

"Huh." Pasting on a frown to contain the grin he could feel quivering dangerously through his facial muscles. Nikolas went to fetch his unexpected houseguest a pillow and a blanket.

The next few hours, he thought, promised to be entertaining indeed.

Rhia lay awake in the shadowy darkness, listening to the sounds the rain made in the night. For a time there had been the noises Nikolas made as he prepared for bed-footsteps and scufflings, the gush of water running through pipes, and doors opening and closing-but now there was only the rain, swooshing down the window glass, pattering on the balcony floor, rustling in the vines that covered the apartment building's outside walls.

It should have been a recipe for instant slumber, but instead she was wide awake, tense…restless. Not because the couch wasn't comfortable, but because it was. It was too comfortable, that was the problem. She couldn't let herself relax for fear she'd fall asleep. In spite of her arrogant claims, in her exhausted state she was afraid she might sleep soundly enough to allow Donovan to slip away from her. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said it had been a long day for her; she'd left the Lazlo Group's headquarters long before dawn that morning-only minutes, in fact, after verification of her target's location had come in around 2:00 a.m. Rhia didn't like delays. Once she had the information she needed, she moved and moved quickly. It was just her way.

She needed rest, and badly; she had a feeling it was going to take all her resources, mental and physical, to keep even one step ahead of Nikolas Donovan.

But she couldn't risk letting him escape while she slept. What she needed, she realized, was some kind of alarm.

She threw back the down comforter Nikolas had generously provided and rose from the couch. Ignoring the robe he'd also given her-nice of him, she thought with a wicked inner smile-she felt in the darkness for the belt she always wore on assignments like this one. Her fingers quickly located the pouch containing the items she needed-nail clippers and a small roll of nylon fishing line, nearly invisible, yet strong enough to land a thousand-pound marlin…so useful in so many ways.

By this time her eyes were well adjusted to the semi-darkness. Working without a flashlight and almost soundlessly, she tied a loop of the fishing line around the front door handle, then threaded it carefully around the leg of a small table nearby. It wouldn't go undetected in full light, but if Donovan decided to run, she doubted he'd be turning on any lamps. She did the same to the balcony doors and then, confident nobody was going to exit or enter the apartment without her knowing about it, Rhia lay down once again on the couch and pulled the comforter over herself with a satisfied sigh.

Nikolas, who had been monitoring this activity from the bedroom, heard the sigh and smiled to himself in the darkness. She hasn't lost her resourcefulness, he thought, as his mind flashed back yet again to his first encounter with her on that Paris hotel balcony. Or her sex appeal, his mind wryly added as his body responded predictably to the memory.

She was a worthy adversary. It was going to be fun outwitting her.

Rhia woke up shuddering with sexual arousal, her body scalded, pulses pounding. My God, what a dream. Was it… Nikolas? No-surely not. Somebody who reminds me of Nikolas, though, or-no, wait…I think I remember…

But it was too late, the dream was already slipping away. She remembered a balcony…maybe? Though hazy, it was all she could recall. That, and the same nagging sense of deja vu that had been bothering her all evening.

Exasperated, she once again threw back the comforter and rose, this time putting on the robe her reluctant host had left lying over the arm of the couch. It felt cool and slick on her skin, and smelled of aftershave and masculinity. Just what her overheated senses needed. Like using gasoline to douse a fire, she thought as she made her way through the shadowed room that was already becoming familiar to her.

The rain had stopped. In the quiet even her bare footsteps on the thin carpet seemed loud, but she made no effort to tiptoe. I hope I do wake him, she thought, cranky and jangled from her own interrupted sleep. Serve him right. Though just what it would serve him right for she didn't try to figure out.

In the kitchen she opened the refrigerator and stared hot-eyed into its depths. Where was that damn wine? Ah-yes. She reached for the bottle of rose, now barely a third full, and plucked out the stopper with an audible pop. She raised the bottle to her lips, tilted her head back and swigged down what was left of the wine in noisy unladylike gulps. With a violent shudder-she really did not care for wine-she set the empty bottle and stopper in the sink and made her way back to the couch, managing to stub her toe only once.

