To Love a Thief (Steel Hawk) (9 page)

“What? Are you becoming a royal voyeur?”

“No. The princess is in London, and the news is that her son is coming soon. Any other members of the royal family present?”

“I believe her brother-in-law, Prince Randolph, is somewhere, but he wasn’t at the dinner. He was the younger brother.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Not much. He seems to stay in the background. What are you getting at, Nathan?”

Nathan frowned. “That’s just it, I’m not sure, yet. Just a hunch.”

“Care to expand on your hunch?”

“Let’s just say, keep your eyes and ears open, Ben, and if you find anything out, let me know.”

“And how do I do that, my friend? You’re off carousing through London, getting yourself beaten up.”

Nathan offered a faint smile, wincing as his cut lips split in the process. “Just be alert. If you hear anything you think
interesting,
get word to me at Harry Biggins’s pub, the Cock and Hen.” Nathan rose and turned toward the door that led to his room. “Now I need to clean up and change clothes, and get back to Rosie.”

”Rosie! Rose Valetta. You’re with her? You’re meant to be finding the diamond, Nathan, not playing footsies with the woman. Bloody hell.” Ben jammed his hands in his trouser pockets. “For all we know, she stole the Pasha Star in the first place.”

“She didn’t.”

Ben’s gaze narrowed on him. Nathan knew that look. Ben was summing him up. Many a time they had sat across the business table from their competitors or companies they wanted to impress, and Ben got
that
look.

Nathan exhaled a hard sigh. “She didn’t steal it. She wants to get the bastards who did. They have her father. That’s all. She wants her father, and we want the diamond back.”

“Her father? What the hell for?”

“Alex Valetta is the supreme craftsman at making paste jewelry, so I would hazard a guess they want him to make a fake of the Pasha Star.”

Ben slammed a hand across his forehead. “Oh, sweet Jesus. So why the hell hang around her? She’ll give them the diamond to get her father back. You’re playing with fire, Nathan.”

“Play with Rosie? Hell, no, I’d surely get burned to a crisp.”

* * * * *

More than an hour later, bathed and refreshed and dressed in her rightful attire, Rose wandered around her small home.

Nathan had gone out for a while, saying he needed to get some clean clothes. To keep her mind occupied and not focused on whether Nathan would return, she righted chairs and collected the scattered books, caressing their covers. Reading was her love, her chance to escape. She gathered up the edition of Dickens that her mother had given her the year of her death and hugged it to her chest, shaking her head.

“Why?”

She sank into the faded tapestry chair, then pulled her legs up beneath her. Idly, her fingers caressed the tattered leather book cover, the inlay of gold lettering for the title long faded.

A strident hammering on the workshop door downstairs shattered the silence. Rose jumped from the seat.

Who was it? Had those men returned?

She backed up several steps, terror careering through her brain and holding her captive.

The hammering erupted again, a shout accompanying it. “Rosie, it’s me, open up.”

Nathan!

Dropping the book onto the chair, she raced down the stairs and yanked at the locks she’d fixed into place the moment he’d left. She drew the door open wide.

Never had she been so pleased to see Nathan Hawk. She flung herself at him, grateful when he wrapped her in his arms.

“Well, that’s a reaction I didn’t expect.” His warm laughter caught her off guard, and she realized what she had done.

Untangling her arms from around his neck, she jerked away. “I…thought you were my father.”

Liar!

She crossed her arms across her middle as if to ward him off.

And to protect my heart.

Just as he’d said he would, he’d gone and changed, but this wasn’t the dapper man she’d met so briefly at the hotel in his finest clothes. Now he wore the threadbare trousers and jacket of a man down on his luck. Her gaze dropped to his feet. The expensively tooled leather shoes had been replaced too with scuffed boots.

“I thought it best I blend in,” he said, answering her unspoken question.

“You look like the Nathan from the past.”

“That’s intentional.”

After they’d gone back upstairs, he dropped a canvas satchel on the table. “I brought some food with me,”

“I am not a charity case.” Then immediately she rescinded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, I’m…”

“Tired. Worried. Scared.”

