Page 2 of Everlasting

  She looked around for a clock and was immedi­ately struck by the strangeness of her surround­ings. Oh, Lord! She bolted upright, swinging her legs to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go to sleep." She brushed unruly curls away from her cheeks, saying impulsively, "I haven't had much rest in the last few days and ..." She drew a deep breath. This was ridiculous. She was acting like a frightened child. She straightened with royal dig­nity and lifted her chin. "How do you do, Mr. Damon. I'm Princess Kira Rubinoff."

  "You'll forgive me if I don't stand and bow, Prin­cess Rubinoff," Zack Damon said in a lightly teasing tone, "but I've had a rather tiring day myself." He stretched his long legs out before him. He had taken off his black tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt but was still dressed in the tux­edo he had worn at the gala. "I assure you I had no intention of committing lese majesty."

  She made a face. She'd probably sounded as stiff-necked as Stefan, she thought ruefully. "Insult this royal person in that way all you please. I'm afraid that whenever I get flustered, I fall back on those pompous manners drilled into me from birth. Please call me Kira. Everyone does." She smiled. "Besides, economically speaking, you're far more royal than I'll ever be. I have a wardrobe allowance, but little else. Stefan keeps me a virtual pauper."

  He lifted a brow. "Really? I had no idea Tamrovia was so poverty-stricken. Is the purpose of your visit to enlist foreign aid?"

  "Foreign aid . . . well, yes. In a funny way, I guess that is why I'm here." Her smile faded and her gaze narrowed thoughtfully. "You know who I am. I wouldn't have thought you would. There are so many princesses running around Europe these days."

  "But you're an exceptionally newsworthy princess. It isn't every princess who dances in Rome's Trevi Fountain at midnight."

  "I wasn't dancing in it," she said indignantly. "The paparazzi misrepresented the episode. Actu­ally, when I tossed my coin in the fountain I was so furious that I made a horribly bloodthirsty wish against someone who was annoying me at the time. Then I had second thoughts and decided he didn't really deserve such punishment."

  "So you tried to get your coin back and undo the curse?"

  "Well, I didn't want to take chances. You never can tell what works and what doesn't."

  "No?" There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Were you also trying to undo a curse when you pushed the Spanish pretender to the throne off the dock at Corfu?"

  "Hm-m. It seemed an effective way to get his pudgy hands off my body and keep them off. He appeared to be intent on adding this princess's scalp to his belt." She closed her eyes. "Oh, dear, I shouldn't have said that, should I? I didn't mean to cast aspersions on your Indian heritage. So much for the foreign aid." She heard a deep chuckle and her eyes flicked open. "Thank heaven you have a sense of humor,"

  "I'm serious about my heritage, not fanatic." He smiled faintly. "You'd be a most desirable prize whether you were a princess or not. I can't say I like the literal image of your scalp dangling from a war­rior's belt, though."

  Kira felt oddly breathless. There was something . . . She breathed deeply. "I assure you that Jose wouldn't have wanted the scalp—or anything else—if I didn't have the title. I didn't realize that my escapades had been so well publicized in the States." She shrugged. "Maybe it's because I went to college here. Well, all of that business with foun­tains and docks took place when I was much younger. I'm not so impulsive anymore."

  "I'm glad old age has tempered you," he said sol­emnly. "You're how old now? Twenty-two or twenty-three?"

  "Twenty-three," she said, frowning. "Your news­papers seem to be very informative."

  "Not really. There was actually very little regard­ing your background. You're Princess Kira Rubinoff, your parents are dead, and you're under the guardianship of your brother, King Stefan of Tamrovia. You have another brother, Lance, who lives in Sedikhan and is an extremely gifted artist. I have a few of his paintings, by the way."

  "Isn't he wonderful? He painted a few portraits of me when I was a child, but hasn't used me as a subject since then. He says he's waiting until I've set.' " She wrinkled her nose. "Makes me sound about as appealing as watery Jell-O."

  "You seem to be quite fond of him." His eyes nar­rowed. "Why didn't you ask him for help? I under­stand he's very well off."