She was about to reach for the comforter once more when it occurred to her that perhaps she would be wise to use the WC before settling in. To do so, of course, meant she would have to pass Nikolas's door, which she'd noticed he'd left partly ajar. Figures, she thought. He trusts me about as much as I trust him.

It seemed to her rather like sneaking past the cage of a sleeping tiger-and this time she did tiptoe. Having just gotten her libido calmed down, the last thing she needed was a middle-of-the-night run-in with the man who for some reason appeared to be the cause of its recent rampage.

So, when a voice like the deep-chested growl of a tiger came rumbling out of the bedroom just as she was passing the half-open doorway on her return from the bathroom, it was a miracle she didn't jump right out of her skin.

"Trouble sleeping?"

With one hand braced against the wall for support and the other against her chest to keep the adrenaline surge from forcing her heart through her ribs. Rhia managed to make her voice sound almost normal. "No trouble-I'm just…"

"A light sleeper-I know." The voice was a velvety purr, fairly oozing sympathy. "Are you sure you won't change your mind about the bed?" Light flared warm and golden, splashing across the caipeted floor.

Although she tried her best to stop them, her eyes darted like curious children to the door opening. In the rectangle of soft light from the lamp he'd just switched on. she could see Nikolas reclining gracefully on his side with his upper half raised, propped on one elbow. That same half, the only part of him she could see-sculpted muscles of chest, torso, shoulders and arms-wore nothing but smooth tawny skin with an appealing masculine patterning of ink-black hair. His face wore a knowing smile, and one eyebrow raised in deliberate challenge.

A challenge? That was all Rhia needed. It was a bucketful of cold water in the face, that eyebrow-a clarion call to battle. A slug of Jack Daniel's, neat.

Icy calm settled over her as she pushed the door wide open and leaned, with arms casually folded, against the door frame, her focus so narrow now, she barely noticed-or cared-that the lower half of that magnificent body was modestly covered by a blanket.

"No. I haven't changed my mind. The couch is quite comfortable." Her sultry smile changed to a grimace. "If you must know. I was having a rather unpleasant dream." She paused before adding wickedly. "You were in it."

"Really!" She was ridiculously pleased at the genuine surprise in his voice.

"Yes-not all that hard to figure, really, considering you've been pretty much the whole focus of my existence for the past few days. Plus…" She hesitated, frowned, then reluctantly gave in. wondering whether she was going to regret putting these particular cards on the table. She let it out with an exasperated gust of breath. "Plus, I've been trying all evening to think who you remind me of, dammit. Or where I've met you before. Because I'm sure I have, and it's driving me crazy-" She stopped and straightened up, eyes narrowing", his eyes had a suspicious sparkle in them, like someone with a bad poker face and a secret ace up his sleeve. "Okay, wait. You know, don't you? We have met before, and you know where."

His satisfied chuckle confirmed it. Inwardly grinding her teeth and wearing her most winning smile, she took a cajoling step toward him, her role as his captor and keeper temporarily put aside. "Come on, you have to tell me. I can't believe I wouldn't have remembered you…"

"Hmm…flattering." Nikolas murmured. His eyes had softened with laughter…and something else she couldn't name. His smile grew downright seductive. "I won't tell you…but if you'll come here a minute, I'll give you a hint."

"A hint?" She paused, thinking of the limerick again. She really did not trust that tiger-smile.

"Yes, luv, a hint. But you'll have to come closer than that." He shifted, lying back on the pillows, and patted the blanket beside him. "Come, come-what are you afraid of? Surely you don't think a future king would stoop to ravishing an unwilling lady."

"From all I hear, Reginald would have." Rhia said darkly.

"Ah. Yes. But I'm not Reginald. Nor a future king, either, actually, so that's not much help, is it?" His eyebrow rose, his mouth tilted wryly, and his voice deepened with an unmistakable note of mockery. "Miss de Hayes, I never would have taken you for a coward."

She stood where she was, studying him. the challenge ringing in her head. She was far from a coward, and confident enough of that fact not to feel a need to prove it. So why the quickening pulse and heightened senses, the thrum of excitement pounding deep in her belly and shivering across her skin? This is crazy. Definitely against the rules. Possibly even dangerous.

