The Lion's Lady(23)

Christina refused to sit down. She stood beside Lyon, trying to ignore him altogether. He put his booted feet back up on the edge of Rhone 's desk and reached for his glass. She gave him a disgruntled look. If the man was any more relaxed, he'd fall asleep.

It soon became awkward. Rhone was looking at her expectantly. Christina clutched the blue receptacle in her left hand and kept trying to pull her other hand out of Lyon 's hold. He'd forgotten to let go of her.

"Was there something in particular you wished to speak to me about?" Rhone prodded gently. He tried to put Christina at ease. The poor woman looked terribly worried.

"I'd hoped to find you alone," Christina announced. She gave Lyon a meaningful look. "Were you about to take your leave, Lyon?"

"No."

His abrupt answer was given in such a cheerful voice, Christina smiled. "I would like to speak to Rhone in private, if you don't mind."

"Ah, sweet, but I do mind," Lyon drawled out. He increased his grip on her hand, then suddenly jerked her off balance.

She landed right where he wanted her. Christina immediately started to struggle out of his lap. Lyon circled her waist with one arm, anchoring her to him.

Rhone was amazed. He'd never seen Lyon act in such a spontaneous manner. To show such open possessiveness was certainly out of character. "Princess Christina? You may speak freely in front of Lyon," Rhone advised.

"I may?" Christina asked. "Then he knows?"

When Christina hesitated, Rhone announced, " Lyon is privy to all my secrets, my dear. Now what is it you wanted to say to me?"

"Well, I was wondering, sir, how you're feeling."

Rhone blinked several times. "Why, I'm feeling very well," he replied awkwardly. "That is all you wanted to ask me?"

The two of them were dancing around the real issue, to Lyon 's way of thinking. " Rhone, Christina wants to know how your injury is doing. Isn't that right, Christina?"

"Oh, then you do know?" Christina asked, turning to look at Lyon.

"You know?" Rhone 's voice cracked.

"She knows," Lyon confirmed, chuckling over the flabbergasted look on Rhone 's face.

"Well, hell, who doesn't know?"

"You sound pathetic," Lyon told his friend.

"It was the color of your eyes, Rhone," Christina explained, giving him her attention again. "They're an unusual shade of green, and very easy to remember." She paused to give him a sympathetic look. "And you did look right at me. I really didn't mean to recognize you. It just happened," she ended with a delicate shrug.

"Are we putting all our cards on the table?" Rhone asked, leaning forward to give Christina an intent look.

"I don't understand," Christina said. "I don't have any cards with me."

"Christina takes everything you say in its literal sense, Rhone. It's a trait guaranteed to make you daft. Believe me, I know."

"That is most uncharitable of you, Lyon," Christina announced, glaring at him. "I don't know what you mean when you say I'm literal. Is it yet another insult I should take exception to, perchance?"

" Rhone is asking you if he may speak freely," Lyon told Christina. "Hell, I feel like an interpreter."

"Of course you may speak freely to me," Christina announced. "No one's holding a knife to your neck, Rhone. I've some medicine with me. I'd like to tend your injury, Rhone. You probably haven't had proper care."

"I couldn't very well call upon my physician, now could I?" Rhone said.

"Oh, no, you'd be found out," Christina said. She scooted off Lyon 's lap and went to Rhone 's side. Rhone didn't protest when she began to unwrap his badly fashioned bandage.

Both men watched as Christina opened a small jar of horrid-smelling salve. "My God, what's in there? Dead leaves?"

"Yes," Christina answered. "Among other things."

"I was jesting," Rhone said.

"I wasn't."

"The smell will keep me hidden," Rhone muttered. "What else is in there?" he asked, taking another sniff of the foul medicine.

"You don't want to know," Christina answered.

"It's best not to ask Christina questions, Rhone. The answers will only confuse you."

Rhone took Lyon 's advice. He watched Christina pat a large amount of the brown-colored salve on the cut, then rewrap the arm. "You have a nice scent, Rhone. Of course, the salve will soon remove it."

