Читать книгу The Hostage Bride - Kate Walker - Страница 8

‘MISS Hamilton…Felicity…’

She’d heard that voice before, in her dreams, Felicity thought as she stirred reluctantly. It was the sort of voice that belonged in a dream, low and soft and sexily accented, with a way of turning her name from a simple four-syllable word into a string of poetry just by saying it.

In her dream it had belonged to a fantasy man, too. The sort of man she had never encountered in real life and never would now. Because now she had to wake up. Now she had to face reality, and reality was that today she was obliged to marry Edward Venables. It was either that or see her father go to prison for a long time.

But perhaps she could manage a few moments more in the dream world, she thought, trying to snuggle back down in the bed.

‘Felicity…gatita…wake up.’

She looked like the kitten he had called her, lying there, curled up, soft and sleepy, her head pillowed on her hands, Rico thought unwillingly. She looked delicate and vulnerable in a way that stabbed a knife into his conscience and twisted it hard.

And he couldn’t afford a conscience. Not where she was concerned. Maria’s future, and that of her unborn child, depended on him being strong and dealing with this as he had promised.

‘You can do this for me, can’t you, Rico?’

His half-sister’s voice sounded in the back of his head so clearly that he could almost see her tearstained face before his eyes, feel her hands clutching at his as she pleaded with him.

‘You can see Eddie, tell him he can’t go through with this wedding. That he can’t marry this woman, this Felicity Hamilton…’

She had made it sound so easy, so straightforward. Because to Maria it was straightforward. She wanted this and what she wanted she usually got. But, this time, what Maria wanted had proved unexpectedly difficult to obtain.

Which was why he was here, now, with a half-conscious woman on his hands and a situation that was rapidly running right out of control.

‘Felicity…’

In the back of the car, Felicity Hamilton stirred slightly, frowning faintly, and muttered something in her sleep. The white, soft veil had fallen forward over her face and instinctively he reached forward to move it aside. Then immediately wished he hadn’t.

He doubted if he would ever forget the sense of shock that had hit him straight in the chest when she had appeared outside the house just a few short hours earlier. Whatever else he had been expecting of the Felicity Hamilton described to him by both Maria and the private investigator he had put on the case, it had certainly not been this.

Not this slender, delicate creature whose gentle beauty had knocked him so far off balance that his thought processes had become scrambled. In the end he had only been able to function by forcing himself to concentrate on the plan he had worked out and nothing else.

The picture Maria had painted had been of someone far tougher; someone who knew exactly what she wanted in life and went for it, ignoring anyone who got in the way. Like father, like daughter, she had said. And the detective had been equally damning.

‘She goes straight from work to that nightclub, every night, Mr Valeron. Never home before near dawn.’

But this woman didn’t look anything like the picture he had built up in his mind. Of course, that picture might still be the truth internally; it was just the external appearance that was different. But if that was the case then she had no damn right to be so deceptively lovely—it complicated matters far too much.

‘Señorita…Felicity…’

The voice was back in her dreams, but as she stirred again Felicity found that her bed was nothing like as comfortable as usual. It felt hard and narrow and she was curled up uncomfortably. She was tangled up in something too, something that rustled and confined her, like yards of netting and…

Shock jolted her awake, making her heart slam hard against her ribcage.

This wasn’t a dream. She had fallen asleep and forgotten where she was, but now the reality came rushing back.

‘You!’

Her eyes flew open, wide and dark, the last remnants of the clinging sleep that had enveloped her clearing rapidly as she stared uncertainly up into his face.

‘What did you do to me?’

Crazily, foolishly she actually felt betrayed. He had promised not to harm her and even as the words had left his lying mouth he had been breaking that promise. But what should she have expected from a man who was prepared to commit the crime of kidnapping in order to get his revenge on someone?

‘You drugged me!’

‘The mildest of sedatives only.’

The handsome face revealed no sign of guilt or repentance and the dark chocolate eyes regarded her with cool indifference.

But what had she expected? Pity or concern? She would be all sorts of a blind, deluded fool even to hope for such a thing from this cold-hearted brute.

‘I thought it might help you relax. I had never anticipated that it would have the effect on you that it did.’

No, Felicity thought ruefully. There was no way he could have known that weeks of stress had meant that she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep for an age. Even the weakest sedative would have knocked her for six, she was so tired.

