CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There were quite a few people in Bloomsbury Square as Rory towed Bud behind her like a reluctant child. There were so many people going about their business, in fact, that Rory didn’t see the bench she’d left Kieran on until she was nearly on it. When she immediately realized it was vacant, she let go of Bud in a panic.
“Oh… no!” she began searching desperately for the knight. “He was here, Bud. Right here! I left him here!”
He wasn’t really surprised that the bench was empty. In fact, it only served to reinforce his belief in the stupidity of her story. When she leapt onto the bench to gain a better view of the surrounding square, he moved up beside her and gently, but firmly, grasped her arm.
“Was he really here, Rory?” he reached up and tapped her head. “Or here? Come on and get down. We’re going back to the hotel.”
“No!” she struggled furiously as he pulled her from the bench. “I’m not going anywhere until I find him. Maybe… maybe he went back to the hotel. Maybe something upset him and he’s gone back.”
He had her with two hands, realizing they were attracting some attention. “Calm down, Rory, you’re causing a scene. Let’s just go back to the hotel and…”
She succeeded in pulling one hand free, trying to free the other. “I said I’m not going anywhere until I find him. Let me go, Bud!”
He was really struggling to keep a grip on her without looking as if he was trying to assault her. “Honey, just relax. Let me take you back to our hotel and we’ll figure out how to deal with the Hage family. You don’t have to…”
She suddenly broke free, racing toward the street. Bud followed and, having been a running back in college, was on her heels in no time. But she dashed across the asphalt before he could get to her and Bud almost got plastered by a car in his haste to pursue. Waiting for the car to pass, he continued after her at break-neck speed.
*
Lingering by the edges of the square, a man dressed casually in slacks and a shirt hastened to a black Mercedes parked on the opposite side of the street. Leaping into the passenger side, he nodded to the man in the driver’s seat.
“Follow Dietrich,” he commanded. “Maybe she’s heading for wherever she may be hiding out.”
“Do you think she has the body with her?”
Corbin shrugged as the driver threw the car into gear and swung a wide U-turn. “Probably. But even if she doesn’t, we’ll find out where she’s hidden it. Or Dietrich will tell us if he knows. Certainly, somebody will tell us when I use the beautiful young archaeologist as an object of discovery.”
The man in the back seat with more flab than muscle chuckled sinisterly as his cohort directed the car down Bedford Place in pursuit of the Americans. “Discovery of what?”
Corbin didn’t say anything for a moment, his piercing blue eyes searching for the fleeing figures. “Niles, the Hage family is paying me a good deal of money to protect their interests in Sir Kieran. No only did I threatened an international lawsuit against Osgrove’s university in order to gain the family their rightful ancestor, but now that Dr. Rory has been foolish enough to steal what no longer belongs to her, I suspect there is more behind her motive to abduct Sir Kieran Hage than Dietrich is telling us.”
“You think they’re hiding something?” the driver asked as just as the three men caught sight of Bud disappearing into a small two-story hotel.
Parking the car, Corbin studied the structure a moment before turning to his associates.
“They are,” he said frankly, turning to fix his colleagues with a heady gaze. “Or Sir Kieran is.”
The fat man in the back seat looked particularly dubious. “What in the hell could an old corpse be hiding? We watched when he was stripped down yesterday and examined by those other doctors. There’s nothing on his body at all.”
Corbin shrugged faintly. “Nothing we saw, at any rate. But remember, the Americans have had the body for several days. Maybe they’ve had time to discover something we haven’t yet come across. Or, better still, maybe there is something actually inside the body they want to keep from us.”
The driver looked interested as his counterpart shook his head. “Jesus, Steven, do you think they’ve smuggled something into the country inside of the knight’s body? Why in the bloody hell would they do that?”
Again, Corbin shrugged faintly and opened his door. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out. Clearly, there is more to this situation than meets the eye.”
*
It was a short chase down the quiet street. Rory immediately disappeared into a small building about half-way down the block and Bud followed her into what was apparently a small hotel. Ignoring the wide-eyed woman at the desk and several people seated in a large living area to his left, he made way for the stairs directly before him and pounded to the second floor.
