Hostage to Love (Entangled Suspense) (10 page)

She sucked in a breath and straightened her spine. “Nothing. Nothing at all. But I’d prefer it if you consult me in future before making plans on my behalf.”

After dealing her a narrow-eyed glance, he nodded. “Agreed.”

His easy capitulation fired up her suspicions. “Why are you being so agreeable?”

He looked away, his restless gaze drifting over the pool, the gardens, and the distant horizon. As if he were searching for answers.

“Nick?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he blurted.

“What sort of proposition?”

“A truce for the next, say, seven days? You need R and R. Your health is the priority, and I don’t want that jeopardized. Everything else can wait.”

“What happens after the seven days?”

“We have that talk you’re dying to have. Or we have wild, no-holds-barred sex.”

He laughed ruefully when her forked clattered onto her plate. “There was a time when the idea of sex with me didn’t make you look so horrified.”

“I’m not. I just— Why a truce?”

“I don’t want us to keep fighting. Every good businessman or combat soldier knows when to retreat and regroup. So seven days on Althea while you recover. Agreed?” he coaxed.

With a hard swallow, Belle opened her mouth, but her consent stalled in her throat.

Here was her chance to put her long months of reclaiming her life to the test. Could she stand to be alone here with him on his secluded island? Could she cope with being with him day in and day out if he chose to remain here with her?

She cast her eyes over the beautiful garden and flowers. The breeze carried the mingled, heady scents of lemon, jasmine, and eucalyptus. The low hum of the waves hitting the beach lent the island an even more seductive air, and she knew in this, Nick was right.

“So you’re saying I can ask to return to England if I choose, or I can stay here? No pressure either way?” The idea of letting this magical place soothe her, make her stronger for when she took her life back, was so tempting. Also tempting was the idea of not being prey to the ever-hungry paparazzi who seemed bent on tracking her every move.

Nick’s gaze stayed on her, a charismatic smile coupled with a hint of something else she couldn’t define on his face. He knew she was being swayed by the island’s enthralling promise. He’d always been able to read her mind with insulting ease while she’d grappled with the enigma she’d married. “No pressure,” he said softly, despite the determined gleam in his eyes.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Agreed. But we
will
have that talk in seven days. Yes?”

He said nothing for a moment, but his eyes took on a glint that made her wonder fleetingly what she’d gotten herself into. “Yes.”

Feeling strangely let down when she should’ve been celebrating her minor victory, she took a hasty sip of water and resumed eating.

After a few mouthfuls and many deep breaths to regain her composure, she looked up. “I, um, thanks for coming to rescue me…all of us. I don’t know how you found out where I was, but you put your life in danger when you didn’t have to. So thank you.”

“There was no debate. You were in danger and I, as your husband, had a duty to ensure your safety. I’d ask you why you were there in the first place, but that’s not a conversation for tonight. Tonight is for relaxing. Let the island begin to work its wonders. Perhaps when you’re stronger, you can explain to me why you felt the need to put yourself in such a dangerous situation,” he finished with a quirked eyebrow.

But she hardly heard his words as her mind seized with wrenching precision on one word.
Duty
.

He’d only come out of
duty
. Of course he wouldn’t want the world to know his wife had been in danger and he’d done nothing. Especially when everyone knew he had the means to act.

As head of Andreakos Shipping Industries, he commanded an astonishing amount of power and respect in the business world, and she knew for the sake of share prices that any hint of scandal was to be avoided at all costs.

It occurred to her he hadn’t answered her question about how he’d known her whereabouts. “Did you speak to Liz? Is that how you knew where to find me?”

“No, I haven’t seen or spoken to your friend since you left.” The curtness of his tone reminded her that Liz and Nick had never gotten along. Liz had never hidden her disapproval of her husband. In the end, she’d been justified.

“So how did you find me?” she persisted.

He shrugged. “My security team alerted me that you were missing and in possible danger. I took it from there.”

“You mean you had me
under surveillance
even in Nawaka?” First Mwana, and now Nick, as well? Unbelievable. Her appetite completely deserted her.

One of the things she’d hated about her life with Nick had been the constant presence of security, media, and bodyguards. Having restaurants and theaters checked out before they entered had seriously worn on her nerves right from the start of their relationship. Even when they were alone, there’d always been a shadow or two in the background somewhere.

Except here on Althea.

Here, they’d been truly alone. Or as alone as they could be without the
visible
presence of security guards. The thought of being permanently spied on—not to mention the press attention that would likely await Nick Andreakos’s wife at home in England—made the prospect of recuperating here on Althea even more appealing.

“You didn’t stop being in danger just because we weren’t together.” The harsh snap to his voice brought her head up. Just as in the kitchen, something in his tone coupled with her own instinct warned her things weren’t quite right.

Heart in her throat, she stared at him. “Nick, am I still in danger?”

Chapter Five

Nick tensed. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

“What does that mean?” Belle asked.

He hated lying to her, but hell, she’d been back in his life less than twenty-four hours and was already traumatized from what had happened to her. He tried for the middle ground. “I don’t want to alarm you, simply because I don’t have all the facts yet.”

“Facts on what?” she pressed.

“On what exactly we’re dealing with.”

Her soft lips pursed. “For God’s sake, Nick, stop being so damned cryptic! What’s going on?”

His hand tightened around his wine glass. “When my men looked around the caves, we found a few things we’re still working through.”

“What sort of things?”

Nick swallowed down the fury that rose every time he thought of it. “There was a room with pictures—lots of pictures—displayed. Of you.” He took a fortifying sip of wine.

Stunning blue eyes widened. “Of me? He had a few in another hut he took us to, but—you think I was his primary target?”

“I don’t
think
. I
know
you were.” His forceful answer made her pale. He cursed under his breath. “It’s over,
pethi mou
. No harm will come to you here.”

