Читать книгу The Black Sheep and The English Rose - Donna Kauffman - Страница 7

She’d lost her mind. It was the only explanation.

Two years had passed. Two years. Yet, nothing had changed. One grin—one flash of those white teeth—and the calculating professional who always put mission first, self second, vanished. And some inner sex kitten she didn’t even know took over. What in the hell did she think she was doing?

She could lie to herself and say she was just doing what she had to in order to extricate herself from a less than promising situation.

And a lie it would be.

Two years. She’d almost managed to get the charming bastard out of her thoughts. She’d never get him out of her dreams. That, she could live with. She’d reconciled herself to that much. But now here he was, still larger than life, still cocky as hell, and pulling her right back into that same sexual fog she’d barely escaped from last time. If you could call being left naked and shackled an escape. Lord only knew where she’d have ended up if he hadn’t chosen to leave her when he did. She couldn’t even be all that angry at the manner in which he’d left her. She’d certainly deserved worse, considering the clams. Besides, he’d done her a favor. Another few hours spent wrapped around him and who knew what secrets she might have been tempted to spill? He already knew far too much about her, and she was still clueless as to why he’d let her get away with it. Twice.

She’d teased him about his business integrity, but she’d always known Finn Dalton was one of the good guys. Which, considering that he was also the epitome of a bad boy, was quite an intoxicating mix. And doubly dangerous. To her, and to her mission. That night in Prague, she’d been oh-so tempted to do what she’d never done before: confide in someone, bring him in on her secret.

Thank God he’d left her when he had. Naked or not.

That had been her mantra every day since. For a time, she’d thought she actually believed it.

She moved her hips beneath his, fighting the internal battle of want over need, losing it handily, and not particularly caring. He made it easy to play the siren. One look from him and she felt like some primal creature whose only directive was to melt him down to his most basic essence. It was a wonder they both hadn’t gone up in flames the last time they’d tangled. Twice now they’d danced on the edge, twice now she’d been lucky to get out unscathed. The first time had been pure luck. But that last time…He could have ruined her, personally and professionally, had he chosen to. She had no idea why he hadn’t. Which made what she was doing right now the epitome of foolishness.

If she entertained the thought, even for a second, that she could control him through sex, then she deserved whatever she got.

“Actually,” he said, teasing the corner of her mouth with a brush of his lips, “I want to take you up on your proposition.”

Her entire body shuddered at the mere thought that he wanted more of her. Her head knew it was business. But tell that to the rest of her. She was in dire need of an edge. More of an edge than the knowledge his raging erection gave her. She hooked her foot around his ankle and rolled him to his back.

Only his extreme agility kept them both from dropping off the edge of the bed. Not exactly the edge she’d had in mind. She tried to straddle him, but he wrapped his legs around her and kept her fully pinned to him, his fingers still entwined with hers. So much for controlling things.

“I seem to remember you have a penchant for being on top,” he said, his grin resurfacing.

Her pulse doubled. She was in so much trouble. She could extract the rarest of artifacts from the trickiest of locations leaving nary a trace. She couldn’t be around Finn Dalton for more than five seconds without losing every ounce of intellect she possessed. “I don’t seem to recall you minding all that much.”

He laughed. “No. No, I didn’t.” He slid his arms up over his head, drawing their joined hands higher, pulling her face closer to his. “So, about this partnership you proposed. I was thinking we should…hammer out some of the details.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what you want from this…partnership.”

“Now, now. Like you, I don’t conduct business in bed. That’s strictly personal time.” He abruptly rolled, and she found herself flat on her back again, pinned down by his weight, now fully on top of her.

She wished it didn’t feel so damn good.

“However,” he went on, “all work and no play can make for a very dull boy.”

“Dull. Hmm.” She pushed her hips up, making them both groan a little. “Apparently you’ve been taking a lot of time for play, then.”

“Unfortunately, no.” His grin was as unabashed as ever. “Though it’s a problem I’d be more than happy for you to assist me with.”

“How could a girl resist such an offer?”

He moved a little, until they were both breathing a bit more heavily. “I’m sure we’ll spend some time figuring out the answer to that.” He shifted his weight off of her slightly. “But for now, talk to me about this stone we’re both after.”

Her eyes widened in surprise as some of the fog blessedly lifted. She hadn’t thought he’d be so open about it. For all they’d both known, during each of their encounters, exactly why their paths had crossed they hadn’t exactly talked about. Much less shared any intel on it. “First off,” she said, “what happened to the no-business-in-bed rule? And secondly, we haven’t yet discussed what would be in this partnership for me.”