“I don’t want to be. I want to be out there.” She pointed toward the small window overlooking the street, then wandered over to it, peering out into the now late afternoon light. Streams of gold and pink glazed the rooftops, transporting this humble street of workmen’s homes into a glittering world. She turned away from the view, away from the hope of seeing her father turn the corner and wave up to her. “I need to get out and find him.”

“We will.”

“When?”

“Have you eaten?”

Rose glanced away, teeth scraping her bottom lip as she shuffled from foot to foot. She had ignored food, though her rumbling stomach reminded her.

“I thought as much. Heat some water for tea, and I’ll cut up some cheese and bread for us.”

Rose wanted to argue, but when she saw Nathan withdraw the large round of cheese and the fresh loaf of crusty bread, her stomach decided to make it known it wanted sustenance. She inhaled, eyes shutting momentarily as the aroma of bread and the strong cheese mingled.

The scrape of one of the two wooden chairs across the planked floor stopped her salivating, and she opened her eyes, only to realize Nathan was sitting and staring at her. She stiffened, expecting one of his famous cutting remarks, only it didn’t come.

“We’ll find him, Rosie. Don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done.”

The water heated, and she made tea for them both. They sat in silence, eating. Rose wanted to ask how they would find her father. Where? When? But she knew the questions were unanswerable.

“Did you see your business partner?”

Nathan’s mood sobered. “I did.” But it hadn’t been just Ben he’d sought out, though he was grateful Ben would keep an ear to the ground. Nathan had also been trying to find out what had happened to Tommy Pratchett.

He’d come up empty. No one had seen or heard from him for some time.

“Your lack of enthusiasm would hint that he’s none too happy with you.”

“Perceptive as ever, squirt.”

The moment the nickname passed his lips, Nathan witnessed the flash of annoyance cross Rose’s violet eyes as they darkened to the color of the spinel gems Alex used to craft when making his replicas. “It slipped out. But it
is
a form of endearment.”

She rolled her eyes in response.

“I’m sorry it took me longer to get back than I anticipated,” Nathan said, trying to make conversation. He wondered why it felt so awkward now. It never had before. Not when she had been younger. However, Rose Valetta was no longer the kid who had hung around and annoyed him.

In his absence, she had shed her men’s attire and now wore a dress of dark green linen that had seen better days, the neckline slightly frayed, the white lace collar yellowed. Beneath the lace, he observed the rise and fall of her breasts.

She never had breasts before.

Shut the hell up!

“That color suits you,” he said dragging anything from his brain that made any sense.

Her hand flew to her neck, cheeks heating a delicate shade of pink.

What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking of kisses?

But he knew. Deep down, in a place he didn’t want to consider, he knew exactly why. He remembered. Remembered kissing her, and wanting more, then wanting to shoot himself for that wanting.

“Ben was about to head to the opening of the exhibition.”

“And you’ve missed the spectacle. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but it was important to your company.”

“Not as important as finding the diamond and Alex.” A wave of sadness swept across her expression, and he said, “We will find him, Rosie.”

She offered a forced smile, and he knew right then that he wanted her to really smile, that funny, laughing smile he remembered.

He shot to his feet, shoving back his chair. Its legs scraped across the floor. “Damn it.” He strode over to the window, drawing both hands through his hair as he stared out at the street below.

“Nathan?”

He caught the sudden apprehension in Rose’s voice and pivoted back to her. “Sorry. It’s…it’s just getting to me. We don’t have much to go on.” Hell, they really didn’t have anything, though he didn’t want to upset Rosie any more than she was now. He knew how much she loved her father.

The little helper.

He paced the room, trying to connect the pieces of information they did know, and then suddenly he stopped and faced her. “Are you sure the men were from Zarrenburg?”

“I heard them speak the language of my father’s birth country.”

Nathan wiped a hand across his freshly shaved jaw. “And we saw the flag flying high, so that confirms it.”

“Surely only those of royal birth would fly the country’s flag?”

“True.”

“But, Nathan, that would mean someone within the family wants the diamond.”

