“So do I,” she assured him.
His anger was so tangible, she felt as if she could reach out and touch it. She didn’t want to. She wanted to soothe the hardness from his jaw, bristled and shadowed from missing his morning shave. She wanted to wave a magic wand and melt the darkness in his accusing eyes.
Instead, she took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make arrangements in lieu of what you’ve told me.”
“You can’t dismiss me so easily.”
She’d never be able to dismiss him, she countered silently. Her love for him would be carried to the grave. “I do appreciate your concerns, Nicolas, and I understand your frustration. If there was a way, I promise you, I’d shut down those mines until I had your clearance and permission.”
“There is way,” Nicolas shot back. “But you’re not prepared to take the loss.”
“The mines have made us a rich country,” Catherine agreed in part. “Rich enough to sustain a few month’s loss in production without even noticing it.”
She tapped her pen on the desk, wondering why she was still arguing, debating how much she could actually say. As much as she trusted Nicolas, this was a matter of national security. “We have contracts with powerful countries. Join the dots and draw your own conclusions.”
He stood, kicking his chair back in disgust. “I have and I don’t like what I see.”
“You are an idealist,” she said as he turned away. “You’ll always find one thing or another to disapprove of until the day you get to Heaven.”
He made no acknowledgment of having heard her.
Her eyes followed him as he walked from the room, hungry for every detail of his broad back, the glossy brown waves of healthy hair that hadn’t been trimmed in over a month and curled up into his neck, the way his lean, muscular body filled the well worn faded denims. She looked and looked, until the door slammed between them, and then she leant back and closed her eyes, adding the picture to her private store of memories.
It wouldn’t be long now. He’d closet himself inside his lab until he’d perfected the serum and then he’d leave. She wasn’t even sure if she’d see him again.
Not long, she assured herself, then she could begin her own healing process from scratch again. As daunting as the prospect was, she’d survived it before.
Meanwhile, she had a country to save and she needed her mother’s advice. Maybe she was wrong and Nicolas was right. Maybe she was playing God with her people’s lives and taking needless risks.
“Impossible,” her mother insisted. She gripped Catherine’s hand as tightly as her strength allowed and met her gaze with a determination that belied her frailty. “I’m also against shutting down Mine 3. Have you considered the ramifications?”
“I promised Nicolas.” She didn’t add that Nicolas wouldn’t be around to hold her to that promise. The mine would be shut off and quarantined either way and a team of experts brought in.
“As much as I admire that young man’s concern and dedication, I really wish you hadn’t.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll handle this without ruffling any diplomatic feathers,” Catherine soothed, patting her mother’s hand. “I didn’t want to bother you, but sometimes it feels as if I don’t have the experience or knowledge to make these decisions.”
“I hate to say it, darling, but that feeling never goes away entirely.”
Catherine gave a shaky laugh and squeezed her mother’s hand. “Well, now I feel so much better.”
Her mother smiled with her, then put her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Damn those mines.”
Catherine agreed wholeheartedly. As much wealth as the discovery had brought Ophella, she’d give it all up to eliminate the constant threat snapping at their heels. If she shut down the mines, America or Russia, probably both, would step in and take over production of the mines as well as the entire country—or what was left of Ophella—while they were at it.
She heard the door click softly open, but didn’t turn around or look up, assuming it was Dr. Stanzis returning.
Nicolas watched mother and daughter from the doorway; one pale and shrivelled, the other bursting with vitality, both a power to be reckoned with and autocratically stubborn. His gaze went to Catherine’s profile and lingered.
His temper was still high and he didn’t particularly want to be in the same room as her right now. Things were bad enough between them and he’d only make it worse. He was neither blind nor closed to the principles of running a country. Disturbing the economic balance and giving up the pittance of power Ophella had claimed with its mysterious contracts were no small matter. But then, neither was risking lives!
She’d accused him of being an idealist.
He was.
And damn if he wasn’t proud of it.
His face grim, his spine stiff, he closed the door and crossed to the other side of the bed from where she sat. “Is she sleeping?” he whispered.
Her head shot up to greet him with a startled gaze. “Um, I think so.”
“I’m awake,” Helene contradicted, opening her eyes.
Nicolas bent his smile on the queen. “I need to draw a small amount of blood, Helene.”
She nodded and, well aware of the routine, held out her arm.
He swabbed a patch of skin and took the sample, talking all the while in low undertones, reassuring, comforting and giving hope.
Catherine watched on with muted pride, her heart swelling at his tender touch and gentle words.
When he’d finished, he gave her one last dark look before departing as quietly as he’d entered. There was nothing tender or gentle in that look. Catherine blinked back a tear and said her silent goodbyes. In her mind, she saw the man who’d loved whipping up sumptuous meals that they could enjoy in the privacy of his home, who’d tumbled her in the leaves of Hyde Park with laughter dancing in his eyes, who’d held her hand across a rickety coffee table in that sentimental café they’d gone back to so many times.
She’d never see that man again.