  "He's closely linked to Alex Ben Raschid, the ruler of Sedikhan. I can't involve Sedikhan in my problems again. The last time I nearly caused a diplomatic incident. I'm trying to keep the knowl­edge of this mess from everyone in Sedikhan." She nibbled at her lower lip. "It's not entirely a financial problem. That wasn't what I meant."

  "This sounds intriguing," he said slowly. "Or it would if I had any idea what you were talking about. Suppose you clarify matters by telling me just why you've decided to pay me a visit at this unusual hour."

  "Weil, I couldn't be sure of being able to contact you at any other time or place. I figured since you were in Tucson, you'd stay a day or two to conduct business." She gestured vaguely. "You have gold mining interests or something here, don't you?"

  He wondered what the board members of the gigantic Shaman Copper Company would say to such an offhand reference. "Or something. It seems you've done a little research on my humble enterprises."

  She gave a distinctly unladylike snort at that bla­tant understatement. "I looked you up in the library. I had to find some way of tracking you down. You're an elusive man, Mr. Damon. And Marna was no help at all."

  He went still. "Marna?"

  She gave a sigh of relief. "You remember Marna? I was afraid you'd forgotten her, and that would have blown everything. It's been so many years."

  "No. I remember Marna Debuk very well."

  "She said you would, but then she clammed up on me." She ran her fingers distractedly through her curls. "I've seen her be maddeningly inscruta­ble with other people, but never with me."

  There was hurt as well as bewilderment in her expression and Zack had a sudden Impulse to cross the space between them and take her in his arms to comfort her. His hands on the arms of the chair tightened until his knuckles showed white.

  Not yet. "She loves you very much. I'm sure if she thought it best to—"

  She impatiently held up her hand. "I know. I know. It's just that I'm so worried about her. I need all the help I can get, and she picks a time like this to become mysterious."

  "I think you'd better start at the beginning."

  "Am I being incoherent?" She grimaced. "It's one of my worst faults. Verbal chaos." She bit her lower lip. "The beginning. I don't have any idea how much you already know. Blast Marna, anyway."

  "The beginning," he repeated softly.

  "Well, you do know Marna is a Gypsy and a mem­ber of one of the largest tribes in Tamrovia. It's a long-established custom for a member of her tribe to serve in the royal household in each generation. Marna became my nursemaid when I was born and has been with me ever since." Her expression sof­tened. "My parents and Stefan never had much time for me and Lance was in Sedikhan, so there was really only Marna. She was everything I needed or wanted."

  "That's quite an accolade."

  "She's quite a woman." Uneasy, Kira hesitated. Quite an unusual woman. She has certain ..."

  "Powers," he suggested softly.

  Her breath came out in a little rush. "You know about that?"

  "I know that she told me she could work spells and sometimes see what others could not."

  "And you believed her?"

  "My grandfather was a shaman and I spent a good deal of my childhood alone with him in the hills. I know that power exists."

  "That simplifies things a bit. I could see myself quite futilely trying to explain about Mama's pow­ers. Well, anyway, my brother Stefan is a bit of a chitka."

  "Chitka?"

  "Sorry. It's a Tamrovian word. It means fool or idiot. Stefan decided when I was sixteen that I should make a marriage of state, and he tossed me to the lions, or rather to the title hunters. He forced me into contact with every head of s
tate and power­ful tycoon in the world."

  "Not every tycoon," Zack corrected quietly.

  "If you hadn't been hiding in the mountains playing Howard Hughes, I can assure you that you would have topped Stefan's list. Stefan was very determined." Her lips tightened. "But so was I."

  "Hence, the Corfu dock incident?"

  She nodded. "Marna and I managed very well at first. Sometimes it was almost amusing. Then, last year, Stefan got impatient with the game and decided to end it. He imprisoned Marna to pres­sure me to give in."

  "Rather a drastic solution. Don't you have a habeas corpus law in Tamrovia?"

  She shook her head. "It's an absolute monarchy. Stefan claimed she was aiding me by casting harmful spells on prospective suitors."

  He lifted a brow. "And was she?"

  She shrugged. "Nothing very important. Maybe a minor rash now and then." She bristled. "And they deserved it."

  "I'm sure they did."

  "Well, naturally I couldn't just leave her in prison. Clancy Donahue, Chief of Security of Sedikhan, and I broke her out and smuggled her across the border to Sedikhan."

