Читать книгу Modern Romance January Books 1-4 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 15

IT WAS THE screams that woke him up. Then at first, he was convinced that he was dreaming. Dreaming of that day that was buried back in his mind, so deep, so far, that his waking consciousness would never dare dredge it up. But in his dreams...his dreams were all women and horses screaming.

But it took only a few moments for him to realize that it wasn’t screaming in his head. But in reality.

And he had one thought, only one thought, that the screams were coming from Liliana.

He tore himself out of bed and ran across the house, feeling a jumble of emotions, mixed memories combined with the reality of what was happening. Of course he should never have brought a woman here. Not one so delicate as she was.

Of course he should have known that the curse of the Navarro men—or rather, the women that they took as their own—would come to pass.

Ridiculous. She was having a nightmare, or, she had seen a spider. Something easily explainable. He was telling himself that as he made his way down the hall. But then he heard the screams of his housekeeper, and that was when true fear overtook him.

Heart raging, sweat beading on his back, he raced to Liliana’s room, only to discover that the door was flung open wide, as was the window, her lacy curtains blowing in the breeze. They were three floors up.

Surely, if Liliana wasn’t happy she wouldn’t resort to flinging herself out a window to escape him. All she would’ve had to do was ask.

That absurd thought wormed its way into his mind as he ran to the window and looked down below, half expecting to see her inert, white nightgown-clad form crumpled in the grass. But she was not there.

He looked across the broad expanse of lawn and saw her. That white, flowing figure—her nightgown and her pale blond hair—whipping in the breeze. But she was not alone. There was a black shadow that seemed to be consuming her, holding her fast.

Diego.

He knew it. Deep in his bones, he knew. His brother had stolen his bride.

And then, just like that, they were gone. Disappeared completely. Diego had Liliana.

He issued orders to his staff in rapid-fire Spanish, and only after a few moments did he see the boy standing there in the hall, his eyes wide, fear etched over his youthful face.

“Go back to bed,” he commanded.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Liliana has been taken,” he responded, not seeing any point in being dishonest.

The boy swore. “By who?”

“By my brother.”

Camilla still wasn’t allowed to go back to work because of her injury, and that meant that she was currently tied to the house, wandering the halls and feeling far too conspicuous.

But if anyone had been even close to looking at her before, they were not doing so now. Everyone was consumed with the search for Liliana Hart, who had been—it appeared—kidnapped out of her bedroom window by Matías’s older brother.

Diego Navarro.

And as that search waged on, Camilla had far too much time to simply sit and think. To wonder about the manner of man Diego was, and to attempt to piece it together with what kind of information she had gotten from the doctor. About what kind of man Matías’s father had been.

The old doctor had said that Matías had been injured by his father, and he had spoken of it as though it had been routine. Camilla could scarcely wrap her mind around that. Around such horror.

She tried to remember if she had ever heard anything about Matías’s father, but she couldn’t remember, as all of those rumors were obscured by those about his brother. People did talk about Diego. About how his pregnant wife had died, and how the circumstances had all seemed quite suspicious.

But of course, all of this had been done under the guise of saying prayers for the family, careful bits of gossip wrapped in concern.

Matías, for all that he had a reputation of being hard, also had a reputation for being good.

She had the feeling that none of the other Navarro men held such a claim.

She heard footsteps and scampered deeper into the library, where she was currently attempting to waste some hours. She settled into an armchair near the fireplace, grateful that the only light in the room came from the flames there and a small lamp positioned across the room.

Then she heard voices outside the door.

“Any word at all?” It was Matías’s voice.

“None,” came an unfamiliar response. “The grounds were searched thoroughly, but somehow, they seemed to have disappeared by the time we got to where the car was abandoned.”

Matías let out a derisive snort. “I imagine, knowing my brother, a helicopter was involved.”

Camilla raised her brows, putting her hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound that might give her away.

“You are certain it was your brother?”

“Oh, I am certain. There is little I would put beyond his boundaries.”

“I am sorry,” the other man said. “But if they are not in Spain any longer there isn’t much we can do. We have no leads.”

“And my brother has not resurfaced anywhere else in Europe yet,” Matías said. “I’ve been keeping watch on his various haunts. Or rather, having certain people in my employ do so. Diego seems to have gone underground.”

