The Golden Valkyrie Page 3

  “Like Señora Gomez?” Honey asked caustically. “He doesn’t appear to have been too trustworthy in her case. She was absolutely terrified when she couldn’t persuade him to either destroy or return those letters. She was sure that her husband would discover that she’d had an affair with Prince Rubinoff.”

  Ben Raschid frowned. “That doesn’t fit the picture either. Alonzo Gomez is usually very tolerant of Manuela’s affairs as long as she’s discreet. Why should she be in such a tizzy at this late date?”

  “Since when are Prince Rubinoff’s affairs ever discreet?” Honey asked dryly.

  A smile lit up Ben Raschid’s dark, guarded face with surprising warmth. “You have a point there,” he admitted. “So I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see what Manuela has to say, won’t we?”

  Whatever Manuela had to say seemed to take an inconceivably long time, for it was another ten minutes at least before Rubinoff came back into the room. It was clear that the conversation had not pleased him, for there was a dark frown on his face.

  “The woman has the brain of a flea,” he said disgustedly as he strolled over to the couch to stand before Honey. “And the ethical standards of the commandant of a concentration camp. I’m sorry, Honey.”

  “Sorry?” Honey asked slowly, sitting up straighter on the couch.

  “It was Manuela’s idea of a joke,” Rubinoff explained, his expression grave. “I haven’t called her since we flew into town, and she thought it would be a clever way of getting my attention.” His scowl darkened. “Dear heaven, how I hate kittenish women!”

  “But you weren’t even supposed to be here,” Honey said blankly, trying to comprehend what he was telling her.

  “She was going to make an anonymous phone call at the dinner party tonight and have me summoned back to the suite.” He grimaced. “She thought finding a luscious blonde in my suite who was supposedly sent by her would intrigue me. Like I said, she’s not very bright. It never occurred to her that the blonde would make me forget that Manuela ever existed.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think she’s quite clever,” Honey said slowly. At first she had been stunned and disbelieving, but now she felt a slow-burning anger that was greater than any she had known. “She was certainly clever enough to fool me. Your mistress must have been very pleased with herself. I was completely taken in.”

  It only increased her fury when he shrugged and failed to deny the accusation. “I told you she was a fool,” he said gruffly. “And she’s not my mistress. Not anymore.”

  Honey jumped to her feet and faced him, her hands knotted into fists at her sides. “Do you mean that her charming little ploy didn’t earn her a place back in your affections?” she asked caustically. “I’d have thought it would have amused you enormously, Your Highness. You’re quite a one for pranks yourself, I understand. No wonder she thought that making a fool out of an innocent bystander would intrigue you.”

  There was an answering flicker of anger in Rubinoff’s eyes. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been accused of any real maliciousness in any of the mischief I’ve perpetrated,” he said curtly. “And I’ll be damned if I’ll accept the responsibility for Manuela’s little tricks.” He drew a deep breath and said more quietly, “I said I was sorry. If you’ll just calm down, we can discuss how I can make it up to you.”

  Honey was pacing up and down like an enraged lioness, her hair floating about her in a shimmering white-gold veil, her face taut with fury. “And what do you intend to do to recompense me, Your Highness?” she asked furiously. “Perhaps you could write me a check for my trouble. Isn’t that the usual method of handling the hoi polloi? Write the lady a check and she’ll forget she’d been humiliated and manipulated. After all, it was just a joke!”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a bit unfair, Miss Winston?” Ben Raschid asked quietly. “Lance has already explained that this wasn’t a part of his game plan.”

  “Game plan,” Honey repeated bitterly. “Yes, that’s really the right name for it. It’s all a game to people like you, isn’t it? You think that you can use people and then just throw them away like tissues. Well, I don’t like being considered disposable. I may not be a member of your precious jet set, but I have more integrity than the whole kit and kaboodle of you, despite the fact that I have to work for my living!” She paused in her pacing to stand before Rubinoff, her breasts heaving, her cheeks flaming with bright flags of color. “You should try it sometime. It’s a great character builder, a quality you’re obviously lacking. Perhaps if you had something to occupy you besides bedding malicious little coffee heiresses and nympho ice skaters, you might develop a little.”

