Читать книгу The Hostage Bride - Kate Walker - Страница 8

‘JUST what do you think you’re doing?’

Giving into panic was quite the wrong approach, Felicity told herself. Okay, so she had been badly thrown for a minute there, but really there was no need for that. This wasn’t the nightmare it seemed. No, there was simply some mistake, that was all.

‘I said… Oh, can’t you just slow down a bit?’

Had he even heard her? The solid, square set of his back seemed impervious as a brick wall and, with his face turned firmly in the direction they were travelling, his eyes on the road ahead, there was no way she could even read his expression or judge if she was getting through to him.

‘You’re going the wrong way!’

No response. Not even a flicker of a glance in her direction, not a turn of his head. If anything, his grip seemed to tighten on the steering wheel and the car engine roared again as the speedometer needle crept up.

Scrabbling frantically, Felicity managed to inch the glass panel open just a little bit and lean forward with her face close against it, her mouth in the open space.

‘I said, you’re going the wrong way.’

She tried to make the words sound as clear and definite as possible. After all, she was forgetting that he wasn’t English—what was he? Spanish? Perhaps he just didn’t understand what she was saying. Perhaps the few sentences he had spoken had been the full extent of his English, for all that they had been spoken with such apparent ease.

‘Listen to me! You’re…’

Frantically she scrabbled about in her memory for the scattered remnants of the minimal Spanish she had picked up during a holiday there a couple of years ago.

‘V-vaya—el camino malo,’ she managed, knowing it was far from grammatically correct but at least it expressed what she meant.

Unbelievably, that beautifully shaped mouth twitched, twisting into a faint smile of mockery at her stumbling attempt at translation.

‘Voy el camino correcto,’ he shot back at her. Then, confounding her foolish belief that he hadn’t understood a word she had been saying, he added sardonically, ‘I am on precisely the right road. It’s just not the direction you expected to be travelling in today.’

And while she was still gaping in stunned disbelief he added curtly, ‘But wherever we’re going, if you’re sensible you’ll sit back and fasten your safety belt. Right now the way that you’re behaving is not only dangerous, it’s against the law and—’

‘Against the law?’

Felicity couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘Against the law? You—you’re—abducting me—and you’re worried about breaking the law on seat belts? Why, you…!’

With a desperate effort she managed to push the dividing window open just a little bit more and get her hand through, banging her fingers down hard on his shoulder.

‘Stop this car at once! Stop it, I say!’

When he made no response but simply focused his dark-eyed gaze on the road ahead, she resorted to the only thing she could think of to get his attention. Driven past caring for her own safety, she reached up and caught hold of a strand of jet black hair that she could see underneath the uniform cap and pulled hard.

‘Madre de Dios!’

For one frantic, terrifying moment the car swerved violently but a second later he had both himself and the powerful vehicle back under control.

‘Stop that!’ he snarled through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t be so damn stupid, woman! Do you want to kill us both?’

‘Where you’re concerned, don’t tempt me,’ Felicity muttered but already she was having second—and third—thoughts about the wisdom of her actions. The wild movement of the car had thrown her to one side, bruising her arm, and the few seconds of sheer panic she had felt at just the thought of what might have happened if there had been any other traffic on the road was enough to have her hastily rethinking.

She sank back onto her seat, struggling to appear outwardly calm while inside her thoughts were whirling frantically, trying to come up with some possible explanation for what was happening.

Had the chauffeur gone completely mad? What could he possibly hope for as a result of his actions?

‘Look—you…’ she tried again, struggling to force her voice to sound firm and full of a confidence she was far from feeling.

Those dark eyes flicked up swiftly, meeting hers in the rear-view mirror and holding her gaze for the space of a heartbeat before returning to their concentration on the road.

‘My name is Rico,’ he said unexpectedly.

Rico? She’d be a fool to believe that—because he’d be all sorts of an idiot to give her his real name. And one thing she didn’t believe that this Rico was, was a fool. There was too much intelligence in that face, too much natural cunning in the black coffee-coloured gaze he turned on her to merit any such description.

But Rico suited him. It was a rogue’s name, an outlaw’s name. She could just imagine him playing the role of a brigand or a bandit in some wild adventure film.

