TYCOON WARRIOR

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  "And I, you." He stood gazing up at her. "Mother says I may go to the ball. At least for a little while."

  "I'm glad. I'll be there, too."

  "Is your husband going to escort you?"

  Kathy resisted the urge to skim his bangs from his eyes. "Yes, he is."

  "So I will meet him?"

  She thought of her lost child again. Dakota's child. "Yes," she said softly. "I would like very much for the two of you to meet."

  * * *

  Kathy sat beside Dakota in their rental vehicle, heading down a winding country road toward the beach. They had dressed for a casual outing, but Kathy assumed Dakota had business on his mind. They had a lot to discuss. The queen's birthday ball was tomorrow evening, and the necklace switch still hadn't been made.

  Dakota parked the utility vehicle, and they remained silent for a moment. The private beach presented a narrow stretch of sand and a clear blue ocean bathing a scatter of large, jagged rocks.

  Kathy smiled to herself. Mermaids lounged on the rocks when no one could see them, she thought – their long, luxurious hair blowing in the breeze, their iridescent tails swaying to the rhythm of the sea. Were there mermen? Or did the mermaids sing their siren's song for human males – men who didn't believe in fairy tales.

  Men like Dakota.

  "Let's go," he said.

  He carried a blanket and a backpack, and she trudged beside him in a pair of lace-up boots. It wasn't a swimsuit day. The wind blew with a brisk chill, and the ocean roared with foaming waves. Both she and Dakota wore sweatshirts and jeans.

  He picked a spot away from the tide and secured the blanket the best he could. They sat beside each other, and Kathy waited for him to speak. She could have kept silent for hours just watching the sea, imagining schools of glittery fish and sunken treasures sparkling with gold.

  "Have you ever been through the maze at the palace?" he asked.

  Kathy turned. "Just once. Prince Eric wanted me to play hide-and-seek with him, but I ended up getting lost. He had to rescue me, even though he was the one hiding. I felt a little foolish." And somewhat frightened. The garden maze was a labyrinth of tall, dark-green shrubs, a puzzle that had made her feel like Alice in Nightmareland.

  "Did you ever make it to the center?"

  She nodded. "Prince Eric guided me there." And she recalled a white gazebo, a porch-type swing and a lovely arrangement of seasonal blooms. "It was pretty, but not quite worth the trouble."

  He frowned. "So you wouldn't remember how to get to the gazebo on your own?"

  Kathy pushed a strand of hair away from her face. She had worn her hard-to-hold hair in a practical ponytail, but already wispy tendrils were coming loose. "Heavens, no." She studied the crease between his eyebrows. "Why? What's going on?"

  "I'm going to switch the necklaces during the ball."

  She had no idea what that had to do with the garden maze, but, regardless, his plan made no sense. "You can't. You're a guest at the ball. Nobody can be two places at once."

  "It's the only time I can make the switch, the only time I can be absolutely certain of Payune's whereabouts." He sent her a wicked grin, his teeth gleaming. "And you're wrong, I can be in two places at once."

  That slash of white in an otherwise dark face made him look like a rogue. She had to tell her girlish heart to behave. "I hope you're going to explain."

  He moved closer. "Of course, I am. This plan involves you."

  And that nightmarish maze, she thought with sudden doom. "Go ahead."

  "Okay. We'll attend the ball – drink, dance and make our presence known to Payune. Then at 2030, we'll take a walk – stroll through the maze and neck a little on our way to the gazebo."

  Her heart bumped. "Neck?"

  The roguish grin returned. "Kiss, nibble, paw each other like lusty teenagers."

  She couldn't catch her breath, so she forced herself to gulp the sea air. She didn't want to kiss him. Well, maybe she did. But because she did, she knew she shouldn't. "That's hardly proper behavior at a royal ball."

  He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't get your sequins in a snit, Kathy. This is part of the mission. Payune might be watching us. He may even decide to follow. But if he sees us wrapped in each other's arms, he'll figure we're just out on a romantic, moonlit stroll."

  How did Dakota know her dress had sequins on it? she wondered testily, wishing she had brought an alternative ball gown. "Payune is going to be that suspicious of us? Enough to follow us outside?"