Why? Because she'd always loved risk. And hated rules.

Hands thrust deep in the pockets of the borrowed robe, she resumed her unhurried stroll toward the bed and its infuriating and intriguing occupant and stopped an arm's length from both. "Okay, let's have it. The hint."

He shook his head, eyelids half-closed. Sleepy tiger… "Sorry, that still won't do. I'm afraid. In fact, you're going to have to come quite a lot closer." He patted the blanket again.

"Oh, you can't be serious." Rhia said. "You can't actually think I'm going to get into bed with you."

"Not into bed, darling-appealing as the idea may be. Just on will do. On me, actually. On top of the covers, of course- I did promise not to ravish you."

"No, you didn't."

"Didn't I? Oh, well, all right then. I do now. No ravishing- cross my heart." He drew an X over one firm and dusky pec, then said drily. "Anyway, I like to think if I were of a mind to ravish someone. I could manage to do so without resorting to such an idiotic plot."

"Being ravished," Rhia said darkly, "is hardly my greatest fear, at the moment."

"Really? How refreshing. What is, then?"

"Being made a fool of. I don't like being mocked, Donovan."

His eyes and smile softened instantly. "Oh.,my dear, that's the last thing I'd want to do to you, believe me. No-you wanted to know where we've met before, and I said I'd give you a hint. I'm about to do so, if you'll allow me, but you're going to have to trust me."

"Trust you?" Rhia said that with a shivery little laugh. But she sat down on the edge of the bed-rather abruptly due to the fact that her legs were suddenly feeling uncommonly weak. Grumpy because of that, she muttered. "Oh, why don't you just tell me? Save all this trouble."

Nikolas chuckled. "I could. I suppose, but this is so much more enjoyable. Now-if you could bring yourself to stretch out here…"

In spite of that weakness in her knees and a giddy, fluttery sensation in her stomach. Rhia had to admit she was enjoying herself, too. She didn't like to imagine what her handlers at the Lazlo Group would make of all this, but the truth was, she always had been allowed a considerable amount of latitude when it came to choosing her methods of operation. So long as those methods resulted in a successful mission, that is. If playing the lighthearted seduction game with Nikolas Donovan was what it took to get him back to Silvershire and into the arms of his royal biological father, then she was willing to make the sacrifice.

The odd thing was, she did trust him. Probably more than she trusted herself.

"On top of you, you said?" She turned, arranging herself first beside the long blanket-covered mound that was Nik's body, trying not to think about the part of that body that wasn't covered, the part that was giving off the intoxicating scent and sultry warmth of a clean, healthy man in waves that made her head swim. Catching and holding a breath, she eased her body carefully over and onto the mound. She lifted her head and looked down into those dusky gray eyes, and it was like looking into a very deep well. Fighting an unaccustomed wave of vertigo, she unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth and mumbled in a shivery voice. "Like this?"

"Hmm…perfect. Lovely." His voice vibrated against her chest. "Now, then…are the bells ringing?"

Rhia uncrossed her eyes and shook her head. "No…"

His sigh lifted her gently, and she felt an urge to grab hold of something and hold on. Something…like him.

"Then I'm afraid you're going to have to kiss me."

Her head rocked back, clearing instantly. She let go a gust of breath. "Kiss you! What are you trying-"

Nikolas lifted his head from the pillows and held his arms out wide. "Look-I promised, crossed my heart. No ravishing, see? Arms way out here. I won't even-"

"Oh, just shut up." Rhia said recklessly. She ducked her head and kissed him hard on the mouth. After a moment-a very brief moment-she raised her head and glared at him. "Well? I still don't hear any bells."

He gave a soft, dry snort. "Yes, well, small wonder, with a peck like that. Try it again, luv, and this time put some… hmm, how shall I put it?…some sex into it."

She closed her eyes; her heart thumped heavily against the place where her chest met his. "Oh, God-please don't tell me we had a one-night stand. That's impossible. I know I'd have remembered-"

"As someone recently said, do shut up." He lifted his head and his mouth found hers even before she knew she was bringing it down to his once more.

