by Kay Hooper
“Trade, hell, I’m ready to give her away.”
Since at least one sheik Drew knew of had already attempted to steal the lady in question years before and had barely escaped with his life when Kane got a bit upset about it, Drew didn’t make the mistake of believing the threat. And since he could hear Tyler laughing in the background, it was clear that she didn’t believe it, either.
They had an interesting relationship, those two. Both fierce, temperamental and passionate, they’d fought for years as violently as two cats tied up in a bag. They’d fought as bitter rivals, as enemies, as unwilling partners and finally as lovers. Like the two of them—separately and, especially, together—their fights were rather magnificent, and had earned them a worldwide reputation among the community of people interested in antiquities. They were also well-known for their abilities and knowledge when it came to antiquities, and for their solid integrity and honor.
Drew knew them very well, despite the fact that he’d met them face-to-face less than a year before. He trusted both of them implicitly—and he couldn’t say that about many.
Now, rightly guessing the reason for Kane’s temper with his spirited wife, Drew said, “Are you in Spain because of Tyler’s doing?”
Kane grunted, sounding as annoyed as a man could when he absolutely adored the woman he wanted to strangle. “We were supposed to be going back to Montana, but then that asinine curator in London had to mention a rumor he’d heard about a jeweled dagger. And here we are. Tangling with crooks, as usual. Ty just had a run-in with a smuggler who would have killed her as soon as spit, and she just won’t—”
He broke off, there was an unidentifiable sound or two and then Tyler’s cheerful voice came over the line.
“Hi, Drew. Pay no attention to Kane, he’s just grouchy because a donkey kicked him yesterday.”
Since Drew could hear an exasperated sigh, he gathered that Kane was on an extension. “I thought he got along with donkeys,” he commented.
“I should,” Kane growled. “I married one.”
Not at all offended, Tyler merely said, “This one—I mean that one—was possessed of a fiend. Anyway, we found the dagger and handed it over to a museum here in Madrid, so we’re pretty much at loose ends.”
“What about Montana?” Drew questioned, knowing that Tyler had just endorsed Kane’s earlier offer of help.
“The world’s round,” Kane replied, his temper fading. “Any news on the cross?”
If Drew had believed that Kane really was hell-bent to get back home to Montana, he wouldn’t have asked them for help. But he knew very well that even though Tyler’s frequent close brushes with danger shook Kane so much that he invariably stated his determination to take her home where she’d be safe, he could no more resist the lure of elusive antiquities than she could.
“Yeah, there’s news,” Drew said. “Bad news. One of my sources just confirmed that Lon Stanton went up into the mountains before dawn yesterday. He was back within hours, and he didn’t waste any time leaving Innsbruck.”
chapter nine
“ STANTON?” KANE MUTTERED something about Mr. Stanton’s ancestry, which that individual would have found more than a little offensive.
“If he was that quick,” Tyler said, obviously thinking along more practical lines, “he must have found the cross.”
“Even worse,” Kane said. “He must know you’re no more than a step behind him.”
“I have to assume that, even though my being after the cross is a very recent development,” Drew said, looking at the note in his hand and certain that it was more than an assumption. Stanton knew. Drew had no doubt now that it had been his own sudden presence in Spencer’s life that had caused Stanton to steal Allan Wyatt’s notes and then race to Austria with no loss of time. Stanton would expect to be followed.
Some enemies knew you more intimately than a best friend ever could.
Holding his voice steady and quiet, Drew said, “The problem is that I can’t afford the time for him to relax his guard. I have to go on the offensive, and that means finding him before he’s crossed too many borders.”
“Okay, then,” Kane said briskly, “we’ll start getting in touch with our contacts and see what we can turn up. The bastard isn’t invisible—he has to show up somewhere.”
“Will you be on the move right away?” Tyler asked. “Or stay in Innsbruck?”
“We’ll be here at least long enough to go up into the mountains and make sure he did find it.”
