The Rogue's Fortune

by Cat Schield

  “I don’t think you should come back.” The words took all her courage to say.

  “What’s wrong? I thought we straightened everything out.”

  “I know. I’m sorry if my behavior was misleading.” She kept her cheek pressed tight to his chest. If she looked into his eyes, she would never get the words out. “I can’t keep seeing you. Every time you walk away I wonder if it’s the last time we’ll be together. Living on the edge of the unknown is what makes you happy. It’s tearing me apart.”

  “Elizabeth.”

  The throb in his voice put a lump in her throat the size of a golf ball. Talking was impossible so she whispered. “Please understand how hard this is for me.”

  “It doesn’t have to be hard. You’ve become important to me.”

  This was a powerful admission coming from Roark. Elizabeth listened to his steady heartbeat and fought to stay strong. “You’ve become important to me, too. That’s why I need to stop seeing you. Before it hurts too much.”

  That was a lie. It already hurt too much. She’d been blindsided when she’d heard that her sister and her family were dead. The pain had been instant and devastating. Losing Roark was like slowly being smothered beneath a pile of stones. The ache was crushing the life from her with each second that ticked by.

  “I don’t want to lose you.” Roark took her face in his hands and searched her eyes.

  She scrutinized him in return, but he’d closed off all emotion. “Please don’t ask me to be your friend.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t compel her facial muscles to produce an emotion she wasn’t feeling. “There’d always be this sexual energy between us that I’d give in to. We’d hook up. In a day or a week, you’d disappear and I’d be left resenting you because you’ll never be happy settling down in New York.”

  “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

  “I know my pattern. It’s why I’d decided to have a baby on my own. I’m always falling for the wrong sort of guy.”

  “Like me.”

  “Like you.”

  Roark would never be domesticated. He had no interest in being part of a traditional family. As a child he’d spent too much time alone. He’d learned about independence, not what it meant to rely on someone. While his brother was content to be a husband and a father, Roark craved adventure. It wasn’t fair to be frustrated with him because she expected too much. But she didn’t have to bang her head against a wall either.

  “So, if I really care about you, I should leave you alone.”

  No. If you really care about me, you should stay in New York and spend the rest of your life making me the happiest woman on earth.

  “Yes, you should leave me alone.”

  Heart breaking, she continued, “The reason for us being together no longer exists.”

  “Then I’ll stay away.” He grazed her forehead with his lips, picked up his jacket and duffel and headed toward her front door.

  Was she making a mistake? He said he didn’t want to lose her, but she’d not given him a chance to tell her where he wanted to take their relationship. She just assumed it wasn’t where she wanted to go. And yet by abandoning her at Thanksgiving when he knew how devastating the holiday would be for her, he’d demonstrated exactly where his priorities lay.

  The guessing game tore at her confidence and reminded her how many times she’d played this same game with herself.

  “Roark…”

  He’d reached the hallway and turned when she spoke his name. His face was granite, but behind in his eyes intense emotions burned. “I would only end up hurting you. I never wanted that. You have to do what’s right for you. Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

  She should be grateful that he was sympathetic to her plight and strong enough to follow through when she would have called him back and repeated her mistakes. But she couldn’t feel happy or even relieved that their relationship had ended cleanly. After such a short time together, her heart should be barely bruised.

  So, why did her chest ache and her eyes burn with unshed tears?

  Because she’d fallen in love him despite all her determination to be smarter this time. And that made her a first-class idiot because his actions had demonstrated that she would always come a distant second to his adventures.

  * * *

  Roark caught a taxi in front of Elizabeth’s apartment and directed it to Waverly’s. This wasn’t how he’d expected his day to end. The lasagna cooking in Elizabeth’s oven made his mouth water and he realized it had been over twelve hours since he’d eaten anything. Food hadn’t seemed important while he was gorging himself on sensual delicacies. With Elizabeth in his arms, nothing else mattered.

  So, why had he let her push him away? His instincts demanded that he stay and fight for her. Walking out her door had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. If not for his decision he’d made after his mother’s death to avoid all romantic entanglements, he might have…

  What?

  She wanted something from him he couldn’t commit to. A family. Security. He wasn’t cut out to settle down and be someone’s everything. Hadn’t he failed his mother? Wasn’t his leaving what had made her heart give out? He swore he’d never get close enough to hurt anyone like that again.

  The taxi let Roark out in front of Waverly’s. This late on a Friday, all of the building’s seven floors were dark except the top one where Waverly’s executives ran the business. He paused before approaching the building. When Vance had first brought him into the Waverly’s fold, Roark had been adamant in his refusal to be tied to an office and a day-to-day routine. But after spending three months in the Amazon, eluding thugs with machine guns, and the troubles over the Gold Heart statue, he no longer perceived Waverly’s as a straightjacket he needed to avoid.

  Kendra Darling pushed open the front door as he neared. She reminded him of Elizabeth. A career woman hiding her femininity behind tortoise-shell glasses, unglamorous pantsuits and professionalism.

  “You’re working late,” he remarked, passing from the chilly November night into the impressive foyer.

