Craving Beauty(24)

Her husband brushed his lips across hers. "Thank you for telling me   about Romaz." He paused. "I'm sorry you missed out on the big wedding   girls dream of."



She was surprised at the genuine regret in his tone. "Do not be,   husband. I never dreamed of a big wedding. I always hoped it would be a   quiet affair, though I accepted that my father's business instincts   meant it would most likely be huge. So you see, you gave me the wedding I   wished for." She stroked his thick, dark hair off his forehead,   unwilling to hurt him in any way if she could help it. Her man had known   far too much hurt already.



To her confusion, he moved away from her. Reaching behind him to the   small bedside table, he picked up something and returned. "Hold out your   left hand."



Curious, she did as asked. Using one hand, he slipped her wedding ring   off. She bit her lip and forbore to ask him what he was doing. Her   patience was rewarded as the ring was slipped back on, with another   below it.



Raising it to the moonlight, she saw a trio of jewels winking back at   her. In the dim light, she guessed that the two flanking stones were   small square-cut diamonds. Another stone sat in the centre.



"What is this for?" Her heart felt as if it would burst.



He stroked the delicate skin of her inner wrist. "It's the engagement   ring you never received-a little romance to make up for the hurry with   which I 'acquired' you."



The teasing reminder of her own words made her want to smile, but then   she wondered if he'd had his secretary pick it and she shouldn't be   feeling so cherished. "What's the stone in the middle?"



"A tigereye prism." Linking their fingers, he brought her knuckles to   his lips in a kiss that was as possessive as it was tender. "Don't you   want to know what the other two are?"                       
       
           



       



'They appear to be diamonds." She began to feel hope in her deepest   heart. A tigereye prism wasn't something to be bought off the street.   Found only in her homeland, it was almost as prized as its more famous   sibling, Zulheil Rose. However, because its structure made it so very   difficult to work with, it wasn't exported. Most jewelers found the   investment of their time in creating pieces from the recalcitrant gem   uneconomical.



"They're Zulheil Rose in the palest hue, with the tiniest hint of fire   within. I thought they'd pick up the color of the tigereye, the color of   your eyes."



Her thudding heart felt as if it were smashing against her ribs. "You chose this for me?"



"Yes. I contacted a jeweler in Zulheil and described what I wanted. And I   put a rush on it." He ducked his head and kissed her again. "Do you   like it?"



"Oh, yes, husband. Thank you!" Captivated by his attempt at romance, she   threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug. "You're wonderful. I'm   so happy." Joy bubbled up deep inside her. It wasn't the jewels that   made her so delighted, it was the fact that Marc's act had clearly been   motivated by the desire to make her happy.

Coming from a man like him, such an action meant far more than words.



"Well then, what I'm going to tell you next will make you delirious."



"What?"



"I have to return to Zulheil in the next couple of days, for   approximately two weeks, to tie up some loose ends and engage in some   negotiations with your sheik. Do you think you can play hooky that   long?"



Her eyes widened. "Yes!" Then to Marc's surprise, she frowned. "We will stay with my family?"



He gave her a smile he knew was smug. "I've bought us a house, cher"



"Husband, you are most definitely in need of a reward." Her smile was sultry in the dark.



He wanted far more than just sex from his wife, but he'd take what he   could get. Yet it hurt that she still saw him as such a shallow man, to   be "rewarded" with her body, not allowing him to share in that   indefinable something that made her such a unique individual. "Yeah?"



"I will sing for you." She pushed at his chest. He blinked. "Sing?" He   hadn't known she could sing. "Why haven't I heard you before?"



"Because I didn't like you as much as I do now." Her answer was as   honest as always, and for that reason it touched him in a place even the   scars couldn't reach.



"So how much do you like me now?" She leaned up and kissed his nose in a   playful way that startled him. "A whole lot. And not because of the   ring but because of the reason behind it."



"I did good, huh?" He tried to make light of the heavy weight of emotion clogging his throat.



Pushing him off her, she sat up. Then without warning, she sang to him.   An exotic, alien song in the language of her homeland; a beautiful   language that seemed to sway like the trees and roll like the sea. He   had no idea of the meaning of her words, but he knew that whatever it   was, it was powerful and utterly beautiful. Her voice was crystal clear,   with just a hint of sultriness.



Sexy innocence.



Just like his wife.



He lay there in the moonlight and let the purity of her voice wash over   him. His chest filled with the power of her gift. For the first time in   their married life, he felt as though she'd truly accepted him as her   man.



"Husband, are you asleep?" She sounded offended.



In answer, he hauled her down to his body and captured her lips in a   kiss that was far more than a mere fusion of mouths. Unable to say what   he felt, he tried to show her how important she was to him, how very,   very important. The kiss accelerated, and the next time he came up for   air he found her lying below him, her body holding him deep within her.   The naked emotion in her eyes almost tore him to pieces.



And he knew.



They'd gone beyond sex, beyond lust, beyond desire, into a realm he'd   never before explored. In this place there was joy beyond compare and   stunning pleasure that touched the heart before the body.



He couldn't fight the tumbling of his internal walls, couldn't fight   that strange, wild, unknown emotion that clawed its way into his heart   and refused to leave. Barely able to breathe, he stroked her cheek once.



Then, as moonlight washed over her beautiful face, he moved inside her.   Her hands closed over his shoulders and her exotic eyes went blind with   passion so intense it refused to allow him to separate himself.  Somehow  he was able to focus his mind for the moment it took to watch  her go  over the edge. Only when she was crying out did he allow the  madness of  that inexplicable emotion to overwhelm him.                       
       
           



       



Nine



They were almost ready to leave for Zulheil two days later, when Marc got a call that changed all their plans.



"Becky's been found," he told her.



Heart in her throat, Hira went with him to see the child, who'd been   admitted to a hospital in Lafayette. Becky's new adoptive parents were   there as well, out of their mind with worry for their baby girl.



"Mr. and Mrs. Keller?" Marc's voice was gentle. She could almost see him   rethinking his ideas about how to reunite Brian and Becky. The woman   sitting there with red eyes looked as if she hadn't eaten for days, and   her husband's face was haunted.



"Yes?" Mr. Keller looked up, hope lighting up his eyes for a second. "Are you a doctor? Did she wake up?"

"No. But I might be able to help." Mrs. Keller's eyes were bleak. "How   could you? I know who you are, Mr. Bordeaux, but your wealth can't help   us. She's wasting away and no specialist can tell us why. God, my poor   baby. She's so tiny, so fragile."



Hira moved to sit on a hard plastic chair beside Mrs. Keller and took   her hand. "You must not worry. My husband can indeed help. Tell them,   Marc."



He pulled up a chair to face the Kellers, his jaw taut. "This may come   as a shock, but when Becky was placed in the orphanage from which you   adopted her, she was separated from her twin, a little boy. It was the   first time they'd ever been parted from each other."



Mrs. Keller gasped, the hand in Hira's suddenly bruisingly strong. "No, no! Dear Lord. She never said a word. Not once."