  "I've heard of Donahue. I once tried to hire him as head of my security force."

  She shook her head. "Clancy would never leave Alex Ben Raschid or Sedikhan."

  "I found that out. Pity. He's a remarkable man. Go on. I gather your troubles weren't over when you reached Sedikhan."

  "They should have been, but Marna was misera­bly unhappy in Sedikhan. She has very close ties to her tribe and she missed her people. So I went back and tried to pacify Stefan."

  "Pacify?" All humor vanished from his face. How?"

  "I thought if I was pleasant to some of the men Stefan wanted me—"

  "Pleasant." The word was razor sharp. "Is that a euphemism for sleeping with them?"

  Her eyes widened with surprise. "Of course not. I told you, those kinds of men really were interested only in my title. I'm not exactly a sex symbol, you know."

  She honestly believed what she said, Zack real­ized. She didn't know that her extraordinary vital­ity alone was a sexual draw. "I'm afraid I forgot," he drawled while wondering how a woman in her position could have remained so damned naive.

  "Well, it isn't important. It didn't work out any­way. I'm not very docile and things happened . . ."

  He was sure he would be fascinated to know about those "things," but at the moment he needed to get her to the crux of the story. "And?"

  "I returned to Sedikhan to wait for Stefan's ternper to cool. I was going to try again, but Marna was impatient. She wanted to see her people, if only for a visit. So I smuggled her back across the border into Tamrovia."

  "Quite a busy border."

  "It's not amusing. Stefan had men waiting at the Gypsy camp when we got there." She frowned. "I don't know how he knew that we'd be there. No one in Sedikhan would have betrayed us."

  "So Marna is in prison again?"

  "She's under guard in an apartment close to mine at the palace. Stefan thought it would be more difficult for me to bribe the palace guards." She added dryly, "Not that I would have had the money to do it."

  "So that's the present situation?"

  She hesitated. "That's not quite all of it. About six months ago Stefan appointed a new adviser, Sandor Karpathan. I think he might be manipu­lating Stefan by pitting us all against each other to further his own ends."

  "Why do you think that?"

  "I don't know. He's always very polite and charm­ing. It's just that there's something—"

  "Woman's intuition?"

  "Woman's judgment," she corrected. "Besides, Marna doesn't trust him."

  "Ah, the final condemnation." He held up his hand as she opened her lips to protest. "I'm not mocking you or Marna, Kira. I believe in instincts. I've relied on my instincts all of my life. Is Kar­pathan the principal reason for this sudden urgency?"

  She nodded. "I was nearly frantic. He frightens me. I didn't know what to do. Then Marna sent for me and told me about you."

  His stillness took on charged tension. "Really? What did she tell you?"

  "Not nearly enough," she said crossly. "Only that when you were a boy in your teens you traveled with her tribe one summer. She said she'd met you when she'd left the palace and gone back to the car­avan to nurse her mother for a few months. I understand she's kept track of you through the years, she feels strongly that if anyone can get her out of Tamrovia, it will be you. She said you and a man named Nick O'Brien went into Said Ababa right after the revolution and freed some of your employees who were being held hostage. Is that right?"

  He nodded. "But a war torn country is a good deal easier to manipulate than a stable govern­ment like Tamrovia."

  Her eyes were suddenly wide with fear. "Does that mean you won't—" She stopped. "She sent you a message. I have no idea what it means, but she said you would. She said to tell you it was the

  time of the mondava."

  His heart skipped a beat and then started to pound so hard he felt a little dizzy. He had to strug­gle to keep his face expressionless. "Mondava is a Tamrovian word. I learned only a little Tamrovian that summer. You should know better than I what it means."

  "It means 'the bonding.' "

  He shook his head. "Not quite. In Mama's dialect it means the 'forever bonding' or the 'everlasting bonding.' "

  Her eyes lit with sudden interest. "You do know what she was trying to tell you."

  "Yes, I know."

  She waited eagerly. Then, when he failed to elab­orate, she grimaced. "But you're not going to tell me either, are you?"

  "Perhaps if you wait a little longer, I won't have to tell you."

  "Damn, now you're being as cryptic as Marna. I hate to wait." She jumped to her feet, walked across the room, and stood restlessly beside the fireplace. "I can't bear double-talk. It drives me out of my mind. Are you going to help Marna or not?"