He glimpsed the naked relief in her eyes and told himself he was doing the right thing in withholding information that Mwana in all likelihood hadn’t given up his hunt for her. No need to scare her unnecessarily.

When she popped a piece of feta into her mouth, he breathed easier. “You didn’t say how you found me.”

“I applied the best intel and resources to the problem and achieved the desired result. Nothing else matters. Now, tell me, how’s the
moussaka
?”

“It’s delicious,” she responded automatically. He watched her take a few unenthusiastic mouthfuls, then she laid her fork down.

“
Baklava
?” He pushed the dessert toward her. She’d grown too thin in the last six months and lost some of the voluptuousness he’d loved about her. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself when she declined and opted for a cup of tea.

By now the sky was covered with a blanket of stars against a velvet background. She leaned back in her seat and gazed into the heavens. This far from civilization, the stars were clearly visible on a night like this. He knew she’d always found the island breathtakingly beautiful, but her sigh was far from contented.

“A penny for them?” he murmured, then wondered why he wished to know her thoughts when he was still reeling from the conversation they’d had just before dinner.

She lowered her eyes to his. His stomach clenched at the misery he saw in the depths.

“Keep your penny. My thoughts aren’t worth it. Not to you anyway.”

The words felt like knives piercing him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She set the cup down with a telling rattle. “It means if you’d cared about me at all, Nick, you wouldn’t have married me under false pretenses. And you certainly wouldn’t have stayed away for the last six months.”

She pushed back her chair and threw down her napkin.

Nick made a conscious effort to relax his fingers around the wineglass before he shattered it. Leaning back in his seat, he forced himself to stay put rather than go after her.

Watching her limp away from him, bristling and hurt, tested his willpower. But to go after her now would only yield further recrimination—and make shambles of their newly formed truce.

But her words cut deep. Did she have any idea of the torture he’d gone through when he’d found out she was missing, the relief he’d felt when he held her safe in his arms?

He cursed fluently under his breath. His plans to get his wife back in his life would take longer to execute than he’d anticipated.

Sighing, he looked up at the stars she’d gazed at a moment ago, seeking divine inspiration. The heavens just winked at him in mocking luminosity.

Restless, he got up and paced the terrace. It was still early, not even nine o’clock, but the thought of working to take his mind off the woman probably now climbing into what used to be
their
bed didn’t appeal. Wanton images of the rapture they’d shared there filled his mind, making him grow hot and hard.

Shit
. He’d already had one cold shower today and foresaw quite a few more before things got better between him and Belle.

Action. That’s what he needed. He looked toward the western part of the island, where three of the twelve-man security crew were camped. Taking out his phone, he called Jameson.

“Everything all right?” he asked, almost wishing there was something, anything to sink his teeth into, help him burn off the irrational anxiety roiling through him.

“A couple of boats sailed by a little too close earlier. But we dispatched them quickly. It’s all quiet here.”

Nick rang off. Then he activated his phone again and checked his messages.

Buried in the sea of business-related questions and requests for his time was one that made him frown. Closing the app, he pressed three on his speed dial.

His executive assistant answered on the first ring.

“This Richard Francis, when did he call?” Nick asked, the hairs on his neck rising. He didn’t believe in coincidence. Never had. And a Central Africa-based reporter sniffing around so soon after Belle’s capture didn’t sit right with him.

He heard the faint sound of keys being tapped, then Spiros said, “Two hours ago. I tried to direct him to the press office, but he was insistent that he be put through to you. I refused, of course.” He paused. “Should I have done otherwise?”

“No,” Nick murmured, his mind churning. “What did he want exactly?”

“He said he works for the
Daily Bugle
in London, and that you’d want to talk to him. Oh, and he asked me to mention a name to you.”

“What name?”

“Mwana.”

Nick barely managed to hang onto his glass as cold dread spread icy fingers through his body.

…

Belle fought against the ties that bound her, but the harder she fought, the tighter they got. Her wrists were raw and bleeding, but she pulled harder.

The fire drew closer, clogging her throat, blocking her airways.

No!

Terror exploded within her as the flames morphed into a giant figure, the acrid blaze reaching out like a colossal hand to capture her.

No!

She reeled backwards and opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. The figure came closer, its volcanic heat scorching her. Twisting wildly, she whimpered.

“Wake up.”

The sinister voice of her captor made her fight harder.

“Pethi mou,
wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”

She heard a muffled oath as her arm struck hard flesh. The sound spurred her on. With one last, choking gasp, she screamed.

Belle came awake instantly, her panting breaths harsh in her ears as she opened her eyes. She couldn’t move. Her nightgown and legs were tangled in the sheets, and strong arms were wrapped around her. Still caught in the remnants of her nightmare, she tried to pull away.

“
Shhh
, it’s all right. I’ve got you now,” a much softer voice than the one in her dream murmured.

Slowly, the familiar seeped in—warm bed, soft glow of bedside lamps, the steady hum of the air-conditioner. And a firm, bare chest pressed against her cheek.

“You’re home, in bed. You’re safe, baby,” Nick reassured her.

“How—What happened?”
Why was he here?
she wanted to ask.

“You screamed. A nightmare, I’m guessing?” Kind hands smoothed through her hair, soothing her.

She nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it? It might help.”

“No,” she croaked, unwilling to relive the horrible dream.

“Okay. I’ll get you some water.” After a moment, he let go and stepped back. She watched him walk to the door, and fear assailed her.

Don’t leave me,
she wanted to scream but she held her tongue.

She needed to start standing on her own two feet, nightmare or no bloody nightmare. She sat up and fought to regain her composure. By the time he walked through the door, she’d put her nightgown back in place, and the hands she’d run through her hair were folded in her lap.