But this was no film; nor was it, in her opinion at least, any sort of an adventure.

‘Then—Rico—I think you’ve got this all wrong. You’ve made a terrible mistake.’

‘No mistake.’

The flat comment was accompanied by a brusque shake of his head.

‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘But—I think you must have the wrong person.’ It was the only explanation she could come up with.

‘You’re not Felicity Hamilton?’

His sarcasm scraped brutally on already raw nerves.

‘Well, yes, I said I was—but you’ve still got it wrong. I—I’m not rich, you know, and nor is my father.’ She wouldn’t have been forced into marrying Edward if that had been the case.

‘I’m not interested in money.’

‘But then—why…?’

Her voice failed completely, drying to a painful croak as she thought of the only other possible reason there might be for this man to abduct her in this way. Nightmare thoughts filled her head so that she could almost feel the colour leaching from her cheeks, her heart clenching in panic.

‘Stop this car! Stop it at once!’

She had no hope that he would obey her but still it twisted every nerve to see how determinedly he ignored her, the total lack of response he made.

‘I said, stop!’

But even as she spoke a sudden hope flared. They were approaching a particularly tricky bend. The car would have to slow down to manoeuvre round it. If she could just get the door open… Carefully she edged forward, inching her fingers onto the handle.

‘It’s locked.’

The words scythed through her hopes in an instant, cutting them off completely. Once more her gaze went to the mirror, meeting that knowing look with a sense of appalled horror.

‘Central locking,’ he supplied helpfully.

With a gesture he indicated a button on the door at his side.

‘You can’t get out until I let you out.’

It was foolish she knew but just for a second she ignored him. She had to. She couldn’t just give in without a fight.

But no matter how hard she tugged and twisted, the door handle remained stubbornly unmoveable and at last she had to abandon the futile struggle and sit back again.

‘You might as well give up and make it easy on yourself.’

Disturbingly, his voice sounded almost gentle, and he had actually managed to inject into it a faint note of concern—one that she had no doubt at all was in no way sincere.

‘We have a long journey ahead of us and you’ll only cause yourself more distress if you keep this up.’

‘A long journey? Where are we going?’

But her attempt to sound artless and innocent didn’t slip past his defences as she had hoped. Instead it earned her another of those slanting glances, half sardonically amused, half reproachful of the fact that she might think he would believe her.

‘You’ll find out when we get there,’ he tossed over his shoulder. ‘So why don’t you sit back and enjoy the ride?’

‘Enjoying myself is the furthest thing from my mind!’

‘Well, yes…’

He moved his broad shoulders in a shrug that revealed his total indifference to her retort.

‘But you’ll be a lot more comfortable—and safer—if you sit back, fasten your seatbelt and try to relax.’

He was negotiating a roundabout as he spoke and, reading the road signs, Felicity saw that they were heading for the motorway that led away from her hometown and directly to London.

‘You’re taking a risk, aren’t you?’ she said sharply. ‘I can read—and I can see where we’re heading.’

Another indifferent shrug was his only response. Was he really so confident that he didn’t care if she guessed at the route he was taking?

‘Doesn’t that worry you?’

‘Should it?’ he drawled and, as if to emphasise how little he cared, he finally pulled off the peaked chauffeur’s cap and tossed it onto the seat beside him, raking one tanned hand through the sleek darkness of the hair he had revealed. Then glancing up into the mirror again, he grinned widely and wickedly just once, straight into her watchful grey eyes.

Felicity’s heart kicked wildly, banging hard against her ribs and she bit down sharply on her lower lip, trying to hold back the cry of shock that almost escaped her.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair! A man like this Rico—a man who had abducted her for who knew what reasons, who had invaded her life and turned it upside down—should at least look on the outside in some way that revealed the darkness of his inner heart. But in his case it was quite the opposite.

She could only see just one small part of his face reflected in the mirror but even like that, foreshortened and distorted, he had the sort of potent good looks that hit home like a punch right in her stomach.

The smooth olive skin, dark eyes and shining jet black silk of his hair all combined with strongly carved cheekbones, impossibly lush curling eyelashes and that sweetly sensual mouth to create the most forceful blueprint of purely masculine beauty she had ever seen.

