Hostage to Love (Entangled Suspense) (22 page)

The fierce certainty in his voice soothed her jangled nerves.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” he asked.

She thought of confessing Mwana’s sexual fascination with her and decided against it. There was nothing to be gained there.

She shook her head.

Nick placed a finger under her chin and forced her gaze to his troubled one. “You want me to meet you halfway. So this is me doing that, against every instinct. I won’t stop you if you decide to go on a mission like that in the future. But damn it, first we must discuss it, weigh the risks, and take the necessary precautions.
Together
. Agreed?”

The compromise obviously did go against his every instinct, judging by his reluctant expression. But he’d done it anyway. Happiness burst from her very soul at his effort to let go and stop trying to control her. Maybe he really could change.

“Agreed.” She smiled.

A fire lit in his eyes. Leaning down, he kissed her with a depth of passion that nearly undid her. When the need for air forced them apart, he tugged her closer still and folded his arms around her.

They stayed like that for a long time, the peaceful silence disturbed only by the chirping of the birds and the gurgling waterfall. Then, after divesting her of her suit and him of his, they took a quick swim, after which he laid her down, tucked her to his side, and soothed caresses over her body until she drifted off to sleep.

She wasn’t sure how long they slept, but ever attuned to Nick’s antenna, she came awake the instant he tensed at her side.

Raising her head, she saw him reach for the gun. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t need to answer. She heard the electronic whine of the cart as it approached from the other side of the hill.

“You might want to get dressed.”

With a yelp, she jumped up and scrambled to find her suit. Behind her she heard Nick’s tense chuckle.

She rounded on him. “I don’t know what
you’re
laughing at. You don’t know who’s coming, and you’re as naked as I am.”

He remained where he was, his focus on the hill, his finger tapping the barrel of the gun. “There’s no time. Besides, I’m not as uptight about being naked as you.”

Deciding to get dressed first
then
kill him, she closed grateful hands on the discarded suit lying half-hidden under the basket and hurried into it.

But she was all thumbs, her efforts worsening by the ever-growing whine of the cart.

“Here, let me help,” Nick offered magnanimously. With lithe grace, he rose and helped her into her suit, adjusting the straps with quick efficiency before giving in and climbing into his shorts.

Then, his eyes roving her flushed face and body, he murmured wickedly, “We really need to find a way to loosen you up a bit. Anyone would think you were ashamed of that magnificent body of yours.”

She was still sputtering her way to an appropriate response when a golf cart appeared at the top of the hill and parked next to theirs.

Yannis lifted his hand in greeting. Belle turned to Nick. “You
knew
it was Yannis?”

“I suspected. There are security and police crawling all over the island. Not even a crazy asshole like Mwana would attempt anything here.” He put the safety back on the gun and reached for the rest of his clothes.

By the time Yannis reached them, Nick was fully dressed.

At his first words, Nick froze.

Chapter Twelve

“What did he say?” Trepidation twisted through Belle as she tugged her dress over her swimsuit.

“We need to get back to the villa,” Nick said. “Spiros just called. Mwana has sent the second package.” He grabbed her elbow and propelled her toward the steps. Behind them, Yannis gathered the remains of their picnic and followed.

Negotiating the rocky steps didn’t give her a chance to speak, but at the summit she turned to Nick. “Has he opened it? Do we know what’s in it?”

“No. But that’s not all.”

Face set in stone, he placed her in the seat before starting the cart. “News of your capture and rescue has been released to the press. TV stations, both national and international, are leading with the news. The phone’s been ringing non-stop for the last hour,” he delivered in a clipped tone. “I supposed it was inevitable.”

Anxiety rippled through her. “God— Nick, my parents!”

“We’ll call them as soon as we get back,” he said.

Having cleared an outcrop of rocks, she was thrown back into her seat when he floored the accelerator, wringing every single horsepower from the battery-powered engine.

“I should’ve told them. They don’t deserve to hear it on the news.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were trying to protect them. They’ll understand. Let’s just get back to the house, okay?” He took one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze hers, a fleeting reassurance, which, although welcome, was gone before she could take comfort in it.