‘I didn’t expect to end up with Sleeping Beauty on my hands.’

He was actually smiling—almost making a joke out of this! If she hadn’t known better, she might actually have thought that he was flirting with her. But she had learned her lesson fast. She would never trust the cold-hearted monster ever again. Even if those deep brown eyes did warm with an unexpectedly soft light, and the beautifully carved mouth looked so kissable when it curved into…

What was she thinking of? Hastily closing off the dangerous route her wayward thoughts had opened up, she switched on a ferocious glare instead.

‘I’m sure you had every move planned with a military precision. But you won’t get away with it, you know!’

‘No?’

One jet-black eyebrow quirked upwards, cynically questioning her furious assertion.

‘You think not?’

‘I know not!’

Felicity struggled up into a half-sitting position, feeling dangerously vulnerable lying down with him looming over her, his face in part shadow where he had blotted out the sun.

‘For one thing, there are laws against such behaviour. And, for another, by now my father will surely have informed the police. You didn’t exactly hide the number of your car and…’

Something about his face, some tiny flicker of response in the depths of those stunning eyes alerted her.

‘What is it?’ she demanded. ‘What have you done?’

But even as the urgent question left her lips the haze of fear and confusion that had clouded her thoughts in the moments of wakening was slowly receding. Her eyes were starting to focus properly, her mind to take in more detailed impressions of her surroundings.

She was still in a car, it was true, still on the back seat of some large, luxurious vehicle. But, now that she looked more closely, she became aware of some very distinct differences between this car and the Rolls Royce in which she had originally fallen asleep.

Where the soft leather of the seat had once been a light fawn, now it was uncompromisingly black. There was no dividing glass panel between her and the seat where the driver—where Rico would have sat. And as she levered herself fully upright at last she saw not the silvery grey metalwork of the original Rolls but the sleek black lines of a very different car altogether.

‘This isn’t your car!’

‘Correction,’ Rico returned imperturbably. ‘This is very definitely my car—my personal property. The Rolls was not. It was the one that Venables hired for you, but it was easy enough to acquire it for my own use. Your original driver was only too pleased to be given the day off, especially when he earned a fat bonus at the same time.’

I just bet he was, Felicity thought, struggling against a swamping wave of misery. The memory of her own foolishness in telling him that his kidnapping hadn’t been the most efficient possible came back to haunt her in horrifying detail. How could she have been so reckless—so crazily stupid? She had even laughed at him, for heaven’s sake!

‘You…’

The black tide of horror made her voice shake and she shrank back against the far door of the car, getting as far away from him as was possible.

‘How—how did you get me from the Rolls into this…?’

The faint smile grew, curving into a wicked, malign grin.

‘Isn’t that obvious, gatita? I carried you.’

Her throat closed up at the thought, her stomach heaving nauseously. The image that her mind threw up of herself in his arms, her body limp and totally at his mercy, her eyes closed, all defences down, made her shudder in appalled distress.

‘How dare you?’

To her relief anger came to her aid, the hot, thick force of it driving her fear before it.

‘How dare you even touch me!’ Her voice rose high and tight and her grey eyes flashed fire in defiance. ‘You had no right! No right at all! If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you!’

To her fury, her reaction only seemed to amuse him, his smile incensing her further.

‘So the kitten has claws,’ he murmured with silky mockery. ‘I can see I shall have to be prepared to defend myself.’

If her rage had been merely an annoying fly, easily flicked away and dismissed, he couldn’t have made his contempt more obvious. The disdain with which he shrugged off her impotent threat had her clenching her hands tight against her thighs, struggling with the impulse to use them on that arrogantly handsome face.

‘Oh, go to hell!’ she spat furiously. ‘Just leave me alone!’

‘Willingly,’ he responded smoothly. ‘But I can’t help thinking that you would be much more comfortable inside. You can’t stay in this car all night. For one thing, I think the weather is about to change.’

A quick glance at the sky confirmed the truth of his words. The brilliant sun of earlier in the day had been eclipsed by gathering clouds, which were growing thicker and darker by the minute. But it was worse than that. Some of the intensity of the sun had also faded, leaving her in no doubt that the evening was drawing in. Just how long had she been unconscious while they were on the road? How far could they possibly have travelled in that time—and to where?

‘And I’m sure you must be getting hungry. If you just come into the house—’

‘No.’

