“I just might do that. I haven't had any great degree of luck in influencing Stefan up to the present.”
“I've noticed,” he said dryly as he took her elbow and urged her toward the door. “I'm surprised that Marna didn't just put a spell on him instead of your unfortunate suitors.”
“She couldn't. It would have been a gesture of disloyalty to the royal household and would have broken the tradition that binds her people to the Rubinoff dynasty.” She suddenly frowned as her gaze swept over his big body, still garbed in the sweatshirt and jeans he'd put on that morning. “Where is your jacket?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
“You can't go outside like that.”
He went still. “Is Her Highness ashamed to be seen with me?”
“Don't be stupid,” she said crossly. “It may be hot in Tucson, but it's autumn in the Balkans, and it can be very cool here in October. You can't run around just in jeans and a sweatshirt. You might catch cold.”
“Really.” A flicker of tenderness transformed the wary hardness of his face. “Well, I certainly wouldn't want to do that. A cold in the head might prove very inconvenient at the moment.” He opened a shallow closet, pulled out a beige suede jacket, and slipped it on. “Satisfied?”
She nodded contentedly. “Yes. Now you're being sensible.”
“I'm known to be a very sensible man.” He directed a grin at her before he stepped back to allow her to precede him down the stairs. “Sometimes.”
“Your dual personality?” she asked over her shoulder. “I would think you'd feel very Jekyll and Hyde with-”
“Who's that?” Zack's gaze had focused on someone beyond her shoulder and his voice was so sharp it startled her.
Her head turned to follow his gaze and she unconsciously tensed. “We're evidently about to be honored,” she said quietly as she watched the tall, lean man approaching them with leisurely catlike grace. “It's Sandor Karpathan.”
Zack gave a low whistle. “This little junket may prove more entertaining than I thought. I can see why he made you uneasy. He has-”
“Condar. Strength,” Kira finished flatly. “Marna says he is a disek, one of the exceptional ones who can be anything he wants to be. But diseks can be evil as well as good. She doesn't trust him. She says there is something not as it should be.”
Condar. Yes, the word suited Karpathan, just as the impression inherent in the word power fitted Zack. He was in his middle thirties and his slender body was clothed in a flawlessly tailored three-piece beige suit, which he wore with effortless grace. His hair was dark and barbered by a master hand, his shoes shined to a mirror gloss. His features were just as perfect as his dress and he should have looked a trifle effeminate. But there was nothing effeminate about Sandor Karpathan. He appeared to be tough, intelligent, and dangerous.
His smile was a brilliant flash in his bronzed face as he stopped before her and bowed. “Your Highness, I was informed by immigration that you would be arriving this afternoon and I took this opportunity to come and meet you.”
“How kind of you, Sandor,” Kira said ironically. “I didn't realize you'd missed me. I've only been gone three days.”
“But we always miss you, no matter how short your journey,” he said softly. “There are some people who take the sunshine with them when they leave.”
“How very flowery. I'm sure both you and Tamrovia survived my absence.” Karpathan and Zack were sizing each other up like two gladiators about to enter the arena, and she doubted if either man heard her. “However, I think it far more likely you were interested in the information immigration gave you regarding my companion.”
Karpathan shrugged. “I admit to a touch of curiosity. After all, I'm only human.” His smile was totally charming. “The two of you made every newspaper in Europe this morning. Mr. Damon is such an elusive man; I found it very interesting that you managed to capture him.”
“But she didn't.” Zack took a step closer and his arm slid around her waist in swift possession. “I'm the one who captured her. Introduce us, Kira.”
“Of course,” she said quickly. “Zack Damon, this is His Grace, Sandor Anton Karpathan, the Duke of Limtana and personal adviser to my brother.”
Karpathan held out his hand. “My friends at Oxford called me Sand.” He grinned. “I think it was meant to remind me that the title didn't give me any right to put on airs. I hope you will call me Sand.”
Zack took his hand and found himself looking into eyes of deep sapphire-blue. Very familiar eyes. He glanced at Kira. “You're related?”
“The eyes?” She nodded. “We're distant cousins. That particular color seems to pop up repeatedly in the family.”
Karpathan grimaced. “You notice the emphasis on distant? I can't seem to convince Kira what a wonderful fellow I am. I hope you'll be more ready to accept my friendship.”
“Why do you want to be friends with me?” Zack asked bluntly. “I'm here purely for a social visit because Kira wanted me to see her country.”
“How very sentimental,” Karpathan murmured. “Kira must have a very odd effect on you. I hadn't heard that you were prone to such emotion.”
“She does have an odd effect on me,” Zack said quietly. “But I'm enjoying the hell out of it.”
There was an elusive flicker in Karpathan's eyes. “I believe you're sincere. How refreshing. I'm afraid I've become something of a cynic, and I admit I doubted your devotion to my little cousin.”
“I'm very devoted.” Zack smiled gently. “Why shouldn't I be? You said yourself that Kira walks in sunshine.”
“Not you too,” Kira wailed, wrinkling her nose. “I'm beginning to get a little nauseous with all this sweet talk floating around.”
“You're right. She's very hard to convince.” Zack's gaze met Karpathan's. “That's why I'm here. When we met six months ago in Sedikhan, I told her we were meant for each other, but she thought I was crazy. I've got to convince her that I'm not a man to change his mind.”
“I don't think there's any doubt about it,” Karpathan said lightly. “When we heard you were coming, Stefan and I hoped we could interest you in investing in a few industries that need a little shoring up. We're obviously going to be disappointed.” He shrugged. “Oh, well, perhaps we can still lure you into our toils. Stefan is giving a reception in your honor tomorrow night at the palace. I'll invite a few key men to whom you might be interested in talking. Now, may I offer you a ride to the palace? Stefan is very eager to meet you.”
“I just bet he is,” Kira muttered.
Karpathan gave her an amused glance. “You can hardly blame him. It's not every day that Zack Damon is brought into the fold. You must admit you've proved very difficult in the past, Kira. Stefan is delighted that you've finally managed to get it right.”
Kira opened her lips to speak, but Zack quickly said, “We don't need a lift.” He nodded toward the dark brown Mercedes parked by the high wire fence bordering the runway. “I arranged to have one of my people meet us.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot you have contacts everywhere. Even in our small and unimportant country.” He inclined his head. “Then I'll see you at the palace.” He turned and walked swiftly in the direction of the navy-blue limousine parked to the left of the hangar.
Zack was silent as he escorted Kira across the tarmac to the Mercedes. He greeted the driver briefly and helped her into the backseat of the car. Then he settled back against the cushioned upholstery with an absent frown on his face. The car started and began to move out of the airport parking lot with an almost soundless hum of motion.
Kira turned to face him. “Well?”
He looked at her inquiringly.
“Karpathan,” she said with a touch of impatience. “What do you think?”