Tenderness washed him, deep and powerful as the passion. “Are you sorry about that?”
She swallowed. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Then I’ll be sorry, too.” He dropped butterfly kisses over her face, touching her jawline, her eyebrow, the corner of her eye, anyplace he could reach, trying to press away any remnants of regret. “Later, I’ll be as sorry as you want. But right now, Kate, I can’t tell you how happy I am that I don’t have to try and leave you at a critical moment.”
Laughter bubbled up in her, a happy sound that brought her body closer, a jerky little movement with each chuckle.
He moved as slowly as he could, withdrawing by increments, easing back in, not knowing how far behind him she was, how long he might last.
But she wasn’t behind him at all. By the second thrust she was moaning, rotating her hips against him. Two more and she murmured “faster” between gasps, urging him on with the tilt of her pelvis, tugging him nearer with her legs wrapped around him.
He gave up any notion of control and surrendered to the passion. To her. They found the rhythm effortlessly—not hers, not his, but theirs.
It could have been a moment, it could have been a lifetime. And then Kate shattered beneath him, crying out, shaking, her inner muscles contracting around him, his name on her lips.
Yes, he thought in that extraordinary millisecond where he balanced at the edge, where the world, the future, the past, were all his.
This is it. It’s Kate.
Chapter 21
The Emperor should steam into Le Havre tomorrow morning. Very early, Jim hoped; the less time allotted to search the ship, the better.
“Where is she?” Johnny whispered urgently. The three of them—Jim, dressed in basic black; Johnny, pale, so twitchy he hadn’t been able to stand still for two consecutive seconds; and Ming Ho, who’d been recruited for the effort—lurked in a narrow passageway on the second-highest deck of the ship.
“These things take time,” Jim replied.
“But—”
“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”
Johnny edged up to the corner, peering around it until Jim yanked him back. “Do you want them to see you?”
“No. I just—” He bounced on his toes, cracking his knuckles until Jim was tempted to crack them for him, permanently. “I still don’t see why we had to wait until the last night. I mean, every night she’s in there…”
“Is one less night the prince has to find her,” Jim said, shaking his head at the thought. That Johnny Duffy, newsie, aspiring reporter, son of a tanner, had decided that the youngest and prettiest wife of a mysterious prince was his one true love still boggled his mind. It was outlandish and complicated enough that Jim would have backed right out, article be damned, except that Johnny’s love was, of course, the sad young woman he’d seen escorted from the top deck, and that made it very hard to walk away.
So he and Kate had done a little research. Her husband was a prince, all right. He’d had the great good fortune to be absolute ruler of a tiny little island called Balthelay that floated, nearly unnoticed, off the coast of Ceylon. He’d had the even greater good fortune to, about fifteen years ago, discover that the earth beneath his insignificant island was utterly packed with very large, very high quality rubies.
“So,” Jim said. “How many guards?”
The prince had taken over the entire corridor of rooms, laying out an amount that, it was rumored, was greater than the contest prize to displace the intended passengers.
“Eight, I think,” Johnny said.
“One for each wife’s room, two for his door,” Jim murmured. “Well, Ming Ho, what do you think?”
He smiled in anticipation. “Not a problem.”
“So you’re just going to go knocking on every door until you find her?” Johnny asked.
“That’s the general idea.”
“But all those guards—”
“Let us worry about the guards, okay?” The kid was on the verge of working himself up into a nice frenzy of worry, Jim thought. As if they didn’t have enough to concern themselves with as it was.
“But what if she’s in the prince’s room? How are you going to—”
“That’s where Kate comes in.”
“But why would he let her in if he’s already with…” And then Johnny promptly forgot whatever he was about to say, his jaw dropping as he stared over Jim’s shoulder.