Nicolas shoved the hard hat on his head before entering the crowded room in the onsite administration building. In faded denims and a jumper, he blended seamlessly with the miners who’d been re-routed for the briefing session as they signed on for the day’s shift.
He stayed near the door, putting his back against the wall and folding his arms as he watched Catherine raise a hand for silence at the other end of the room. She stood on a slightly raised platform that made her visible to every person in attendance. The pale grey suit contrasted sharply with the auburn hair falling to her shoulders. The navy blouse beneath sparked the blue in her eyes. She stood straight, her chin high, her gaze not scanning the room, but catching an eye here and there and talking directly to that man.
She looked beautiful and confident. She looked every bit the royal princess that she was.
Even though she had to project her voice to be heard, it lost none of its melodic quality as she briefed the men on the situation. Her talk was concise and accurate, quoting from the folder he’d left behind on her desk after their argument this morning. Nicolas found himself reluctantly admiring her, even though they were on opposite sides of the negotiating table.
His brow went up as she launched into a string of recommendations of himself, adding her own personal appreciation of his qualifications and praising his accomplishments.
She held up the folder of information he’d prepared. “Nicolas Vecca is of the opinion that all mining should be halted until further investigations can be carried out. There’ll be absolutely no repercussions to any person wishing to stay off from work until the conclusive reports are in and the matter finalised.”
His interest quickened, Nicolas straightened from the wall. She’d given them the truth and the option to make up their own minds. He’d barged into her office and demanded she shut down production. Her way was elegant and diplomatic and totally acceptable.
“You’ll receiv
e full salaries and benefits for the duration,” Catherine continued. “You have my personal assurance this won’t effect future promotions or impact our faith in your reliability.”
There were a few low chuckles and many approving grunts dispersed through the room.
Nicolas shook his head on a slow smile. His grudging admiration flared into pride and respect. Even when she backed down in defeat, she did it with a flair of grace. God, was it any wonder he loved this woman to distraction?
“However,” Catherine called, raising her voice above the hum, which immediately quietened. “However, let us not forget we’ve been operating for twenty years and there’s been no unexplained deaths or illnesses. I value Nicolas Vecca’s opinion, but I must stress that the consequences of ceasing all operation will seriously impact Ophella on many levels. I’ve told you about the extra precautions we’re putting in place. Now I must ask you to put your trust in me.”
She paused, the silence in the room total enough to hear a pin drop. Nicolas, for one, could clearly hear the blood buzz inside his head. His smile faded, the reason behind it forgotten as his anger returned.
“Trust in me,” she repeated, so softly, it was surprising he heard it at the back. “I wouldn’t ask this of you without good reason. We need to keep production up in the four mines that will remain operational.”
Another pause. “Ophella needs you.”
Despite his anger, Nicolas found himself hanging on her every word.
Her smile was warm and seductive. Her eyes implored each man in the room. “I need you.”
The protective instinct conjured by her plea was overwhelming. In that moment, he’d sign his soul over to the devil to give her anything she needed, anything she wanted.
As the men shuffled from the room, as he recognised the determination stamped on their faces, the emotion expressed in their eyes, he knew that this was the devil’s lucky day.
“Cazzo,” he muttered irritably. Damn Catherine and her underhanded tactics. She gave the impression of offering free choice, but no man here had stood a chance.
She didn’t demand, she asked.
As if any red bloodied man could deny such a desperate appeal from such a beautiful woman. Ophella might be a democracy, but so long as Catherine ruled, it might as well be a dictatorship.
God, he thought again and not quite as happily, was it any wonder he loved this woman to distraction?
The room cleared and still he remained where he was, watching as she chatted with Gascon and her secretary, Erling, and another man he didn’t recognise. He moved only when she glanced about and caught sight of him with a startled jerk.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” Catherine said as he approached. Her shoulders stiffened in defence, expecting an immediate attack on her speech.
“Erling said you were meeting with the supervisors down here at two o’ clock. I was invited to attend, if you recall.”
“Of course.” She smiled weakly, introducing him to the mine supervisor as she gathered her papers and folders. She’d assumed that he’d wash his hands off Ophella and leave as soon as his job was done. She’d assumed wrong. Nicolas didn’t give up on a cause that easily, as she well knew. “We’re about to go in.”
Nicolas fell in beside Gascon as they followed Catherine and the others to the scheduled meeting room.
“She’s under a lot of stress,” Gascon said in a low voice. “I hope you haven’t come to disrupt the meeting.”
Nicolas didn’t answer. He wasn’t in the mood for Gascon today, especially not when the man was defending Catherine.
He was furious at the way she’d negated his concerns and manipulated the miners.
He was hungry for a taste of those sweetly curved lips that had won her cause for her with one appealing smile.
He wanted to curse her to hell for using her power to fight him.
He wanted to take her in his arms and love her.
