Xerxes heard a soft knock on his door.
Rose. She’d come to him, in spite of her mother’s warning. With an intake of breath, he hurried from the bed and reached for the door.
Then he stopped. He knew what would happen if he invited her into the bedroom. He knew. Making love to Rose was all he could think about. Especially here, where there was so much love everywhere. He felt awash in it. Enveloped in love. And he knew it wasn’t just the house.
It was Rose. She loved him.
She hadn’t spoken the words. But he’d been able to see it on her beautiful face. She’d never learned to lie. Her expressive eyes were an open book for him to read.
She’d seen him at his worst, she knew what he’d done, and yet she loved him. How was it possible?
Clenching his hands into fists, Xerxes took a deep breath. He heard her waiting on the other side of the door, waiting for him to open it and let her in. It was like agony, knowing she was there and still doing nothing. Finally, he heard her give up and her footsteps disappear down the hall.
He exhaled. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the door.
He wanted her. Now more than ever.
But it was more than that. It had become far more than lust. More then admiration. More even than respect.
She was the most loving woman he’d ever met. Honest. Sweet. Kind. Brave. She was the kind of woman who could make any man—even him—become decent and true, just by the effect of her presence. He loved her.#p#分页标题#e#
His body straightened, his eyes opened, wide with shock.
He was in love with her.
Xerxes, a man who had nothing in this world but money and power—nothing of value—had fallen in love with a woman who made everything glorious and new. The most precious, adorable, passionate woman in the world.
He wasn’t remotely worthy of her. And yet he ached to be. He ached to take her in his arms, to tell her he loved her, to make her his wife and treasure her forever. Eagerly, he grabbed the door handle.
Then he froze.
He loved her. But he’d made a promise to trade her. A promise that would save a nineteen-year-old girl’s life.
He’d made a promise. He had no choice.
But Rose did.
Going back to the window, he swung the lead-paned glass open and took a deep breath of the cold night air.
For once in his life, he would give himself up to someone else’s control. To Rose’s. The truth was, he admitted quietly to himself, the power had always been hers.
He stared at the moonlight frosting the black ocean waves. From the moment they’d met, he’d thought he’d been the one in control. He’d been her captor; she’d been his prisoner. But she had always been the more powerful one, though neither of them had realized it. And tomorrow, she would decide his fate.
Reaching for his phone, he dialed. The first number was to his lawyer in San Francisco. The second was a hated number he knew by heart.
“Växborg,” he said, “I’m ready to trade.”
Chapter Fourteen
THE next morning, gray rain streaked the windows on the drive north to San Francisco.
Rose wore a black dress and black raincoat, appropriate for either a death in the family or for any woman being traded away like a used car. She glanced for the tenth time at Xerxes sitting beside her in the backseat of the black SUV. He continued to ignore her.
Her family had offered to give them a ride to the airport, but he’d refused, and a half hour later, a black SUV and a full-sized van had roared in front of the old rambling house. Six bodyguards in dark suits had poured out as a uniformed chauffeur opened the door for Xerxes. Her parents’ jaws had dropped. So much for regular folk!
Today, Rose thought, giving him another nervous side glance. Today, she would tell him she loved him. But not now. No, not yet. Biting her lip, she gripped her hands together, staring down at her lap. The plane ride to Las Vegas would last two hours. There was no need to blurt out her personal feelings in earshot of the chauffeur and bodyguard in the front seat!
Especially since she was already so scared…
She looked out at the passing scenery and gave a sudden start. Leaning forward, she touched the chauffeur’s shoulder timidly. “Excuse me, but you’ve made a mistake. We’re not even close to the city!”
“He hasn’t made a mistake,” Xerxes said.
She sat back in her seat. “He hasn’t?”
“We’re not going to the airport.”
“We’re not?”
He turned to look at her. His eyes were dark. “Do you remember I told you about the medical clinic an hour east of San Francisco? The best brain trauma clinic in the country?”
She stared at him. “We’re going to the clinic? Not Las Vegas?”