  "Hell, yes. He's not a stupid man. He understood the direction I was taking yesterday. I'm a former air force officer from Royal, Texas, with a Foreign Service consular for a wife. And to top it off, we're asking to be part of his revolution." Dakota blew a windy breath. "I'd say that makes us the most interesting couple at the ball."

  He was right, of course. But necking for the sake of the mission irked her. Everything Dakota did was for some top-secret assignment, and now that included kissing her. "So what happens next?"

  "We go to the gazebo, retreat to a dark corner, and I slip away. From there I break into Payune's estate, switch the necklaces and return before anyone knows I'm gone."

  Panic rose in her throat as the sound of the ocean crashed in her ears. "You're going to leave me in the maze? Alone?"

  His voice gentled. "No, sweetheart. Thunder will take my place. In the dark, we're virtually twins. Same height, same body structure."

  Wonderful. She would be trapped in the maze with a stranger while Dakota took all the risks. "Why can't Thunder switch the necklaces?"

  "Because breaking and entering are my areas of expertise, not his."

  Kathy got a mental picture of a cat burglar – a tall, shadowy figure dressed in black. Dakota would do his part, and she would have to do hers. "It's a good plan," she said, reminding herself the future of a country was at stake.

  "Thanks." He removed a sheet of paper from his backpack, and it snapped in the wind. "Now all we have to do is memorize the key to the maze."

  "Is that a diagram of it?" she asked, leaning toward the paper.

  He nodded. "Looks like one of those magazine puzzles, doesn't it?"

  "Yes, it does." The pattern of the hedges had been outlined, along with a red line marking a zigzag path to the gazebo. She assumed the resourceful mercenary named Thunder had provided it.

  "Come sit here so we can study it together."

  Here, Kathy realized, undoubtedly meant between those long, denim-clad legs and against that big, broad chest. She frowned at the map. Didn't he have another copy? "Why do we have to share?"

  "So we can snuggle. Payune won't buy our cover if we flinch every time we touch." He adjusted his position to make room for her. "Since we have to get physical at the ball, we may as well get used to the idea now."

  Sure. Right. For the sake of the mission, she thought, hiding her frown. Settling herself between his legs, she leaned back, then held her breath. In spite of the chill, a sudden, unwelcome heat blazed through her body.

  "Relax," he whispered, slipping his arms around her waist. She let out the breath she was holding and tried to focus on the sway of the ocean, the color of the sand, the sprinkle of broken sea shells surrounding their blanket. But her concentration wavered. All she could think about was the pressure of her bottom nestled between his thighs.

  He moved closer and nuzzled her neck. He smelled like a familiar brand of aftershave, the one he had always worn. She swallowed and searched for a place to rest her hands.

  "You still feel stiff," he said.

  Well, so did he, she thought, lowering her hands to her own lap. But then his stiffness was beneath his zipper, and that probably didn't count.

  "I'm fine," she responded. But when he tugged at her earlobe with his teeth, she wasn't fine. She wanted to turn her head and capture his mouth, remember the first time they had kissed. The last time. Every time in between.

  He held the maze key out in front of her. The paper rippled in the wind. "Don't let it blow it
away," he told her.

  She grabbed it and held on for dear life. She felt him removing the decorative band from her hair, dislodging her ponytail. She knew he liked her hair loose, liked to run his hands through it, liked to mar her proper image.

  "Do you still think about me, Kathy?"

  In bed. He wanted to know if she climbed under the covers at night and thought about him, imagined the stroke of his tongue, the rock of his hips. That hard, powerful body thrusting into hers. "Yes."

  He placed his hand over hers, then began tracing the pattern of the map. When his jaw brushed the side of her cheek, his beard stubble grazed her skin. "I think about you, too. About all the things I used to do to you." His voice turned low – hushed and aroused. "The naughty things you used to do to me."

  Kathy moistened her lips.

  The naughty things you used to do to me.

