The Forever Dream

  "I don't doubt it. A woman who can climb up and down a mountain in a snowstorm has very impressive credentials."

  "Well, it was very small, as snowstorms go. But it was a very large mountain." She chuckled. "You're right, though, my credentials are impeccable."

  He opened the front door and stepped aside for her to enter. "Give it up, Tania. I'm not as much afraid of the security boys hurting you as I am of your doing something foolish and hurting yourself."

  "You think I'll fall off your mountain, perhaps? I'm a ballerina, remember? We're very sure on our feet." She darted him a barbed glance. "And I make it a practice not to do anything foolish. Which is more than I can say for you, Ryker. Kidnapping is considered very foolhardy by most individuals."

  "I told you I had nothing to do . . ." He shrugged resignedly. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you'd mellow overnight. So much for the sweet council of sleep.

  "Much too much to hope, Ryker. I'm exactly of the same mind as I was last night." She glanced at him over her shoulder as she walked to the center of the foyer. "By the way, what's your favorite color?"

  "Color?"

  "What's your favorite color? You must have one. Everyone does."

  He frowned. "I've never thought about it. I guess I have a preference for bright colors. Why?"

  "Nothing." She started toward the breakfast room. "Just curious, Ryker. Just curious."

  The tangerine gown would not only be considered bright, but brilliant, and it was certainly the most seductive garment Tania had ever worn offstage. Made of chiffon so soft and sheer it was like petals drifting about her, the gown dung and undulated with every step and every breath she took. She cast a rueful glance down at the neckline, which plunged to the waist before being caught in a matching tangerine cummerbund. She'd have to be very careful of those breaths or she'd come out of the gown entirely. Her hair was in its usual lustrous braid, and she fastened it with her own diamond star. It was quite remiss of Ryker not to supply her with a fresh selection of jewels to go along with the fabulous wardrobe that had arrived this afternoon. She grinned at the thought. She'd have to speak to him about that, she decided as she hurried toward the staircase.

  The crystal chandelier glowed softly at this late hour. Sweeping down the last few steps to the broad foyer, Tania could imagine that she was going to a glittering ball in the long-ago past instead of a rendezvous with Ryker.

  Actually, rendezvous wasn't the right word. It implied collusion on the parts of both parties, and this meeting was entirely her idea. By discreet questioning of McCord at dinner, she'd learned that Ryker could usually be found in the library poring over a weighty tome into the wee hours. She'd waited to leave her room until after midnight so she could be sure he'd be alone. No, "rendezvous" definitely wasn't the word for it: "Stalking Ryker" was a more appropriate description of her maneuver.

  She drew a deep, steadying breath as she paused outside the cream double doors of the library. She'd never done anything like this before, and for a moment a quiver of uncertainty went through her. But she staunchly repressed that small self-doubt, assuring herself there was nothing to be apprehensive about. This was just another role to play, just another move to be made in the battle with Ryker. She threw open the library doors, flamboyantly entering the room and drawing the doors closed behind her, breasts thrust forward, head held high as her hands lingered on the doorknobs at her back.

  Ryker was lounging in a Queen Anne chair across the room, his feet propped up on the matching ottoman. He was still casually dressed in the dark cords and

  hunter-green turtleneck sweater he'd worn at dinner. His expression as he looked up from his book to gaze at her with lingering thoroughness was curiously enigmatic. "Very beautiful. You should have given me some warning and I'd have dressed for the occasion."

  "That's what McCord said. He didn't like being caught off-guard, either." Ryker smiled. "He told me about your foray into the sauna. He was irritated that you'd rattled him like that." He paused. "However, I can't say that your appearance tonight is exactly a surprise. I was expecting a skirmish. I just wasn't expecting you in such full and potent battle regalia."

  "You were expecting me?"

  He shrugged. "I've studied your expressions a great deal over the past two weeks. I ought to recognize that air of repressed excitement about you at dinner." He smiled. "It's exactly the same look you have the split second before you execute one of those grand jetés with such exceptional elevation. What does one call that ability to rise so lightly, to hold position in the air?"

