“Acacia, I need to send you back to Geneva. It isn’t safe for you here.”
She gripped his forearm with both hands. “I’m not leaving.”
“You need time to recover from your ordeal.”
“Are you returning to Geneva?”
He exhaled loudly. “No.”
“Then I’m not either.”
Nicholas huffed in her ear but didn’t argue.
“Your mother invited me to see her after I checked out of the hospital. I didn’t respond to her invitation. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I kept your personal details private, but she knows you were kidnapped. She’ll understand you weren’t ready to see people.”
“I didn’t have any clothes. She sent me the outfit I was wearing, along with a bag of brand-new things.”
Nicholas stroked Acacia’s hair. “She cares for you.”
“Does she know you’re here?”
Nicholas gently extricated himself from her grasp and stepped out of the tub. He stood on the bathmat, dripping wet.
He ran his fingers through his hair.
“You’ve ruined your watch.” She pointed to the gold timepiece that sat on his wrist.
He shrugged. “To answer your question, no. My mother doesn’t know I’m here. I’ve been avoiding her calls.”
He unfolded a bath sheet and held his hand out toward her. She took it gratefully.
He wrapped her in the bath sheet and helped her out of the tub. Despite the fact that his clothes were soaked, he took his time toweling her. Then he retrieved a bathrobe from a nearby hook. “We have a lot to discuss, but now is not the time.”
“We can talk tomorrow.”
He made an exasperated noise. “You know why I’m here. I have to see this through.”
She looked up at him. “I love you.”
He tugged at his hair in frustration. “But you know what I’m going to do. You told me you couldn’t stay with me.”
“I’m sorry I left you. That was a mistake.
“I’m probably not well, Nicholas. The doctor is sure I have post-traumatic stress disorder. But somehow I see things much more clearly than before I was kidnapped.”
“And?” he interjected, his eyes guarded.
Acacia was quiet for a moment. But when she spoke, it was from the heart. “I’m not here to prevent you from seeking justice. I want the people who killed your sister to be punished. And I want your family to have their artwork back. I just don’t want you to kill anyone.” Her voice wavered. “I say this as someone who has.”
“Acacia.” He gripped her arms. “Look at me. No one blames you for that. You were trying to escape.”
“But it’s a choice I wish I hadn’t had to make. And I will have to live with that choice for the rest of my life.” She sniffled. “I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stay at your side and work like hell to keep you from making a mistake.”
His eyes bored into hers. “There have been some developments.”
“What happened?”
“We’ll talk more tomorrow. It’s getting late and you should rest.”
She took his hand. “Promise me you won’t do anything until we talk.”
He looked down at her hand. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
“I promise. I’ll get the nurse so she can see to your bandage.” He kissed her forehead and left the room, still soaking wet.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
ACACIA STOOD NEXT TO THE OVERNIGHT BAG Madame Cassirer had packed for her, and held up an elegant nightgown. The gown had a plunging neckline and was made of ivory silk.
Acacia sighed. This was not what she wanted to wear to bed.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she called, hastily placing the nightgown on top of the bag.
Nicholas peered around the edge of the door. “What did the nurse say?”
Acacia waved him inside the room. “She said the wound is beginning to heal. I still have to be careful. I’m still taking antibiotics.” Acacia frowned. “She reminded me that antibiotics render birth control pills inert.”
When Nicholas didn’t comment, she cast the nightgown a baleful look. “I don’t have anything to wear to bed.”
“I thought my mother packed a bag.” Nicholas looked around until he spied the luggage.
“She packed that.” Acacia pointed to the gown. “It’s lovely, but inappropriate.”
Nicholas’s expression tightened when he saw the ivory silk. “I see.”
“Can I borrow one of your shirts?”
Nicholas turned to look at her. “Of course.” He crossed to the wardrobe and opened it. He went through the hanging clothes and finally settled on a pale blue dress shirt. He brought it to her. “Here.”
“Thank you.” She gathered the shirt to her chest, surreptitiously inhaling the scent that lifted to her nostrils.
“I came to say good night.” Nicholas stood next to her.
“I thought this was your room.”
“It is. I thought you’d want space.”
Her forehead crinkled. “I want space. I just want you to be in that space.”
He grinned. “All right. I’m going to be working late, so don’t wait up. But I’ll join you later on.”
“Thank you.” She reached up to kiss him, and he kissed her back.
His kisses, however, were restrained.
“Sleep well,” he whispered.
She watched his retreating back as he walked to the door.
“Acacia, wake up.” Nicholas’s voice invaded her darkness. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder.
Acacia opened her eyes and blinked against the light that shone from the nightstand.
Nicholas raised himself up on an elbow and leaned over her. “You were speaking Arabic and groaning.”