  An enormous crystal chandelier cast a soft glow over the classical artwork adorning polished-wood paneling. During the day Waverly’s clients strode along the gold carpet or sat on one of the couches upholstered in rich fabrics that dotted the large space. Tonight, the empty space had a haunted quality.

  “I’m supposed to escort you up as soon as you arrive.” As Ann’s longtime assistant, Kendra was used to dealing with all sorts of tough situations, from unhappy clients to nosy reporters.

  “Ann doesn’t think I can find my own way?”

  “After you refused the car I sent to pick you up, she insisted I make sure you weren’t sidetracked.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Ann wasn’t behind her desk when Kendra gestured him into the CEO’s office. Roark could tell by Ann’s agitated pacing as she wore a path from one tall, narrow window to the next that something was seriously wrong.

  “Where have you been?”

  Great. She was on fire. “Cairo.”

  “How dare you take off without telling me.”

  “I had something I needed to take care of.”

  “Do you know what’s happened?”

  “Fill me in.”

  “His Highness Raif Khouri called. His uncle, Mallik, was left at the altar by his young royal bride.”

  At first relief blasted through him that Darius had succeeded in freeing the woman he loved from her intended’s villainous plot. Annoyance arrived a moment later. If Roark’s connection to this event came to light, it might prove the final nail in the coffin for Waverly’s.

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “He’s blaming all the trouble on the curse that has befallen his family because the Gold Heart statue is missing from the palace.”

  “His uncle’s troubles have nothing to do with their missing statue.”

  “I know that, but Raif is adamant that we produce our statue. He’s
convinced it is the one stolen from the palace.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Then produce it so we can prove that.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the Gold Heart statue’s provenance documents are missing and until I can get them back from the man who stole them, the prince could claim that it’s his and we’d have no proof it wasn’t.”

  Ann gasped. “He’d never do that.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m the one the FBI believes stole the statue.”

  “The reputation of Waverly’s is resting on that statue.” Ann’s voice throbbed with anger and worry.

  “You don’t think I know that?”

  “I need that statue. I’m flying to Rayas next Thursday to meet with His Highness and he’s expecting me to produce the statue. Without it we’ll be ruined.”

  “I’m working on getting the documents back, but it’s not going to happen by next Thursday.”

  Leaving Ann seething with annoyance, Roark passed by Vance’s office on his way back to the elevator and wasn’t surprised to find it dark. Since Charlie had come into his life, Vance’s priorities had shifted. He now put family before business and seemed happy with the new arrangement.

  Was it really that simple?

  Roark jabbed the down button on the elevator. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension, but relief wasn’t in his future. Too much was wrong in his life at the moment.

  Unless he retrieved the missing provenance documents, he had no way of proving that the Gold Heart statue owned by Sheikh Rashid bin Mansour was not the one missing from Rayas’s palace.

  Then there was Darius, who’d stolen a royal bride from Mallik Khouri and was on the run.

  And worst of all, he’d lost the one bright spot in this whole misadventure. Elizabeth. She’d sent him packing, and he had no idea how to change her mind. Nor was he sure he should even try. She deserved to be happy and if being with him made her miserable, he should put her feelings first and let her be. Unfortunately, every fiber of his being rejected that as the worst idea he’d ever had.

  As he was leaving Waverly’s, his phone rang. It was Smith.

  “Got them,” the former marine said.

  Relief rushed through Roark. “They okay?”

  “Fine.” Behind Smith were the sounds of laughter and conversation. “We’ll be in New York by tomorrow.”

  “Bring them to the loft. They can stay here until we can make sure Fadira is safe from her father and Khouri.”

  Roark caught a cab and headed to the apartment Darius and Sabeen shared. She would be anxious for word about her brother and Roark wanted to talk to her about what she’d done to Elizabeth.

  “Your brother and Fadira are safe and heading to New York,” Roark said when Sabeen opened the door.

  With a cry she hugged him. “I’ve been so worried.”

  And Roark could see that she had been. All at once she was the happy young girl she’d been before her father’s death.

  “Let’s have a drink and celebrate.” She caught Roark’s hand and led him toward the couch.

  “I can’t stay.”

  “One drink,” she cajoled.

  Roark twisted free of her grip and crossed his arms over his chest.

  She pouted. “What’s wrong?”

  “You ask that, after what you did to Elizabeth at the gala?”

  Defiance flared in her eyes. “You’re angry because everyone knows you aren’t engaged?”

  “I asked you to keep quiet about what you knew, not broadcast my business to the media. Elizabeth has lost her job. Waverly’s is in more trouble than ever. What were you thinking?”

  “That if she was out of your life you would see that I’m all the woman you’ll ever need.”

  “That’s your excuse? You were jealous of a woman I was pretending to be engaged to?” He downplayed his deeper feelings for Elizabeth to give his reprimand more punch.

  “She might be pretending, but you are not.” Sabeen rushed at the desk and placed both palms on its surface. “I see how you look at her. You’re in love with her, and she doesn’t feel the same way.”

  Sabeen’s accusation smacked into his diaphragm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her.

