Читать книгу Hostage Of The Hawk - Сандра Мартон, Sandra Marton - Страница 6

EVERYONE Joanna knew had had the same reaction to the news that she was going to Casablanca.

‘Oh,’ they’d sighed, ‘how incredibly romantic!’

Joanna, remembering the wonderful old Humphrey Bogart-Ingrid Bergman movie, had thought so too. But after a week she’d decided that things must have changed a lot since the days of Rick and Ilse. Casablanca was ancient and filled with history, it was beautiful and mysterious, but it was also the economic heart of Morocco which meant that in some ways it was not only prosaic, it was downright dull.

The man beside her, though, was quite another story. She gave him a surreptitious glance from beneath her lashes. There was nothing dull about him. She’d never met a man like him before, which was saying a great deal. The circles in which she travelled had more than their fair share of handsome, interesting men but even in those circles, this man would stand out.

Joanna’s gaze flew over him, taking in the stern profile, the broad sweep of his shoulders, the well-groomed hands resting lightly on the steering wheel. He seemed so urbane, this Mr Hassan, so at home in his well-tailored suit, his pricey car, and yet she could easily imagine him in a very different setting.

Her lashes drooped a little. Yes, she thought, she could see him in her mind’s eye, dressed in long, flowing robes, mounted on a prancing black stallion, racing the wind across the desert under a full moon.

‘You’re so quiet, Miss Bennett.’

Joanna’s eyes flew open. They had stopped at a light and he was looking at her, a little smile on his lips. For some reason, the thought that he’d been watching her without her knowing made her uncomfortable. She sat up straighter, smoothed her hair back from her face, and gave him a polite smile in return.

‘I was just enjoying our drive,’ she said.

She glanced out of the window as the car started forward. They were passing the Place des Nations Unies, deserted at this hour except for a solitary pair of strollers, a man and woman dressed in traditional garb, she walking barely noticeable inches behind. Like a respectful servant, Joanna thought with a grimace, or a well-trained dog...

‘She is not being obedient, Miss Bennett,’ the man beside her said, ‘she’s simply gawking at the sights.’

Joanna swung towards him. He was looking straight ahead, intent on the road.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘That couple.’ He glanced at her, an insolent smile curled across his mouth. ‘You were thinking the wife was following her husband out of custom, but I assure you, she wasn’t.’

He was right, but what did that matter? Joanna gave him a frigid look.

‘Do you make a habit of reading people’s thoughts, Mr Hassan?’

‘It isn’t difficult to read yours. You seem convinced we classify our women as property in this part of the world.’

She smiled tightly. ‘Your definition, not mine.’

He laughed. ‘A diplomatic response, Joanna—but then, your father would not have sent you on such a delicate mission if he hadn’t been certain of your ability to handle yourself well.’

Some of the tension flowed from Joanna’s posture. He was right. This had been a delicate mission, and she’d carried it off successfully. Let the Hassans and Khalils of this world have their baksheesh and bribes. What did it matter to her? She’d set out to snatch success from the jaws of defeat and she’d done it, despite the arrogant high-handedness of the man next to her.

‘You’re quite right,’ she said pleasantly, folding her hands neatly in her lap and watching as the dimly lit streets spun by, ‘he wouldn’t have.’

‘He has no sons?’

‘No.’ Her smile grew saccharine sweet. ‘I know you must think that makes him quite unfortunate, but—’

‘I suspect it simply makes him all the fonder of you.’ He glanced at her, then looked back to the road. ‘You must be very important to Sam Bennett, not only as vice-president of Bennettco but as the jewel of his heart.’

Joanna looked at him. She was neither, she thought with a little pang, not the vice-president of Bennettco nor even the jewel of her father’s heart. It was Bennettco itself that was his love, it always had been, but now that she’d pulled this off...

‘Am I right, Joanna?’

She swallowed. ‘Yes,’ she said quickly, ‘I’m as important to him as you are to Prince Khalil.’

His head swung towards her. ‘As I...?’

‘I mean, you must be very important to Khalil, for him to entrust you with negotiating such important matters.’

‘Ah.’ He smiled. ‘Of course. You are wondering if my word is Khalil’s bond.’