Tyler didn’t question the plural. “All right, then. We’ll call you by tonight, one way or the other.”
When Drew cradled the receiver, a sudden awareness made him look toward the doorway to the bedroom Spencer was standing there, one small hand gripping the doorjamb tightly, and she was very pale.
“It’s all right,” he said involuntarily, dropping the note on the coffee table and rising to his feet.
She was looking at him in an odd, probing way, as if she were puzzled but didn’t know why. “Is it?”
Before he could answer, a knock at the door signaled the arrival of breakfast, and Drew had to deal with that. By the time the waiter had gone, Spencer had obviously gotten herself under control. She wasn’t as pale, and she even managed a small smile when he went to her.
“Even though I knew someone else was after the cross,” she murmured, “I kept thinking it would be there, waiting. Pretty stupid, huh?”
He put his hands gently on her shoulders, unable to resist kissing her, then led her to her chair at the table. He was still worried about her, still trying to decide how to handle the situation without risking her in any way, and made his voice matter-of-fact as he responded to what she’d said. “No, not stupid. There was every reason to suppose we could get to it first. I’m just sorry you had to hear about it like that.”
She poured coffee for them both and then sipped hers as she looked at him gravely. “I don’t think I heard it all. You know who did get there first? His name, I mean?”
Drew told her about the note he’d gotten, just mentioning Stanton’s name without description, and about whom he’d been talking to on the phone and why. He explained that Kane and Tyler Pendleton not only were expert hunters with good instincts and solid contacts, but also were unusually quick when it came to finding information.
“Quicker than you?” she asked, surprised by that.
“We’ve never had a contest,” he replied, pleased when that brought a smile. He loved her slow smiles, and they were still rare enough that they speeded up his heartbeat. Or maybe, he thought, it wasn’t because they were rare. Maybe it was just because he loved her smiles.
“So they’re going to help?”
“If they can. Stanton has an edge if he knows he’s being hunted. He’ll avoid the obvious routes and keep out of sight, and that won’t make it easy for us. But he has to get the cross out of Europe and back to the States, so he has to move, and he can’t afford to risk too many cute tricks. He’ll want to move fast at least out of Austria, because he has to assume the first thing we’ll do is sound the alarm, and that means every border guard will be on the alert and half of Interpol will be sniffing out his trail.”
“Will we sound the alarm?”
Drew sipped his coffee as he considered that, still trying to decide. “I have a few friends in Interpol who’d take my word for it that Stanton got his hands on the cross, but they couldn’t move against him without proof. He doesn’t panic easily, but too much attention could make him go to ground, and we don’t have time to wait him out. I think we should find out which way he’s gone and then decide.”
Frowning a little, Drew went on. “If he’s following his usual methods, he’s over here with his own passport, big as life, with a hired gun in case there’s trouble. He isn’t likely to move the cross via one of the airlines, at least unless he’s willing to risk it crossing the Atlantic, because of customs and because even checked luggage is X-rayed. He could charter a plane, but not out of In
nsbruck because too few are available and that’s a sign anyone on his trail would be able to read.”
Spencer was so fascinated she’d forgotten to continue eating as she listened.
“He won’t go to Vienna,” Drew said slowly, obviously working it out in his mind. “Trying to get out of the capital city with an Austrian treasure would be a bit too reckless, and heading east just makes the route home longer. Germany to the north—there’s a lot going on there right now, and I wouldn’t risk it. Switzerland to the west—maybe, but doubtful unless you’re trying to move or safeguard cash. The safest bet would be to go overland and head south, through Italy to the Mediterranean. The border wouldn’t be too risky, and once he reached the coast there are any number of vessels he could book passage on without having to go through customs. Once he’s at sea he can pick a nice, safe, out-of-the-way port where smugglers will take him anywhere he wants for the right price.”
Spencer had the feeling her mouth was open. She reached for her coffee hastily and took a sip, then murmured, “God help the world if you take to crime.”
