Her Unforgettable Royal Lover(55)
“You’re kidding!”
“No, I am not. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to gather enough evidence to convince a judge to issue a search warrant.” Patrícia Czernek’s lips parted in a knife blade of a smile. “Based on what you’ve told us, we may be able to get that warrant.”
Thirteen
After all she’d done, all she’d been through, Natalie considered it a complete and total bummer that she was forced to sit on the sidelines during the final phase of the hunt that had consumed her for so many weeks.
The task force gathered early the morning after Natalie had ID’d the bodyguard. As tenuous as that connection was to Lagy and the missing Canaletto, when combined with other evidence NCTA had compiled on the banker, it proved sufficient for a judge to grant a search warrant. Dom left the loft before dawn to join the team that would hit the banker’s villa on the outskirts of Budapest. Natalie was left behind with nothing to do but walk the hound, make another excursion to the butcher shop, scrub the shower stall, dust-mop the floors again and pace.
“This is the pits,” she complained to the hound as the morning dragged by.
The Agár cocked his head but didn’t look particularly sympathetic.
“Okay, okay! It’s true I don’t have any official standing that could have allowed them to include me in the task force. And I guess I don’t really want to see anyone hauled off in handcuffs. That would cut a little too close to the bone,” she admitted with a grimace. “Still,” she grumbled, shooting another glance at the kitchen clock, “you’d think certain people would find a way to let me know what’s happening.”
Dominic couldn’t contact her directly. She knew that. Natalie’s phone was at the bottom of the Danube and the loft didn’t have a landline. He could’ve called his downstairs neighbors, though, and asked Katya or her father to relay a message.
Or not. There was probably some rule or protocol that prohibited disseminating information about an ongoing investigation to civilians.
“That better not include me.”
The bad-tempered comment produced a nervous whine from the hound. Natalie stooped to scratch behind his ear.
“Sorry, Duke’ums. I’m just a little annoyed with your alter ego.”
* * *
Annoyed and increasingly worried as morning crawled toward noon, then into the afternoon, she was seriously contemplating going downstairs to ask Katya if she could use her phone when she heard the heavy tread of footsteps on the outside stairs.
“Finally!”
She rushed to the door, startling the dog into a round of excited barking. One look at Dom’s mile-wide grin sent all her nasty recriminations back down her throat. She could only laugh when he caught her by the waist and swung her in wide circles. The hound, of course, went nuts. Natalie had to call a halt before they all tripped over each other and tumbled down five flights of stairs.
“Dom, stop! You’re making me dizzy.”
He complied with a smooth move that shifted her from mostly vertical to horizontal. Still wearing a cheek-splitting grin, he carried her over the threshold and kicked the door shut as soon as the three of them were inside.
“I assume you got your man,” she said.
“You assume right. Hold on.”
He opened the fridge and dipped her almost vertical again. Squealing, she locked her arms around his neck while he retrieved two frosty bottles from the bottom shelf, then carried her to the sofa. He sank onto the cushions with Natalie in his lap and thumped his boots up on the coffee table.
She managed to keep from pelting him with questions while he offered her one of the dew-streaked bottles of pilsner. When she shook her head, he popped the cap and tilted his head. She watched, fascinated, as he downed half the contents in long, thirsty swallows. He hadn’t had time to shave before he’d left. The beginnings of a beard shadowed his cheeks and chin. And his knuckles, she noted with a small gasp, had acquired a nasty set of scrapes and bruises.
“What happened to your knuckles?”
“Lagy’s bodyguard ran into them.” Something dark and dangerous glinted in his eyes. “Several times.”
“What? Why?”
“We had a private discussion about your swim in the Danube. He disavowed any responsibility for it, of course, but I didn’t like the way his lip curled when he did.”
She gaped at him, her jaw sagging. She’d been alone so long. And so sickened by the way Jason had tried to pin the blame for his illegal activities on her. The idea that Dom had set himself up as her protector and avenger cut deep into her heart. Before she could articulate the chaotic emotions those bruised knuckles roused, however, the hound almost climbed into her lap.