Felicity shook her head firmly, her chin setting stubbornly.

‘I’m not going anywhere with you. You can’t make me.’

His sigh was a blend of exasperation and resignation.

‘Felicity, querida, you cannot stay out here.’

‘I can do whatever I want! And it’s Miss Hamilton to you!’

Damn him, he was laughing at her again, the soft sound of his amusement adding fuel to the fire of indignation blazing inside her.

‘Don’t be foolish, gatita. You must be stiff and uncomfortable, and in need of something to eat and drink. Come with me…’

The appalling thing was that she was tempted. That the strong, tanned hand he held out to her actually looked as if it was proffered in a gesture of friendship, of assistance. But she’d been caught that way once before and she didn’t intend to let it happen all over again.

‘Señorita.’ The edge to his voice revealed how much she was testing his patience. ‘You are not making this easy on either of us. If you would just come inside then we could handle this situation in a much more civilised manner.’

‘I don’t want to make anything easy for you! And, quite frankly, “civilised” in the last word I could ever use to describe you! Nothing on earth could ever induce me to set foot inside that house—’

‘Not even if I promise to let you phone your family?’ Rico inserted smoothly, interrupting the flow of her tirade.

‘Phone?’

Abruptly all the fight left her with the speed of the air being expelled from a punctured balloon, leaving her limp and weak.

‘You’d let me do that?’

The arrogant dark head moved in a swift nod of acquiescence.

‘But only if you come inside.’

His tone was huskily seductive, pure enticement in a silky murmur. It was the voice that the serpent must have used to tempt Eve in the Garden of Eden and Felicity found herself weakening dangerously.

The longing to speak to her parents, to hear a friendly voice in the middle of this nightmare was overwhelming. She had never felt so alone, so lost and anxious—not even on the day that she had discovered precisely how much of a mess her father had made of his life, the dangers he had created for his family.

‘The first thing you can do as soon as you are inside is ring your parents, reassure them that you are well. I’m sure they would be glad to hear from you.’

They would be going out of their minds with worry. Hot tears rushed into Felicity’s eyes at just the thought.

‘You wouldn’t deceive me about this?’

The sheen of moisture in those dove-grey eyes was Rico’s undoing. If there was one thing he had never been able to cope with, it was a woman in tears. Maria had wept all over him when she had found out about Edward Venables’ forthcoming marriage and that was why he was here, now, seeing this woman’s tears threaten and knowing that he was the cause of it.

‘Trust me on this,’ he said huskily.

Once more that big, strong hand was held out to her, and this time, after a moment’s hesitation, she tentatively put her own into it. The way that her fingers disappeared when he folded his around them was almost shocking; the paler skin swallowed up by the tanned power of his grasp.

‘Come, belleza,’ he encouraged. ‘Come with me.’

And slowly, cautiously, she let herself be drawn with him, sliding over the soft leather of the seat. She was almost out of the car when a new idea came to her, flashing into her mind with a force like lightning so that for a second she paused, one foot just reaching out to the ground, wondering if she could possibly risk it.

She had no idea at all where she was. The car was parked at the top of some wide, winding drive, thickly lined with trees. Just a few yards away stood a large, elegant house, the heavy wooden door already open onto a wide, spacious hall. Clearly, Rico had unlocked the door before he had come back to the car to waken her.

The house or the drive? Felicity asked herself, mentally veering backwards and forwards between the two options.

The drive must lead to a road—but how far away—and what was beyond that? And if she ran for the drive, then Rico could simply get into the car and come after her. Hampered as she was by the long skirts of her dress, the delicate satin shoes with their fine, high heels, she doubted if she could manage to run very far or very fast for very long.

But if she could make it to the house then she could slam the door to and hopefully bolt it against him. He had already said that there was a phone in the hall. Even if she only managed to win herself a few free seconds, then surely it would be long enough to ring the police and scream for help? The house was her best bet.

But first she had to disable Rico, at least for a moment or two.

‘Felicity?’

Her hesitation had caught his attention, which gave her the cue she wanted.

‘I—I’m sorry…’ she managed to sound convincingly hesitant. ‘I don’t feel…’

The pretence of faintness, of still feeling the after-effects of the sedative, gave her an excuse to free her hands from his, pressing them to her forehead, hiding her eyes.