He caught sight of Rory just as she disappeared into a door about mid-way down the corridor. Before she could lock it, he was behind her, shoving it open with such force that she shrieked with surprise. The door swung open, banging against the wall, and the sight of Rory’s astonished face was the last thing Bud saw before stars exploded in his head.
And then it was dark. Sort of. He thought he heard Rory’s voice, her warm hands on his face. Bud blinked, thinking he must have struck his head somehow but having no idea what, exactly, he had hit. Gradually, the stars began to fade and he realized he was lying flat on his back. Shaking his head, he was about to ask what had happened when a rumbling male voice infiltrated his dazed mind.
“It was a trap, my lady,” the voice said grimly. “God’s Blood, I should have suspected. Are you well? Has he harmed you?”
Trying to support Bud’s head, Rory frowned at Kieran. “What trap? You’re not making sense, Kieran. And you didn’t have to hit him.”
Kieran’s stubbled face was flushed with emotion, his massive hands working. “He was a threat to you. I had no choice.”
“Bud is not a threat.”
“But he is working with them. He must be.”
“Working for who, for God’s sake?”
Kieran didn’t say anything, watching Bud try to blink some clarity into his vision. Swallowing hard, he went to the door and peered down the hall as if expecting someone. Rory watched him closely, noticing his whole body was taut with anticipation. As if he were preparing for a fight.
Or his death.
“Kieran,” she demanded softly, still holding Bud. “What’s wrong?”
He maintained his post by the door, his gem-clear eyes riveted to the staircase at the far end of the corridor. After several tense moment, he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Throwing the bolt, he went directly to the window and peered outside. Rory continued to observe him, curious and apprehensive at the same time.
“Kieran, please,” she said again. “What are you looking for? Why did you leave the square when I told you to wait for me?”
He finally looked to her, his features uncharacteristically hard. Then, he left the window only to hover over both her and Bud as if he were some sort of horrific avenging angel. Rory gazed up at him, frightened for reasons she didn’t understand. But the mere expression on his face scared her to death.
“Because I saw him. I instinctively returned for my sword when I remembered I no longer had it within my possession. But you were in no danger for the moment and I was confident I could return in time to defend us both.”
She was understandably puzzled. “Defend us from whom?”
His jaw ticked. “Simon.”
Rory’s brow furrowed. Bud was growing more lucid and struggling to sit up, so she gently pushed him into a sitting position before replying.
“Kieran, you know that’s impossible. Simon has been dead for eight hundred years.”
“So was I.”
“But you were different, you know that,” as Bud rubbed his jaw, eyes closed against the spinning room, Rory stood up. “Are you saying that somehow Simon has managed to follow though time? The chances of your survival were astronomical, but the chances of two of you surviving through potions or magic or miracles is completely ludicrous.”
His expression remained hard as he gazed at her. “I know what I saw, lady. I saw Simon lingering by the edges of the square, shielding himself behind a post of some kind. He didn’t see me, however; he was looking at you. You and at your… friend.”
Bud opened his eyes, still working his jaw. His ears were ringing but his head had cleared somewhat and he suddenly found himself gazing at massive leather boots. Gaze trailing up the shoes, he digested the sight of massive thighs and an equally massive chest. When his ice-blue gaze came to rest on gems of clear brown, Rory watched him closely for his reaction.
“Uh… Bud, this is Sir Kieran Hage,” she said softly, moving to stand in front of Kieran; obviously, the knight didn’t trust Bud and she was fearful of what he still might do to him. “Sir Kieran, this is Dr. Bud Dietrich.”
Bud just stared at him. Rory bent over him, her expression a mixture of anxiety and compassion.
“See, Bud? I wasn’t crazy. It’s really him.”
Bud’s eyes never left Kieran as he rose to his knees. Rory watched apprehensively as he continued to rise to unsteady feet, his face completely pale and his eyes as wide as saucers. She moved away from Kieran and gripped Bud’s arm supportively.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Speak to me, Bud. Say something.”