Kate sashayed down the passageway toward them. She was clad in shimmering red that clung to every curve, the neckline exposing an amount of cleavage that bordered on illegal. She wore no jewelry, nothing to distract from the wide expanse of creamy skin, and her hair flowed down around her shoulders. In one hand she carried a bottle of champagne, two glinting crystal flutes in the other.
Jim waved his hand in front of Johnny’s glazed eyes. “True love. Romantic rescue. Happily ever after. Remember?”
“Huh. Oh. Oh! Yeah.” He swallowed. “Okay. I get it now.”
“So,” Kate said as she reached them. “Everybody ready?”
Jim took the bottle for a moment so he could kiss her hand. “Madame, you have truly outdone yourself.”
She bobbed a curtsy before reclaiming the bottle. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“Where’d you get the dress? That’s truly…amazing,” he said, though that didn’t even come close to covering it.
“I have my ways.”
“That you do,” Jim said softly. “That you do.”
They might have stood there all night, smiling at each other in intimate communication, if Ming Ho had not reminded them. “It’s time.”
“Yes,” Jim said. “Just one more thing.” He frowned at Kate, putting on what she thought of as his command expression. “Fifteen minutes,” he told her sternly. “Or I’m coming after you. You need us earlier, just yell.”
“I won’t need,” she said, supremely confident. “Not right now, anyway. Later…” He stopped her with a kiss, quick and hard. Watch out, be careful, we’ll finish this later.
She whirled, her hair drifting and settling like spun gold. Hips swaying, she glided around the corner, going into battle in her own way.
“Fifteen minutes,” he reminded her, loud as he dared. It would do no good to worry about her, he thought, even as his gut twisted. She was in familiar territory.
“All right,” he said, turning to his troops. Ming Ho grinned at him.
“You and Miss Riley,” he said. “You…” He nodded. “Good.”
“Yes, me and Miss Riley.” And yeah, it was good. Maybe too good. “Take the right side of the passageway. I’ll take the left.”
“What about me?” Johnny asked, so eager he might just choke on it.
“Stay out of the way.”
The guards were even bigger up close. Surprising that a country as small as Balthelay managed to grow so many large specimens. They were all nearly as wide as the doors they guarded, their heads all turned toward Kate, strolling provocatively down the hall, the luscious sway of her hips drawing their full attention.
Guess they’re not eunuchs after all, Jim thought, slipping quietly up behind the first. He tapped him on the shoulder, the giant turned, and he jabbed him beneath the chin before the distracted guard registered his presence. He caught him as he dropped.
He glanced to see how Ming Ho was doing. He was creeping up on the second man already, the first one propped against the wall, jaw open, head sagging, completely out. One quick clip of the side of Ming Ho’s hand against the guard’s neck and this one, too, was out cold.
Kate had nearly reached the end of the passageway. She glanced over her shoulder, wiggling her fingers, and the next guard took a step in her direction. That was as far as he got.
The fellows might be good with their swords, Jim thought, but they sure couldn’t take a punch. Heavy, though, Jim noted as he caught the full brunt of the guard’s weight, enough to make him stagger beneath it, but he’d make too much noise if allo
wed to simply crash to the floor.
He glanced quickly at Kate to check her progress. She was right on schedule, smiling dazzlingly at the two guards stationed in front of the door near the end of the passageway before disappearing through it.
Damn. Just because it was the plan and Jim had agreed to it didn’t mean he had to like it.
But their luck didn’t hold. Some noise, some sense, had finally alerted the remaining guards. They turned toward Jim, eyes rounding as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Two rushed him, gorilla arms upraised, big feet pounding, while another headed for Ming Ho.
Balling his fists, Jim found his balance and waited. It had been a while—years, actually—since he’d thrown himself into a good barroom brawl. He hoped he hadn’t lost his touch.
They were almost upon him, shoulder to shoulder, too close together in the tight confines of the passageway to mount a spread attack. He waited one beat, then crouched and sprang forward, driving upward with each fist.
