Tonight Dakota looked a little dangerous – black trousers, a black jacket and eyes as dark as his clothes. He used to complain that he didn't blend in well, that men in his field shouldn't stand out in a crowd. Of course, men in his field were masters of disguise, and he played the game to perfection. Kathy knew he had altered his appearance many times, his height the only feature he couldn't change.
"It smells good," he said.
"Yes, it does."
He scooted back her chair, and she took her seat, thinking they weren't off to a very good start. There was no level of comfort between them. None whatsoever.
She poured the wine, her hand steadier than her heart. He sat across from her, watching every move she made, his gaze filled with questions. Clearly be wanted to know why she had left.
Kathy wasn't ready to talk about personal matters, wasn't sure if it would even matter. Retired or not, Lieutenant Dakota Lewis was, and always would be, the ultimate soldier – a man drawn to the heat of battle. A wife longing for babies and domestic bliss had no place in his life.
Dakota reached for his wine, and Kathy toyed with her salad. But before the silence threatened to swallow them, he spoke. "Tell me about your relationship with the royal family."
"I consider Queen Nicole a friend," she answered, relaxing a little. "She is part American and enjoys having another American woman to talk to. Although she was born in Asterland, she was educated in the States and has a fondness for our culture."
"When were you assigned to the consulate in Asterland? You've been in Washington for the last three years."
So be knew where she had been. Well, of course he did. She couldn't very well hide from a man like Dakota, nor had she intended to. She had wanted him to come to her, wanted him to profess that she was more important than his work, that be would retire for good.
"I wasn't assigned to Asterland, I was brought in to handle a situation that involved Prince Eric." Queen Nicole's young son, a dark-haired little boy who had stolen Kathy's heart. "Prince Eric had gotten into trouble at a prestigious New England boarding school. He was on the verge of being suspended because his classroom behavior was too disruptive. And since the school officials weren't being particularly cooperative, Queen Nicole requested that an American consular assess the situation and report to her."
Dakota cut into his meat. "Your report must have impressed the queen."
"Prince Eric turned out to be a delightful child, which led me to believe his classroom behavior needed further investigation." Kathy adjusted the linen napkin on her lap. "With the queen's approval, I brought in an educational psychologist. And the psychologist diagnosed Prince Eric with attention deficit disorder. Personally, I feel the boy had been treated unfairly. A learning disability isn't something that warrants a suspension."
Dakota smiled. "You've always been tuned in to kids. You could have been a teacher."
Or a mother, she thought, swallowing the lump in her throat. Prince Eric had come into her life soon after the miscarriage, and bonding with the young boy had helped ease the pain of losing her own child. "The queen transferred him to a boarding school that specializes in learning disabilities. He's doing well now. A determined fifth-grader."
"It's hard to believe Prince Ivan came from the same family."
"I know." Kathy pictured Prince Ivan. He was Eric's older brother, a grown man who abused his power and shamed his family. He had also been a menace to the town of Royal, a threat to the Cattleman's Club. But in the end, a cowardly act had consumed him. Rather than return to Asterland to face his family, the prince had committed suicide. "Ivan is dead now."
Dakota placed his fork on the table. "But he's still creating trouble. Or his past deeds are. He's the one who convinced the king to appoint Payune to the position of Grand Minister. Payune and Ivan were thick as thieves."
And at one time, the king, clearly blinded by parental love, had intended to abdicate the throne to Ivan. "Prince Eric is nothing like his brother. He will make a fine king someday."
"That's good to know. But if we don't stop Payune, young Eric will never get that chance." Dakota trapped her gaze, his dark eyes riveting. "I hope to God Payune buys my cover. And yours, too. I'm going to have to convince him that you're a double agent."
Kathy tried to look away, but couldn't. Dakota held her there, caught in his magnetic gaze. She wasn't able to respond; her mouth had gone dry. She reached for her wine, took a small sip.
His husky voice sounded gentle, low. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I hate doing this to you, but I don't know how else to reach Payune."