  “You don’t think I know when a woman’s in love? She feels it here.” With a dramatic flourish, Sabeen covered her heart with her right hand. “And it shows here.” She gestured to her eyes.

  Pain bloomed in Roark’s head. Was Sabeen right about Elizabeth? If she loved him wouldn’t she want him in her life? His thoughts retreated to his afternoon with Elizabeth. He’d glimpsed something in her gaze as he’d made love to her, but had he mistaken passion for love?

  And what did it matter anyway? She’d made her feelings clear. Their relationship was over. She would have her baby. He would return to hunting antiquities. They’d enjoyed a few delightful weeks. Made memories he could reflect on the next time he got stuck in the jungle for months on end.

  “Look in my eyes,” Sabeen continued. She cupped his head and met his gaze. “See how I burn for you.”

  Roark did look, but all he saw was insecurity. Sabeen had latched on to him as a lifeline after her father’s death. At the time she’d been young and frightened by the loss of a second parent in six years. Today, she was no longer a child, but a capable woman with the ability to take care of herself. Time she discovered that.

  “I’m taking away your allowance until you prove to me you’re ready to accept responsibility for your inheritance. This week’s stunt demonstrates that you are a child in a woman’s body. Everything has come easily for you and you’ve not matured because of it.”

  She obviously wasn’t expecting this. Her nostrils flared. “I am a woman. A woman who loves you.”

  “A child who loves me. Like an older brother.” Clarity startled him with its sudden appearance. “That’s it, isn’t it? Darius has won his princess and plans to marry her. You’re afraid that Elizabeth will take me away from you. That’s why you sabotaged her. You’re afraid to be alone.”

  A fat tear rolled down Sabeen’s cheek, but her eyes remained confrontational. “I hate you.” She pushed away from his chair and raced out of the room.

  Feeling much older than his twenty-seven years, Roark left the apartment, but didn’t feel much like heading back to his empty loft.

  Forty minutes later he let himself into his mother’s apartment. He’d called ahead to let Mrs. Myott know he was coming. She had leftover pot roast waiting for him. Seated at the center island, he wolfed down the meal. She’d slow-cooked the meat and it practically melted in his mouth.

  Mrs. Myott drank coffee and watched him over the rim of her cup. “When did you last eat?”

  “On the plane. It’s been a hectic few hours since I landed.”

  “Here’s the envelope that came for you today.” She slid a plain manila envelope toward him.

  Roark set down his fork and picked up the envelope. It bore his name and nothing more. Curious, he slit open the flap with his knife and pulled out a smaller envelope bearing his mother’s bold handwriting.

  She’d addressed the envelope to Edward Waverly.

  “Who sent this?”

  “I don’t know. I received a call from the doorman that he’d received an envelope addressed to you.”

  “Did he say which courier service dropped it off?”

  “It never occurred to me to ask.” Mrs. Myott had also recognized the familiar handwriting. Sadness darkened her eyes. “Why would someone send you a letter your mother wrote to Edward Waverly?”

  “I have no idea.” Roark suspected she told Edward she was pregnant and never received a reply. If he’d wanted nothing to do with an illegitimate son, why then had he written a letter to Vance telling him about his half brother so many years later?

  Hoping for a clue as to who sent his mother’s letter, Roark peered into the envelope and spied a sheet of paper. He pulled it out. An unfamiliar
hand had penned a short note.

  Your mother wrote this letter to Edward Waverly. You are as much a Waverly as Vance.

  Vance was the only person Roark could imagine having access to Edward Waverly’s personal correspondence, but he knew Vance’s handwriting and this wasn’t it. Mystified, he handed Mrs. Myott the note and then carefully pulled a sheet of yellowed paper from the envelope.

  To My Love,

  I have kept a secret from you all these years and done you a terrible wrong. You have a son. Roark turned eighteen yesterday and enlisted in the marines. I have never been so proud of him, nor so filled with regret. I know now that by holding him too tight all these years, I instead drove him away.

  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner. When you left me I was devastated. It took months for me to accept that I mustn’t blame you for moving forward with your life. I could never have been the wife you needed. The world outside these walls is too big and too terrifying for me to face. In the end, my fears were stronger than my love for you.

  Many nights I paced the floor, debating whether or not to tell you about Roark. In the end, I was afraid that if you knew you had a son you would take him into the world and away from me. I couldn’t bear to lose both of the men that I loved. Please don’t take your anger with me out on Roark. From a stubborn and clever boy he has grown into a determined and intelligent man. You will be proud to claim him as your son.

  Forever yours,

  Guinevere

  Here was the admission from his mother Roark had been waiting all his life for. He stared at his mother’s letter. Strange how he felt no different now than he had a moment ago. No lights came on in his mind. Nothing snapped into place. The words left him numb.

  He didn’t even care that Edward Waverly had never sought him out after discovering the truth. What good would it do to resent a man who’d been dead almost five years? His parents’ relationship was complicated and colored by bitterness. It was their difficulties that had kept them apart his entire life. Nothing at all to do with him. And in a strange way, Roark was glad he and Vance had been able to begin their relationship free of their father’s baggage.