  “I agree,” Rubinoff said solemnly, his lips twitching. “I think bedding a dedicated private detective would be much more inspiring.”

  Honey gritted her teeth to keep from shouting at him. Couldn’t the man stay serious for two consecutive minutes? “I’m glad you’re finding this amusing,” she said fiercely. “But then, what else could I expect from a dilettante like you?”

  She wheeled and strode swiftly across the room, toward the door, her back rigid with fury. “Good night, gentlemen. It’s been an experience to remember, but not one I’d care to repeat.” The door slammed sharply behind her.

  “Somehow I don’t think you managed to soothe her ruffled feelings,” Ben Raschid said mockingly, taking a sip of his drink. “She still appears a trifle perturbed with you.”

  “Can you blame her?” Rubinoff asked tersely, frowning at the closed door moodily. “Damn Manuela Gomez!”

  Ben Raschid finished his drink in one swallow and rose lithely to his feet. “As entertaining as I found it to see you under fire, I’m glad your gorgeous Valkyrie decided to put an end to the scene. We’re going to be late for the party as it is. I suggest that we grab a quick bite and get on our way.”

  “You go ahead. I’m not hungry,” Rubinoff told him absently, still staring at the door. “With all that shining silvery hair floating about her and those great blazing eyes, she was rather like a Valkyrie, wasn’t she?”

  Ben Raschid’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully on his cousin’s absorbed face. “It’s natural that she should capture your imagination,” he said slowly. “But may I remind you that the Valkyries were reputed to be very dangerous ladies?”

  “But not boring,” Rubinoff murmured. “Definitely not boring.” He turned away abruptly and strode toward the telephone on the graceful Sheraton desk in the corner of the room. “Do you still have the card that fellow from the State Department gave you? What was his name?”

  “Josh Davies,” Ben Raschid answered. “I think I tossed it in the top desk drawer.” He watched curiously as Rubinoff riffled through the drawer impatiently until he found the business card and picked up the phone. “He’ll probably be at the party this evening. Why not wait and speak to him there?”

  Rubinoff shook his head, his hair glowing flame-like under the overhead light. “This will only take a minute,” he said crisply, “and I want him to get started on it right away.”

  TWO

  “YOU KNOW, OF course, that I’m not going to let you get away without furnishing me with all the gory details,” Nancy Rodriguez warned sternly the moment that Honey walked into the office the next morning.

  “I told you on the phone last night.” Honey shrugged and strolled over to the oval mirror on the wall that Nancy had insisted was an essential office expenditure. She smoothed a few errant strands of her hair back into its sleek coil while carefully avoiding Nancy’s bright, curious eyes. “Señora Gomez turned out to be a lady rat on the same scale as Ben Lackland. I think under the circumstances we’re justified in keeping the retainer.”

  “You’re damn right we are,” Nancy replied emphatically. “But that’s not what I want to hear about, and you know it, Honey Winston.” She sighed. “You’re the only woman on the face of the earth who could be closeted with two of the sexiest men in the world for almost an hour and come out talking coolly about retainers. Wh
at was Prince Rubinoff like? Was he as handsome as his pictures? Did he make a pass at you? Talk to me!”

  Somehow she didn’t want to talk about that strange, exasperating meeting with Lance Rubinoff, even with Nancy. After she had cooled down a bit she’d realized that she probably owed Lance Rubinoff an apology for the insults she had hurled at him before she’d stalked out the door. He hadn’t been directly responsible for his former mistress’s misdeeds and had even apologized most sincerely and offered to recompense her. He had really acted with surprising generosity, when she considered that she had tried to burgle his suite. If she hadn’t felt so manipulated and betrayed, she would never have been so unjust as to blame the prince for the woman’s crimes. Perhaps she’d send him a note of explanation and apology before he left Houston.