“We will do our very best. He will not be able to come back into the country without us knowing. That is certain.”

She heard footsteps, then she heard Matías muttering about the fact that he had likely gained entry into the country without their knowing this time. She could see that he had little confidence in law enforcement at the moment.

The door opened a crack, and Camilla sank farther back into the armchair, wishing that there was something she could hide behind. She didn’t want to be alone in a room with Matías again. It had been confronting enough when she had been lying there with a head injury. At least then he had been concerned for her well-being and had likely only been looking at her to figure out how injured she was.

She just didn’t want to encourage any more moments where he saw her clean, where he saw her in a domestic setting, without the sun in his eyes. Anything that might reveal her to him.

Plus, there was the simple fact that whenever she was in a room with him he made it feel so much smaller. And somehow he felt large. Something about that magnetism filling her chest, making her feel hollow, all at the same time.

She felt aches in places she was not normally conscious of, aches that she didn’t know a remedy for.

He made her aware that she was a woman. Much more aware than she had ever been in her life, and certainly more aware than she wanted to be when trying to pass for a boy.

“Cam,” Matías said, “I didn’t expect anyone to be in here.”

“Sorry,” she said, starting to stand. “I can go somewhere else.”

He waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I am sorry,” she said, “about Liliana.”

She was sorry. Sorry that the other woman had been taken, that she was likely afraid. No matter what Matías said she supposed it was entirely possible that Diego actually was a killer, in which case Liliana might be in actual danger.

But in many ways she wasn’t actually sorry that the other woman was gone. Which was awful. Except that he made her feel funny. Made her feel light-headed. Made her bones feel heavy.

“So am I,” he said, his tone fierce. “I must find her. There is no other option.”

“You will,” she said, “of course.” She knew that it was an unearned confidence, but it was clearly what he needed to hear. She wanted to tell him what he needed to hear. Wanted to make that arrogant mouth curve up into a smile again. Wanted his dark eyes to look at her with approval. Even if it could never be the kind of approval or appreciation that part of her seemed to crave.

It was such a strange thing. Being caught between the urge to avoid him and to seek him out. To build a connection between the two of them and to keep their interactions limited. She wasn’t sure that she would ever understand what she wanted from him.

“I’m certain this has to do with the estate. I should have known that if Diego had no intention of complying he would ensure that I could not.”

“Surely your grandfather will...”

He shook his head. “My grandfather is not a nice man. You must understand...the men in my family believe in taking what they want without asking. I am from a long line of villains, Cam.” He smiled, a dark, feral smile, highlighted by the flames in the fire. “No matter that I’ve tried to aim for something better. My grandfather doesn’t care about scruples. I’m not sure that he will be impressed with my story. In fact, I suspect that he will take Diego’s side. A man must take what he can. If he must take the rancho this way, I assume my abuelo will find this a creative solution.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” she said.

“Because you do not know my family. Truthfully,” he said, “I should have seen this coming. Historically, women who marry Navarro men never come out of it well.”

“You’re speaking of your sister-in-law?”

He looked at her, clearly trying to decide how much to say. And then he surprised her by taking a seat. His large hands gripped the ends of the armrests, and she found herself fascinated by them. By their strength, their sheer masculinity. She had been around men all of her life, and yet somehow he was something separate. A different kind of creature. So much more than anyone else had ever been.

“I am speaking of my sister-in-law,” he said, pausing for a moment. “And my mother.” He shifted in his chair, those powerful legs spread wide. There was something gripping about that posture. It was casual, nearly lazy, and yet she knew that at a moment’s notice he could spring into action. All of that leashed strength.

To say nothing of how boldly masculine it was. The way he spread his legs as if to draw attention to...

She blinked. There was no way she was looking there. She just wouldn’t.

“My grandfather,” he continued, his voice bringing her back into the present. Bringing her back to sanity. “Is...an eccentric. But my father... He had a dark soul. Always. If he was ever any different I certainly didn’t know him to be. He was violent. He had periods of extended rage. He could never be pleased. And he took all of that out on Diego and myself. And our mother. Always our mother. Who was so pretty and delicate, a Spanish rose. She was miserable. All the years until she died. Until she fell off a horse and broke her neck.” His eyes were blank, horribly flat and black, and she had a feeling that he was leaving out part of the story.

