Dark Carousel (Dark 26)

Then there was Tariq Asenguard. It was definitely the wrong time to be attracted to a man, but for the first time in her life she had a real interest in someone--she was attracted both physically and intellectually. Tariq had put his life on the line for Genevieve and her. He was courageous, and the last thing she wanted to do was appear weak in front of him.

"I'm not going to fall down," she denied, but she wasn't certain if it was a lie or not. She couldn't stop the body tremors.

"No, you're not," he agreed in his soft, way-too-mesmerizing voice. "Because I've got my arm around you. See over there, by the lake? The little house?" He waited for her to nod her head before continuing. "It used to be the boathouse, but I have a very nice couple living there. Donald and Mary Walton. Good people. You will like them. I met them one evening coming out of the club. I had taken a walk after the club closed because I couldn't sleep. They had been sleeping in their car and woke when a couple of thieves, bent on robbing them at gunpoint, trying to take what little they had, pounded on the roof of the car. I heard the noise and went to their assistance. They were a very nice couple, just down on their luck."

She stared up at his face, a little shocked that the very elegant Mr. Asenguard, owner of several nightclubs, could talk about saving a couple so casually, as if it hadn't mattered at all, just that they were a delightful couple. "And you invited them to live on your property?" She couldn't keep the astonishment from her voice. Why would he do that? She didn't know a single person who would do something like that.

"Yes. They needed a home. They are good people, Charlie."

She wasn't certain if there was a hint of censure in his voice, as if he didn't get that her astonishment was because people just didn't do that kind of thing as a rule--take in complete strangers. He acted as if anyone would do it.

"Donald has a job now. He's a damned good accountant, but his old firm got rid of him because he was getting older and has a few health issues. He helps with my books and has been a huge help to my accountant but doesn't have to work full-time and can take off when his illness flares up. Now he earns enough for them to pay for a few extras, and they help look after the children."

"Children?" she echoed faintly.

His property was beautiful and very, very expensive. Every detail was perfect. The landscaping, the mansion rising three stories into the air with gables and balconies. It was Victorian architecture at its most stunning. The house had wings and bays running in various directions as well as generous amounts of gingerbread. A large octagonal tower with a steep, pointed roof rose up from the third story, forming one corner of the ornate house. A large wraparound covered porch with ornamental brackets and spindles provided a tremendous view of the lake. The other homes were some distance from the main house, but all were smaller replicas of the larger mansion.

"I have four orphans living on the property." Tariq turned to indicate the house that would have been the guardhouse. Or a home for bodyguards or servants. "A boy and three girls. They were living on the streets as well."

"Children?" Genevieve repeated, sliding out of the car to stand beside them. "Shouldn't they be in some form of government care? Why would they be living here?"

"I am their official guardian, or will be in a few days when the paperwork goes through. They have someone very dangerous after them. The men Fridrick runs with killed their parents, although there is not any proof of that. Vadim and Fridrick kidnapped the girls. By the time we were able to rescue them, one of the girls had been severely injured and the baby was traumatized. Thankfully I have enough money to provide the best care possible for them. I also can keep them safe."

This time there was no mistake. Tariq's voice did hold more than a note of censure, as if he thought perhaps the two of them were criticizing him for taking in children and a homeless couple.

"I think that's wonderful of you," Charlotte said immediately, because it was the strict truth--she did think he was wonderful. Almost too good to be true. Were there still men in the world who looked out for others, were gorgeous, courtly and courageous? She couldn't believe how attracted she was to the man. It was so unlike her, but everything about him appealed to her.

Tariq looked puzzled, as if she wasn't making sense. "They are children. All of them are traumatized, although Danny would never admit that he is. He is fifteen and already thinks of himself as a man. I have to go carefully with him so as not to step on that protective trait of his or his pride. Amelia is fourteen, Liv is ten and Bella is three. She is the right age to hopefully become friends with your little Lourdes."

More and more she was prepared to accept his offer of staying and working on his carousel horses. She couldn't protect Lourdes indefinitely, not from Fridrick. And there was still the puzzle of the three men who were following them. She gasped, pressing her fingers to her mouth, biting down on the pad of her index finger as she thought of the memories she'd pulled from Daniel Forester's mind.