“What was I saying?” She lifted a hand to block out some of the light.
“I don’t know.” He smiled patiently. “I don’t know Arabic, but you sounded upset.”
“I was back in Morocco.” She covered her face with her hands, and a shiver passed over her.
Gently, Nicholas pulled her hands away from her face. “You aren’t in Morocco. You’re in Finland. And you’re safe.”
Impulsively, she tugged on his arm and drew him atop her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice thick. He held himself over her, shifting his weight to his forearms.
“I miss you.” She gazed up at him, at the face that had become so dear to her—a face she had thought she might never see again.
He stroked her hair. “Ma choute. My beautiful, brave girl.”
“I don’t feel very brave. I feel small and scared.”
“But you aren’t.” He spoke forcefully. “It’s natural to feel frightened, but you’re strong and determined. Even Rick is in awe of you.”
Acacia rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t going to bring me to you. I told him to let me out of the car and I’d find my own way.”
“See? I’ve seen men quake in their boots on the receiving end of one of Rick’s glares. You almost reduced him to tears.”
“He needs a good cry. It releases tension.”
Nicholas laughed and brought their foreheads together. “A woman who wasn’t brave couldn’t laugh in such situations. And you make me laugh, when I’ve gone years without any mirth at all.”
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Nicholas cupped her face with both hands, taking care to avoid the bruise on her left cheek.
Acacia could read his hesitation. But she also saw love, shining in his eyes.
He stroked her jaw. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I regret giving you an ultimatum.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he vowed. “But tonight, at least, you’re mine.?
??
“You have my heart, Nicholas. I don’t want it back.”
He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her tentatively.
She touched the back of his neck and opened her mouth.
Nicholas would not be rushed. He pecked at her lips at an unhurried pace before swiping his tongue across her lower lip.
Acacia reacted hungrily.
Nicholas gently entered her mouth and savored her tongue.
Her fingertips glided to his shoulders and across the strong muscles of his back. Nicholas hadn’t worn a shirt to bed and as usual, his skin was warm. She was grateful for his heat.
“My shirt looks good on you,” he murmured as his lips dropped to her neck. He kissed the indentation at her throat before he nudged the placket aside, exposing the tops of her breasts.
“I missed your scent,” she said shyly.
He lifted his head and gave her a blinding smile.
Her fingers moved to his shirt and removed it, exposing her breasts.
Nicholas gazed down in appreciation. He touched her nipples, his eyes moving to hers for approval.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He continued fondling her and bent to kiss the tops of her breasts.
Her hands moved to his lower back, and she traced his spine. He responded by taking one of her nipples into his mouth.
Pleasure, sweet and raw, filled her.
Nicholas took his time. He murmured his appreciation against her skin and used his skillful tongue and lips to build the joy within her.
Then he kissed his way down the center of her body to the edge of her underwear.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and stilled him. “I just want you inside me.”
He regarded her carefully. “We’ll use a condom, but remember the nurse said your birth control pills aren’t working right now.”
“I don’t care.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Okay.” He left the bed, walked into the bathroom, and switched on the light.
Acacia could hear a drawer open and close.
Nicholas padded back to the bed, offering her the glorious view of his almost-naked body, clad only in blue boxer shorts.
He removed the shorts and opened the condom as he stood next to the bed.
She watched, eager with anticipation, as he rolled on the prophylactic.
Then he was next to her on the bed, his hand on her abdomen. “Wouldn’t you rather be on top?”
“Not tonight. I like how you feel on top of me.”
Nicholas looked at his hand. His face grew troubled.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, suddenly worried.
“I don’t want you to feel trapped or anxious.” His eyes met hers.
“I’m not broken, Nicholas. I’m just bruised.”
He winced and reached for her cheek, his thumb hovering over the place her father had struck her.
“How can you love me?” Nicholas whispered.
“How could I not?” She gripped his wrist and squeezed. “I see you as you are, but I also see you as you will become. I think you saw the same spark in me, even when I was hiding who I was.”
“Nothing could hide your spark. It was one of the first things that drew me to you.”
“And nothing could hide your commitment to justice. You came to my aid even when you were suspicious of me, back at the hotel.”
He kissed her reverently. “How about side by side?”
“As long as you’re holding me.”
“Of course.” He kissed her deeply and wrapped his arms around her. Their lower bodies moved toward one another.
Acacia threw her leg over his hip, and he brought his hand to her backside. Their chests pressed together, and Nicholas sought her eyes.
She smiled.
He engaged her slowly and when he was fully seated within her, he closed his eyes.
She could see the emotion on his face. It was beautiful.
They began to move together, a gentle rhythm that slowly increased in pace. In time their desire outstripped their restraint, and they moved more quickly.
“This is worth fighting for,” he groaned.