  "Just what are you asking of me? Do you want money?"

  "I don't know. I suppose it will take money. You should know better than I, considering your expe­rience in Said Ababa." Her hand closed tightly on the oak edge of the mantel. "I want her out of Tamrovia and safe, and I don't want this to happen ever again."

  "How much do you really care?"

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I care more about her than about anything in the world. I love her so very much."

  He was silent a moment, his gaze fixed on her face. "What did Marna say to you when she sent you to me?"

  "She said you were a disek, one of the excep­tional ones." She hesitated and then added slowly, "She said I should put myself in your hands, do whatever was necessary to bring you to Tamrovia."

  "And just what do you intend to do?"

  "Exactly what she told me to do," she said simply.

  His lips twisted. "You're very meek and obedient all of a sudden. And you're making a total commit­ment."

  "Don't you think I know that? I'm scared to death you're going to ask me to hijack a plane or something. You're a complete stranger to me."

  "Yet you're willing to Obey blindly a woman who hasn't set eyes on me for over fifteen years."

  "I've trusted Marna all my life. She wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I've got to hang on to that certainty."

  His gaze forthrightly met hers. "What you're ask­ing will be very difficult. It will take money and time. I have quantities of the former and absolutely none of the latter. I'm in the middle of a merger. It just may go down the drain if I neglect it during this crucial period."

  Her lips drooped with disappointment. "You're not going to help me."

  "A faulty conclusion, Kira. I'm merely stressing he point that if I make certain sacrifices, I'll expect

  compensation."

  She shook her head. "I told you I don't have any money."

  "But you do have something else I want."

  The title? You want to marry me and have a princess to add to your status?" She felt a sudden jolt of disappointment. Somehow she
hadn't

  expected such a superficial response from Damon.

  "All right, but I—"

  "Not the damn title," he said harshly. "Why the hell do you think that's all there is to you? I don't need to marry a princess to show the world I've made it. J know I've made it, and that's all that counts."

  She should have realized. She would have real­ized it if she'd thought for a moment instead of reacting immediately. "I'm sorry." She smiled shakily. "I seem to be apologizing a good deal tonight. I didn't mean to make you angry."

  "You didn't make me angry. 1 guess it was natu­ral for you to think that of me." His eyes narrowed on her face. "I suppose your brother Stefan would consider me beyond the pale as far as bloodlines go. I know nothing about my father, except that he was a white man. It was the only thing my mother would tell my grandfather about him."

  "You're probably right about Stefan," she said frankly. "I told you he was a chitka. But your money would endow you with a very tolerable patina in his eyes. What difference does it make? You said you didn't want to marry a princess anyway."

  "Yes, I did, didn't I?" He rose to his feet. "But I said nothing about not wanting to take Kira Rubinoff to bed. Do you think Stefan would object if you took me as a lover?"

  She gazed at him blankly. "Sex?" She didn't know how she got the word out. Her throat had closed and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. "You want to have sex with me?"

  He slowly shook his head. "I want to be your lover. I want to sleep in the same bed you do; I want you to let me make love to you whenever and how­ever I wish, for as long as it pleases me." His voice

  lowered to a velvet softness. "I believe I can guaran­tee it will please you as much as it will please me." She didn't doubt it for a minute. Sexual magnet­ism radiated from Zack Damon in an almost visi­ble aura. She felt a languid heat begin to flow through her at just the thought of his intimate touch. "Why?"

  He smiled. "I don't believe a woman has ever asked me that question when I asked her to go to bed with me. The answer seems self-evident. How­ever, I can make it much clearer, if you like."

  She moistened her lower lip with her tongue. We've just met. I'm not unattractive, but I don't exactly exude feminine allure, either. You're will­ing to jeopardize a merger to go to bed with me?" She shook her head in bewilderment. "I don't understand this." His rare smile widened to warm his dark face. Perhaps I have peculiar tastes. You happen to appeal to me very much, and I can afford to let the merger slide. You had no problem at all believing I would want to marry you for status, and you agreed to that without a second thought. Why are you having a problem with the idea of being my mistress? The position would be much more advantageous for you. You'd have your freedom and still get what you want from me."