  Suddenly the secluded beach called out to her – the allure of the wind, the scent of the sea, the passion of the sky. Now she remembered the last time they had made love. The way they had rolled over the bed, tugging at each other's clothes. His labored breathing, her hand closing over his arousal. The forceful kisses, the soft moans, the silky sensations. She had lowered her head to taste him, take him into her mouth while he'd fisted her unbound hair and raised his hips, his gaze following every urgent stroke.

  "You used to watch," Kathy heard herself say. You watched that night, she thought, that wild, bittersweet night.

  "And you used to make me crazy," he responded, scraping his jaw against her cheek once again. "So good. So crazy."

  Her heartbeat thudded in time with his, but she knew he wouldn't kiss her, wouldn't ease the forbidden hunger flowing through their veins. Instead he would make them both wait until tomorrow night. The mission, Kathy thought. As much as they lusted after each other, they still needed an excuse – even for a kiss.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  «^»

  Dakota walked down the hall, then stopped when he saw Kathy through her open doorway. She stood in front of a full-length mirror, checking her appearance. When she smoothed her dress, he allowed himself a long, languorous look.

  The emerald-colored gown clung to her curves in a lithe, elegant shimmer. The fabric, a watery satin, caught the light each time she moved. The neckline, decorated with a row of sequins, revealed a hint of cleavage. Her skin looked warm and smooth next to all that icy green.

  Her hair, he decided, had been styled with him in mind. It fell loose about her shoulders in thick, scarlet waves, both sides adorned with a diamond-and-emerald-studded comb. It appeared deliberately messy, yet fashionable. He could touch it, twine it around his fingers, lift it to his face, and no one would know. It was, Dakota thought with a smile, a hairstyle created for lovers.

  When she turned his way, her hand flew to her heart. "Oh my God! You scared the daylights out of me. How long have you been standing there?"

  Long enough to get turned on, he almost said, his smile tilting a little crookedly. "Just a few minutes."

  Her eyes, he noticed, had been enhanced with a smoky liner. The dark, sultry illusion made them appear even more catlike. "You look incredible, Kathy."

  She tilted her head, and diamonds winked at her ears. "Thank you."

  She slipped into satin pumps, and he wondered what she had going on under her dress. A corset-type bra? Silk panties? A garter belt and thigh-high hose? He moved into the room so he could enjoy her mouthwatering scent. He knew she had layered her favorite body products: powder, lotion, a strawberry mist. She smelled good enough to eat, so he imagined lathering her with whipped cream – a taste from her nipples – a line down her belly – a sweet, sexy flavor between those long, gorgeous legs.

  She would purr, he decided. Press herself against his mouth and make throaty little sounds.

  When she glanced up, he shoved his hands in his pockets and feigned a casual air. He wasn't behaving like an officer or a gentleman. But damn it, he wanted her. Wanted to bathe her with the afterglow of a warm, wet orgasm.

  "You look handsome, Dakota."

  He blinked, his blood still pumping lust through his veins. Struggling to focus, he glanced at his starched white shirt. He wore a traditional black tux with a pair of onyx cufflinks. Kathy had always liked the way he looked in formal attire. "Oh, yes. Thanks."

  She opened a sequin evening bag and placed a lace handkerchief, a gold compact and a tube of lipstick inside. Then reaching into the closet, she removed a shimmering green jacket that matched her sleeveless dress. "I'm ready."

  They walked toward the front door, then he turned and headed into the kitchen. "I forgot something." Opening the fridge, he removed a windowed box. "It's a wrist corsage." A delicate floral design he couldn't resist – a white orchid with gold ribbon and a spray of baby's breath shimmering with emerald glitter.

  "How did you know?" she asked, reaching for the flower, her voice soft with feminine wonder.

  "That it would match your gown?" he watched her slip the corsage around her wrist. "I didn't. I ordered it because it reminded me of you." And because he knew it would complement the diamonds and emeralds sparkling on her finger – the engagement ring and wedding band he had given her.

  An hour later they arrived at the palace, then stood with the other guests in a receiving line, waiting to pay their respects to the royal family. The king stood tall in a uniform that displayed his commander-in-chief status. Dakota assumed Payune drooled inwardly over that uniform, since the impressive armed forces rank came with the crown.