She had no idea how long it was before she raised her head again; she lost all sense of time. She lost all sense of space, too. She felt the world whirl around her; she was floating, weightless. She needed desperately to hold onto something, or better yet, to have something-strong, masculine arms- holding her. Electricity skated along her nerves; her hands clenched, fisted in the blanket, gathering it in greedy handfuls. Her heart rocked her body with each beat, like hammer blows.

Desperate for breath, she pulled away, finally, and found that her eyes now refused to focus. In a drunken voice she managed to mutter, "What the hell was that?"

Nikolas's smile swam into her blurred line of vision, and his breath was soft on her lips as he whispered. "Serendipity."

She opened her mouth and a gasp burst from her throat, but that was all she had time for as his arms came around her and, with one deft and powerful twist of his body, he rolled her under him. Stunned, she looked up at the face suspended above her, the face filling up all her world with its chiseled jaw and patrician nose, its dark brow and brooding eyes, its beautifully sculpted mouth. That face. That mouth…

Memories flickered like lightning flashes; a clap of thunder shuddered through her. She whispered. "Oh, my God, was that you?"

She'd never forgotten him, the man who'd saved her career that night. Possibly her life. She remembered every detail of the encounter, from the moment she'd vaulted over that balcony wall, not knowing what she'd find on the other side, knowing only it was bound to be better than staying where she was. The legitimate occupant of the room she'd been searching was known to be a dangerous man-and was evidently unpredictable, too. She hadn't expected him back for another fifteen minutes, at least.

When she heard the key card slick in and out of its slot, she hurled herself through the sliding door and onto the balcony, knowing it was only a temporary refuge. Even a blind man or a complete idiot would be able to tell in seconds the room had been searched-and Clive Harrington was no fool. A wife-beater, a child-stealer, a cheat, a liar and a mean-as-a-snake SOB, for sure, but not stupid. The balcony was the first place he'd look.

Rhia figured she had three choices: She could go up, down, or sideways. Since the balcony was fifteen floors up and she lacked both wings and climbing gear, that left only one choice, and she took it without hesitation. In roughly two seconds time she was pulling herself over the six-foot wall between her assignment 's balcony and the one next door and dropping down on the other side…

… Right on top of the unfortunate and unsuspecting person enjoying the view of the lights of Paris and the cool night air.

She didn't know what made her do it. She remembered looking down into his face-the face of a man, a young man…and handsome. More than handsome, if she'd had time to think about it. But…she remembered hearing the muffled cry of fury from the room next door, and realizing she had only seconds in which to save herself. And then she was kissing the strange man lying half-stunned beneath her, kissing him as if she'd done it…oh, many times before.

She remembered hearing Harrington's voice asking about her, then apologizing for the interruption, and feeling exhilarated…smug…clever. Somehow she'd done it-pulled it off. She was free and clear!

But…there was this…roan she was lying on…kissing. And his mouth tasted good, tasted faintly of wine…and felt warm and firm and enthusiastic, and-after the first shocked seconds- oh, so skillful. Still tangled with his, her lips formed a smile.

Then, slowly, even a bit reluctantly, she separated her mouth from his and gazed down at him, searching for the words to tell him how grateful she was. Searching for a way to say thank you. And good-bye.

But… when she lowered her head to touch his lips again in sweet farewell, she felt his body grow hard and quiver with wiry strength…and his arms were around her now, and she felt his head lift and his muscles surge and a moment later she was lying on her back and his weight was pressing down on her and his face was filling the sky above her, blotting out the pale Paris night. She felt his arms tight around her and his heartbeat thumping off-beat against hers. And she thought…

Foolish Rhia! Stupid-stupid to play with fire this way!

Her panic lasted only a moment. She was still in control- of course she was. She could stop this any time she chose. The arms holding her prisoner were masterful but not brutal; the eyes burning down into hers were angry, yes, but bright with questions rather than lust.

What was that? What the hell do you call that? she heard him demand in a croaking, unexpectedly young voice.

And somewhere deep inside her she felt a smile shiver free and bubble up through her chest and emerge with a whispered sigh: Serendipity

He gave a brief huff that might have been wonder or merely acknowledgment, then lowered his mouth to hers for one quick, hard kiss, a kiss that left her with throbbing lips and racing heart and a strange humming in her chest. Then he rolled his weight off of her to lie on his back with one arm across his eyes. She felt his body shake with silent laughter.

