and took a deep breath of the cold night air.
For once in his life, he would give himself up to someone else’s control. To Rose’s. The truth was, he admitted quietly to himself, the power had always been hers.
He stared at the moonlight frosting the black ocean waves. From the moment they’d met, he’d thought he’d been the one in control. He’d been her captor; she’d been his prisoner. But she had always been the more powerful one, though neither of them had realized it. And tomorrow, she would decide his fate.
Reaching for his phone, he dialed. The first number was to his lawyer in San Francisco. The second was a hated number he knew by heart.
“Växborg,” he said, “I’m ready to trade.”
THE next morning, gray rain streaked the windows on the drive north to San Francisco.
Rose wore a black dress and black raincoat, appropriate for either a death in the family or for any woman being traded away like a used car. She glanced for the tenth time at Xerxes sitting beside her in the backseat of the black SUV. He continued to ignore her.
Her family had offered to give them a ride to the airport, but he’d refused, and a half hour later, a black SUV and a full-sized van had roared in front of the old rambling house. Six bodyguards in dark suits had poured out as a uniformed chauffeur opened the door for Xerxes. Her parents’ jaws had dropped. So much for regular folk!
Today, Rose thought, giving him another nervous side glance. Today, she would tell him she loved him. But not now. No, not yet. Biting her lip, she gripped her hands together, staring down at her lap. The plane ride to Las Vegas would last two hours. There was no need to blurt out her personal feelings in earshot of the chauffeur and bodyguard in the front seat!
Especially since she was already so scared…
She looked out at the passing scenery and gave a sudden start. Leaning forward, she touched the chauffeur’s shoulder timidly. “Excuse me, but you’ve made a mistake. We’re not even close to the city!”
“He hasn’t made a mistake,” Xerxes said.
She sat back in her seat. “He hasn’t?”
“We’re not going to the airport.”
“We’re not?”
He turned to look at her. His eyes were dark. “Do you remember I told you about the medical clinic an hour east of San Francisco? The best brain trauma clinic in the country?”
She stared at him. “We’re going to the clinic? Not Las Vegas?”
He nodded.
“You got Laetitia back!” she whispered.
He looked away. “Yes.”
Staring at him, a slow feeling of joy rose inside her as she realized what it had to mean.
Xerxes wasn’t going to trade her after all. He’d realized he cared about Rose more than his iron-clad promises. He must have gone back on his vow never to pay off Lars, and offered the man a fortune in trade for Laetitia instead of Rose. It was the only solution that made sense!
Xerxes had chosen Rose. He’d decided she was more important to him than his promise!
But as she looked at him, the smile slid from her face. Was that why Xerxes didn’t look particularly happy? Because for the first time in his life, he’d broken his word?
The SUV passed a thicket of juniper trees and drove past a gate into the parking lot of a small modern hospital. The building was blocky and sterile, but even in the cold rain of late February, Rose had never seen anything so beautiful.
Xerxes had chosen her. Over his promises. Over honor. It was all she could do not to wrap her arms around herself and sing a happy song. And suddenly, she was so filled with love for him that she no longer cared who heard her.
As the car stopped in front of the hospital, she turned to Xerxes in the backseat.
“I love you,” she blurted out.
His black eyes widened. She heard his intake of breath. “Rose—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “If I don’t tell you now, I might never have the courage. I love you, Xerxes. I love you and I’ll never forget that today you chose me over…”
Her voice trailed off as she saw a red Ferrari roar past their SUV, followed by a van. The vehicles parked in front of them on the curb. A man got out of the Ferrari, and Rose’s eyes widened. Her hand fell numbly into her lap.
“Lars?” Shocked, she turned to Xerxes, her eyes begging for an explanation she could bear. “What is Lars doing here?”
The driver and chauffeur got out of the SUV, closing the doors solidly behind them, and they were alone. Xerxes’s face was almost expressionless as he faced her.
“He’s here for the trade.”
Rose stared at him. “The…trade?”
She turned back to see Lars open the back doors of the van parked in front of them. Inside, Rose saw a slender, dark-haired woman sleeping on a stretcher. Lars glared at Xerxes, jabbing his thumb toward the unconscious woman, then waited with a sour expression, his hands on his hips.
Then he saw Rose and gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.
Twisting her head away, Rose closed her eyes with a whimper. “You can’t trade me. You can’t.”
“I have no choice.”
His cold words went through her soul like a blow.
She’d been a fool to think he’d changed, or that he cared about her. His honor meant more to him than Rose ever could. Her heart fell to her shoes with a dull thud. Blinking fast, she said, “There must be some other way—”
“There is not,” he said. “I’ve tried. Tried and failed. Everywhere I looked for her, I arrived too late. I have no choice but to trade.” His dark eyes glittered as he looked up at her. “But what happens next is up to you.”
She stared at him in sudden shock.
“Those weren’t business trips at all, were they?” she breathed. “The honeymoon cottage in the Maldives. Our villa in Cabo. I thought they were romantic trips we took for your work, but the whole time you were searching for Laetitia behind my back!”
He gave a single jerky nod.
Tears flooded her eyes. “You’re no better than Lars,” she whispered. “Romancing one woman while committed to another.”
“That’s not how it was!”
She saw dark pain in Xerxes’s eyes, but she was too hurt to hold back any longer. “Who is Laetitia to you,