Sweetheart. Kathy felt a pool of warmth settle deep in her belly. Dakota had used that endearment the first time they'd made love.
Show me what you like, sweetheart. Put my hands—
Oh yes, those hands. Those strong, callused hands – fingertips stroking her breasts, sliding lower, slipping between her thighs. He used to watch her climax, smile and watch, masculine pleasure alight in his dark eyes. Afterward they would kiss, and he would enter her, push himself deep inside, make it happen all over again. Every explosive, glorious sensation.
"Kathy?"
She started. "Yes?"
"Are you all right? Did that upset you?"
Yes, she wanted to say. It unnerves me that I can't stop thinking about us. That I can recall your touch, your smile, the feel of your mouth covering mine, the weight of your body, the rock of your hips. "No. I came into this mission knowing we would have to fool Payune. I'm prepared to play my part."
"You're absolutely sure? You don't have any second thoughts?"
"I'm ready for this assignment," she said, struggling to maintain her composure. "Aaron briefed me on all of the details." Dakota would present himself as a Texas billionaire willing to fund Payune's revolution for personal gain. And she would be painted as Dakota's shrewd wife – a woman who used a government job to her best advantage.
"Don't worry about me," she added. She wouldn't allow her thoughts to stray, wouldn't allow those disturbing images to cloud her mind. Because recalling Dakota's touch was possibly more dangerous than the mission.
* * *
Chapter 2
«^»
Kathy wore her hair up again, Dakota noticed, but the dry Texas wind had disturbed it, loosening several long, bright strands. She wore casual clothes – jeans and a short-sleeved cotton blouse, her shoulder nearly brushing his.
A bronze statue of Tex Langley, the founder of the Texas Cattleman's Club, stood like a monument behind them.
They sat on a park bench, but they weren't lounging on a leisure day. This was business, another meeting place where they wouldn't be overheard.
Sheikh Ben Rassad and his wife, Jamie, sat on the other side of the bench, a newly married couple looking far too much in love. Dakota resisted the urge to move closer to Kathy, to allow their bodies to touch. Although last night's dinner hadn't been a failure, it wasn't a complete success, either. They weren't exactly used to each other yet.
Dakota dug a booted heel into the grass. Maybe he should just kiss her and get it over with. Pull her onto his lap. Tug her hair loose. Slam his tongue into her mouth and devour the woman he had married.
After all, she was still technically his wife.
He glanced up at Ben Rassad. Yeah, right. Kiss Kathy now, here at the park, in front of his happily married friend. What the hell was he trying to prove? That he was an egotistical, envious idiot?
Dakota lifted a bottle of water and brought it to his lips, wetting his mouth and cooling his thoughts. Strange how things had worked out for Ben. The sheikh had been assigned to watch over Jamie when she needed protection, then ended up falling for her in the process. The feisty young woman had originally been a mail-order bride for Albert Payune, a union arranged by Jamie's father and Payune himself.
Luckily, Payune had backed out of the deal and never pursued Jamie any further. Which, in turn, had prompted this meeting – second-guessing Payune's actions – the man Dakota intended
to take down.
"So, do either one of you have any idea why Payune had advertised for an American wife?" he asked, dividing his gaze between the other couple.
Jamie shook her head. "No, but we've talked about it. Tossed ideas back and forth."
"Like what, for instance?"
"Vanity, perhaps," Ben said. "Payune may have desired a young wife to boost his ego. Texas women are renowned for their beauty." He reached for Jamie's hand and held it lightly. "But there is also the possibility of revenge. Payune might blame the town of Royal for Ivan's suicide, and he planned to take one of our women as payment."
Dakota mulled over Ben's words, deciding anything was possible where Payune was concerned.
"I tend to think Sheikh Rassad was right the first time," Kathy said. "That Payune's ego was involved."
"Really?" When Dakota turned toward her, his hand brushed hers – an accidental touch that sent an electrical charge straight to his heart. He forced himself to concentrate on the discussion, but failed miserably. He noticed Kathy's hand was bare. She wore no rings. The wedding band he'd placed on her finger was gone.