She couldn’t drag her eyes away but stared, transfixed, until Rico glanced in her direction once more and caught her stunned gaze. Ashamed at being caught watching him, she looked away sharply, staring down at her hands in pained embarrassment.

‘You really should fasten that seatbelt.’ This time his tone made it plain that she’d do better to obey. ‘We’ll be hitting the motorway traffic soon and, while you might be prepared to put your life on the line by flouting the law, I would prefer that you were sensible.’

I would prefer that you were sensible. Did that mean that whatever his plans for her were they didn’t include actually harming her? She couldn’t tell…but rather than risk any further argument she reached for the seatbelt as instructed and pushed it firmly into the holder, relieved to find that her hands were as steady as she could have wished, betraying nothing of her inner turmoil.

‘Rico what?’ she asked as he turned the car onto the feed road to the motorway, the powerful vehicle increasing speed effortlessly at the slightest touch on the accelerator. ‘I take it you do have a surname?’

‘Just Rico will do.’ His attention was on the road as he indicated, steered skilfully out into the traffic.

‘I can find out, you know. Edward will tell me.’

A sign on the side of the road flashed past as she spoke, barely giving her time to register what was written on it. But, as realisation dawned, sudden inspiration struck, giving her an idea.

‘In fact, I’m surprised you ever thought you’d get away with this,’ she went on, talking to fill the silence, to distract him while she thought back over the scheme that had just occurred to her, considering her options, trying to decide if it would work. ‘You must know I’d report you. That I’d tell Mr Venables.’

She didn’t even know if he’d heard her. Not by so much as a blink of an eyelid did he betray any reaction but remained as silent and stony faced as a statue carved from marble.

‘Even if this is just some sort of practical joke, he won’t stand for this behaviour in one of his employees. You’ll lose your job.’

Something gave him away that time. Some small, sideways slanting look, a flicker of those unbelievable eyelashes. Suddenly the truth dawned on her with an appalling sinking feeling deep in her stomach as if she had just swallowed a heavy, leaden weight.

‘It isn’t a job, is it?’ she asked hollowly. ‘I mean, not your job. You don’t work for Edward Venables, do you?’

‘I’d sooner crawl down this motorway on my hands and knees,’ Rico declared and the brutal vehemence of his tone left her in no doubt that he meant what he said. A cold shiver slithered down her spine at the realisation that what lay behind that forceful declaration was a powerful antipathy that she would have to describe as nothing less than hatred.

‘So this is about Edward, not me?’

And not, it seemed, about her father. Which was a relief because, after all the trouble Joe Hamilton had got himself into lately, at least he hadn’t got himself entangled with this brigand of a man.

‘Does that mean you’re not going to…?’

She couldn’t complete the sentence as another realisation rushed into her head, erasing her earlier train of thought.

‘I have no intention of hurting you, if that’s what you mean,’ Rico put in, misunderstanding the reasons for her silence.

No, but he could ruin her life just as easily without even touching her, Felicity reflected unhappily. If she didn’t turn up at the cathedral or at the very least let Edward know that it wasn’t through her own choice that she wasn’t there, he would wreak his vengeance on her father. Joe’s crimes would be exposed, and she would have put herself through all this for nothing.

And the effect on her mother was one she couldn’t even bear to think about.

The appearance of another roadside sign announcing the approach of the motorway services reminded her of her plan of a few moments earlier. It was now or never.

‘I’m thirsty!’ she announced and the way that her voice cracked on the words gave a conviction to her words. ‘It’s so hot—I really could do with a drink.’

‘If you look in front of you, there’s a cupboard—it’s a small bar, actually. There are some plastic bottles of mineral water in there.’

‘Oh, but—’

This wasn’t at all what she’d had in mind. What she’d wanted was…

‘You didn’t really think I was going to pull in to the services and let you out, did you?’ Infuriatingly, Rico seemed to have been able to read her mind. ‘It’s the water or nothing, sweetheart.’

‘I’m not your sweetheart!’ Felicity growled ungraciously, furious at having been caught out so easily. ‘And I have no intention of drinking anything you’ve provided.’