  She drifted toward him, the brilliant panels of her gown floating about her. "Ballon. It's a special quality of elevation—and it applies equally to the way a dancer lands. If one has ballon she comes down softly, smoothly." She stopped before him and fluttered a panel of her gown. "Is this bright enough for you, Ryker?"

  "Yes, it's bright enough," he said, his gaze on the neckline. "What there is of it. It's quite a change from the slacks and sweater you wore at dinner."

  "I admit I thought about wearing it for dinner. But I decided there'd be no purpose to it. It would have much more impact on you when we were alone."

  "And that's the purpose, I assume."

  "But of course," she said, and punctuated her words

  with a throaty laugh. "After going over the chateau's defenses, I decided it might take awhile longer to escape than I'd thought. It was only practical to initiate plan two." With one swift movement she was on his lap. "Would you like to kiss me, Ryker?"

  He inhaled sharply, and she could feel his muscles stiffen against her. "Stinging nettles, Tania?"

  "Stinging nettles." She nestled closer and brushed her lips in the lightest of caresses on the plane of his jaw. Do you like this perfume? I don't remember the name of it, but I thought it was quite seductive when I sprayed on."

  "Quite seductive."

  The scent of her hair was delicately, pungently oral, and he found it more heady than a heavier perfume could ever be, as she rubbed her cheek back d forth against his shoulder like a sinuous little cat. he felt as boneless as a cat, too, as she curled even closer to him. He carefully kept his expression bland, but he couldn't keep the knowledge of his body's arousal m her.

  Her response was a triumphant smile as her arms curved around his neck. She brought his head down so that his lips met her own. It was a light, teasing kiss, and, like her perfume, its very delicacy made it the more tantalizing.

  His lips opened hungrily to take more of her, his arms slipping around her back to pull her tight to his chest.

  She drew back immediately and shook her head. "Oh, no, Ryker. This time I am playing the flute. I set the boundaries, remember?"

  His eyes narrowed. "I remember. Are you going to tell me just what those restrictions are, or am I to find out for myself?"

  "It's very simple," she said, smiling with infinite

  sweetness. "I initiate, you respond." The tip of her tongue teased his lower lip. "But that's all you do. You don't move, or touch, or even kiss me unless I tell you to. How's that for a challenge, Ryker?"

  "Entirely worthy of you, Tania," he said, casting a wry glance over his shoulder at her hand stroking his back. "Also worthy of the torturers of the Spanish Inquisition."

  "But you're so strong and self-disciplined, Ryker." She moved her breasts against him with sinuous grace and heard him catch his breath. "Anyone can see how cool and controlled you are. A little exercise like this shouldn't bother you at all."

  "Shouldn't it? Then something is seriously wrong. It bothers the hell out of me."

  Her laugh was soft, a contented purr. "There you go again, admitting your weaknesses. You should really watch that, Ryker. You're not going to give me any contest at all."

  Her hands slid up to his neck, around and down his chest. She tugged his sweater free from his belt. "I want to touch you. You won't mind sitting very still while I do that, will you?"

  Her hands were exploring the taut muscles of his midri
ff before wandering up his chest to curl playfully in the soft thatch of hair there. Then one of her hands moved to the side. "Your heart is pounding so hard, Ryker. I can feel it jumping against my palm. Are you so excited?"

  He didn't answer. His face was lightly flushed and his body rigid with control.

  Her fingers brushed his tiny nipples before plucking at them with gentle provocation, which caused the drumming of his heart to increase. She felt a slight shudder run through him as her head lifted and her lips searched for his. She continued the gentle plucking

  while she kissed him slowly. She pulled away. The muscles of his forearms were bunched beneath his sweater as his hands closed on the arms of the chair with white-knuckle force.

  "That's right, Ryker, don't touch me. You have to keep your word, you know. If you don't, then I win the game." Her tongue plunged into his mouth with all the erotic skill he'd taught her yesterday. Suddenly her hands left his chest and pulled the sweater down. The next minute she'd slipped off his lap and turned to face him, her eyes glowing with triumph. "Not that I won't win anyway. It's all just a matter of time."