‘Are you not well?’

He actually sounded concerned so that she allowed herself a small, secret grin of triumph behind her concealing fingers.

‘Just a little unsteady. If I could just…’

She needed to keep her hands free so, instead of taking his again, she let them rest lightly on his arm, using his strength to support her as she got to her feet.

It was a mistake that almost distracted her from her purpose. In the moment that her fingers closed over the taut, powerful muscle, the hard bone underneath the fine material of his jacket she felt her heart jolt, her breath catching sharply in her throat. An electrical sense of awareness sizzled along every nerve, making her head spin, but this time for real. Rico was so close that the unique scent of him filled her nostrils, warm, potent, musky, totally alien and yet strangely, disturbingly familiar in a way that set her pulse racing hotly.

This time her unsteadiness wasn’t totally feigned as she slid out of the car and slowly stood upright, using his strength as her support. She didn’t dare to look up at him, fearful that those dark, probing eyes might be able to read her feelings in her face and recognise her response for the lightning bolt of white-hot sexual awareness that it was.

‘Lean on me, if you like.’

Lean on him? Felicity thought on a wave of near hysteria. If only he knew just how she longed to do just that! How her hot, throbbing, dangerously aroused body yearned to throw itself towards him, to rest against the hard wall of his chest, feel those powerful arms come round her.

No! She couldn’t afford even to let herself think of such things or she would waver in her purpose, forget what she had planned. She had to act now or it would be too late.

‘I…’ she began, her voice convincingly low and weak.

‘Si?’

As she had hoped, he bent his dark head towards her, in order to hear better. It was now or never.

White teeth digging into her lower lip in concentrated determination, she brought her right arm up and out, elbow bent sharply, aimed straight at that square, determined jaw. In the same moment that it connected with the hard strength of bone, jerking his head back, she launched a wild kick at his nearest ankle, allowing herself a faint smile of pleasure as she heard his muffled grunt of pain. For just a split second she was free and she took full advantage of the moment, hitching up her white silk skirts and sprinting for the door.

She only managed to get a few feet before a hard hand closed over her shoulder, pulling her back. An arm snaked round her waist, clamping tight around her slender frame, and, kicking and struggling, she was lifted bodily from the ground.

‘Oh, no you don’t, señorita!’

Rico had been anticipating the escape attempt. It was quite shocking to realise just how well he had come to know her, even on such a short acquaintance. But just the brief exchanges—he could hardly call them conversations—as they had had on the journey here, had taught him so much about the way her mind worked. He hadn’t expected that she would have so much spirit. That she would be prepared to take him on quite as openly as she had. But he’d observed and learned and as a result he had had a good idea of what was coming.

It was that tiny grin that had given her away. A smile that she had thought he couldn’t see but which had put a light into her eyes that warned him she was up to something. So he had been ready for the moment she attacked, anticipating the movement of her arm, ready to dodge the full force of it. The vicious little kick to his ankle was more of a surprise, but he soon recovered from that.

‘You don’t get away from me that easily!’

‘Let me go!’

She tried to fight; tried to kick out at him again but the long skirts of her dress hampered her and the whirling veil covered her face, half-blinding her.

‘Careful, belleza…’ It came out unevenly as he fought to adjust his grip on her, trying to hold her more securely. ‘You’ll have us both on the ground.’

‘Do you think I care?’

Furiously she writhed against his restraining hands until the only thing he could do was lift her higher, his arm going round her waist, the other supporting her legs, her head against his shoulder.

‘Now perhaps you’ll do as you’re told!’ he flung at her, clamping down hard on the sudden blaze of anger that had flared inside him, making him want to shake her roughly, drive some sense into her.

But even as he spoke Felicity moved, her arms coming out in an automatic, instinctive movement to close around his neck in order to make herself more secure. Her action brought a faint rush of perfume to tantalise his senses.

The fragrance of rose and lily was fresh and sweet, but it was what came with it that delivered the real kick, awakening everything that was truly male and sexual within him. The clean, delicate, and yet potently erotic scent of this woman’s skin and hair, the feel of her warm, soft curves in his arms made his body tighten in hunger and respond with fierce arousal all between one blink and another.

And as Felicity’s head went back against his shoulder and eyes the colour of an autumn mist met his own sensually darkened gaze, Rico knew that he had just made one of the worst mistakes of his life.