‘Then you’ll have to stay thirsty,’ Rico returned with cool callousness. ‘I told you I had no intention of harming you.’

‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’

Perversely, her pretence of being thirsty had now become a fact. The sun was beating down on the car and she was uncomfortably aware of the way that for most of the morning her tightly knotted nerves had prevented her from eating or drinking anything but the barest minimum. Just the thought of the cooled water was a temptation she found hard to resist.

‘You could have laced it with anything!’

His sigh was a masterpiece of resigned patience, threaded through with exasperation.

‘I give you my word—’

‘The word of a kidnapper? A brute—a thug?’

In the mirror she saw him roll his eyes, just for a second.

‘How about if I drank some of it myself?’

It was tempting. She really was very thirsty.

He must have seen the doubt in her face, how close she was to weakening, because suddenly he flicked the indicator and moved onto the hard shoulder, slowing the car briefly.

‘Give me the water.’

She could use the bottle as a weapon, Felicity told herself as she opened the bar. She could hit this Rico on the head with it—or shake it hard until the sparkling water was fizzing so wildly that it would explode in his face as soon as he opened it.

But even as the thoughts crossed her mind, she reconsidered them hastily. If she disabled Rico, however briefly, he was still that side of the glass partition and she on the other. The control for the central locking was on his side, and she very much doubted that, even if she opened it to its fullest, she could squeeze through the gap into the front of the car.

And she didn’t dare risk the possible repercussions if she angered him without incapacitating him. He might have given his word not to harm her, but that didn’t mean she was prepared to risk pushing him too far.

‘The water, Felicity.’

Rico had swivelled round in his seat so that he was facing her and a dark strand of warning threaded through his tone.

‘Did I say you could use my Christian name?’ Felicity demanded, knowing she was only being petty, using the complaint as something to hide behind, to disguise the frustration she felt at not being able to get at him in any other way.

‘Señorita Hamilton,’ Rico amended with an elaborate courtesy that only aggravated her already bad mood.

‘Oh, here, take your damn water!’

She thrust the bottle at him ungraciously, trying to avoid the mockery in his dark eyes as she did so.

But not looking into his eyes meant she had to look somewhere and she was horrified by the way that, in spite of her struggle against it, her downbent gaze would keep sliding to the long, tanned line of his throat above the immaculate white collar of his shirt. The movement of his muscles as he tipped back his head, swallowing deeply, held her transfixed and she couldn’t force herself to look away no matter how she tried.

A heat that had nothing to do with the sun outside dried her mouth and throat until they felt like parched sand, her whole body in the grip of a fire that would take so much more than some sips of water to extinguish.

Stop it! she told herself furiously, forcing her eyes shut and screwing them tight. She had to stop thinking this way.

‘Here.’

Rico held the bottle out to her again and she almost snatched it from him. But the realisation of the way that he was observing her, made her pause again and wipe the top of the bottle with over-elaborate care that brought a scowl to his dark face.

Without thinking she gulped down all that was left in the bottle, grateful for the way that it eased the painful dryness that was tormenting her. And as she drank Rico put the car back into gear and rejoined the motorway smoothly, glancing back at her briefly as she sighed her relief.

‘Better?’

‘Much better, thank you.’

It was amazing how much difference just a drink could make. She felt completely refreshed, much more relaxed. The few moments’ pause had given her time to collect herself, gather her thoughts. In fact if she could just work out where they were heading, maybe she could outsmart this man yet.

Buoyed up by the feeling of exhilaration, she lounged back in her seat, concentrating on looking relaxed in the hope of distracting him, making him think she had switched off. Certainly, the terrible feeling of gripping panic seemed to have ebbed just a bit.

‘You’re not very good at this, are you?’ she asked airily. ‘I guess you’ve never done it before.’

‘And you, I take it, are an expert,’ Rico returned dryly, indicating again and moving out into the overtaking lane.

‘Oh, you don’t have to be an expert to know you’ve made a couple of basic mistakes. For one…’

She held up her left hand, checking the points off on her fingers as she made them.

‘You’ve let me find out too much—your name, for example. If in fact that is your real name.’

‘Perhaps I wanted you to know exactly who I am.’