When he brought the golf cart to an abrupt halt in front of the villa and sprinted up the steps, she scrambled after him, almost running to keep up with his long strides. She tried to smile reassuringly at an anxious Demetra, who stood just inside the door wringing her hands, but she only managed a tight-lipped grimace as she dashed after Nick.

He entered his study, ushered her in, and shut the door behind them.

“We’ll call your parents first, then I’ll speak to Spiros—”

They both froze as the phone rang. With quick strides, he walked over to his desk and snatched it up.

“Andreakos.” The greeting sounded like a swear word, and she winced with sympathy for the caller. “Yes, she’s right here,” his voice softened. “Hold on.”

Nick lowered the phone. “He beat us to it. It’s your father. He wants to speak to both of us,” he said, taking her arm when she reached the desk. He sat down and then settled her into his lap.

“Go ahead, Jon, you’re on speaker.” His warm breath brushed her ear, causing a frisson of awareness to tingle down her spine. She started guiltily when her father spoke.

“Belle, are you there? Have you seen the news? Is what they’re saying true?” The shock and worry in his voice cut straight to her heart.

Nick’s hand flexed at her waist, and she had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Yes, Dad, I’m here. I’m sorry you had to find out that way, but yes…it’s true.”

“
What?
Dear girl, when Nick told us he was bringing you home, we thought you’d been unwell on your holiday. We had no idea this was what had happened. Why didn’t you tell us? Either of you?” His voice was gruff. Her heart sank, and she wished for the umpteenth time she had the power to turn back the clock two weeks—no, six months.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I…”

“It was my fault, Jon. I didn’t want to worry you and Annette,” Nick slid in smoothly, his hand tightening around her.

“Be that as it may, we would’ve preferred to have been told. We’re not children to be cosseted! Is what they’re saying true, Belle? That you were
tortured
?”

She heard a break in his voice. A muffled sound, much like a sob, came through the speaker, she guessed from her mother.

“Listen to me, Dad, Mum. Yes, I was captured, but I was absolutely not tortured, I promise you that. As I told you when we spoke yesterday, I’m fine. The papers are grossly exaggerating.” She tried to project as much reassurance into her voice as possible.

“But how can it be exaggeration?” he asked, perplexed. “According to the Dutch couple on the TV now, you were held for almost a week.”

Her eyes widened. She glanced at Nick and found the same surprise reflected on his face. Grabbing the remote control on his desk, he turned on the TV.

And there on the screen, on channel after channel, were the images of Hendrik and Edda, the Dutch couple, sobbing as they told the story of their capture. Too shocked to speak, she just stared at the screen.

“Hello, are you still there?” her father asked.

“We’re here, Jon,” Nick replied. “But can we call you back?”

“Well, Annette and I were hoping to find out more—”

“We’ll fill you in, later. But in the meantime please, rest assured, whatever happened, Belle’s fine now, okay?”

“Okay, son. But before you go, can either of you tell me if you know a man named Richard Francis?”

They both tensed. “Why do you ask?” Nick asked.

“Well, he’s been calling incessantly, wanting to know your whereabouts, Belle—”

“When was the last time he called?” Nick cut across him.

There was a muffled sound as Jon spoke to his wife. “About an hour ago.”

Belle gasped, but Nick shot her a warning glance. She tried to breathe evenly as her father continued. “He won’t tell me what it’s about, but he claims to be from the
Daily Bugle
. What surprises me is how he got our unlisted number. Only a handful of people have it.”

Nick exchanged glances with her, his face hard and resolute. “It’s probably nothing, but I’m going to get my security chief to give you a call. The authorities will probably want to talk to this man, find out why he wants to contact Belle. And, we may also need for you to agree to have your phone calls traced. Are you okay with that?”

“I—yes, I suppose. Look, tell me straight, son. Is my girl in danger?”

Belle’s heart squeezed at the pain in her father’s voice. “Not if I can help it, Jon. I’d die before I let anything happen to her.” Nick answered, his gaze holding hers in a solemn promise.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip hard when Nick leaned forward to softly kiss her temple.