Now he moved his hips and gave her his most hopeful, innocent smile, which didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. She couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re incredibly incorrigible. A trait I admire, by the way. But, quite obviously I could get that from you without the promise of business.”

He sighed, but his eyes still twinkled. She’d forgotten how incessantly blue they were. It was like staring into an endless sea, sparkling with sunlight.

“True,” he said. “But think of how much more fun it would be to work and play together.”

She disengaged her hands from his and tried to wriggle out from underneath him. She hadn’t expected to feel such a strong tug. A tug that wasn’t entirely physical. It was bad enough that he could make her body tremble in need with nothing more than a glance and a smile. Her heart absolutely could not—would not—come into play. And yet she was looking at him and feeling something that was undeniably affectionate.

Foolhardy, indeed.

She needed to get some distance from him, and quickly, if she was going to think even remotely clearly on the matter. For whatever reason, and she was certain he had them, he let her go and rolled to his back as she quickly slid off the bed and moved several feet away.

She’d thought she’d been having a bad day when she’d so badly bungled her one prime opportunity in this case earlier this evening. Now she was standing in her own room, wearing nothing more than a few flimsy pieces of lingerie, her body riled up in ways it hadn’t been for two long years, her heart in a surprising little tangle of its own, and, furthermore, contemplating joining forces with the one man who’d proven himself to be her most formidable adversary. She hadn’t known the meaning of bad day.

“Allow me to dress, then we’ll talk.”

“Don’t feel you have to on my account.” He propped his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. “You know, I rather like you in blue.” He said it casually, matter-of-factly. “Something about the contrast with that pale skin and all that amazing hair.”

She shouldn’t blush. Lord knew the things they’d already done together made blushing a bit after the fact. But for all that their main connection thus far had been purely animal in nature, he’d still occasionally say something so sincere, and so…uncalculated, she’d find herself reacting in ways that were dangerous, to say the least. Like wondering what it would be like to be with Finn in regular, day-to-day circumstances. Where every word, every move, didn’t have to be examined and analyzed for potential danger to the mission at hand. It was a dangerous notion, indeed. Of course, even in her real life she lived nothing remotely close to what people would consider a normal routine, so it was all moot anyway. Still…

She turned her back to him and walked to her closet. “I appreciate the sentiment,” she informed him, still struggling to reclaim that distance even now that his hands weren’t on her. “However, though you have good reason to assume otherwise, if it’s business we’re to discuss, then I’d prefer to be dressed for such.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me. All the better to imagine you like this underneath whatever tailored little suit you decide to put on. In some cases, more can still be less.”

She rolled her eyes. Truly incorrigible. But his smile was one of pure fun and mischief, and she wished like hell it didn’t make her want to be just as mischievous in return. Like surprise him by running back and leaping on top of him, and simply having her way with him for the next few hours. The images that immediately played through her now feverish mind made her leap for her walk-in closet instead. She did manage to pull herself together enough to pause before stepping inside. The only chance she had here was to keep him believing she thought she had the upper hand at all times.

She looked back at him. “Perhaps I should shackle you to the bed, to ensure you’ll still be here when I return. At the very least, to make certain neither of us gets a head start.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

She stepped in the closet and closed the door behind her. “Yeah,” she whispered shakily. “That’s what I’m most afraid of.”

She skimmed over the array of clothing hanging in front of her, which was about as complete a wardrobe as anyone could hope to have at home, much less while traveling. She was an heiress and, as such, was expected to travel in a certain fashion. Had it been up to her, she’d have been thrilled with throwing a comfortable pair of trousers and a few shirts in a satchel and taking off. But that wasn’t how things worked. “And I’m so heartily sick of how things have to work.”

“Do you always mutter while you dress?”

She jumped. His voice was close. Just-on-the-other-side-of-the-door close. “I realize that my past manner of conduct around you might give a differing point of view, but, at the moment, I’d appreciate a bit of privacy, if you don’t mind.”

“Not in the least. That’s why I left the door closed.”

“Big of you.”

“You have no idea.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or rap her forehead repeatedly against the closet wall. If she thought it would instill the least bit of sense, she’d have been happy to do the latter, but, as usual, it was the former that he provoked. “Actually,” she retorted, knowing better even as she spoke, “I believe I have a better idea than most. Well, assuming you don’t spend all of your time as you do when you’re with me.”

“I should be so fortunate.”

“I believe I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was intended as one. Are you decent yet?”