He blinked. Then, taking a deep breath, his jaw popped open. “Christ,” he hissed. “Rory, this is… this is nuts! Who is this guy?”
Kieran cocked an eyebrow, a decidedly unfriendly gesture. Rory made sure she remained between the two men.
“I told you,” she said patiently. “This is Sir Kieran Hage, the knight we excavated at Nahariya. He’s alive, Bud, just like I said.”
Bud shook his head slowly, with disbelief. “No… no way. It just isn’t possible.”
Rory sighed faintly. “Yes, it is. Like I explained to you. An alchemist put him into a trance and I woke him up last night with… well, with a kiss.”
Bud seemed to snap out of his daze somewhat, eyeing Rory as if she had gone completely mad. “This isn’t some damn fairy tale, Rory. I don’t know who this guy is, but he’s got you convinced he’s… Christ, this is completely insane. What in the hell has happened to your common sense?”
Behind her, Rory heard Kieran shift uneasily and she broke away from Bud, putting both hands on Kieran to prevent him from advancing on the outraged doctor. Obviously, Bud was unwilling to believe the evidence and she furiously searched for an explanation, or demonstration, that would make some sense to him. After a lengthy, uncomfortable pause, she suddenly grasped Kieran’s hands.
“Look,” she said, holding them up for Bud’s inspection. “Remember the knight at the dig, how large his hands were? Take a look at these babies. Large enough to handle that broadsword we weighed in at thirty-three pounds.”
Bud opened his mouth to refute her but she was on the move, unbuttoning Kieran’s brand-new shirt. Kieran was torn between his hostility toward Bud and the erotic gesture of Rory’s soft hands undressing him. He settled for the neutral position of watching her curiously.
“Look here,” Rory opened the shirt, exposing Kieran’s broad, broad chest. Her gentle fingers began to dance across the flesh as she spoke. “Look at the scars, Bud, from practicing for years with broadswords and maces and flails. And look how broad he is, rippled with raw muscle; no steroids in this body. And here; look at this huge scar. This is where all the blood came from that had stained his tunic and hose. Remember?”
Bud’s expression clouded as he studied the enormous man, unwilling to admit that he was coming to look vaguely familiar and that Rory’s reasoning seemed to make a good deal of sense. Before he could respond, however, she put her hands on Kieran’s face, tracing the rugged lines of his beauty.
“And look at his face, Bud,” she said, turning to look into Kieran’s magnificent eyes. “You know these features. You saw them, along with me and Dave, for the very first time nearly a week ago. You even said he was good-looking enough to run for Mr. America. Don’t you remember? Dammit, Bud, look at him.”
Face pallid with shock, Bud could only stare in amazement. Everything she said made perfect sense and the longer he gazed at the massive man, the more horrified he became by the tendrils of recognition.
“It’s impossible, Rory,” he finally said, his voice husky with confusion. “What you’re suggesting is purely impossible.”
“That may be, my lord,” Kieran entered the conversation for the first time, his hostility banked for the moment. “But it is nonetheless true. I was put to sleep by an alchemist eight hundred years ago only to be awakened by the strength of pure human emotion. Apparently, the lady’s attachment to me served as the catalyst for my resurrection.”
Bud’s mouth was hanging open again. “Christ… that accent,” he muttered. “Incredible. I’ve never heard a British accent so… heavy.”
Rory sighed thankfully, seeing that Bud was once again returning to the calm, reasonable archaeologist she knew. But he was brutally analytical and she was further aware that convincing him of Kieran’s reality would still take a good deal of persuasion.
“That’s because it’s real, Bud,” she smiled, one hand still on Kieran’s face. “He’s not an actor or anything like that. He’s a knight of King Richard’s realm.”
Bud continued to stare, although he had closed his gaping mouth. After a moment, he scratched his head in a puzzled gesture, indicating that his shock was wearing thin and his brain was starting to work again.
Rory watched him closely as he turned away to pondering the situation. Removing her hand from Kieran’s face, she batted at him when he grasped it and tried to kiss her fingers. Although the demonstration sent her heart fluttering wildly, she nonetheless shook her head in a scolding gesture and went in pursuit of Bud.