‘No. I wasn’t. It never occurred to me to doubt—’

‘I promise you, he will abide by my judgement.’ He looked towards her, and suddenly his smile fled. ‘I will not repudiate anything I do this night.’

Joanna’s brows rose a bit. ‘I’m sure you won’t,’ she said politely.

The man wasn’t just arrogant, he was contemptuous as well. ‘I will not repudiate anything I do this night‘! It was almost laughable. How could he say that when he was only the Prince’s minister?

Khalil would be even worse, Joanna thought with a sigh, rigid and imperious and completely egotistical. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t agreed to meet with her. As it was, she’d had difficulty holding her temper with Hassan. Heaven only knew how she’d have been able to deal with someone even ruder.

But she didn’t have to worry about that any more, she thought, permitting herself a little smile. She’d done the impossible, pulled the coup that would set her firmly on a path she’d always wanted, and if she’d have been happier managing it without pushing a bribe under Hassan’s nose, well, so what? If that was how things were done here, who was she to ask questions? She had succeeded, and now she and Hassan were going to drink a toast to their agreement.

Joanna settled back in her seat. Where was he taking her, anyway? Somewhere far from the streets she knew, that was obvious. In fact, they’d left the streets behind completely. The car was racing along a straight, narrow road that disappeared into the night.

Perhaps he was taking her to some place less Western than the restaurant where they’d dined. Perhaps, for all his seeming urbanity, he’d been uncomfortable in its sophisticated setting.

‘You’ve become quiet again, Joanna.’ Hassan stepped down harder on the accelerator and the car seemed to leap forward. ‘Have you nothing to say, now that you’ve got what you wanted from me?’

His tone was nonchalant but Joanna sensed the underlying derision in his words. She shifted into the corner of her seat and smiled politely.

‘I think we’ve each gotten something from the other,’ she said.

‘Of course. You have my promise of co-operation and I—’ He looked at her, his teeth showing in a swift smile. ‘I have the bribe you offered me for it.’

It was what she had just been thinking but hearing it from the man on the receiving end made it different. Surely people who demanded you buy them off didn’t go around admitting it, did they? And, just as surely, they didn’t make it sound as if you were the one who’d done something vile—yet that was what his tone had clearly suggested.

Joanna caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Was he still smarting over the clumsy way she’d handled the bribe offer? She knew she hadn’t done it with any subtlety, that she’d come within a breath of insulting him, something that was not done anywhere but especially not in this part of the world.

‘Everyone benefits,’ he said softly. ‘Khalil is bought off, Bennettco turns a handsome profit—and Abu Al Zouad grows fatter.’ He looked at her, his eyes unreadable in the darkness. ‘All in all, a fine arrangement, yes?’

Joanna shifted uneasily. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I don’t know what it is between your Prince and the Sultan, but—’

‘Everyone benefits,’ he said again, his tone hardening. ‘Everyone—except my people.’

As if he or his mighty Prince really gave a damn, she thought angrily. But she bit back the words and offered ones that were only slightly more diplomatic instead.

‘It’s too late to have second thoughts, Mr Hassan. You gave me your word—’

‘If you intend to speak to me of honour,’ he said coldly, ‘you are wasting your time.’

Their eyes met and held. All at once, Joanna wished she were anywhere but here, in this fast car tearing through the darkness to some unknown destination.

‘I was only going to point out that we agreed on—’

‘What would you have done if I’d turned down your bribe money?’

‘Listen, Mr Hassan, if you’ve a problem with Prince Khalil’s accepting money...’ Joanna clamped her lips together. What was needed here was a touch of diplomacy, not anger. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that you were—that you should...’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not my place to make judgements, but—’

‘Of course it is. You and your estimable father both make judgements. You judged Abu Al Zouad worthy of Bennettco’s largesse, you judged Prince Khalil a man to be easily bought off—’

‘Easily?’ His supercilious tone made Joanna bristle and she spoke sharply, before she could stop herself. ‘Who are you kidding? I know how much is waiting for him in that Swiss bank account, remember?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Wait a minute. Is that what this is all about? Are you going to try and hold us up for more?’

‘And what if I did? You’d pay it. You’d pay whatever you must to get what you want.’ He shot her a look so deadly she pressed back in her seat. ‘That’s how people like you do things. Don’t waste your breath denying it!’

