A Golden Betrayal

“She needs to understand her duty.”

Tariq was silent for a moment. “You don’t think it’s the Gold Heart curse?”

“There is no curse.”

Tariq paused for a thoughtful moment. “Then why are you falling for Ann Richardson?”

“I want to strangle Ann Richardson.”

“You want to kiss her senseless first.”

Raif didn’t deny it. “That’s got nothing to do with romance. It’s lust.”

There was no way Raif would give credence to the Gold Heart curse. Mallik’s young fiancée had simply changed her mind, and his cousin Aimee was better off with her replacement groom, Jacx.

“You sure?”

“Completely.” Raif was a healthy man, and Ann was a stunningly beautiful woman. There would be something wrong with him if he didn’t want to ravish her. It had nothing to do with any missing statue.

“You step too far over the line, and they’ll deport you,” Tariq warned.

“I won’t step over the line.”

Tariq coughed out a laugh. “We’re in America. You can’t even see the line.”

“I’ll be fine. You should go. I don’t want you getting any more caught up in this.”

“Fine with me.” Tariq stepped back. “I know a great little club on Fifth Avenue. Fine music, great cognac, gorgeous women. Don’t wait up.”

“I never do,” Raif responded, his mind already moving on to what he’d say and do when Ann showed up.

The next sound he heard was Tariq leaving the suite and the whir of the private elevator as it descended.

He waited ten minutes, then moved to an alcove in the living room to wait for Ann, choosing a spot where he wasn’t in the line of sight from the door.

A few minutes later, as planned, a butler showed her in, seating her at the main furniture grouping in the center of the large room. Raif waited until the butler left, and until she began glancing around with curiosity, before he stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself.

At his first movement, Ann came to her feet. “Hello. Mr. Oswald? I’m—”

“Hello, Ann.” He moved toward her.

“Raif? What?” She glanced behind her. “I’m supposed to meet—”

“Leopold Oswald. Yes, I know.”

The confusion grew on her face. “He’s interested in auctioning some of his paintings.”

Raif came to a halt in front of her. “I’m afraid not.”

“Did he change his mind? Don’t tell me you said something to him? Raif, you can’t—”

“Think about it, Ann.” He gave her a moment. “Leopold was never part of the equation.”

She stopped, eyes narrowing. He could see her catching on.

“I was supposed to meet Roark,” Raif helpfully added. “You were supposed to meet Leopold....” He waited for her to fill in the blanks.

“Leopold’s not coming.”

“Give the woman a gold star.”

“You lied to me. Or somebody with a very convincing German accent lied to me.”

“Just like you lied to me,” he told her softly.

“I thought Roark would be in Santa Monica,” she said, perpetuating the lie.

Raif scoffed his disbelief. “You booked the reservation. You paid for three nights at the hotel.”

She gave up the pretense. “Okay, you weren’t supposed to find out that part.”

“No kidding.”

“I had to get you out of my hair. This is a critical time for Waverly’s, a critical time for my career.”

“So, you’re saying there can be times when it’s justifiable to lie?”

“When you’re in the right, yes.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Then you’ll understand what I’m about to do.”

She stilled, then took a half step back, suspicion evident in her tone. “What are you about to do?”

“I’m going to call Roark Black and offer to make a trade.” He pulled out his phone. “Consider yourself kidnapped, Ann.”

She blinked once, then a second time. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Raif just smiled, while she obviously struggled to put the pieces together.

Predictably, she went for the suite door.

“There’s a guard standing right outside. He’s Rayasian. Very loyal to me.”

She stumbled a step, but kept going, opening the door wide, coming face-to-face with six-foot-four, two-hundred-sixty-pound Ali Geensh. Ali scowled down at her.

Ann gave a little jump and quickly closed the door.

She scrambled in her purse for her cell phone.