He was moving toward the window, his face ashen and his eyes somewhat glazed. “Bud?” she prodded gently. “Please tell me you’re at least trying to understand this.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Understand?” then, he snorted, turning to look at Kieran as the man fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. “Christ, I have to say this for him; he certainly looks like the knight in the grave. But what makes you think that this guy hasn’t been sent by the Hage family in an attempt to somehow mislead you?”
“Why would they?” she responded. “For what reason? I don’t have anything they could possibly want or use; they took everything I had. And then some.”
He shook his head, eyeing the massive man who seemed to be having a good deal of trouble with the buttons. Rory noticed Bud’s curiosity and quickly moved to shore up the modern fastens. Kieran smiled his thanks, abruptly sending Bud’s confusion sparking into a raging fire of jealousy. And the way Rory responded to him, coyly, only fanned the flames.
The control so thinly held was leaving him once again. “So just like that, you believe him,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Tell me, Rory; did you actually see this miraculous resurrection? Did you see his heart began to beat again or his lungs start to breathe? Or did you just wake up from your drunken stupor to discover him alive and well?”
Rory looked at him, aware of his condescending tone. “It was just like I told you,” she said quietly. “I kissed him good-bye and fell asleep on him because I was exhausted. When I awoke a few hours later, he was stirring. I think that even in a drunken sleep, I would have noticed if someone had moved the body I was lying on top of. It wasn’t like I was in a coma.”
Bud’s gaze shifted from Rory to Kieran. The man met his gaze evenly, not as challenging or angry as it had been earlier. Hell, it looked like the same man. Even down to the shape of the lips; and Bud should know, considering he stuck his fingers in the man’s mouth. But the concept of raising a man from the dead… well, it just wasn’t possible.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, shaking his head and retracing his steps away from the window. “I just can’t… Rory, I don’t know how this guy has managed to hypnotize you, but dead bodies just don’t come back to life. I need you to come back with me to the hotel; you’ve got a lot of explaining to do to Steven Corbin.”
Her heart sank. “Oh, Bud,” she whispered, feeling defeated and sickened. “Please believe me. I’m not trying to manipulate you, or lead you on a wild goose chase or anything of the sort. This really is Kieran Hage.”
Bud reached out, putting a hand to her cheek and forcing her to look at him. “I know you wish he was,” he looked to Kieran, his eyes roving the man suspiciously. “Look, pal, I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done to her, but if you’ve got something to do with the disappearance of Sir Kieran’s body, then you’re in a lot of trouble, too. Come on, Rory. We’re going.”
He grabbed her by the hand, intending to pull her to the door. But he hadn’t taken a step when Kieran was on him, separating him from Rory with unearthly strength. Rory shrieked softly, pleading for Bud’s safety as Kieran abruptly placed Bud in the nearest chair. It was done roughly, without particularly thought for comfort, but not a hair on Bud’s head had been damaged in the process. Yet the message was obvious.
“My lord,” Kieran’s bass voice was even, a return to his usual calm composure. “My name is Sir Kieran Hage, Viscount of Dykemoor and Sewall, and I was born January 4, 1160 in my family’s castle of Southwell. I have three younger brothers and a father who still resides at Southwell. My mother died when I was eight years of age, after the birth of my youngest brother and I have a host of other family members scattered throughout eastern England. Since you do not believe the lady, mayhap you will believe me. I am who I say I am, my lord, I assure you.”
Bud stared at him, annoyed by the man’s brutal action but strangely compelled by his eloquent words. Rory hovered beside the massive man, eyes wide with apprehension.
“Ask him something, Bud,” she encouraged softly. “If you don’t believe who he is, then ask him something only he would know.”
Bud’s eyes darted between the man and Rory. “Like what?” he demanded.
Rory glanced at Kieran’s profile; he was still staring intently at Bud. Like a cat watching its prey. After a moment, she put her hand on his arm gently to ease him away from the angry man in the chair. The last thing she needed was Bud provoking Kieran into violence with his stubborn stance.