Drew looked at her, smiling slightly. “You can learn a lot about your enemies—and their methods—in ten years,” he said dryly.
“He is an enemy, isn’t he? Stanton, I mean. The way you talk about him, you must know him very well.”
A part of Drew’s mind had been occupied by that very certain knowledge even as he’d mentally traced Stanton’s possible route, and now, as he looked at Spencer, the coldness he was becoming familiar with was heavy in his chest. “I know him,” he said.
Spencer frowned a little at the tone, which was curiously bleak and hard. “Is he . . . dangerous?” she asked slowly.
So dangerous that I don’t want you anywhere near him. Drew pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. “Spencer . . . would you consider going back to the States—or waiting here—and letting me find the cross for you?” He saw the instant flash of some strong emotion in her eyes, but forced himself to hold her gaze steadily.
“No,” she said.
Very softly, he said, “I don’t want you to get hurt.” She hesitated, but even though it was almost painful to refuse him anything, she had to, and shook her head in response. It wasn’t only because she still felt driven to find the cross for her father. There was something else now, something she’d been aware of ever since she’d walked into the room and heard Drew talking on the phone. Maybe it was just because she loved him, but she had the strongest, strangest feeling that if she didn’t go with him, if she didn’t stay as close to him as possible, something terrible would happen to him.
In a way, it was absurd to believe that her presence would keep him safe; she certainly couldn’t protect him physically and he’d proven himself adept at surviving dangerous situations in the past. But what she felt was a conviction too deep to be questioned or ignored, and she had to accept it even if she didn’t understand why.
“No,” she said quietly. “I have to go with you.”
“Because you don’t trust me?” His voice was taut now, his face very still.
“I trust you.” It was the truth, and one she had to admit. “I know you’d get the cross and bring it back to me if you could. It’s just . . .” She couldn’t tell him that, it sounded too senseless. “I have to go with you. Please, Drew, it’s very important to me.”
They both knew that he could keep her from going with him, by trickery or by force if there was no other way. But after a long moment Drew muttered an oath and looked away from her, and she knew she’d won. She wasn’t sure why she’d won, and she was too relieved to ask. Instead, she asked another question.
“Why is Stanton so dangerous?”
Flatly, Drew said, “Because he cares about nothing on this earth except his collection, and his only emotion about that is cold, ruthless greed. He has plenty of money, but the things he wants money can’t buy, so he just takes them. It doesn’t matter who they belong to, and it doesn’t matter what he has to do to get them. He doesn’t give a damn about anything but his own gluttony, and he’s completely soulless.” Drew hesitated, then added in a voice that was stony with control, “I once saw him cut a woman’s throat.”
Spencer was so shocked that for a long moment she couldn’t say anything at all. She had no experience of violence, no understanding of how any human could commit such an act. A wave of nausea passed over her and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “He—he wasn’t punished for that?”
“Not the way he deserved to be.”
Something about that grim reply made Spencer’s heart turn over with a lurch. What other unbearable things had Drew seen? And what kind of strength did it require of him to show a composed face to the world with memories like that haunting him?
“What happened?” she asked.
Drew half shrugged, his gaze fixed on something only he could see. “It was in Central America years ago in the middle of some cockeyed revolution. Stanton had gone down there after a gold idol that had been stolen from a museum. I was—I was just there. Our paths crossed by accident. I was too far away to see all of what happened, but I found out later that the thief wasn’t willing to part with the idol even though Stanton had paid him to steal it. Stanton grabbed the thief’s wife and held a knife to her throat. The man immediately handed the idol over—but Stanton killed her anyway.
“There was fighting going on all around. Stanton was shot, wounded, but not fatally. He managed to get away. There was no government to speak of, and if the thief reported his wife’s murder, no one cared.”
Spencer thought that someone had cared. Someone still remembered the brutal, senseless waste of a life. But she couldn’t say anything because her throat was aching so badly.