  She could see the pulse throbbing jerkily in his temple, but when he spoke his voice was level. "I gather the exercise is over for tonight?"

  She nodded as she made an effort to steady her breathing so that he wouldn't notice those heated moments hadn't left her as unshaken as her words implied. "For the moment."

  "I'm surprised that you're letting me off so lightly."

  She backed away from him with seeming casualness, wishing now that the chiffon of her bodice wasn't quite so sheer. The thrust of her taut nipples must be clearly visible against the material. "It's just the beginning, the opening scene," she said with a bright smile. "I have to keep something in reserve for the next time." She paused. "And there will be a next time. Are you hurting, Ryker?"

  "Oh, yes, I'm hurting," he said. "Maybe even enough to satisfy you, little Piper. You play a very mean flute."

  "It will get worse," she assured him. "Unless you'd care to send me back to New York."

  "Not a chance. I can take anything you can throw at me, Tania." His lips twisted. "I'm not saying it won't rip the guts out of me, but I'll be able to take it."

  "It's a little early to be so confident," she said, a thread of exasperation in her voice. Though there was no mistaking the fact of Ryker's arousal, her victory wasn't as complete as she would have liked. The man possessed a strength of will that was even greater than she'd imagined. "Tell me that after a week."

  "If you like," he said absently, his gaze narrowed on her face with an absorption that made her a little uneasy. "Your visit should be even more interesting than I first thought."

  "Interesting? Oh, yes, I fully intend to make things interesting, if not entertaining, for you, Ryker."

  "That isn't quite what I meant," he said. "I thought I knew you very well, but I've discovered today that beneath that gamin charm, you're not quite what you seem. You're carrying a defensive shield that I'd wager is hiding all sorts of fascinating secrets. It will be something of a challenge to see if I can't pierce that shield."

  She felt a sudden rush of panic that she was quick to hide. That strength of will was evidently accompanied by a perceptiveness that was frightening. "You'd better prepare to be disappointed." She turned and sailed regally toward the door. "I'm not going to give up, you know," she said over her shoulder. "Not ever. You're going to lose, Ryker. I'll not let any man dominate my life ever again. I have eŕb. I'm the Piper now, and I intend to remain the Piper." The door closed behind her with an emphatic click.

  Jared expelled his breath and got slowly to his feet. He crossed to the small portable bar against the far wall and poured himself a brandy. My God, his hands were shaking! With a deliberate effort he steadied them and drank half the brandy in one swallow. Well, what the hell had he expected? He'd been an inch away from throwing that sexy pixie down on the carpet and raping her.

  Great heavens, she was a tough little bitch. Yet even

  while she was tormenting the hell out of him, he'd been ware of a fugitive admiration for the determination and flawless execution of the moves she'd made tonight. He wasn't sure, however, he'd be able to retain that same attitude if she kept up her campaign, as she almost certainly would.

  He refilled his glass and carried it back to the chair by the fire. Still, it hadn't been a total loss, despite the frustration that was eating at him. She had let something slip before she'd walked out of the room that he had an idea could be a key to the puzzle that was Tania Orlinov. Who was the man who had dominated her so completely that even the thought could arouse such fierce hostility?

  He dropped down into the chair and raised his drink to his lips. He'd try to think about this piece of the puzzle—and not the fever of need she'd stirred in him. He put his head against the high back of the chair. It was going to be a long night, he realized. There was no use going to bed just to lie there thinking of a chiffon-clad siren with the hunting instincts of a tigress on the prowl. He'd stay and fight it out down here, where the brandy was readily available as an aid to forgetfulness.

  And what the hell did eŕb mean? He'd have to get Kevin to work on that in the morning.

  Chapter 6

  “She's done it again." Kevin put the elegant receiver of the French phone back in its cradle and turned to face Jared, who sat in a fireside chair.

  Kevin’s exasperated announcement was met by Jared's amused chuckle.

  "Well, she was due. It's been three full days since the last attempt. What did she try this time?"

  "Just guess who the security guards discovered in the routine search of the utility van at the checkpoint? Tania, of course. She hid in the back in a large cardboard box that normally holds emergency spare parts. Monday afternoon is the time Murphy always drives down to the town in the valley to replenish the supplies for the chateau."