“Ask him about King Richard,” she finally said. She didn’t know what else to suggest.
Bud took a deep breath, muttered a curse, then fixed his ice-blue gaze on Kieran. “All right,” he muttered. “If it’ll help convince you that he’s an imposter, then I’ll do anything. You want a question, pal? Then here’s a question. Rumor had it that King Richard preferred both men and women sexually and that he had a bastard son by a lesser noblewoman. What about that?”
Rory rolled her eyes in a disbelieving gesture; of all the questions to ask! Kieran, however, remained completely calm. In fact, his massive hand had found Rory’s as it rested on his elbow and he began to caress her fingers gently as he spoke.
“I was aware of the rumors of his preference and a few times saw evidence of the truth,” his voice was quiet. “But it was something we did not speak of. As for his bastard son, I met the boy once when I was newly knighted. Although Richard himself did not tell me the lad was his son, the resemblance was striking.”
Bud cocked an eyebrow; a generic answer and not particularly convincing. He looked to Rory, suggesting his patience with this charade was dangerously thin, and she hastened to rectify the situation.
“The crown, Kieran,” she turned to the knight, her voice as soft as Bud as ever heard it. “Tell him about the crown. Your reason for having it.”
Kieran cast her a dubious look; speaking to the lady about his mission was one matter, but speaking to a perfect stranger was entirely another.
“He knows all about it,” Rory encouraged when she read his doubt. “In fact, he was helping me search for it when we found you. Please, Kieran, tell him about El-Hajidd. Tell him everything.”
Kieran sighed; certainly, he had nothing to lose. The man with the ice-blue eyes was obvious inferior in both strength and size and there was naught he could do against him. Even if he was in league with Simon’s phantom, still, it wasn’t as if he could cause more betrayal or pain than Simon already had. And it was extremely important to Rory that her friend be convinced of Kieran’s authenticity for reasons Kieran was having difficulty comprehending.
So he was a friend, a fellow archaeologist who had been on hand when his grave was uncovered; but why he needed to know everything that Kieran and Rory had discussed privately was still a mystery. Nonetheless, Kieran was willing to elaborate for the lady’s sake; in a country he no longer recognized, thrust into a future he didn’t understand, he had little choice but to trust the kindness of strangers.
After a lengthy pause, he moved away from Bud and Rory and eased himself onto the edge of the mattress. “When our Lord Jesus Christ died on the cross at Mount Calvary, his body was taken and prepared for burial by Joseph of Aramethea among others. ’Tis said that after the resurrection, Joseph collected not only the shroud of Christ’s burial, but the diadem of thorns that had been cast to the floor of the vault when our Lord’s body had been wrapped,” his voice was unusually soft as he formulated his thoughts. “As you know, Jerusalem was under Roman control and no place for Christians. Especially those close to Christ. Joseph traveled north in his ministry, carrying with him the shroud and the crown. Until he came to Tyre.”
Not surprisingly, Kieran’s hypnotic tone had Bud and Rory listening intently. As Rory sank to her knees beside Bud, enraptured by Kieran’s beautiful voice, the massive knight calmly continued.
“While in Tyre, he stayed with an innkeeper and his family. Romans abound, however, and the innkeeper saved Joseph’s life against a band of particularly cruel soldiers. In thanks, Joseph gave the pious man one of the only possession of value he had. The crown of thorns.”
“The innkeeper was a Christian?” Rory asked, her tone faint with wonder.
Kieran smiled at her. “Indeed, my lady. He accepted the crown as if it were more valuable than gold, passing it down through generations of his family. A family that eventually converted to Muslim, though the crown was still kept sacred. When the Crusades came, the patriarch of the family buried the crown to keep it from being destroyed by Allah’s vengeful fanatics. Even as the family fought against the Christian knights from the west for years to come, the crown was still kept hidden. Until the coming of Guy de Lusignan and Frederick of Barbarossa.”
“What happened then?” Rory was thoroughly enraptured.