Joanna stared at him. What was happening here? A little while ago, he’d been all silken cordiality, and now he was treating her with an abrasive scorn that bordered on insult. He was scaring her, too, although she’d be damned if she’d ever let him know it. Well, not scaring her, exactly, that was too strong a word, but it was hard not to wish they were still seated in the civilised environs of the Oasis Restaurant.

Was that why he’d dragged her to the middle of nowhere—so he could insult her? That was certainly how it seemed. Even if he hadn’t, even if he’d been deadly serious about taking her somewhere for a glass of champagne, she had absolutely no interest in it now. All she wanted was for him to turn the car around and take her back to the city, to lights and traffic and people.

‘I’ve changed my mind about having champagne,’ she said, swinging towards him. She waited for him to answer but he didn’t. After a moment, she cleared her throat. ‘Mr Hassan?’

‘I heard you. You’ve changed your mind about drinking with me.’

‘No, I mean, it’s not that. I just—I—um—I misjudged the time earlier.’ Damn! Why was she offering an explanation? ‘Please turn the car around.’

‘I can’t do that.’

Can’t? Can’t? Joanna stared at him. ‘Why not?’

‘We are expected,’ he said.

‘You mean, you made a reservation? Well, I can’t help—’

He swung to face her suddenly, and even in the shadowy interior of the car, she could see the sharp anger etched into his face.

‘The sound of your voice annoys me,’ he said coldly. ‘Sit back, and be silent!’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘What?’ she said. ‘What?’ She stared at him, waiting for him to say something, to apologise or offer some sort of explanation, but he didn’t. ‘That’s it,’ she snapped. ‘Dammit, Mr Hassan, that’s the final straw!’

‘I don’t like women to use vulgarities.’

‘And I don’t like men to behave like bullies! I’m telling you for the last time, turn this car around and take me back to Casablanca!’

He laughed in a way that made her heart leap into her throat.

‘Is that a threat, Miss Bennett?’

‘My father will be expecting me. If I’m not at the hotel soon—’

‘How charming. Does he always wait up for your return at night?’

Her eyes flew to his face. What was that she heard in his voice? Disdain? Or was it something more?

‘He’ll be waiting to hear how our evening went,’ she said quickly. ‘And unless you want me to tell him that you—’

‘Why would he do that?’ He gave her a quick, terrible smile. ‘Was there ever any doubt of your success?’

‘Of course. There’s always a chance of a slip-up when—’

‘How could there have been a slip-up, once he put you in charge of dealing with the bandit Khalil?’ The awful smile came again, clicking on, then off, like a light bulb. ‘Surely he expected you’d get the agreement for him, one way or another.’

Joanna clasped her hands together in her lap. Something was happening here, something that was beyond her understanding. All she knew was that she didn’t like it.

‘If you’re suggesting my father doesn’t have every confidence in me,’ she began, but the man beside her cut her short.

‘Confidence?’ The sound of his laughter was sharp. ‘In what? You’re no more a vice-president at Bennettco than that woman we passed in the street a while ago.’

‘Of course I am!’

‘What you are,’ he snapped, ‘is an empty-headed creature who knows nothing more important than the latest gossip!’

Colour rushed into Joanna’s cheeks. ‘How dare you?’

‘What is the name of your secretary at Bennettco?’

‘I don’t have to answer your questions!’

‘Do you even have an office there?’ he demanded.

She swallowed. ‘Not yet,’ she said finally, ‘but—’

‘You are nothing,’ he snarled, ‘nothing! Your father insults me by sending you to me.’

‘You’ve got this all wrong,’ Joanna said quickly. ‘I am his confidante. And his vice-president—well, I will be, when—’

‘What you are,’ he said grimly, ‘is a Jezebel.’

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open. ‘What?’

‘I knew Bennett was desperate to hold on to his contract with that pig, Abu Al Zouad.’ His eyes shot to her face. ‘But even I never dreamed he’d offer up his daughter to get it!’

‘Are you crazy? I told you, my father is ill. That’s why he sent me to meet with you!’

‘He sent you to do whatever had to be done to ensure success.’ He threw her a look of such fury that Joanna felt herself blanch. ‘If Khalil wouldn’t accept one sort of bribe, surely he’d accept another.’

She felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Are you saying my father...are you saying you think that I...?’ She sprang towards him across the console and slammed her fist into his shoulder. ‘You—you contemptible son of a bitch! I’d sooner sleep with a—a camel than—’

She cried out as the car swerved. The tyres squealed as they clawed at the verge; the brakes protested as he jammed them on, and then he swung towards her, his eyes filled with loathing.

‘But it would be like sleeping with a camel, wouldn’t it, Miss Bennett? Sleeping with a man like Khalil, I mean.’

‘If you touch me,’ Joanna said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, ‘if you so much as put a finger on me, so help me, I’ll—’

‘You’ll what?’ His lips drew back from his teeth. ‘Scream? Go right ahead, then. Scream. Scream until you can’t scream any more. Who do you think will hear you?’

God. Oh, God! He was right. She looked around her wildly. There was darkness everywhere—everywhere except for his face, looming over hers, his eyes glinting with anger, his mouth hard and narrowed with scorn.

‘My father,’ she said hoarsely. ‘My father will—’

‘The scorpion of the desert is a greater worry to me than is your father.’

‘Surely we can behave like civilised human beings and—?’

He laughed in her face. ‘How can we, when I am the emissary of a savage?’

‘I never said that!’

‘No. You never did. But you surely thought it. What else would a greedy, tyrannical bandit be if not a savage?’ His mouth thinned. ‘But I ask you, who is the savage, Miss Bennett, the Hawk of the North—or a father who would offer his daughter to get what he wants?’

He caught her wrist as her hand flew towards his face. ‘I’ve had enough, you—you self-centred son of a bitch! My father would no more—’

His face twisted. ‘Perhaps I should have let it happen.’ He leaned towards her, forcing her back in her seat. ‘Maybe it wasn’t your father who suggested you make this great sacrifice. Maybe it was you who wanted to share Khalil’s bed—or did you think it would be sufficient to share mine?’

‘I’d sooner die,’ Joanna said, her voice rising unsteadily while she struggled uselessly to shove him off her. ‘I swear, I’d sooner—’

His lips drew back from his teeth in a humourless smile. ‘Just think what erotic delights a savage like me might have taught you. Enough, perhaps, to keep your useless New York friends tittering for an entire season!’

‘You’re disgusting! You—you make me sick to my stomach!’

His mouth dropped to hers like a stone, crushing the words on her lips. She struggled wildly, beating her free hand against his shoulder, trying to twist her face from his, but it was useless. He was all hard sinew and taut muscle that nothing would deter.

After a moment, he drew back.

‘What’s the matter?’ he said coldly. ‘Have you changed your mind about adding a little sweetening to Bennettco’s bribe offer?’

Hatred darkened Joanna’s eyes. ‘What a fool I was to think I could deal with you in a civilised manner! You’re just like your Prince, aren’t you? When you can’t get what you want, you just—you reach out and grab it!’

‘What if I said you were wrong, Miss Bennett? What if I told you that I am not a man who takes?’

Anger made her reckless. ‘I’d call you a liar,’ she snapped.

To her surprise, he laughed. ‘Which of us is the liar, Joanna? Or are you suggesting I not take what you are prepared to give?’

The look she gave him was pure defiance. ‘I offered you nothing.’

For a long moment, their eyes held. Then he smiled, and the smile sent her heart into her throat.

‘I never take that which has not been offered,’ he said, very softly.

She cried out as he reached for her again but there was no way to escape him. He caught her face between his hands, holding it immobile, and bent his head to hers. She stiffened, holding her breath, preparing instinctively for the fury of his kiss, for whatever ugly show of strength and power lay ahead.

But there was no way to prepare for the reality of what happened. His lips were soft, moving against hers with slow persuasion, seeking response.

Not that it mattered. It was a useless effort. She would never, could never, respond to a man like him, a man who believed he could first terrorise a woman, then seduce her. His hands spread over her cheeks, his thumbs gliding slowly across the high arc of her cheekbones. His fingers threaded into her hair, slowly angling her head back so that his lips could descend upon hers again—and all at once, to Joanna’s horror, something dark and primitive stirred deep within her soul, an excitement that made her pulse leap.