For one insane moment she thought of staying right there. Wondered what a kiss like that might possibly lead to, and who this young man was who could have a strange woman drop on him from out of the sky and not only keep his cool and play along in her game with life-and-death stakes, but laugh about it afterward. But Harrington was a few yards away in the next room, undoubtedly on the phone to the French police and the British embassy at that very moment. She couldn'tcount on her good luck holding forever. She didn't know how Corbett Lazlo felt about bailing his agents out of jail-in her case, a second time-but she didn't care to find out, not on her first solo assignment.

She sat up, patted her savior's shoulder and breathlessly muttered. Thanks-I don't know who you are, but I definitely owe you one. Then she rose, stepped over his body and slipped through the balcony door, moving quickly and nimbly as she always did…moving as if her legs weren't shaky and her stomach jittering with the aftereffects of a kiss she knew even then she was never going to forget…

"You did say you owed me one," Nikolas said, his voice an amused rumble against her chest. "Although I've never been quite clear on what for, exactly."

"Oh, nothing much," Rhia said grudgingly. "Just possibly my life. Definitely my career."

"Ah-I see. Then I would be correct in surmising that what you were doing in that hotel room was something similar to what I found you doing in mine this evening?"

She tried to squirm, then thought better of it. "Well…yes. I guess you could say that." She focused her eyes on the lock of dark hair that swept across his brow like a blackbird's wing. Studying the silky, glossy blackness of it, she found herself smiling. "But somehow…I don't think that gentleman would have cooked me supper and offered me his bed."

"Hmm…foolish man."

The lock of hair brushed her forehead like a whispered command, and obediently her eyelids fluttered closed. She felt the warmth of his breath flow over her lips, and her heart gave a crazy leap, gave a foolish, giddy leap, like a smitten schoolgirl's. Her breath caught; unable to help herself, she lifted to him, searching again for that clever, clever mouth. He chuckled; his lips hovered…brushed…nipped…teased. Her stomach dropped sickeningly as she felt herself lifted on a wave of desire, like a roller coaster when it shoots up…up…up to the crest…just before it begins its heart-stopping plunge back down. Down…toward certain disaster.

But, as she teetered there, waiting for the plunge, breathless with exhilaration, trembling with desire, she felt a heartbeat thumping against her palm. And she realized that, without any recollection of having done so, she'd placed her hand against his chest like a barrier.

Roller-coastering emotions bumped and careened over realizations and fears and screeched to a halt just short of panic. My God, what am I doing? I can't…

"Nikolas-wait." she gasped. "I can't…do this."

"Mmm… why not?" The soft words tickled her lips and his tongue lightly soothed them. "It's not like we haven't done this before."

"That was…different. There was a reason…circumstances." And I was young, then. Reckless! Her voice went breathy with panic. "And I didn't know…who you were."

His laughter was dry with irony. "So…it's okay to kiss a stranger, but not a prince? And you wonder why I'm not exactly thrilled at the thought of being one?"

And he rolled away from her, leaving her just as jangled and shaky as she had been on that memorable night so long ago.

He jerked the tangled blanket aside and got up, and she barely had time to register the fact that he was wearing a pair of black silk boxers that rode low on narrow hips, before he leaned down to brush her forehead with his lips. "Don't get up, luv. I'll take the couch."

He was walking away from her when she fought her way free of the half of the blanket that still cocooned her. "No way. Dammitm I'm not letting-"

He turned back, put his hands on her shoulders and gently but firmly pushed her down onto the bed. clucking to her as he did so like a mother hen to a wayward chick. "Don't get excited. I promise I won't run off while you're sleeping. In fact, I give you my word on it-how's that?"

She eyed him warily, not trusting that smile or the gleam in those pewter-gray eyes, not for a second. "Word of a king?"

His smile vanished. "No," he said coldly as he straightened up, "Word of honor. My honor."

He turned and strode from the room. And in that moment, in her opinion-boxers and all-had never looked more like a king.