"I have a nice scent?" Rhone looked as though he'd just been handed England 's crown. He thought he should return her compliment. "You smell like flowers," he told her, then promptly laughed over saying such a thing. It was the truth, but certainly ungentlemanly of him to comment upon. "You're the one with the unusual eyes, Christina. They're the most wonderful color of blue."

"That's quite enough," Lyon interjected. "Christina, hurry up and finish your task."

"Why?" Christina asked.

"He doesn't want you standing so close to me," Rhone explained.

"Give it up, Rhone." Lyon 's voice had turned hard. "You aren't going to pursue Christina, so you can save your charms for someone else."

"Lady Diana would like your charms very much, Rhone," Christina interjected. She smiled at the reaction her comment caused in both men. Rhone looked perplexed. Lyon looked appalled. " Lyon, you don't own me. It is therefore unreasonable of you to dictate to other gentlemen. If I wanted Rhone 's attention, I would let him know it."

"Why do you suggest Lyon 's sister would like my attention?" Rhone asked. He was highly curious about her strange remark.

Christina replaced the jar in her receptacle before answering. "You English are so narrow-minded in your thinking sometimes. It's obvious Lady Diana is taken with you, Rhone. You only have to look at her to see the adoration in her eyes. And if you count the way you look after her, why, you'd realize you were meant for each other."

"Oh, God." It was Lyon who groaned out the words.

Both Christina and Rhone ignored him. "How can you be so certain?" Rhone asked. "You only met her once, and you couldn't have spent more than fifteen minutes with her. No, I think you're imagining this infatuation. Diana's just a child, Christina."

"Believe what you will," Christina answered. "What will happen will happen."

"I beg your pardon?"

Rhone looked confused again. Lyon shook his head. It was good to know he wasn't the only one dimwitted around Christina. "Destiny, Rhone," Lyon interjected.

"I really must leave now. Aunt Patricia believes I'm resting in my room," she confessed. "You will have to share my confidence, Rhone. Or should I call you Jack now?"

"No."

"I was only jesting, sir. Do not be so distressed," Christina said.

Rhone sighed. He reached out to take hold of Christina's hand, thinking to keep her by his side while he thanked her properly for tending his injury.

Christina moved so quickly Rhone was left reaching for air. Before he could blink, she was standing next to Lyon 's chair again.

Lyon was just as surprised. He was arrogantly pleased, too, for even though Christina probably wasn't aware of what she'd done, she had instinctively moved back to him. There was some kind of little victory in that choice, wasn't there?

"Christina, if you recognized me, why didn't you tell Baker and the others?" Rhone asked.

She took exception to his question. "They'll have to find out on their own," she said. "I would never break a confidence, Rhone."

"But I didn't ask you to keep this confidence," Rhone stammered.

"Don't try to understand her, Rhone. It will be your undoing," Lyon advised with a grin.

"Then please answer me this," Rhone asked. "Did you see who threw the knife at me?"

"No, Rhone. In truth, I was too frightened to look behind me. If Lyon hadn't been there to protect me, I think I would have swooned."

Lyon patted her hand. "The pistol wasn't loaded," Rhone protested. "Did you think I'd actually hurt someone?"

Lyon prayed for patience. "I cannot believe you set out to rob Baker with an empty pistol."

"Why would you use an empty weapon?" Christina asked.

"I wanted to scare them, not kill them," Rhone muttered. "Will you two quit looking at me like that? The plan did work, I might remind you."

"You just did remind us," Christina announced.

" Lyon, will you be able to find out who injured me?" Rhone asked.

"Eventually."

Christina frowned. Lyon sounded too certain. "Why does it matter?"

" Lyon likes a good puzzle," Rhone announced. "As I recall, Baker's balcony is a good fifty feet from the terrace below. Whoever it was had to be-"

"Twenty feet, Rhone," Lyon interjected. "And the balcony couldn't be scaled. The railing was too weak."

"Then whoever it was must have been hiding behind you… somewhere," Rhone said with a shrug. "No, that doesn't make sense. Well, thank God he had a lousy aim."

"Why do you say that?" Christina asked.

"Because he didn't kill me."

"Oh, I think his aim was quite on target," she announced. "If he'd wanted to kill you, I think he might have. Perhaps he meant to make you drop your weapon."