They reeled back, clutching their bellies. A kick to the chest for one, an elbow to the chin for the other. A couple taps to the noggin with his fist and the two of them finally went down.
He stepped around the pile of their bodies.
Whoops. The last guard pounded toward him, legs pumping, face red. This one, though, had thought to draw his sword and held it in both fists, twisted back like a baseball player expecting an easy pitch.
Jim jumped back just as he swung, the blade whistling by an inch from his stomach. But he’d back jumped too far, forgetting about the two motionless guards right behind him, and he went down.
The guard with the sword had swung too hard, as if he’d planned to lop Jim in half with one blow. The force of the swing spun him halfway around, giving Jim clear aim at his broad backside. Jim kicked hard with both feet and the guard pitched forward, sword flying out of his grip.
Jim scrambled out of the tangle of thick limbs—he must have hit them good, they hadn’t moved a muscle even when he fell on top of them—and went after the guard still—barely—on his feet. Without his sword, off balance, he wasn’t much of a challenge. The bigger they are, the slower they are…
Chest heaving, blood pumping, the guard at his feet, Jim spun to give Ming Ho a hand. Ming Ho leaned comfortably against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest, slumbering guards lined up neatly beside him. “What took you so long?”
Jim dabbed at the blood across his knuckles with the corner of his shirt. “Thanks for the help.”
“Wouldn’t want to spoil your fun, would I?”
And it was fun. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be forced to live in the moment, every sense, every thought, concentrated in the lone task of surviving for one more second.
Johnny dashed up to them, vibrating with excitement. “Oh, that was great!” He jabbed at the air with his fists. “Do you think you fellows could teach me—”
“No.”
“Oh.” His face fell briefly, brightened an instant later. Ah, the resiliency of youth. “I’m surprised no more guards showed up, once you all started making noise. Their room must be around here somewhere.” He slashed at the air, hands flat, just like he’d seen Ming Ho chop at the guards. “I was ready for ’em, though.”
“They’re all sleeping,” Jim said.
“Sleeping?”
“Like babies,” Ming Ho put in, grinning. “Strange that men so big hold their brandy so poorly, isn’t it?”
“But—”
“Come on.” Jim grabbed Johnny by the shoulder and gave him a gentle shove toward the nearest door. “Start knocking.”
“But there have to be more guards in the prince’s room, don’t you think?” The kid could clearly not take a hint. The image Jim had been fighting since Kate entered the cabin spread in his brain, corrosive as an acid spill: Kate, struggling with the prince, while impassive guards stood around them, swords at the ready.
“Probably never allowed to leave the prince’s quarters while he’s in residence,” Ming Ho said, glancing sympathetically at Jim. “Now knock.”
Jim started on the other side while Ming Ho took the far end. He rapped quickly. No answer. He pounded harder. Nothing.
The door wasn’t locked. He poked his head inside. The cabin was twice the size of Kate’s, in soft rose and yellow, packed with trunks nearly to the ceiling. No one. He closed the door and moved on.
At the next cabin a woman answered the door before he even finished knocking. Perhaps Jim’s age, he guessed, though it was hard to tell with the turquoise robes that nearly covered her, and the brief glimpse he got before she gasped and slammed the door in his face.
He moved to the next without any better luck, until he stood before the door that Kate had entered minutes before. He glared at the wood as if that could help him see through into what was happening within, his insides twisting. Careful, love.
The knob turned and he sprang away, flattening himself against the wall, and his heart thumped. A guard? Or Kate?
Neither. A slight figure, enveloped in drifts of crimson, stepped out. She turned to stare at the door as it closed behind her, faint puzzlement on her face.
Mission accomplished. Right wife. Now to get her safely out of here before the guards woke up.
“Miss…” he began.
She turned her head toward him and gasped.
“No, no, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “We’ve come to rescue you.”
She backed away from him, shaking her head, panicked eyes darting from side to side.
“No, really. Don’t worry.”
She babbled something at him, completely unintelligible.