“Yes.”
Acacia’s hand slid to Nicholas’s backside as she urged him forward. Then she arched her neck as her orgasm raced through her.
Nicholas continued to thrust, his movements jerky and rapid. Without warning, he stilled within her and buried his face against her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She felt as if she were floating, her body finally relaxed.
Nicholas kissed her neck. “Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you.”
“I’m just happy to be back in your arms.”
Nicholas pulled back so he could see her eyes. “Your love is a gift. I promise I won’t take it for granted.”
Acacia closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, after breakfast, Nicholas and Acacia sat in a brightly lit sunroom on the ground floor. Acacia curled up on the sofa with a cup of coffee, and Nicholas sat across from her in a chair.
His laptop rested on the table nearby, along with a large green box. He opened the box to reveal two matching gold watches.
He retrieved the women’s watch. “After you were kidnapped, I realized that locating you would have been easier if you’d worn a tracking device. You don’t have to accept this, but my team has suggested we both wear them. If, for someone reason, we’re separated, we will always be able to find one another.”
Acacia didn’t hesitate. She held out her arm, and Nicholas slipped the watch over her wrist. He fastened it carefully.
“I wasn’t sure you’d accept it,” he murmured, slipping the men’s watch on his own wrist.
“My perception of the world is somewhat altered.” She touched the Rolex in wonder. “No one would know by looking at it that it has a tracking device.”
“Exactly.” He clasped his hands together. “As I mentioned last night, there have been some developments. I was able to uncover the name of Yasmin’s ex-boyfriend. My people hacked his security system and accessed the video feed from inside his house. We’ve been monitoring him. But I’m sure he has his own hackers who are now hunting mine.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means time is running out. Either he knows we’ve hacked him and he’s trying to uncover the identities of the hackers, or he will soon. We have surveillance near the house. The Russian isn’t there. My team is waiting for him to return.”
“What will they do when he returns?”
“They’ll go in after dark, disarm him and his men, and secure the art. Then I’ll go in.”
“Do you know for sure he has your artwork?”
Nicholas shook his head. “Not without examining it in person. I’m relying on Yasmin’s testimony, along with what I’ve been able to uncover about the Russian’s taste for expensive art.
“Through the video feed, I’ve been able to see inside his vault. What appears to be our Degas is visible. Some of the items are covered or positioned behind other objects, so I can’t be sure what he has. We pulled stills from the video, and I’m having them analyzed.”
“Can I look at them?”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I can rest and look at photographs.”
“Then be my guest.” Nicholas retrieved his laptop and opened a few files. He handed it to Acacia.
She clicked through a series of black and white screenshots of what she presumed was the vault inside the Russian’s house. It matched what she could remember of Yasmin’s description—piles of art and artifacts crowded into a room. She saw elephant tusks, what looked like a gold Fabergé egg, and the Degas drawing.
Acacia gasped. She point
ed to a painting that hung on the wall, to the left of the elephant tusks. “Is that…?”
Nicholas’s face was grim. “That’s the missing Matisse from the Musée d’Art Moderne. I’ve been searching for the original for years. Now I know who has it.”
“Have you told the BRB?”
“Not yet. If I’m able to secure it, I’ll hand it over to the Minister of the Interior. I won’t even involve the BRB.”
“Why not?”
“If they were to take over the recovery, they’d have to work with the Russians. Serge Kuznetsov, Yasmin’s ex-boyfriend, seems to have paid off every high-ranking law enforcement official in Moscow. He’s untouchable.”
“What about the Russian bureau of Interpol?”
Nicholas shifted in his seat. “I have a contact in that office. They are suspicious of Kuznetsov and his activities, but they haven’t had any evidence linking him to art theft.”
“What about these photos?” Acacia tapped the screen of the laptop.
“I haven’t shared them, since they’re the product of an illegal hack.” Nicholas pointed at his computer. “Look at the rest.”
Acacia clicked through images of a palatial estate and its interior. A few of the photographs showed armed guards and dogs patrolling the grounds.
She clicked on another photograph and gasped. “What are these?”
Nicholas looked at the screen. “Weapons. Grenades. Ammunition. Bombs.”
“Why does he have a stockpile of weapons?”
“He’s probably dealing them.”
“And the Russian police don’t care?”
Nicholas’s expression tightened. “They probably don’t know. But again, I uncovered evidence that Kuznetsov has been bribing officials. Perhaps they’re looking the other way.”
Acacia closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table. “After you have the artwork, what will you do?”
“I’ll punish the collector and find out where his Bosnian team is. Then I’ll go after them.”
“Why haven’t you told your parents about this?”
Nicholas frowned. “I don’t want them involved.”
“You don’t want them involved because you know part of what you’re doing is wrong.”