  The queen glittered in a diamond tiara and a sparkling gown, and young Prince Eric wore a serious expression, even though boyish excitement brightened his dark eyes.

  The ballroom dominated nearly an entire floor. Crystal chandeliers glimmered from the ceiling and leaded-glass doors led to the gardens. Tables in the dining area were set with candles, polished silver and fine linens. A velvet curtain with gold tie-backs signaled the entrance to the dance hall .

  Dakota wasn't the least bit nervous, but he was no longer out of his element. Tonight's agenda put him in control. The ball was now a crucial part of the mission.

  As the festivities got underway, Kathy spoke to a great number of people – most of them as noble as their prestigious European titles. Dakota kept one eye trained on Albert Payune and noticed the Grand Minister kept an equally close eye on him.

  Kathy excused herself from an elderly duke, and Dakota escorted her to the expansive buffet. It was, he thought, the most impressive spread he had ever seen. Each delicacy was a work of art, but Kathy had told him that renowned chefs from around the world had been flown in to prepare the menu. Serving platters brimmed with deviled quail eggs, gingered capon, crab soufflé, tender meats, fresh vegetables and exotic fruits. The dessert tables displayed decadent cakes, parfaits, tortes, tarts and meringues.

  They filled their plates and sat beside each other in their designated seats. Kathy sampled a lobster crepe, then looked up and smiled. Their gazes locked in an intense stare, and Dakota knew their minds had connected. Yesterday's erotic admission billowed between them like a warm, sensual cloud. Both still fantasized about being in each other's arms – aroused and naked.

  Her tongue darted out to taste the crepe, and he nearly groaned. He wanted to kiss her. Here. Right now. In front of the king and all of his fancily attired court.

  But as other guests occupied their table, Dakota reined in his hormones. And while they ate their meal, they engaged in varied conversations.

  On occasion Dakota glanced at Payune from across the room and noticed Payune kept stealing glances at the queen.

  After dessert and coffee, the king and queen danced the first waltz. Dakota and Kathy stood with other guests, watching the royal couple glide across the floor.

  "They look so right together," Kathy said, her voice tinged with sadness.

  Dakota frowned. His wife was still upset by the queen's troubled marriage. Or was it the reminder of their own broken
vows that she thought of tonight? He sensed this was not the moment to ask her to dance. Instead he suggested they explore the alcoves in the ballroom, and she readily agreed.

  The first windowed section held a pair of seventeenth-century Venetian chairs, and the second displayed borders of rose-covered silk and a marble table.

  Kathy examined a gilded vase on the table, and Dakota moved closer. "Did you wear your hair like that for me?" he asked, studying the tumbling red tresses she normally struggled to contain. He would not allow her sadness to linger. Not tonight.

  She hesitated, then met his gaze, her eyes as illuminating as her gown. "Yes," she said softly.

  "Because you knew I would want to run my hands through it?"

  "Yes," she whispered again.

  He skimmed her cheek. She hadn't reapplied her lipstick. Her lips were moist and slightly parted, just waiting for his. Dare he kiss her now? Inside the palace?

  He dropped his hand. He couldn't. There were too many guests milling about, too many foreign dignitaries, dukes and counts, lords and ladies.

  "Excuse me. Ma'am? Sir?" a voice said.

  Dakota cursed his lack of focus. Someone had managed to approach without his knowledge. And at the very moment he had been debating a kiss, no less. He raised an eyebrow at Kathy. She, too, seemed surprised. Unsure of what to expect, they turned simultaneously.

  Prince Eric stood before them. In spite of his regal posture and proper tuxedo, the boy's appearance made Dakota smile. The child's thick black hair rebelled from a slick side part, a cowlick fighting desperately for control. Apparently the young prince had hair as hard to tame as Kathy's.

  They responded to the boy as protocol dictated, and Dakota decided Prince Eric owned not an ounce of pretension. He was being groomed to rule an old-world country, but his manner put both Dakota and Kathy at ease.

  "Are you a United States Air Force lieutenant?" the boy asked Dakota, clearly wondering why he wasn't in uniform.

  "I retired from duty four years ago," Dakota told him.

  "Are you a pilot?"