That was something that hadn’t even crossed Felicity’s mind but now that it had, she was forced to consider it, to wonder just why he might want her to know who he was. It didn’t seem at all logical.

‘And you’ve let me see your face,’ she ticked off another point, trying not to let him see how much he had confused her.

‘What did you expect? That I would wear a mask and sweep you off your feet and carry you away over my shoulder? I would think that your so efficient British police might just have noticed if that had happened.’

That, Felicity had to concede, was distinctly possible. What she was having trouble with was the disturbing images flooding into her mind at the thought of being swept off her feet and into Rico’s arms. A swift, shivering glance at the strong, tanned fingers steering the powerful car with skilful ease made her shudder in uncontrollable response. Her body seemed to be growing soft and unexpectedly pliant, lolling against the soft leather almost as if she was melting in the wanton heat of her thoughts.

‘So what else have you decided I’ve done wrong?’ Rico asked. ‘What other mistakes have I made?’

Apart from the most obvious one of finding the woman he had kidnapped—a woman who was promised to someone else—shockingly attractive? he asked himself. If he had known that she was the Felicity Hamilton he had to hold hostage, wouldn’t he have had severe second thoughts about this whole thing?

‘When I think of more, I’ll let you know.’

She had no intention of telling him the latest, major mistake he had made. That of letting her sit up, wide awake and clear-eyed, in the back of the car, watching every road sign that appeared, noting every indication of the route they were taking. They must stop sometime and then, some way, no matter how, she would find a way of getting in touch with her family and letting them know just where she was.

On their right a car sped past, a young woman in the back seat glancing into the Rolls as they did so, and something about the obvious double-take she made, the expression on her face, made Felicity giggle uncontrollably.

‘What is it now?’

‘I’ve just realised what people are seeing…’

The idea seemed crazily amusing, verging on the hilarious and she hastily put up her hands to hold back another fit of the giggles.

‘I mean—what must it look like?’

She shook her head in bemusement, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

‘There’s you—driving off down the motorway—not a church or a chapel anywhere in sight—and me—me—here in the back, all done up in my bridal finery…’

Something about his stillness, the swift glance of those dark eyes up to the mirror to study her closely, made her heart clench on a sudden wave of panic.

What was wrong with her? This man had kidnapped her—abducted her! There was nothing to laugh at, nothing even remotely amusing, about her situation. She should be scared. She was nervous—and yet…

Another attack of the giggles threatened.

‘Thass another mishtake you’ve made. Which is one, two…

Her eyes seemed to have blurred and the finger she tried to count with kept missing the other hand completely.

‘I mean…fancy kidnapping a bride!’

The laughter stopped suddenly, changing to a wide, jaw-cracking yawn. Her eyelids felt heavy and, try as she might, she really couldn’t focus at all. The world was sliding out of balance in the most peculiar way.

‘Lie down, Felicity!’ It was a sharp command from the man in the front of the car. ‘Lie down at once—believe me, you’ll feel much better like that.’

‘Lie…’

Her eyes slid closed; her head drooped like a wilting flower, then abruptly jerked up again. Wide, dazed eyes, their pupils heavy and vastly dark, were turned on him in bitter reproach.

‘What have you done to me?’

‘Go with it, gatita. Don’t try to fight it. It will be easier for you that way.’

Don’t fight it!

Her heart was fluttering frantically like a small, trapped bird beating its wings against a cage. She tried to force her eyes open, managed it just a little but her lids were too heavy.

‘Sleep, little one.’

The low, husky voice was all that she could concentrate on. Blending in with the purr of the car’s engine, it wove a soft smoky spell around her senses.

‘Duerme…’

But she couldn’t sleep. She had to stay awake. She had to…

The effort was too much. With a faint sigh she stopped struggling, slumped back against the seat and slept.

Watching her, Rico clenched his big hands tight over the steering wheel until the knuckles showed white and cursed savagely in his native language.

If there had been any other way… But he had been forced into this—she had forced him into this. She and that fiancé of hers, Edward Venables.

The dark eyes blazed with fury, every muscle clenched taut and he slammed his fist hard against the wheel. Damn Edward Venables! Damn him to hell. Rico already owed that louse for the way he’d treated Maria—and now he owed him for this too. Big time.