  "That's something of a surprise," Jared said, and grinned. "I thought she'd try the helicopter next. There was a distinctly speculative look on her face when those dispatches were delivered to you a few days ago."

  "I'm glad you're so amused," Kevin said grimly as he crossed the length of the library to drop into a chair across from Jared. "I don't think Betz's security boys are finding it funny. This is her fifth escape attempt in two weeks, Jared. They're getting nervous."

  "You're always telling me how tough and efficient

  Betz's men are. They should have no problem keeping an eye on one fragile ballerina."

  "Fragile, hell!" Kevin's expression was sour. "If you'll remember, that fragile little ballerina lowered herself about fifty feet by a rope from her balcony to the courtyard below one night last week." He ran his hand distractedly through his red hair. "Where the hell did she get hold of a rope?" He scowled. "I don't know why I'm surprised. The way you've let her run all over the chateau, she probably has a stash of everything from picklocks to crowbars."

  "More than likely," Jared agreed, his lips twitching. "I wonder how she managed to smuggle herself into the van? Tania's nothing if not inventive." He lazily stretched out his long legs in front of him. "Is she on her way back to the chateau?"

  Kevin nodded. "She should be here in a few minutes. Murphy was calling on the van's mobile phone as they were 'escorting' her back here. Two of the perimeter guards are riding with her." His expression was suddenly grave. "Can't you convince her to stop these escape attempts, Jared? Edgy men are dangerous."

  Jared's position didn't change, but he stiffened imperceptibly. "Then, you'd better issue tranquilizers to those edgy' men. I'd be very displeased if Tania received even a tiny bruise from one of those nervous gentlemen."

  "Do you think that I wouldn't be displeased too? Good Lord, it's impossible not to like the imp even while she's driving you crazy." He sighed morosely. "The lady has the determination of a pit bull. She's completely incredible. One moment she's laughing and joking and acting as if her stay at the chateau is as much fun as a kid's visit to Dis
neyland and the next she pulls something like this."

  Jared could feel the tension ebb out of him. It wasn't fair to get up-tight with Kevin, who echoed his own anxiety about Tania's safety. It was obvious Kevin had developed a genuine fondness for her in the past weeks. But then, who at the chateau had been able to withstand her gamin charm? She treated even the guards who had recaptured her time after time with a philosophic good nature that resulted in both their baffled amusement and that nervousness Kevin was so concerned about.

  "Well, our charming Mr. Betz will be back on the scene tomorrow and security will be reporting directly to him instead of you."

  "Thank heaven for small favors," Kevin said fervently. "I can't say that Betz is one of my favorite people, but I'll welcome him with open arms." He darted a keen glance at Jared's impassive face. "And I think you will too. You've been as finely drawn as a violin string since Betz delivered his little surprise package to you."

  It was a more accurate simile than Kevin knew, Jared thought wryly. He wasn't only as taut and drawn as a sensitively tuned instrument, but well played by that mischievous pixie who seemed to be dominating all of their lives. Stinging nettles. There was no doubt she'd been the painful irritant she'd warned him she'd be. She was uncanny in finding ways to insinuate herself through his defenses and launch an attack where he was most vulnerable. He'd quickly regretted revealing how her past relationship with Windloe disturbed him. Lately she'd been dropping references to the man with deliberate frequency, watching with narrowed eyes for a reaction. After the first few times he'd carefully guarded against giving her a response, but he couldn't quash the abrasive signs, much less the primitive emotion itself.

  It was one thing to decide clinically that jealousy could have no possible place in the future he'd helped to shape. It was quite another to try to apply it to Tania.

  Just the thought of Windloe with her, his hands cupping her breasts, his tongue . . .

  He shifted restlessly and drew a deep breath, deliberately blocking out the image. He was a civilized, self-disciplined man, not a caveman. The electrifying rage he felt was a primitive impulse that could be sublimated. He'd never experienced jealousy before that dark-haired nymph had entered his life. It was possibly the newness of his reaction that had caught him off-guard and given Tania that minor victory.