Tycoon Warrior. Sheri WhiteFeather
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why we’re here.” Angry now, she continued to study the foliage. She wouldn’t allow him to spoil the allure of her garden, a place where mystical creatures made magic. She wanted to believe that fairies fluttered around the flowers, and mermaids splashed in the ocean below.
“Kathy?”
She turned toward him with a hard stare. “What?”
He handed her one of the chocolates from the bed, an apology in his voice. “Truffles. They’re your favorite.”
She bit into the candy and savored the richness, the gentleness in his tone. “Is that why you offered me this room?” A silk-draped room with all the elements Kathy adored—scented candles, fresh-cut flowers, lace-trimmed sheers.
He smiled, but it fell short of reaching his eyes. He was worried, she realized. Worried about the mission, worried about being in an isolated cottage with his estranged wife. There was still so much distance between them, so much unnamed hurt. But how could she tell him that he hadn’t loved her enough? That she needed more?
“You should unpack and get settled in,” he said.
“I will.” She searched his gaze. “Who is your contact, Dakota? Have I met him before?”
He shook his head. “No, but he’s someone I’ve known a long time. A former intelligence officer, another skin.”
Kathy knew that meant Dakota’s contact was Native American. “Comanche?” she asked.
“Apache. Goes by the name Thunder. If something goes wrong on this assignment, he’ll get in touch with you, Kathy. He vowed to look after you.”
She didn’t want to think about something going wrong, but she couldn’t pretend the danger wasn’t real. A man in Royal had been murdered by one of Payune’s anarchists, and now they were on Payune’s soil.
“Is Thunder a mercenary?” She knew Dakota didn’t consider himself a mercenary because serving merely for pay wasn’t his objective.
Dakota nodded. “Yes, but that doesn’t make him someone you can’t trust. He took a bullet for me. I owe him my life. We even look similar, like brothers.”
Feeling an emotional chill, she crossed her arms. How many bullets had Dakota dodged? How many times had his life been spared? “Do you want me to unpack for you?” she asked, hoping he would understand why she had offered. She needed to place his clothes in the closet, his shaving gear in the bathroom. She used to unpack for him whenever he came home from an assignment. To her it meant he would be staying, at least for a while.
He didn’t answer. Instead he remained motionless, staring at her. Her husband stood so close, she could see every eyelash, every pore in his sun-baked skin. And now she remembered how it felt to stroke his face. That intense face—smooth in some areas, rough in others.
Kathy moistened her lips. She wanted to grip his shoulders, lean into him and press her body against all that male hardness, feel her bones dissolve while his tongue stroked hers.
“You better go,” she heard herself say.
She had no right to want him, not now, not after all the tears she had cried, the baby she had lost. Dakota would forever be walking away. There would always be another assignment, another mission—something more important than his marriage.
He left the cottage, and she decided not to unpack for him. Touching his clothes would only make her ache.
Hours later Dakota returned from his meeting to find Kathy in the garden. Rather than disturb the moment, he watched her. She stood beside the fountain, wearing a pale cotton dress that billowed softly in the breeze. Her hair fell loose from its confinement, long silky strands framing her profile. She belonged in the setting, he thought. The foliage reached out to her, colorful blooms and lush greenery graced by her presence.
He felt like an intruder. But he had some news, and it couldn’t wait. Bad news, it seemed, never could.
“Kathy?” he said softly.
She turned. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were back.”
“I haven’t been here long.” He hated to spoil the serenity, the beauty of what he had come to think of as her garden. Her enchanted garden. He had no right to be there. Dakota wasn’t a dreamer. To him life consisted of reality—hard, strong doses of it.
“Any new information?” she asked.
He nodded. “A valuable necklace was stolen last night, and Thunder is convinced Payune is responsible.” Dakota shifted his stance. “It belonged to the Duchess of Olin. A rare ruby heirloom that will command a substantial price on the black market.”
“Now Payune has another means to fund his revolution.”
“That’s right. He couldn’t get his hands on the Lone Star jewels, so he went after the next best thing.”
Kathy frowned. “How are we going to get around this? You can’t very well infiltrate Payune’s operation if he doesn’t need the money you intend to offer.”
“True. But Payune is still powerless until he fences the necklace.” Dakota felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his veins, nervous energy he couldn’t shake. This mission had become even riskier, and his wife was his partner. That thought didn’t sit well. “I have to retrieve the necklace. Steal it back, so to speak.”
Kathy’s face paled. “How’s that going to work? Payune will become suspicious of everyone who comes into contact with him. If the necklace is taken from him, he’ll know that someone is trying to stop him from funding the revolution. And it won’t take him long to look in your direction, not once you approach him with your cover.”
“This won’t affect my cover.” Dakota resisted the urge to pace, to stalk the garden path. “The Duchess has a paste copy of the necklace. It’s the one she wears in public, and it’s extremely high quality—identical to the original. So all I have to do is switch them. Payune will never know he was robbed.”
“Not until he tries to fence it and discovers it’s fake.”
“True, but that’s the beauty of this plan.” Because Kathy was still frowning, Dakota sent her a roguish grin. “Payune will think he nabbed the wrong necklace to begin with, rather than suspect foul play.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “It could work.”
“It has to. We don’t have much time. Thunder thinks the necklace will be fenced right after the ball. Late that night. He has a pretty good handle on who’s backing the sale.”
“The ball is three days from now.”
“Which is why I’ve secured a meeting with Payune tomorrow. I need to establish my cover before he tries to sell the necklace. If I wait to approach him, he just might put two and two together.”
A light breeze blew the loose stands of Kathy’s hair. “When are you going to switch the necklaces? You have to do it before the ball.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll let you know when I’ve got the details worked out.” Dakota was going to need her help. And Thunder’s, too. It would take the three of them to pull this off.
He motioned toward the stone path leading back to the cottage. “Why don’t we go inside? I could use a cup of coffee.” He had more news. Something that would take an emotional toll on Kathy, something he hated to tell her.
While Kathy brewed a pot of coffee, a wave of homesickness washed over Dakota. Not for Texas, but for her. He missed having her nearby, watching her do simple tasks. Her feet were bare, and more of her hair had come loose. He could almost imagine them snuggling in front of the TV, eating popcorn the way they used to.
Life had never been particularly simple for Dakota, but being married to Kathy made the world a better place. She brought out the good in him. Or at least he’d thought so. Kathy must have felt differently. A woman