Oh, just wonderful. The girl didn’t speak a word of English. Just how the hell did that brat reporter know she needed rescuing if he never so much as spoke to her? When he got his hands on him—
And then she stopped backing away, her gaze focused behind Jim. She straightened, a shimmer of moisture glazing her eyes, and smiled brilliantly.
Johnny came forward, hands outstretched. Without a second’s hesitation, she placed hers in his.
“Ahh,” Ming Ho said as he arrived from the far end of the passageway. “Young love. Isn’t it sweet?”
“Yeah. Sweet.” And stupid and impulsive and fragile. He’d take what he and Kate had now—whatever it was, and he was far from ready to name it—over what they’d had a dozen years ago any day. Good luck, kids, you’re going to need it. “Let’s get going.”
They herded the young lovers around the corner to where Mrs. Latimore and Miss Dooley awaited them.
“There you are,” Miss Dooley said. “I was having a terrible time keeping Anne from running to your assistance.”
“I take it this is our young lady?” Mrs. Latimore stepped toward the young woman, who shrank away, huddling against Johnny’s narrow chest.
“Johnny neglected to mention that she doesn’t speak any English.”
Mrs. Latimore’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “None?”
“We don’t need any.” Johnny looped his arms around the girl, two against the world.
“Is that right?” Mrs. Latimore asked coolly.
“I still don’t understand why she can’t stay with me tonight,” Johnny said, the sulky droop of his mouth making him look years younger.
“Because the prince is unlikely to think of looking for her with Mrs. Latimore,” Jim said, struggling to hold on to his patience. They’d been over this. And Kate was still in there. With him. “And Ming Ho has a plan to get her off the ship unseen. It’s simply much safer this way, Johnny. It’s been working so far. Let’s just keep with the plan, okay?”
For a moment it looked like mutiny. Then Johnny sighed, an end-of-my-world sigh, and Jim almost felt sorry for the kid. He was so very lost on the girl. “All right.” He led her over to Mrs. Latimore and carefully, as if she were spun of glass, put her hand in Mrs. Latimore’s strong one. As Mrs. Latimore led her away, the prince’s wayward bride looked longingly ove
r her shoulder at Johnny. He nodded his reassurance.
“Might as well go to my room,” he said thickly, blinking rapidly, when they’d turned out of sight.
“You do that,” Jim said, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”
And now he would make sure everything was all right, Jim thought, heading for the prince’s suite.
“You told her you’d give her fifteen minutes,” Ming Ho reminded him.
“It has to have been at least twenty.”
“No. Perhaps ten.”
“Ten’s more than enough.” Once the guards were out of commission and he’d an instant to think, he’d spent every second of those ten minutes worrying what the prince could be doing with that time. And with Kate.
“She’ll be fine.”
Maybe she would. But he wouldn’t, not if he had to endure one more second before assuring himself of her welfare.
But then she was there with him minus the champagne and glasses but—at least as far as Jim could see—with everything else, her hair smooth and shining, her dress unrumpled, a pleased smile on her face.
“There. You see?” Ming Ho said, and disappeared before either one noticed his absence. Jim just stood there stupidly, staring at her while his heart steadied and his fear eased.
He longed to reach for her, right there in the hallway. Strip off that garish dress and inspect her from head to toe and find out for himself that she was completely unharmed.
“So,” he said around the clot in his throat, “any problems?”
“Not a one,” she said serenely. “The girl who was in there—is she the one?”
“Yes.”
Kate nodded. “Thought so.”
“You had no trouble getting her out?”
“Oh, no. The prince was pleased to speak with me in private.”
“Private?” He almost strangled on the word.
She laughed softly and looped her arm through his, leaning comfortably against him. “Well, as private as it can be with four guards there. Apparently they don’t count.”
“He speaks English?”
“Oh yes. Quite well, actually. Studied in England before inheriting the throne. A very worldly man.”
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