"And what," she asked scathingly, "would that be?" He met her gaze. "That whatever lies between you, the rumors are wrong. He doesn't share your bed."

"Well?" Ian asked as Ruel walked into his hotel room an hour later. "Was your day productive?"

"Productive enough." Ruel stripped off his coat and shirt and strode across the room toward the washstand. "I met Patrick Reilly."

"And?"

"He's not involved with Kartauk. I'd judge he isn't involved with anything but his bottle."

"Poor lass."

"She wouldn't appreciate your sympathy." He poured water into the bowl and began splashing his face. "And anyone who can take on Abdar is too strong to deserve it."

"I still feel sorry for her. She reminds me a little of Margaret."

"Our pure and proper Maggie would not be pleased at the comparison with a woman who frequents brothels and struts around wearing men's clothes." He grabbed a towel and dried his face. "Believe me, they're nothing alike."

"You never really knew Margaret." Ian smiled. "And I don't believe you know that child."

"I'll know her soon." He cast him a glance over his shoulder. "And Kartauk." He began unbuckling his belt. "This Li Sung she mentioned is supposedly in Narinth. Why don't you take a ride tomorrow and see if he's really there?"

"You think he has something to do with Kartauk?"

"Maybe. I know she lied about where he is." He threw his belt on the chair and began unbuttoning his trousers. "She doesn't lie well."

"Which means she's an honest lass."

"Suppose you get out of here so I can get some sleep?"

"You're going to work on the track tomorrow too?"

"As long as it takes." He began to strip off his trousers. "Good night, Ian."

"I get the feeling I'm being dismissed." Ian rose leisurely to his feet and moved toward the door. "If I can help with anything else, let me know."

"You'd help me deceive that 'poor child'?" Ruel asked mockingly.

"You won't deceive her. You're* a decent man and you're already softening toward the lass," Ian said tranquilly. "But the sooner we get this Kartauk business out | of your system, the sooner we can go home."

"I'm not soft—" Ruel stopped in midsentence as Ian closed the door behind him.

Five minutes later Ruel blew out the oil lamp on the nightstand beside the bed and lay back, staring into the darkness. He should be tired but he was too tense to sleep, and Ian's words hadn't put him in any more gentle mood.

He was not softening toward Jane Barnaby, dammit. The fact that he had a debt to pay complicated matters, but he still had every intention of using her to find Kartauk. After he had accomplished his aim, he would make the decision whether to turn Kartauk over to Abdar or kill the bastard himself and—

Kill Kartauk? The violence of the thought had come out of nowhere. He didn't even know John Kartauk and certainly had no reason to kill him.

But he knew Jane Barnaby cared enough about the son of a bitch to risk her life for him.

And he knew enough to know she had probably taken him for her lover.

The fury the thought brought sent a shock through him.

Lust. Not casual lust but obsessive, overwhelming desire for possession. He had allowed himself to fall into the trap of becoming intrigued and admiring even before his body had responded to her at Zabrie's. Now it was all tied together in some twisted, painful fashion.

He had to rid himself of emotion and think coldly and clearly. There was no reason to let this feeling he had for Jane interfere with his pursuit of Cinnidar. He must keep the two goals entirely separate and find a way to accomplish both of them. She had shown a response to him at Zabrie's, and he would play on that response. He was not unskilled, and if he could show her more pleasure in bed than Kartauk, perhaps—

Jane in bed with Kartauk, writhing beneath him as he plunged in and out of her body . . .

Rage tore through him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. God, what was happening to him? He had never felt jealousy over any woman. Passion had always been a pleasant game to be indulged and then forgotten. Yet now he was in a fever over the thought of a faceless stranger plundering the body of a woman he had never even possessed.

Perhaps he would kill the bastard.

"Colonel Pickering told Ian the maharajah's private railway car is supposed to be quite something to see," Ruel said casually as he helped Jane onto Bedelia. "Will you show it to me?"

She looked at him in surprise. She was nearly stumbling with weariness, and she had not been pounding spikes all day as Ruel had done. Yet he appeared as tough and energetic as when he had started work that morning. "Now? Aren't you tired?"

"I've been more tired." His eyes twinkled as he mounted his horse. "As someone recently told me, if you don't think about it, it goes away. Will you show me the car? The new station is on the way to the bungalow, isn't it?"

"Yes, there are two cars at the station. One is the maharajah's private car and the other is a passenger car for his guests."

"But it's the private car that has the golden door?"

Her gaze flew to his face. "You've heard about the door?"

"I'd have to be deaf not to have heard about the door that's the talk of Kasanpore. You don't run across golden doors every day."

"I guess not." She hesitated. "Wouldn't you rather wait? I received word last night the locomotive is on its way downriver and should be delivered tomorrow afternoon. You could see them both."

"The locomotive doesn't interest me." He raised a brow. "Unless it has a golden boil$r?"

She laughed. "No, though we made sure it has plenty of flash." She paused. "The maharajah will be there and has invited practically everyone in Kasanpore to see it."

"That changes the situation. Will you be able to introduce me to the maharajah?"

She shook her head. "I can't risk annoying him. He's not going to want to concentrate on anything but his new locomotive."

"Too bad. Then I'd rather see the door now, when I have leisure to study it. I have a great fondness for gold in any shape or form."

"I know someone else who feels the same way." Her smile faded. "Actually, I know two people who—" She kicked her horse, and the mare sprang forward. "If you want to see it, let's hurry and get it over with."

The sun had almost gone down by the time they came within sight of the station, but the last weak rays caught the brightly burnished brass adorning the two scarlet railway cars and set them ablaze.

"The maharajah is clearly not a retiring man," Ruel said as he reined in before the station and dismounted. "I imagine all that brass is fairly blinding in full sunlight."

"Yes." She got off Bedelia and followed him across the platform toward the cars. "As I said, he likes a bit of flash."

"And where is this famous golden door?"

She gestured toward the second car.

He moved quickly past the first car and up the four metal steps of the second car. "The sun's almost gone down. I can't see it properly. . . ." He took down the lantern hanging on the hook beside the door, lit it, and held it high. He gazed at the door in silence for a moment. "Magnificent."