Dakota looked over at Ben and Jamie. Both sat patiently as though waiting for Kathy to expound on her theory. Apparently he was the only one losing his train of thought. Damn it. He knew better than to allow his heart to get tangled up in this mission. Kathy had left him, and that was that.
Tightening his jaw, he turned toward her again. "So you think Payune wanted an American wife to make himself look good?"
She nodded. "It would enhance his public image in Asterland. Queen Nicole is well received in her country. And since she is part American, Payune may have been trying to find a wife he considered comparable to her." She shifted her gaze to Ben. "A beautiful Texan, just as Sheikh Rassad pointed out."
Dakota frowned. "If that's the case, then why did Payune let Jamie go? My contact in Asterland says he's no longer pursuing a wife, American or otherwise."
Kathy smoothed the wind-blown strands of her hair. "I don't know. But I've always had the feeling that Payune is enamored of Queen Nicole. Of course she's madly in love with her husband. She isn't the kind of woman to have an affair, and I'm sure Payune knows that."
"But he wants her." And in Dakota's opinion that made Albert Payune even more dangerous. Could there be an assassination plot brewing? If the king were killed during the revolution, Queen Nicole would be left a widow, free to accept Payune's affection. And if Payune controlled the queen and Prince Eric, then, in a sense, he would control Asterland, too.
Dakota figured Payune had three options: overthrow the Asterland government through a revolution, dispose of the entire royal family or kill the king and marry Queen Nicole.
But how could Payune possibly think the queen would turn to him? If she loved her husband, she wouldn't embrace the man who had assassinated him.
Or would she? Was Kathy wrong about Queen Nicole? Maybe the queen wasn't as madly in love as she claimed to be.
Wives, it seemed, changed their minds about such matters. Dakota knew firsthand that love wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
* * *
They were both experienced flyers – more than experienced. Kathy had lived abroad most of her life, and Dakota was a pilot, a man who belonged to the sky. But not today. Although they rode on a private, luxurious jet owned by a prominent member of the Cattleman's Club, they were anything but relaxed.
The pilot, thank God, was another retired air force officer, someone Dakota trusted implicitly. Flying to Asterland with Kathy was difficult enough, and the last thing Dakota needed to concern himself with was the competency of their pilot.
Kathy sat across from him in a cushioned chair. The jet offered an upscale, home-like setting, a penthouse apartment in the sky. Kathy fit right in. Dakota supposed he did, too – on the outside at least. He'd been born into money, even if he was the bastard son of a hard-nosed land baron, a man who'd left him a sizable inheritance. Dakota didn't fashion himself after his father, but he'd done his damnedest to earn the older man's respect.
Kathy paged through a magazine. It wasn't difficult to assess that she wasn't absorbed in its contents. Her mind was elsewhere. And rightly so, Dakota supposed. This mission had sucked both of them in, drawing them into an imminent vacuum.
Placing the magazine on a table, she looked up and asked, "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"
Good God. She had second thoughts? Now? They were halfway to Asterland. "What do you mean?"
"Not involving the king and queen. I don't like deceiving them."
"We're not deceiving them. We're keeping this mission under wraps to protect them. The less people involved, the safer we'll all be."
Kathy frowned. "But it's their country."
And she was thinking with her heart instead of her head, Dakota thought. Her friendship with the queen was blinding her judgment. "Kathy, we don't know how many cabinet members are actually part of the revolution plot. If the king or queen put their trust in the wrong person, it would blow our operation sky-high. We can't take that chance."
And Dakota had some concerns about Queen Nicole and Albeit Payune. "Besides, how well do you really know the queen? She could have stumbled into an affair with Payune. That might be the reason he quit looking for a wife."
Kathy narrowed her eyes. "Queen Nicole hasn't stumbled into affair, Dakota. I already told you she wouldn't do something like that. She loves her husband."
And I thought you loved me, he wanted to say. "So women don't cheat on their husbands? They don't get themselves tangled up with other men?"