Drew looked at her, focused on her face. His eyes were very dark, and his voice was so low it seemed to come from deep inside his chest. “The cross isn’t worth a life, Spencer. Allan would be the first to say so.”
She swallowed hard. “I know.”
“We’ll track Stanton if we can, but we won’t get close. As soon as we have something solid, we’ll alert the Austrian authorities and Interpol, and let them handle it.”
Spencer nodded. “Yes. All right.”
He reached over and grasped one of her hands. “It could take more time than Allan has,” he warned quietly. “Once the authorities are involved in investigating the theft of a national treasure, things will get complicated in a hurry. You may not be able to take the cross back to the States for months.”
She turned her hand so that her fingers twined with his, and smiled. “I know that. But it seems to be the only way.”
Drew sighed a bit roughly, almost as if he’d been holding his breath, and squeezed her hand before releasing it. “Okay. I need to make a few calls, and then we should ride up into the mountains and make sure Stanton got what he came for.”
Spencer agreed to that, and while he made his calls she finished her cool coffee and thought about everything he had told her. Now she knew why she had to stay with him. It was because she loved him, but it was also because her presence did have the power to keep him safe.
When she had come into the room and heard him on the phone, something in his voice had touched an alarm bell deep in her subconscious. Though she hadn’t understood it then, she did now. Alone, Drew would have gone after Lon Stanton without hesitation, not just for the cross but for that cruelly murdered woman—and perhaps even others he hadn’t told her about. He would have hunted Stanton, and finding him wouldn’t have been enough, turning him over to the authorities wouldn’t have been enough.
What Spencer had heard in Drew’s voice had been the soft echo of an emotion so primitive only her deepest instincts had recognized it for what it was: the utter loathing of a man of conscience for something evil.
Alone, Drew would have confronted that evil, risking his life without a second thought. But he wouldn’t risk her life. She knew that. As long as she was with him, he would take care of her. He would ke
ep his distance from Stanton to protect her, and that would keep him safe.
THEY FOUND THE cave midway through the afternoon. Miles from Innsbruck, and carved into a cliff face so steep they’d had to leave the horses below and climb, it had been hidden from sight by a cunning arrangement of boulders that looked natural. Or at least had looked natural before Stanton had found it. Now, two of the huge rocks were scarred by marks of pickaxes and a third had been broken into pieces, leaving a thin opening that gaped darkly in the sunlight.
Drew helped her up the last couple of feet so they were standing on a narrow ledge and, glancing back down the way they’d come, he said almost idly, “How much mountain climbing have you done?”
Spencer, who was carefully not looking down, replied with the truth. “None. Why?”
He smiled slightly. “Do you know what courage is, Spencer?”
Puzzled by the seemingly oblique question, she frowned up at him. “The dictionary’s definition?”
“No, the true definition. Courage is doing what you have to do, even if it scares you silly.” He leaned over and kissed her, so deeply and thoroughly that she was shaking when he finally raised his head.
She was glad he was holding her hand, because she was so dizzy she might easily have tumbled off the ledge. Blinking up at him as the dizziness cleared, and wondering why he’d said that about courage, she said, “Um—shouldn’t we go into the cave?”
Drew turned his head to study the opening with a considering gaze. “You stay put a minute, all right?”
She nodded as he unclipped the big flashlight he carried from his belt. She could still feel the warmth of his mouth on hers, and though a night of intense passion had left her feeling wonderfully sated, she was conscious of desire stirring deep inside her now as she looked at him.
The sunlight gleamed in his golden hair and made his blue eyes seem even brighter than usual. The sweater he wore set off his broad shoulders, just as the snug jeans complemented lean hips and long, powerful legs. He’d been graceful on horseback and now, as he went toward the cave opening, she admired the lithe, catlike suppleness of his movements. She felt amazingly primitive when she looked at him, her body heated, her emotions fierce, and it was a struggle to contain that.