Page 67 of The Rogue's Fortune


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“It’s better close up.” He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her against his wet body.

Heedless of the damage the saltwater was doing to her silk nightgown, Elizabeth lifted on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. “So it is.”

Being married to Roark had far exceeded her expectations. From the second he’d found out she was carrying his child, the walls he’d erected around his heart had tumbled down. No shadows darkened his gray-green eyes. His smiles had become broader, less lopsided. He made love to her with the same single-minded passion, but the reverence in his caresses brought tears to her eyes.

Following the pattern of the past three mornings, Elizabeth joined Roark in the shower. As her hands stroked over his soap-slick body, she reveled in the joy of her fortune. What if her moratorium against bad boys had led her to refuse to act as Roark’s fiancée? She never would have had the chance to discover that there was so much more to him than he let the world see.

With Roark sated b

y their second passionate encounter of the morning, Elizabeth knew this was the best time to approach him about yesterday’s unsettled argument. While he lay sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, she lifted his phone off the nightstand and rolled back toward him. His eyes were closed, but the corners of his lips drifted upward as her breasts made contact with his chest.

“You’ve got to call Ann and tell her what you’re up to.”

His palm coasted over her naked butt and up her spine in a possessive caress. “I really don’t think she’ll want to hear how I’ve spent my last three days.”

Elizabeth ignored the delight tickling over her skin and forced herself to be firm. “Call her back. She’s left three messages.”

Roark opened one eye. “How do you know that?”

“I might have spoken with Kendra about the pre-auction exhibit for the Gold Heart collection.”

He exhaled harshly. “We both agreed no Waverly’s trouble, Gold Heart statue, or event planning emergencies while we’re on our honeymoon.”

“I know what I promised, but I haven’t been unavailable for more than five hours in the last three years.”

“Very well, I’ll listen to the messages, but unless it’s life or death, I’m not calling her back.”

Elizabeth had to be content with that. She kissed him on the cheek and curled up beside him as they both listened to the messages on Roark’s phone. Several offered congratulations. Roark had given Vance a heads-up on their plans as they’d headed to the airport. Vance must have passed the word along to Roark’s friends.

Roark cut off one message from a deep-voiced man named Smith. Elizabeth figured that was the man who was helping Roark with his elusive thief. Ann Richardson’s messages progressed from irritation to acute displeasure. Elizabeth winced as Roark deleted the third one.

Ann was heading to Rayas and was pretty upset with Roark for taking off without giving her the statue. She was worried that the negative publicity coming out of Rayas about the missing Gold Heart statue would cause the board to vote to sell the company to Dalton Rothschild. Or worse, with the way the company’s stock was plummeting, he might be able to acquire enough stock for a hostile takeover.

The final message had been sent only a few minutes earlier.

“I was at the airport waiting for my flight to Rayas this morning when Interpol stopped me from getting on the plane. They detained me for questioning because your mysterious sheikh’s shipment arrived and the Gold Heart statue wasn’t part of the cargo. I explained to them that because of all the controversy he’d decided not to sell the statue, but they wouldn’t let me leave the country until I produce some sort of proof that his statue isn’t the one missing from Rayas. Somehow a reporter caught wind that I was being questioned by Interpol and wrote an article speculating about our recent troubles. Waverly’s stock has dropped even further. I need you back in New York and I need that statue. Call me.”

Roark’s features were set in grim lines as he deleted the message.

“What are you going to do?” Elizabeth asked.

“The same thing I was going to do before her call. I have to get the documents back from Masler before he can give them to Rothschild. It’s the only way Rashid will let anyone see his statue and the only way to prove once and for all that it’s not the one missing from Rayas’s palace.”

He tossed the phone onto a nearby chair and rolled Elizabeth onto her back. He threaded his fingers through her damp hair and dusted kisses over her nose, cheeks and eyes.

“But first,” he murmured. “I’m going to make love to my wife.”

With a heart bursting with love and a broad smile, Elizabeth teased, “I’ll bet you never thought you’d hear yourself say those words.”

“I think I knew the moment I set eyes on you.”

“Really?” Seeing he meant every word, she snuggled closer. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment you took my hand and asked me if I like to play with new ideas.”

He turned her palm up and traced her love line. “The way this curves means you’re romantic and passionate.”

She chuckled. “Don’t you mean foolish when it comes to love?”

“Not at all. See how your head line and your life line start at the same point but separate right away? That means a decisive and determined personality. Someone who can handle adventurous and erratic situations.”

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