Kieran was fixed on her. “The family had risen to prestige within the ranks of Saladin’s warriors, including the eldest son and heir. When the collapse of Acre became apparent over two years of continuous fighting, he attempted to negotiate a truce without Saladin’s knowledge or consent. Saladin, of course, was reluctant to a surrender of any kind, but El Hajidd was convinced a peaceable treaty was necessary in order to preserve what was left of Saladin’s forces. As a show of good faith, he was determined to extend a peace offering. Something the Christians would value above all else.”
“The crown.”
This time, it was Bud who spoke. Kieran looked to him impassively. “Aye, the crown. I was chosen the leader of a secret delegation appointed to retrieve the crown. As I explained to the lady, the other men of my delegation turned against me because they believed that God’s only true victory would be in the complete destruction of Saladin. Forced to flee with the crown in my possession, I managed to hide it before assassins found me and did this,” he touched his left side gingerly, rubbing the scar. “An alchemist gave me a potion to put me into a deep sleep while other potions he administered healed my wound. And in sleep I remained until the lady awoke me. But now that I have been resurrected, ’tis my destiny to return to the place where I buried the crown. I must complete what I started eight hundred years ago.”
When Kieran finished speaking, the silence in the room was deafening. Rory stared at him, lingering on his story of adventure and history as Bud remained completely unmoving. He was gazing at the massive man, observing intelligent eyes of clear brown and knowing the truth, as the man believed it, was evident. And he continued to stare at the alleged knight until Rory broke into his train of thought.
“Well?” she asked softly. “What do you think?”
Bud released a slow sigh, tearing his eyes away from the enormous man and gazing to his enthralled colleague. “I think your Sir Kieran is a gifted storyteller,” he said quietly. “And I think I need to go back to the hotel and ponder all of this for awhile.”
“But…” Rory’s eyes were wide with surprise. How on earth could he not believe? “What about the fact that you were right about the Muslim forces extending the crown as a peace offering? I never said anything to Kieran about your theory, so how would he know what you speculated? Doesn’t that mean anything?”
Bud’s ice-blue eyes were steady. “He’s an intelligent man, Rory. I’m sure he took the things you told him and pieced together a logical, if not somewhat involved, story.”
Rory rose to her feet, her expression sorrowful. “Oh, Bud… how can you still not believe?”
Bud stood up from the chair, his attention on Rory as Kieran rose from the bed. “Look,” he said softly. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe this guy has risen from the dead. Whoever he is, he’s the most gifted actor I’ve ever seen and I’ll give him credit. But you… Rory, you were infatuated with the knight from the very moment you saw him. And you want him to come alive so badly so he can help you find your crown that you’ve somehow fallen prey to this… this opportunist. Honey, why can’t you see the situation for what it is?”
“Why can’t you?” she shot back, feeling abandoned and hurt by the man she had come to depend on so terribly. But her reasons for her dependence were different from his, one person in love with another who did not return the feelings. Bud somehow symbolized a strength and support she had never known, while he wanted to be the husband she would grow old with. It was a painful paradox for the both of them.
“Because it’s not what you want it to be, no matter how hard you wish it was,” he said earnestly, ignoring Kieran’s massive presence lingering behind him. “This isn’t a fantasy, Rory, or a movie. This is real life.”
Focus on what’s real in this life. Rory heard the strains of her mother’s words echoed in Bud’s voice and her soft demeanor, her pleading manner, vanished. So he considered her outlandish and bizarre, too. Just like her mother did. For Rory to be trying to convince Bud that Sir Kieran was real was like calling Wolf; she had tried to convince him that the crown was real and she had failed to prove her point. And now he wasn’t willing to believe the verity of her words a second time around. He wasn’t about to be made a fool of twice.
“Fine,” she turned away from him. “Go back to the hotel, Bud. I’m not going to bang my head against the wall any longer. If you don’t believe me, then that’s your problem.”
“No, it’s our problem,” he said with growing irritation. “You stole an ancient corpse and I should have stopped you. And until you tell me where you’ve hidden it…”
“I didn’t hide it!” she practically shouted, jabbing a finger at Kieran. “It’s right there, big as life! Good Lord, Bud, if I’ve ever needed you to believe me, it’s now. I’m not making this up!”