But she also knew that he was only saying these things for his own benefit. Here in the near dark library to a boy who didn’t matter.

She was no one. He might as well be speaking to a mirror. And she understood that. At the moment she was grateful she could fulfill that for him.

She heard a buzzing sound, and then he reached for his pocket. He lifted his phone and frowned.

He answered it. “Hello?”

“Matías?” It was a woman’s voice, clearly audible in the relative silence of the room, and Camilla recognized the American accent immediately. “I’m so glad that I reached you.”

“Liliana? Where are you? Where has he taken you?”

“I can’t say,” came the reply, stilted, robotic.

“Why? Because you don’t know? Are you injured?” He issued the questions rapid-fire.

“I’m not injured. I’m perfectly safe. In fact, I need for you to stop looking for me.” The words were thick-sounding, sad. “I didn’t mean to deceive you, and I never meant to hurt you in any way. But I cannot marry you because Diego is the man I really want. I left with him of my own free will. The only reason that I screamed is because he startled me. But it was always my intention to waste your time and make it difficult for you to complete your task, and then marry him. I was not kidnapped. You don’t need to look for me.”

“Liliana...”

“It’s okay, Matías. Truly. I regret my behavior, but there is nothing to be done. Diego and I have already married. And that means... You know what that means. All of it will be his. If you fail to marry, then all of it will be his. It’s too late. We have paperwork. Everything is legally binding. We’re married. It’s too late.”

“Liliana...”

And then the phone line went dead, and Matías was left there glaring ferociously at the phone in his hand as if it were a snake.

“You can’t possibly believe her,” Camilla said. “She sounds as if she’s in distress.”

“She has married him,” Matías said, the words falling heavily in the room. “My brother is a terrible villain, but what he is not is a monster. And what he is not capable of doing is forcing someone to say vows. Even he would not hold a gun to her head.”

“He kidnapped her out of her bedroom window.”

“Or not. If she is to be believed she went with him of her own volition.” He threw his phone down onto the coffee table, the light from the fireplace reflecting off the planes and angles of his face. “I was fooled. I thought that my brother would fade into his own dissolute lifestyle. That he would not attempt to please my grandfather. But I was looking at it through my own eyes. I was going to engage in a real marriage. My brother would think nothing of taking a wife simply to fulfill the terms of the will. A wife he will probably casually discard in the end.”

“But you were marrying her because of the will, weren’t you?” she asked. She didn’t know why she was asking that. Matías clearly cared about Liliana. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be so distressed. And something about that galled her. But she hoped that he didn’t love her. Which was small, and terrible, and she had no right to think such a thing.

“But I intended to make it real,” he said. “I’m not a man given to love. You must realize that. Or perhaps, at your age you do not. Love was never part of the equation for me. But a wife, children, all of that I would have. Why not?” He shook his head. “It was all too easy, and that I should have realized.”

“How long do you have?”

“Only a couple of weeks,” he responded. “Diego is smart. Because by whatever means he accomplished it, he has married her.”

“Perhaps he hasn’t. Maybe all of it’s a lie.”

“No. He would have no reason to lie about that. Because he would know that it would only spur me into action. Better to keep quiet if he hadn’t made arrangements to marry her.”

For some reason, she didn’t know what she was thinking, she reached out across the space between them and touched the top of his hand. And then she drew back as though she had been burned.

Scrambling out of her chair, she stepped toward the fireplace, trying to move herself into the darkness, as if that response wouldn’t make all of this even more out of the ordinary.

That he wouldn’t see the effect he had had on her. That was the last thing she needed. To introduce something so horrific into the equation. He was coping with the fact that his fiancée had been taken by another man—whether by force or by seduction, she felt at this point either was devastating—and eventually they would have a horse to train, to make it to the races.

If she ruined it now by being so stupid...

“Dios mio,” he said, his voice harsh.

She looked over at him, and his face was frozen, a mask of rage, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight.

He stood, gripping her by the arms and drawing her close. “What is your part in this? All this time... Were you a part of this treachery that was committed against me?”