The Rebel King

width by modern standards, but so high it would require steps to get in and out of easily, with four tall posts and a canopy frame soaring toward the shadowed ceiling. It was made of some kind of dark wood, maybe mahogany? And in a style Rhia- no expert-thought might be Queen Anne. At the foot of the bed was a large chest, made of different wood than the bed- cedar, surely-and studded and bound with brass, probably meant to store blankets and comforters during the warm summer months. It was much bigger than the chest King Weston had shown them, the chest that held the proof of Nikolas's identity. But even Rhia could see that it had been crafted by the same hands.

Slowly, as if it were some sort of alien and possibly dangerous artifact. Nikolas reached out his hand to touch the chest's vaulted lid. 'I thought maybe…I had hoped…' he murmured as he watched his fingers brush settling dust from the intricately inlaid wood. A smile tugged painfully and unsuccessfully at his lips, and he finally just shook his head. 'I thought there was a chance, at least…that it could have been someone else who put it there, in the old pavilion. Someone who simply happened by and thought it would make a convenient hiding place…' He looked at her then, and the pain in his eyes struck her like a blow. 'You know?'

She shook her head, bewildered and obscurely frightened. 'No. I don't,' she said flatly, folding her arms to keep them from reaching for him. tapping her foot like an angry wife. 'I don't know because you haven't told me, Nikolas. What is it, dammit? What was it about that chest-and now this one- that has you looking like…like…I don't know-like you've seen a ghost?'

He exhaled, drew a hand over his face and slowly lowered himself onto the chest. 'A ghost? Maybe I have, at that.' Again, he tried to smile. 'Except…I don't think inanimate objects can have ghosts, can they?'

'Dammit, Donovan-'

'Rhee… my love.' He reached for her hands and drew her to him. guiding her between his knees as his eyes roamed her face with a tenderness that made her ache. 'Don't you know, it's not because I want to keep this from you that I haven't told you. It's just…difficult for me to talk about it at all, you see. I think…because saying it out loud…saying the words…makes it real.' His eyes held hers as his legs pressed inward, locking her hips between them. His hands slipped under her jacket and skimmed upward along the sides of her waist. 'Then, once I've said it, I can't keep dodging around it any longer. Do you understand?'

When she nodded, he released a breath that sounded like a pressure valve letting go. closed his eyes and drew her close. And he seemed to relax then…like someone walking into his home after a long hard day. She stared past him into the deepening twilight until her eyes burned, fighting a powerful desire to weave her fingers through his hair and cradle his head against her breasts. Instead, she gripped his shoulders hard and said very softly. 'Do you understand that if you don't tell me this instant, I will strangle you?'

He drew back from her. laughing, sounding like himself again, as if holding her for just those short minutes had recharged him. 'Ah-my little pit bull terrier. Yes. All right then.' He caught a quick, exaggerated breath and said with a lightness that didn't fool her a bit. 'The reason seeing the chest sent me into a bit of a tailspin is because I'd seen it before.'

'What?'

'Or one like it. I should say. Almost like it.'

'But, Nikolas, that's not-'

'Hush.' He silenced her with a finger pressed gently to her lips. 'Let me explain. When I saw this one, I knew. They were obviously made as a set, identical except for the size. This is the largest. I would think, the one Weston has would be the smallest, unless, of course, there are more than three. Mine-the one I saw-is a size between the two. They must have been meant to nest inside one another, do you see? Like Chinese boxes.'

Rhia nodded automatically…then shook her head, because she didn't see at all. 'But why should that upset you? So, they're a set-even I could see they're the same. So what? Where did you see this other one? Are you sure it's even the same?'

His lips curved in an odd, bitter smile. 'Oh, yes. I'm absolutely sure. It was mine, you see. Or rather, my uncle's. When I was a child, growing up, I kept my stuff in it-my bits and pieces. My favorite toys, books, the odd treasure I'd found. So I could hardly mistake it, could I?'

He watched her face as he said it, amazed at how easy it was to utter the words after all, and how swiftly the unthinkable became reasonable and logical when shared with someone else. And how relieved he felt, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

He saw her eyes narrow slightly and take on a kind of glow, like a hunting tiger's. 'So…your uncle must have been working for Lord Vladimir-he had to be.' Her voice was hushed, vibrant with excitement. 'He was probably someone very close to him, too-a valet, maybe. His right-hand man. Someone he trusted with your care and upbringing, anyway. You know what that means? It means…'

Nikolas nodded. 'If anyone knows where the bounder is. It's Silas Donovan. We have to talk to him, Nik.'

For a long moment they simply looked at each other, her hands tense on his shoulders, his on her sides, his fingers curving around her slender torso, his head tipped slightly back. And as he gazed at her shimmering eyes and raptly parted lips the thought finally came clear to him like a gentle explosion, the pop and sizzle of a Chinese fireworks candle, to sear itself forever into his consciousness: I love this woman.

The pain that had twisted like a knife in his belly for weeks was gone. Now, instead of dread when he thought about the future, he felt full of optimism, even excitement. If his becoming king was what it was going to take to bring democracy to Silvershire, he'd do it, by God-as long as Rhia de Hayes consented to be his queen. With her by his side, he could face any challenge, defeat any foe. Never mind the fog outside the windows, the growing darkness in the room; in Nikolas's soul the sun had come from behind the clouds and was shining warm and bright.

'Nik?'

'Yes, luv?'

'Do you know where he is-Silas-' Her voice seemed to snag on a breath. 'Why are you looking at me like that?'

'I'm bedazzled. It's merely one of the hazards of being this close to you-another is that I keep getting this dangerous desire to make love to you on the spot.' He saw a lovely pink flush creep across her cheeks and thought of soft, sweet things…like kittens and rose petals.

'I do know where we might find him,' he said softly as he moved his hands stealthily upward under her jacket. 'But there's nothing we can do tonight…not until Elliot gets back with the chopper. And in the meantime…didn't we leave something rather important unfinished?'

'You mean…supper?' Her lips curved with her kitty-cat smile.

He laughed and said huskily. 'No…dessert.'

Inside the jacket her body was warm and humid, and her breasts seemed to swell when his hands covered them, to make a perfect fit. He watched her eyes as he spread his fingers slowly, absorbing her softness, learning the shape of her. rejoicing at the eager leap of her nipples into the cups of his palms, and the way her eyelids grew heavy with desire.

Rhia felt herself sway into him, though her hands were stubbornly braced on his shoulders, and she'd told herself she couldn't possibly think of sex right now, that her mind should be occupied with the search for Vladimir, and her feelings caught up in the tangled skein of Nikolas's emotions. But her body wasn't buying it. Instead, it did impossible things: her heart turned over, the bottom dropped out of her stomach, her knees turned to water.

'How do you do that?' she asked in a thickened voice.

'This?' Catching an erect nipple between each thumb and forefinger, he teased them gently…then harder, his lips slowly curving into a smile as he watched her eyes.

She gasped; sensation, sharp, bright and fierce, arrowed straight down through her body and converged on the pulse-spot between her thighs. 'No-I mean…how do you just… forget it? Put it all aside? How can you think of sex with all that's- Oh..my g-Nik-'

'It's my Y chromosome,' he said softly. 'We men can compartmentalize. For example…right now…' His fingers were doing incredible things to her breasts, things she felt with every exclusively female nerve ending in her body. 'Right now…the only thought in this awful male brain of mine is how much I want to put my mouth here…feel your softness on my tongue…taste you…'

She couldn't think…couldn't see. And she gripped his shoulders now, not to fend him off, but to keep herself from toppling over.