  She smiled ruefully at her reflection in the mirror. Lance Rubinoff would probably not even remember her name, much less the events of the last evening, in a few weeks’ time. She’d skip the note.

  “Do you really think it likely that he would be interested in making advances to a trespasser?” Honey asked evasively.

  “If the trespasser looked like you and the trespassee was Lusty Lance,” Nancy answered promptly. Her lips curled in disgust. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Honey said lightly. She turned away from the mirror, crossed back to her secretary’s desk, and perched on the corner. “I’m sure that, given the same set of circumstances, you’d have a much more interesting tale to disclose. But then, you’re always telling me how dull I am,” she said with an affectionate grin.

  “Well, you’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Nancy said morosely. “You’re a disgrace to womanhood.” She sighed resignedly. “I guess it’s just as well; Rubinoff would be pretty strong stuff for a novice.”

  “I’m glad that you’ve seen fit to forgive me,” Honey commented dryly as she stood up and strolled toward her office. “I don’t suppose there have been any messages? Why should today be any different?”

  “Oh, madre de Dios! I forget to tell you. There’s a man waiting for you in your office. He’s been here about thirty minutes.”

  “A client?” Honey asked hopefully, her face brightening. She could use a little good news, after that debacle last night.

  “Could be,” Nancy replied cheerfully. “He wouldn’t confide his business to a lowly secretary like me. But he’s fairly well dressed and has that solid-citizen look. His name is Josh Davies.”

  Honey crossed her fingers and held them up in a farewell salute before disappearing into her office. She could see immediately why Nancy referred to the man who rose politely from the visitor’s chair at her entrance as a solid-citizen type. In his mid-fifties, his stocky body was clad in a dark-blue suit that was beautifully tailored, and his crisp white shirt was a discreet contrast. His gray-streaked hair was neither too long nor too short, but just right, and meticulously styled into smooth waves. Even his expression was smooth and bland, though his gray eyes were surprisingly keen.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Davies,” Honey said briskly, coming forward with her hand outstretched. “How may I help you?”

  Josh Davies’s handshake was firm, and his glance discreetly appreciative as it traveled over her full graceful curves in the pearl-gray pants suit.

  “I’m afraid that I’m guilty of being a little overeager, Miss Winston,” Davies said with a rueful smile. “I wanted to be sure to catch you before you took on any other assignments today. It’s extremely important that you start working for us right away.”

  “Us?” Honey asked, her brows arched in enquiry as she strolled behind her desk and dropped into the leather executive chair. “Please sit down, Mr. Davies. I admit to being very intrigued by your urgency.”

  “I’m with the Department of State, Miss Winston,” Davies said in a low tone. “And I assure you that I’m not exaggerating the importance of the job that I have for you, or its extreme urgency. We want you to assume the duty of personal bodyguard to a foreign dignitary visiting in this country, whom we believe is marked for assassination.” He pulled out a notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. “According to your dossier, you’ve twice acted in that capacity while you worked for the Houston Police Department—first, protecting a material witness while awaiting trial; second, guarding a television anchorwoman who received a death threat.”

  “Dossier?” Honey asked blankly. “You have a dossier on me?”

  Davies closed the notebook and smiled soothingly at her. “We felt it was necessary when your name was suggested for the assignment. We had to be sure of both your personal integrity and your competence before entrusting you with Prince Rubinoff’s safety.”

  “Prince Rubinoff?” Honey sat bolt upright in her chair, and her eyes widened in surprise. “You want me to protect Prince Rubinoff?”

  “Actually, the job would involve the safety of both Prince Rubinoff and his cousin, Alex Ben Raschid, but naturally you would be Prince Rubinoff’s official bodyguard,” Davies said briskly. “The job would be essentially the same as the ones you’ve worked before. You’d live on the premises and accompany the prince everywhere he goes. If you feel the situation calls for backup, you need only phone me or one of my assistants and we’ll see that you have the additional manpower.”

  “Wait a minute,” Honey said slowly. “You’re going a little too fast for me. Since when has the United States government contracted out its security assignments? What happened to the FBI or the CIA?”