“It would seem that way.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t quite make sense.” Nathan continued his pacing, shaking his head. Coming to a halt beside the tattered chair, he sank onto it, only to half rise straight away to pull out an old book he’d not seen as he sat.

He held it out to Rosie. “Sorry.” Then pulled back a fraction. “Dickens?”

“Yes. I read it to relax. Papa is always saying I can never put it down.”

She went to take it, but their fingers didn’t meet, and the book dropped to the floor.

He bent to retrieve it, but a page fell out. “Oh, hell, I’m sorry. I…” He gathered the book up and the piece of paper that fell from the book and went to pass it to Rosie, hesitating as his gaze latched on to the engraving. He frowned. “Why would you have this?”

“Have what?”

He pointed to the piece of paper and the gilded crest stamped at the top of the page.

Rose snatched the paper from him. “It’s the Zarrenburg crest.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Papa showed it to me once.” She turned the paper over several times, her fingertips trailing the engraved crest. “There’s an address. Or part of it.” She brought the paper closer for inspection. “It’s a London address.” Surprise registered in her voice as she lifted her gaze to his. “Mayfair.” She held out the scrap of paper to him.

Relief powered through Nathan. He stood and scooped her up with him. “You did it, Rosie. You did it. We’ve got our first real clue.”

“But what is it?”

“It’s the address don’t you see. Something that connects those men from Zarrenburg with…well, whatever this address is.”

Skepticism over ran through her excitement. “Are you sure? It’s just an address. It doesn’t mean it’s from anyone who is involved.”

“But it is a link,” Nathan reiterated. “Have you seen this paper before?”

“No…but…”

“No buts, squirt. This gives us something, at least.”

Her laughter rang out, and he twirled her around and around, holding her close.

It felt wonderful, and as her bubbling laughter echoed around the room, he found her joy contagious. His right hand held her to him, his other hand tangling in her hair. “We make a good team, squirt.”

Suddenly, he was kissing her, capturing her laughter.

He felt her body still, the faint hesitation, but he did not, could not stem this need to return to that moment all those years ago. He cradled her to him, wondering if what he remembered had simply been a mirage, a fantasy.

Nathan kissed her, and it was just as she remembered it. Had dreamed of all these years.

Oh, she was a fool, but she couldn’t pull away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers delighting in the sensation when she trailed them through his hair.

But that was nothing compared to the feelings careening through. He tasted delicious and smelled of musk.

Senses overwhelmed, she lost herself to the moment. The taste of him. The feel of his hard body against hers. The comfort, and more. Much more.

“Just as you always were,” he whispered against her ear.

Always?

Reality crashed back as if she’d been doused in ice water, and she wrenched herself from his hold, shocked at the state of her dress. The neckline was askew, the top tiny buttons of the lace collar undone, and her hair in disarray.

Rose swallowed back her shame. Shame because she had let herself believe and hope. “You should not have done that.”

“Probably not.” Nathan’s face was a mask of propriety, his tone controlled. Where was the emotion she’d been feeling? Because if not for the brutal return of reality, she would not have stopped kissing him. “But you cannot deny you enjoyed it, Rosie.”

“I am not some strumpet you can pick up and put down at whim.” He had kissed her once, and she had lost her head, only to find he’d disappeared the next day, never to be seen again.

Until now.

No. She would not let go of her heart again. Could not. And definitely not to Nathan. “You are here to find my father and the diamond. That is all. Keep your distance, Mr. Hawk.”

Mischievous humor glinted in his eyes and bitter annoyance and fury at him overrode her lust. She stamped her foot. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”

He held up his hands. “I surrender.”

“And keep away. Don’t touch me. Don’t—”

“Kiss you? I rather liked it. Wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“No!” Oh, she wanted to, and her protest was feeble at best. “This isn’t helping to find my father, and I would expect recovering the diamond is far more important than kissing me.”

Subdued, Nathan took several steps backward. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He jabbed a thumb toward the scrap of paper now lying on the floor beside the book. “That is the Zarrenburg crest, and the only place in London that it could come from is the country’s royal London residence.”