Chapter 072

When she was finished packing, she grabbed her mother’s tattered copy

of North and South. For the next hour as she waited, sitting on the bed,

Lyra tried to concentrate on the love story, though she found herself reading

the same paragraph over and over.

Viktor’s footstep was heavy as he pushed aside the heavy cotton flap of

the door. She looked up from her book, her heart fluttering, as it always did

at the breathtaking masculine beauty of his face, the hard edge of his

jawline, dark with five o’clock shadow, and the curved edge of his

cheekbones. His blue eyes looked tired.

Setting down the book on the bed, Lyra asked anxiously, “Is he going to

be all right?”

“Yes.” He went to the basin and poured clear, fresh water over his dirty

hands. “His uncle put a proper splint on his leg. The helicopter just left to

take them all to the hospital in Marrakech.”

“Thank heaven,” Lyra whispered.

Viktor didn’t answer. But as he dried his hands, she saw the shadows

beneath his eyes, the tightness of his shoulders.

Without a word, she came up behind him. Closing her eyes, she wrapped

her arms around his body, pressing her cheek against his back until she felt

his tension slowly relax into her embrace.

A moment later, with a shudder, he finally turned around in her arms to

face her.

“You were the first to reach him,” he said in a low voice. “Thank you.”

Her eyes glistened with tears. “It was nothing.”

Viktor gave her a ghost of a smile. “You were much faster than I

thought.”

“I told you my father and Illyra were gone a lot,” she said in a small

voice. “My babysitter was a former championship snowboarder from the

Lower Forty-Eight.”

“You grew up in Anchorage, didn’t you?” He gave a low, humorless

laugh. “Had a season pass at Alyeska?”

“Since I was four years old.” She gave him a trembling smile. “If it’s any

consolation, I’m faster than Illyra, too. She’s horrible on the mountain. Strap

skis or a snowboard on her feet and she’ll plow nose-first into the snow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But you and I,” she said quickly, “it was a close race...”

“Not even.” He bared his teeth in a smile. “You won by a mile.”

With an intake of breath, Lyra searched his gaze. “Viktor, you have to

know that I never meant to—”

“And I see you’ve packed. Good.” He glanced down at her backpack.

“I’ll show you to your new tent.”

“Fantastic,” she said, crestfallen. Against her will, she hungrily searched

his handsome face, his deep blue eyes, his sensual lips. She didn’t want to

be away from him. She didn’t. “If not for the accident,” she said, glancing at

him sideways, “the race could have ended very differently...”

“Lyra, please,” Viktor growled. “Do not attempt to assuage my

masculine pride. That would just add insult to injury.” Picking up her

backpack, he tossed it over his shoulder. “I’ll send over your trunk of new

clothes later. You’ll likely only be here at the camp for another week or

two.”

“Just me? Not you?”

He set his jaw. “I’m going to go look for your sister.”

“I thought you said it was too soon,” Lyra said faintly.

He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll leave you and

go get her. Both the things you wanted. It’s your lucky day.”

It was ending. He was leaving her. She thought of the time she’d wasted,

longing for him to kiss her and doing nothing. Waiting—always waiting—

with a timid heart!

“But you said you couldn’t trust me. That if you brought back my sister

early, I might demand a hundred million dollars for my land...”

He gave a hard laugh. “You’re more trustworthy than anyone in this

crazy, savage world. Including me.” Grabbing her upper arms, he looked

down at her. “Serves me right,” he muttered. “I never should have tried to

get around my promise.”

“Take me with you.”

His eyes widened, then he slowly shook his head. “It’ll be better...for

your sake...for both of us...it’s best that we separate.”

“Separate,” she echoed, feeling hollow.

“Until the land comes through.”

She swallowed. “Until we divorce.”

His lips curved into a humorless smile. “You know what, I’m almost glad

I lost.” He tucked a loose tendril of her brown hair behind her ear, then

looked straight into her eyes. “Save yourself, Lyra. For your next husband.

For a man who can deserve you. Who can love you,” he added softly.

Turning away, Viktor started to walk towards the door.

“I intended to lose the race,” she blurted out.

She heard his intake of breath. He slowly turned to face her.

“Why?” he asked in a low voice.

She gulped. She had to be brave. To tell the truth. And do it now. Now,

without thinking about the risk or cost. Now.

Lyra crossed the tent to him. Standing up on her tiptoes, she put her

hands on his shoulders and looked straight into his startled blue eyes.

“Because I wanted you to seduce me,” she whispered.

And leaning forward, she kissed his lips.