Bud eyed the knight, shaking his head after a moment. “No more, Rory. Come on; you’re coming with me.”
She balked stubbornly. “I’m a big girl, Bud. I can do what I want, when I want, or where I want. And I don’t want to go back to the hotel with you.”
Bud’s cheeks mottled a faint pink. “So you’re going to stay here with… him?”
She nodded, turning away. “Since I can’t count on you to help us, I guess I’ll have to figure this out by myself.”
Bud’s jaw ticked. “You’ve committed a crime, Rory. If I let you stay here, then I’m an accessory. I can’t leave you…”
There was a gentle knock on the door then. Before Kieran could stop him, Bud opened the panel in a fit of irritation. Steven Corbin’s piercing blue eyes filled the room.
Before another breath was drawn, Kieran was moving for the doorway like a madman. Rory gasped with fright as Corbin’s two goons pushed the lawyer out of the way, propelling themselves into the room and taking out Bud with a swift blow to the jaw.
Kieran grabbed the man who had struck Bud, sending him to the floor in a burst of blood and fists. Corbin himself had moved into the room, heading for Rory, who immediately scampered away from his advance in search of a weapon. In her panic, the only thing she was able to locate was the small lamp beside the bed and she grabbed it, swinging it at Corbin with all her strength.
He grunted as she caught him in the shoulder, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. The bed was behind her, a considerable obstacle that she was unable to overcome before Corbin capture her like a cornered mouse.
“Well, well, Dr. Osgrove,” he grunted with exertion as she fought furiously. “We meet again under far less pleasant circumstances.”
“Let me go!” she brought up her knee, catching him in the thigh and trying to shoving her open palm into his nose.
But Corbin would not be dissuaded. He tightened his grip, holding her obscenely close as she wrestled with surprising strength. “Not until you tell me where Sir Kieran is. And you will furthermore tell me why he seems to interest you so.”
She had no idea what he meant by the last statement and chose to ignore both questions entirely. She was still fighting him, but he was far stronger than she was and her exhaustion was rapidly growing. Just as she thought she might actually have to give up her struggle for the moment, a booming voice shook the very walls of the room.
“Simon!” Kieran roared. “Release her if you value your life!”
Chestnut hair askew, she turned in time to see Kieran stepping over the bodies of Corbin’s two cohorts. Bud was twitching somewhat, trying to push himself up as Kieran’s blazing eyes focused on Corbin. But the lawyer merely cast him an unwavering glance.
“I don’t know who you are, but this is a legal matter and you will refrain from interfering,” he turned back to Rory, flushed and panting in his grasp. “Once again, Dr. Osgrove, you will tell me what you did with Sir Kieran’s body. The Hage family’s patience is sorely tested with your maverick actions.”
She didn’t say anything, her wide-open gaze on Kieran as he approached. Kieran met her eyes momentarily, if only to soften for a brief moment at her expression of fear and anger. But just as swiftly, his gaze returned to Corbin.
“I told you to release her,” he demanded hoarsely. “You came for me and I shall turn myself over to you completely. But you will let her go first.”
Again, Corbin looked at him strangely. “I most certainly did not come for you. But you’ll vacate this room if you know what’s good for you.”
Kieran sized the man up. Aye, he looked like Simon. And he spoke like Simon, too. But there was something in his harsh expression that indicated lack of recognition and Kieran was puzzled. The Simon he had once known would have dropped the woman and had a dagger to his neck by now.
But this Simon did not have any weapons. And the men who had accompanied him were not the usual cast of characters. Aye, even though the man holding Rory bore the same features of the man he had once loved and then grown to hate, there was a distinct difference that was difficult to isolate.
Nonetheless, he sensed nothing but danger from the man and quickly decided to act; reaching out, he grasped Corbin by the neck, causing him to release his grip on his quarry. As Rory fell away, Kieran tossed Corbin against the wall like a macabre rag doll.