"What is it, sielamet?" He shackled her wrist with deceptive gentleness, tugging until she let him remove her fingers from her lips. He pulled her hand to his chest, resting her palm over his heart, covering her hand with his own and pressing it there. "You thought of something disturbing."

Charlotte had no idea what he'd called her, but the way he said it, soft and low, his voice a caress, had her stomach doing a slow roll in spite of her agitation.

"The three men following us. I know this sounds crazy, but they're killers as well. Genevieve and I were going to try to find out more about them. We went to the club with the idea of luring them out into the open."

"You did what?"

He interrupted her, and the air was suddenly thick with heat. Oppressive heat. Uh-oh. Her gorgeous man had a temper after all. His eyes, a deep blue, had gone turbulent, a sea storm out of control. He suddenly looked much larger. Although he retained that sophisticated air, it looked more a veneer when he was very predatory.

Charlotte moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. His gaze dropped to that small, nervous gesture, and she wished that she'd been more careful. She'd parked the car a distance from the house because she'd wanted to get out and see his property. The high fence had scared her a little and she hadn't wanted to jump into any commitment, but she definitely needed a safe haven for Lourdes. For the first time, she was really uneasy.

"We needed to draw them out into the open," Charlotte said.

"We're sick of being afraid all the time," Genevieve added, her voice trembling.

That told Charlotte that Genevieve saw the predator in Tariq as well. She tried to step back, to put distance between them, but Tariq pulled her closer to him, bending his head until his eyes stared directly into hers. The irises were dark, wide, and she could see flames burning there. Up that close, he was still gorgeous, maybe even more so, but he was also mesmerizing, a strong, angry male, trapping her in his stormy, turbulent gaze.

She drew in her breath sharply. Moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. Tried to find her voice, even though her throat seemed to be closed. "Tariq." His name. Not his last name. Just his name. An intimacy she hadn't expected or wanted, but she'd put it out there in a low, trembling voice she hadn't meant to use.

"Sielamet."

Just that. Another language, one she didn't understand, but the way he said it, so softly, so intimately, she felt the name like a caress moving over her skin.

"Why are you angry?" She had to understand. That was important. Extremely important. She rarely thought it was prudent to run, but his anger was a tangible, living entity, so oppressive, the air around them thickened.

"You put yourself in danger." An accusation. Plain. Stark. Raw.

She glanced at Genevieve, because she needed to look away from that unblinking, focused stare. He reminded her of a large wolf watching prey. Waiting for an opportunity to leap. But he was right. She had put herself in danger. She'd put Genevieve in danger as well. They hadn't known whether the three men following them were involved in the

murders of their friends and family, but they'd known what they were doing was dangerous.

She nodded. "Yes. That's true. I did that, but we weren't safe. Lourdes wasn't safe. We had to know what we were dealing with, and we didn't know about Fridrick. We hadn't realized there were two threats, not one. So good came out of it."

His fingers tightened around her wrist and he pressed her hand tighter against his chest. So tightly she felt the steady beat of his heart. Strangely, her heart reacted, slowly picking up the same rhythm so that she thought the two hearts drummed one beat at a time together. It was such a strange phenomenon that she paused, her brain still scrambling for a defense, when her mind and body was totally tuned to him.

"Good came out of it?" he repeated slowly, each word enunciated tersely. "Fridrick could have taken both of you. Do you realize how dangerous he is? You wouldn't have been able to stop him or his men from taking you and believe me, life would have become a living hell for you."

She didn't doubt that for a moment. She knew he had saved them. He hadn't put it in so many words, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt in her mind that if Tariq and his intimidating friends hadn't come along, she and Genevieve, and most likely Lourdes, would have been in deep trouble. On that thought came another much more disturbing one.

Charlotte pressed her fingertips against Tariq's broad chest, feeling the muscles beneath his immaculate shirt ripple in response to her touch. "How did he know where Lourdes was?" She tipped her head up so she could meet Tariq's eyes again. The jolt was hard to take. It felt as if their souls connected and he could see right into her. "How could he have known?"