She laughed again. “You have no idea.”

His laugh was rich, and deep, and so incredibly sexy that she grabbed for the closest hanger to keep from yanking the door open and dragging him into the closet with her. She quickly pulled on a crisply tailored, button-front, sleeveless white sundress, the full skirt decorated with a lush green and rust floral pattern, knowing something stiffer and more formal would have probably been a far smarter choice, but he had this way of looking at her that made her feel naked anyway, so what did it matter? At least this way she’d be comfortable.

She slipped her feet into matching green, low-heeled sandals, then made an attempt at fixing her hair, but with the mirror on the outside of the door, it was a blind attempt at best. Finally she faced the door, but paused before going out. She took a moment to remind herself why she’d come all the way to New York. She had a dual role here, her first time risking trying to pull off her public job and her private one at the same time. It was vitally important she complete both tasks successfully, and she’d already made a massive error in judgment on one part. Two, actually, if she counted severely underestimating her other opponent, earlier today.

She opened the door, expecting him to be looming on the other side. Instead, she was surprised to find him on the opposite side of the room, looking out at the expansive view of Central Park provided by her penthouse lodging. Of course, it was his very unpredictability that drew her in. Most men of her acquaintance were fairly basic, their motives and intent easily analyzed and determined. Not Finn.

“Nice view,” he said as she walked up behind him.

She’d considered staying on the opposite side of the room, but for her own personal test, and to indicate to him that she wasn’t the least bit affected by him now that she’d been released from her unsavory situation, she’d closed the distance between them.

“I thought it was rather lovely, yes,” she said, then immediately cursed her flawed strategy when he glanced over his shoulder and did a quick head-to-toe rundown that left her feeling slightly flushed and fully stripped.

“Ditto,” he said, leaving her to wonder whether he was referring to the view below or the one standing in front of him. She chose the former, but the continual involuntary flickering of the muscles between her thighs said she hoped otherwise.

“So, about the details of this proposed collaboration,” she began. “Let’s elaborate.” From now on, business would rule the day.

She’d deal with the night when the time came.

He turned to face her. “We’re both here for the same reason.”

She wondered if he knew just how complex her reasons really were. “Continue.”

“You were right earlier. Our adversary—assuming that is who left you in such a…bind, earlier, and is who I think it is—is a challenging one.”

Her lips curved in a wry smile. “To say the least.”

“So, it follows, that if we combine our skill sets and collective knowledge, we might prove a more formidable opponent than we would individually.”

“Exactly my thinking on the matter. However, in keeping with your request for honesty, given how my last encounter turned out, are you certain you want me as a partner?”

His blue eyes twinkled. “Let’s just say you do more for blue silk than I do.”

Now her eyes widened. “So, you think I’m going to barter myself for—”

His gaze darkened. “No, that’s not what I meant. I simply meant you’re far more attractive bait in this particular scenario. Once our fish is hooked, we can proceed in any manner of directions, none of which will require you to—”

“Dip?”

“Right. In fact, I’d have a little problem if you felt otherwise.”

“Then we’re square on that. But it should also be stated that my appearance obviously didn’t get me very far last time. Not that I’d banked on it.”

Finn grinned. “Then the man must have other proclivities. Or he’s dead from the waist down.”

She did smile a bit at that. “Perhaps he simply has more discipline and an ability to stay focused on the prize.”

Finn’s gaze narrowed down so tightly on hers she thought she could feel him touching her. Everywhere.

“I suppose it would depend on your definition of ‘prize.’”

She could have sworn her heart rate tripled. “You of all people should know I’m no prize.”

He gave a little involuntary shudder, and she knew he was remembering the clams. She did feel badly about that, but she’d more than apologized back in Prague. And, had she to do it over again, though she’d try to be less punitive, if push came to shove, the job always came first and she’d do whatever she had to do. Bad clams included.

“Regardless of past exit strategies, I think we might complement one another in this particular endeavor.” He gave her another once-over. “Great dress, by the way. Makes your eyes this amazing shade of green.”

There it was again. That offhand sincerity that did odd things to her equilibrium. She was used to meaningless flattery, delivered by men hoping for benevolence from her foundation, or from her directly, of a more personal nature. Either way, it was always a calculated maneuver. It never seemed as such with Finn. When, of all people, it most certainly should.

“Thank you,” she said, finding she meant it. Despite the mischievous and playful side of him that was always near the surface, she knew him to be an honorable man with a highly regarded level of personal integrity. She doubted he’d sink to useless and hollow flattery as a means to get what he wanted. Certainly not from her, at any rate. “But continuing here, given our past, don’t you think there might be a wee problem with trust?”