"Some do, I suppose. But not most. That's a man's game."
She picked up the magazine again, and Dakota kicked his legs out in front of him. A man's game. Right. He hadn't even looked at another women since she'd been gone. He studied Kathy's professional attire, her slim, fashionable figure. When she flipped a page, he caught sight of a gold band glinting on her finger. She wore her wedding ring, the diamond and emerald design he'd had custom made for her.
Don't take that as encouragement, he told himself. She'd put it back on for show, for the sake of their cover. "So have you been with anyone?" he asked, his voice gruff. "Did you leave me so you could sleep with another man?"
Kathy's complexion paled. "I can't believe you're asking me something like that."
He felt his muscles tense. Technically, they were still married. Neither had filed for a legal separation, much less a divorce. He had a right to know. "Well?"
"Of course not." She lifted her chin and met his gaze, her eyes locking onto his. "What about you? Have you been with someone?"
"No." He shook his head and made light of his loneliness, the years he'd waited for her to return. "The way I figure it, we've still got that piece of paper between us." As well as the vows they had taken.
For better or worse. Until death do us part. He had meant every word.
She let out an audible breath, her eloquent vocal skills suddenly failing her. "I suppose it was best that we...discussed this issue. I...we... don't need any personal distractions on this mission."
Yeah, and wondering if your spouse had a new lover would certainly fall under the category of a personal distraction. "I agree. Now that it's out in the open, I won't mention it again."
"Good."
Her smile was tight, but the fear in her eyes had faded. Fear that he had been with another woman. The thought made him a little smug, as well as confused. If things like that still mattered, why hadn't she come home before now?
Dakota dragged a hand through his hair. She isn't home, Lieutenant Lewis. This is an assignment, a fake reconciliation. Get your facts straight.
They remained silent for the next twenty minutes, she, occupying herself with another magazine, he, staring out the window at the night sky. He would have rather been piloting the plane than sitting idle, thinking about how much he missed a closeness with his wife. Sure, they had spent some time away from each other, but due to the nature of
his work, those separations couldn't be helped. And their reunions used to be nice. Damn nice. Nothing like this one.
"Dakota?"
He turned away from the window. "Yes?"
"Why didn't you ever tell me the Lone Star jewels really existed?"
While he'd been thinking about her, she'd been thinking about the recovered jewels. Well, at least one of them had her mind on the mission. "Only those associated with the Texas Cattleman's Club were supposed to know they existed."
"Because of the legend?"
"Yes."
"So the story about that soldier is true?"
Dakota nodded. A Texas soldier had found the jewels during the War with Mexico and had brought them to Royal after the war, intending to sell them and make his fortune.
"When he came home, oil was found on his land. So he believed just owning the stones was lucky, and that they should remain in Royal."
"And now the Cattleman's Club protects them, and everyone else thinks their existence is just a legend. A story passed down from generation to generation."
"Yes, but Payune came across the truth somehow."
Kathy leaned forward, clearly engrossed in their conversation. But then she loved jewels, and the Lone Star gems were a rare, stunning collection. Too bad she would never see them, he thought. He would enjoy watching her eyes glow – those gorgeous green eyes.
"Any idea how Payune found out about them?" she asked.
"It's possible Prince Ivan had something to do with it. When he was in Royal, he asked a lot of questions. It would stand to reason that he heard about the legend. He probably told Payune about it."
"And Payune discovered the legend was true, from his comrade, Robert Klimt – the man who had stolen the jewels." Kathy reclined in her chair. "I'm so glad they were recovered. They haven't been safeguarded all these years to end up in the wrong hands."
"Funding a revolution no less." Dakota rose and headed toward a small wet bar. "Do you want a cold drink?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Then how about a cup of hot tea?" He knew she added one teaspoon of sugar and a splash of cream to her tea. He wondered if she remembered little details about him or if she had chosen to forget. It wouldn't be hard to recall that he drank his coffee black or that he considered hot sauce a breakfast staple.
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