“Okay, thank you, son.” Her father sounded a little less worried. “Bye, then.”

The moment they rang off, Nick put the call through to Jameson with the instructions. Then he tugged her to the TV.

“Why would Richard Francis risk being exposed like that when he knows the authorities are after him?” she asked the question uppermost in her mind.

Nick shrugged. “If he’s been calling your parents, then he probably guessed they didn’t know you’d been captured. He was hoping to trip them up into revealing where you are in case you’d left the island after what happened last night. That’s the move of a desperate man.”

“You sound pleased about that.”

His smile was hypnotically menacing. “Desperate means they’re likely to make mistakes, show their hand.”

He moved closer to the TV and turned up the volume.

She raised her voice to be heard. “How are we going to deal with this?” She indicated the press conference with Edda and Hendrick.

His jaw clenched for a split second. “I know how much press intrusion upsets you, but we may have to deal with this head on, sweetheart. It may also serve to draw out Mwana and Francis once and for all.”

They listened for a moment. The news anchor traced a brief history of the unrest in Nawaka, then reeled back to the conference with the Morgensens.

Nick turned off the TV and threw the control on the table with more force than necessary. “At least we know how the news got out, and to some extent why,” he said forcefully.

She sank onto a sofa by the window. “And I can’t really say I blame the Morgensens. I think the world needs to know what’s going on in countries like Nawaka. Maybe if enough light is shed on the situation there, something will be done to ease the suffering, especially for those poor children.”

Nick frowned. “Personally, I have my doubt as to the impact of five minutes on the news. By tomorrow, another bigger story will take its place, and this circus will be forgotten. But I would’ve liked a heads up before the Morgensens went ahead with their interview.” He waved his hand at the now blank screen, pacing the room like a prowling tiger. With every step, his anger grew more apparent.

“What now?”

“Now we see what Mwana has to say.” He went to his desk and hit the speed dial. Spiros came on the line and connected to the videoconference seconds later.

This time he was alone. “Security has checked the package. This one, too, is clean.”

Nick nodded. Spiros opened the package. Another photo of Belle fell out, this one taken as she helped to string lights around a tree in front of the mission. She was laughing with a couple of kids, her face alight with joy.

The image tugged at Nick, robbing him of breath for a few seconds. When he glanced at her, her face was riveted to the screen, a small, sad smile lifting her lips. Nick had to dig deep to tear his gaze away, to focus on Spiros.

“Is there another flash drive?”

Spiros nodded and plugged it in.

The same room, same table with Mwana seated in front of it.

“Good day to you. I feel we’ve wasted enough time on this, so I’ll get right to the point. By now you’ll have met an associate of mine by the name of Richard Francis. Rest assured he wasn’t there to harm you, Mr. Andreakos. He had my express instructions not to do so.”

Nick couldn’t suppress the growl that stemmed from his soul.

“He was merely there to reassure me that Belle was on the island and unharmed. The men who followed were also instructed not to harm anyone.” He leaned forward. “I merely wished to make a point, Mr. Andreakos, and that was to show you that I’m not without the same power and influence
you
choose to abuse. So here’s what’s going to happen now—” He stopped abruptly as a phone rang nearby. He left the camera rolling as he went off screen. The low conversation was difficult to follow.

Nick exchanged glances with Belle and caught the haunted look in her eyes. “Easy, baby. I have a feeling I know what’s coming. Things are about to get interesting.”

She made a choking sound in her throat. He pulled her closer and ran his hand over her hair just as Mwana came back on screen.

The calm, level-headed despot was gone. In his place was a madman whose hatred shone from icy blue eyes as he stared into the camera.

“Once again, you’ve proven that you prefer violence to dialogue, Mr. Andreakos. You’ve killed good men who were only there to deliver a message. Obviously there’s now no point discussing how you’ll return to me what’s rightfully mine. Not that I’m surprised. Greedy, intransigent men you like are what’s wrong with the world.” He stopped to inhale loudly, and the scar on his face stretched grotesquely as he smiled. “Well, here’s a message for you. I’m coming for you, Andreakos. And I’m coming for what’s mine.”