Rory gasped as Corbin hit the wall with a thud, knocking over the bed stand. Kieran immediately went to her, placing his big body protectively between the dazed lawyer and the frightened lady. Gaze hard as stone and body tense, he continued to watch Corbin as the man shook his head in an attempt to regain his senses.
“You stupid bastard,” Corbin finally hissed, rubbing the back of his head. “Now you add assault to the list of charges.”
“He was protecting me!” Rory fired back, her hands on Kieran’s thick forearm. “You’ve got a lot of nerve breaking in here like this and beating people up!”
“And you, Dr. Osgrove, are in deep trouble for stealing what does not belong to you,” he snarled, eyeing the massive man in front of her. “And your… your bodyguard here cannot protect you from jail time.”
Before Rory could respond, Kieran delved into the conversation. “Damnation, Simon, how did you find me?”
Corbin’s brow furrowed in puzzlement and irritation. “I told you to stay out of this. And as for…”
“Do not play games with me,” Kieran’s expression darkened. “I realize it’s been a long time, but surely you cannot take me for such a fool. I asked how you found me and you will do me the courtesy of answering.”
Corbin sighed heavily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This matter is between the doctor and myself and I cannot believe I’m debating this with you.”
“We are not debating. In fact, we are scarcely communicating. But know this; even as you resort to trickery and brutality to gain your wants, I will tell you now that I do not have in my possession what you seek. You have followed me a very long way for nothing, old friend.”
Corbin was thoroughly perplexed not to mention greatly annoyed. “What in the hell are you talking about? You have nothing to do with…”
His words were abruptly cut off by a loud shattering of glass and metal and wire. Rory shrieked with surprise as Bud brought a fine porcelain lamp down on Corbin’s neck and head, having managed to sneak up behind the man as Kieran kept him occupied. The lawyer fell like stone, sprawled out on the floor as Rory removed herself from behind Kieran and rushed to her pale, shaken associate.
“Bud!” she cried softly, jumping aide when he tossed the base of the lamp still in his grip. “Are you all right?”
He nodded weakly, massaging the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, looking about the carnage of the room. “But we’d better get out of here before these guys come around.”
Kieran knelt beside Simon, looking him over intently. “God’s Blood,” he muttered, rising to his feet. “Through eight centuries, he has actually found me. Strange how he didn’t outright kill me, but rather resorted to covert actions to…”
“Enough,” Bud reached out and grabbed Rory by the arm. His head was swimming and his stomach lurching and he simply wanted to get the hell out of there. “Come on. We’ll figure out what to do next after we’ve collected our luggage.”
“But Kieran…” Rory turned to the knight as Bud pulled her by the arm. “Hurry and get your duffle bag, Kieran. We’ve got to go!”
Bud didn’t protest as Rory beckoned the big man to follow; he was desperate to leave and had no intention of lingering a moment longer to argue the point with his smitten colleague. There was little doubt, however, that he would get rid of the imposter at a later time. With Rory in tow, Bud stepped over the bodies of Corbin’s colleagues, noticing that one man was beginning to stir.
Outside in the corridor, Rory pulled her hand free of Bud’s grasp and in turn took Kieran’s hand. Bud cast them both a long glance, feeling the embers of jealousy burn bright once again but put his turbulent emotions aside in lieu of getting them all out of the hotel before Corbin and his men grew lucid. Ignoring the fearful looks of the people still in the sitting area who had heard the commotion upstairs, the three of them spilled out into the late afternoon sunshine.
As Rory pondered what the total of the damaged room would come to on her already maxed-out American Express card, Bud noticed the black Mercedes parked at the curb. He recognized it as Corbin’s and went to the window, peering inside. Suddenly, he jerked the door open.
“The keys are in it,” he motioned for Rory and Kieran to get in. “Come on! Hurry!”
Rory jumped in as Kieran fumbled around with the door latch. With a grunt of frustration, she leapt out of the car, opened the door for him, and practically shoved him inside. Plopping back into the passenger seat, Bud turned on the engine and threw it into gear as Rory took the cigarette lighter away from Kieran in the back seat. Whipping a wild U-turn, they took off in the direction of Hyde Park.