“We were opponents then.”

“To a degree, we still are. We each want the stone, and there is only one to be had.”

“I only ask for one thing.”

She arched a brow and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Which is?”

“Until the sapphire is in our hands, we operate as a team. No secret maneuvers, no hidden agendas.”

Her whole life was a hidden agenda. Well, half of it anyway. “And when we have the necklace? Then what?”

“See? I like how you think. When, not if.”

“Which doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t have an answer for that. Yet.”

She laughed. “Oh, great. I’m supposed to sign on to help you recover a priceless artifact, in the hopes that when we retrieve it, you’ll just let me have it out of the kindness of your heart? Why would I sign on for that deal?”

He turned more fully and stepped into her personal space. She should have backed up. She should have made it clear he wouldn’t be taking any liberties with her, regardless of Prague. Or Bogota. Or what they’d just done on her bed. Hell, she should have never involved herself with him in the first place. But it was far too late for that regret now.

“Because I found you tied to your own hotel room bed and I let you go. Because you need me.” He toyed with the end of a tendril of her hair. “Just as much, I’m afraid, as I need you.”

“What are you afraid of?” she asked, hating the breathy catch in her voice, but incapable of stifling it.

“Oh, any number of things. More bad clams, for one.”

“Touché,” she said, refusing to apologize again. “So why are you willing to risk that? Or any number of other exit strategies I might come up with this time around? You’re quite good at your job, however you choose to label it these days. Why is it you really want my help? And don’t tell me it’s because you need me to get close to our quarry. You could just as easily pay someone to do that. Someone who he isn’t already on the alert about and whose charms he’s not immune to.”

“Maybe I want to keep my enemies close. At least those that I can.”

“Ah. Now we’re getting somewhere. You think that by working together, you can reduce the chance that I’ll come out with the win this time. I can’t believe you just handed that over to me and still expect me to agree to this arrangement.”

“I said maybe. I also said there were myriad reasons why I think this is the best plan of action. For both of us. I never said it was great, or foolproof. Just the best option we happen to have at this time.”

“Why should I trust you? Why should I trust that you’ll keep to this no-secret-maneuvers, no-hidden-agenda deal? More to the point, why would you think I would? No matter what I stand here and promise you?”

“Have you ever lied to me?”

She started to laugh, incredulous, given their history, then stopped, paused, and thought about the question. She looked at him, almost as surprised by the actual answer as she’d been by the question itself. “No. No, I don’t suppose, when it comes down to it, that I have.” Not outright, anyway. But then, they’d been careful not to pose too many questions of each other, either.

“Exactly.”

“But—”

“Yes, I know we’ve played to win, and we’ve done whatever was necessary to come out on top. No pun intended,” he added, the flash of humor crinkling the corners of his eyes despite the dead seriousness of his tone. “But we’ve never pretended otherwise. And we’ve never pretended to be anything other than what we are.”

“Honor among thieves, you mean.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“I still don’t think this is wise. Our agendas—and we have them, no matter that you’d like to spin that differently—are at cross purposes.”

“We’ll sort out who gets what after we succeed in—”

“Who gets what?” she broke in. “There is only one thing we both want.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Wrong, how? Are you saying there are two priceless artifacts in the offing here? Or that you can somehow divide the one without destroying its value?”

He moved closer still, and her breath caught in her throat. He traced his fingertips down the side of her cheek, then cupped her face with both hands, tilting her head back as he kept his gaze directly on hers. “I’m saying there are other things I want. Things that have nothing to do with gemstones, rare or otherwise.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t so much as swallow. She definitely couldn’t look away. He was mesmerizing at all times, but none more so than right that very second. She wanted to ask him what he meant, and blamed her sudden lack of oxygen for her inability to do so. When, in fact, it was absolute cowardice that prevented her from speaking. She didn’t want him to put into words what he desired.

Because then she might be forced to reconcile herself to the fact that she could want other things, too.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, his gaze dropping briefly to her mouth as he tipped her face closer to his.

Every shred of common sense, every flicker of rational thought she possessed screamed at her to turn him down flat. To walk away, run if necessary, and never look back. But she did neither of those things and was already damning herself even as she nodded. Barely more than a dip of her chin. But that was all it took. Her deal with the devil had been made.

“Good. Then let’s seal it, shall we?”

She didn’t have to respond this time. His mouth was already on hers.