What he wanted, what they both needed, was a temporary respite, Nicolas realised as he found a chair around the table and caught a fleeting glimpse of Catherine without her mask. No more than a brief moment, and then the strain dulling her eyes cleared, the tightness pulling down her lips eased. Then and there, he knew what he wanted most within the current restrictions she insisted on imposing. He wanted that brief unmasked moment to last an hour and he wanted to use every single minute of that hour reminding her of what they’d once had.
Catherine’s expectations of a blustery meeting with her and Nicolas going at each other head to head didn’t unfold. He kept his briefing factual, answering questions put to him by the six supervisors at the table and proposing additional safety measures to the ones she put forward.
Relieved, pleasantly surprised and not a little confounded, Catherine accepted his offer of a ride back to the castle. “I must admit, I expected to find you picketing in front of the mines rather than backing me up in there.”
He started the engine and threw her a grin. “There’s more power inside the boardroom than outside. You know me.”
“If you can’t beat them, join them?” she queried in astonishment. If that was the case, she didn’t know him at all.
“I was thinking more along the lines of invasion of the inner circle.”
Catherine laughed, but a second later she was serious again. “You can’t make me change my mind, Nicolas.”
He glanced her way, his eyes dark and just as serious. “You can’t stop me from trying.”
When he faced back to the road, Catherine continued staring at him, wondering how she could admire his confidence, idealism and determination so much when it was those very qualities she was up against. But she did. She not only admired them, but she loved him all the more for them. They were part of him, probably the best part.
She was only sorry, deeply, sadly sorry that she had to be the one to fight him. That she had to be the one to defeat him.
At the next juncture, he turned off down a dirt road, the suddenly bumpy ride grabbing her attention.
“Where are you—” She broke off as she recognised the lake. “This takes us to the Hunting Lodge.”
He arched a playful brow. “Some of us have excellent memories.”
“It’s quite beautiful,” she said, ignoring the dig and assuming he was taking a short detour for a little sightseeing. “The lake is filled with trout and salmon. Gascon used to bring me fishing here.”
“Is he ever not around?” Nicolas muttered, glancing over his shoulder as he drove, surprised to not find the man tailing them. When the rustic log cabin came into view, he forgot all about Gascon. “Wow, this is not what I expected.”
“You were expecting turrets?” she quipped.
“Do you blame me?” he threw back. As soon as he cut the engine, he jumped down from the Land Rover, lifting his collar up to his chin against the bitter wind blowing off from the lake.
“It’s so…ordinary,” he added when Catherine joined him in front of the vehicle.
She gave a soft laugh. “It’s deceptively ginormous inside.”
He turned to her, saw the wind catch her scarf, and quickly grabbed at it. As he tucked the tasselled edges back inside her coat, his fingers brushed her throat, warm and silky. Her fragrance teased his nostrils and struck a chord of raw desire. The air between them seemed to thicken, slowing him down, shutting off his mind. She looked up into his eyes and his blood warmed beneath the blue fire that enticed his senses.
Nothing existed beyond this moment.
His fingers clutched the lapels of her coat to tug her closer.
Catherine went willingly. The protective gesture of tucking in her scarf against the wind had lit a memory that outshone the present.
She knew this. The love and passion smouldering in his dark, intense gaze. The tension in his jaw as he focused the two of them into a world of their own. The hunger on the lips reaching down for her.
She wanted this. She met his kiss with parted lips, throwing her arms around his neck, link
ing her fingers through his hair.
This is all I’ve ever wanted.
Why is it too much to ask for?
His arms came around her, lifting her into him, folding his heat around her as he deepened the kiss with slanting, determined strokes. His bristled jaw scraped lightly against her skin, igniting another memory. There were so many. And here they were, making yet another one. Even as her body responded to him in pleasure, her heart sobbed beneath.
She didn’t need or want another memory.
She felt as if she’d never truly be alive without the real thing.
He stopped the kiss, but he didn’t release her. Catherine shivered at the simple joy of being in his arms.
“You’re cold,” he murmured against her cheek.
Before she could object, he tipped her back onto her feet. Still, he didn’t let go. Not completely. He held onto her hand, pulling her toward the cabin.
Once she realised his intentions, Catherine dug her toes in, forcing him to stop. “The cabin is locked.”
His grin matched the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Did I forget to mention that my high IQ comes with unnatural lock picking abilities?”
“Idiot,” she giggled, half high on love and half desperate to cling to this isolated moment.
Deciding they’d procrastinated enough, Nicolas swung her into his arms and carried her to the door. When he put her down, he claimed another lingering kiss before turning his attention on the sturdy door. “I need something to pick this with.”
“Maybe in the Land Rover?” she suggested.
His gaze returned to her. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Her heart leapt at the vulnerability in his eyes, in his voice, as if he was in no way certain that she wouldn’t disappear the second he turned his back.
“I won’t,” she assured him, at once aware of just how badly her leaving had effected him. Of course it had, she just hadn’t given it proper thought. He radiated such power, authority and confidence, it was impossible to imagine anything existed that he could not defeat. But he’d slipped down to the corner shop one morning and returned to find her gone. Not only gone, but dead. That would shake the foundations of a mountain.
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