  Davies looked a little uncomfortable. “It seems that Prince Rubinoff won’t permit the usual security arrangements. It’s either you or nothing. He was quite adamant on that point when he called me last night and—”

  “He called you last night?” Honey interrupted, her lips tightening. “I think I’m beginning to see the light.” And she had actually been feeling guilty for her verbal attack on him! Her physical appeal for him had been obvious, but she hadn’t thought that he’d go to these lengths to maneuver her into a vulnerable position. She felt a tiny stirring of disappointment that he’d used his position and clout to advance his pursuit of her. Somehow she’d thought better of him than that.

  “I don’t think you need to worry about an assassination attempt on Prince Rubinoff. After you investigate his little ploy, I believe you’ll find that this threat comes straight from his imagination.” She rose to her feet. “In any case, I’m not interested in this particular assignment, Mr. Davies. You’ll have to find someone else to hold Prince Rubinoff’s hand. I’m sure he can supply you with a lengthy list of substitutes. Good day.”

  “Sit down, Miss Winston.” Josh Davies’s voice was as courteous and well modulated as before, but there was a trace of steel in it now, which was echoed in the sharpness of his keen gray eyes. “We haven’t finished our discussion, and I have no intention of permitting you to refuse me. The stakes are far too high.”

  “This is my office, Mr. Davies,” Honey said belligerently, “and I have no intention of—”

  “Sit down, Miss Winston,” Davies repeated, and this time the steel was sharpened into razorlike menace. “I wanted our arrangement to be an amicable one, but it seems you’re going to require some ‘persuasion.’ You realize that your action last night in entering Prince Rubinoff’s suite for purposes of theft was not only unorthodox but actually criminal?”

  Honey sat down again. “He told you about that?” she asked, moistening her lips nervously.

  Davies nodded. “He told me not to use it as a lever unless I was unable to obtain your services in any other way.” His lips curved cynically. “It appears that he read your character very well, considering you have such a short acquaintance. You do know that a telephone call to City Hall from either myself or Prince Rubinoff would result in immediate revocation of your license?”

  “Yes, I’d be a fool not to be aware of that,” Honey replied faintly. “It was the risk I took.” What an incredibly s
tupid risk it had been, to put her entire career on the line because she was tempted by a large fee and conned by a malicious little schemer.

  Davies evidently agreed with her. “It was extremely foolish of you, Miss Winston,” he said disapprovingly. He glanced at the notebook in his hand. “Understandable, perhaps, considering your present financial circumstances, but still very foolish. You’re very fortunate that Prince Rubinoff is willing to forego pressing charges.”

  “Provided that I move into his suite,” Honey said caustically. “I had no idea that the State Department was providing that type of service for visiting dignitaries.”

  Davies’s expression soured. “I’m not acting as a pimp for His Highness, Miss Winston,” he said tautly. “The position I’ve offered you is a legitimate one in every way. It’s an opportunity that any of your colleagues would snap up in a minute. I might add that a good deal of prestige and publicity always accompanies the protection of royalty.”

  “I don’t doubt that there would be publicity, but not the type that I’d relish,” Honey said bitterly. She leaned forward, her expression earnestly appealing. “Look, Mr. Davies, if your department looks upon this as legitimate employment, surely you can see that it’s totally unnecessary. Lance Rubinoff doesn’t need protection.” Her lips curved in a mocking smile. “Except perhaps from his ex-mistress. It’s all just a trick, a huge practical joke at my expense. Prince Rubinoff obviously has a rather bizarre sense of humor.”

  Davies shook his head. “You seem to be suffering from a misapprehension, Miss Winston. Prince Rubinoff didn’t come to us with a threat on his life. We went to him. I can assure you that the danger is quite real and that the informant is most reliable. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to convince either His Highness or his cousin to accept a live-in bodyguard. Consequently, we’ve had to limit our surveillance. Naturally, when Prince Rubinoff called and offered to let us have an agent on the premises, we jumped at it.”