Reluctant Hostage. Margaret Mayo

was too strung up, too impatient to hear what he had to say about her sister to worry too much about what she was wearing. Her vulnerability was the last thing on her mind. Though it was impossible not to feel faintly disturbed when she was sitting so close to him that their shoulders almost touched.

      He slowed the engine and switched to auto-pilot so that he could give her his full attention. ‘Whether this will come as a surprise to you, I’m unsure. You obviously know your sister far better than I do. In fact I suspect that you’re here on the pretext that you’re looking for her, yet all the time planning to pull the same kind of stunt.’

      ‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,’ Libby said sharply, her frown deepening. ‘All I want to know is why we’re going to Lanzarote when my sister is missing. We should be looking for her, not messing about like this. Unless she’s there? Is that what——?’

      ‘Be quiet, Elizabeth!’ he rasped.

      The sharpness of his tone and his use of her proper name actually stunned her into silence. What had happened to turn him into this cold, hard-faced, accusing man? What had her sister done?

      His lips were turned down at the corners as he spoke, and his eyes must be frozen into chips of grey ice. ‘Rebecca, whom you profess to be so worried about, is enjoying herself somewhere with a considerable sum of money which rightfully belongs to me. She’s been missing for over a week now.’

      Libby gasped, her face suddenly draining of all colour. ‘You’re saying my sister has stolen money from you?’ And when he nodded gravely and firmly she snapped, ‘Becky wouldn’t do a thing like that. She isn’t a thief. How dare you accuse her? This is a ghastly mistake. There has to be some other explanation—some perfectly simple explanation.’

      ‘If there is one, then I’ve yet to find it,’ he thrust back savagely, his eyes cutting into her with their icy sharpness. ‘And until such time as I come up with an answer, or

      get my money back, or get my hands on Rebecca——’

      each statement was accentuated with a closed fist punching the control board in front of him ‘—then you are staying with me!’

      Libby was too anxious about her sister for the full import of what he’d said to sink in. ‘I don’t believe this about Becky!’ she cried. ‘You’re lying, you’re making it up.’ Lord, how could he even think it? Rebecca might have her faults, but stooping so low as to steal from her employer wasn’t one of them.

      ‘Why should I make it up?’ he asked coldly.

      ‘My sister isn’t a thief,’ she riposted. ‘If there is money missing, then I’m quite confident that she hasn’t taken it.’

      ‘You are confident?’ he bit out scornfully. ‘It would appear you don’t know your sister as well as you think you do. If you’re that certain, then how do you account for the fact that it disappeared at the same time as Rebecca?’

      ‘It could be coincidence,’ she returned, shivering despite the warmth of the day, folding her arms across her chest and rocking backwards and forwards on her seat.

      ‘Too much of a damn coincidence,’ he snorted. ‘No, your sister took the money all right, and I sure as hell am going to make her suffer as soon as I catch up with her! Meanwhile you’ll do very nicely.’

      Libby was too dazed to think clearly. She kept shaking her head and looking at Warwick with wide, horrified eyes, at the same time rubbing her chilled arms with icy fingers. ‘It has to be a mistake.’

      ‘A mistake, yes, on your sister’s part,’ he rasped. ‘I think she took me for some kind of fool.’

      ‘And the police are looking for her?’ she whispered, suddenly remembering all too clearly that time the policewoman had called at their house and told her that Rebecca was wanted in connection with a robbery. She had felt as if the whole world had suddenly crashed down over her head, and in the hours until it had proved to be a false alarm she had felt physically ill.

      ‘Naturally,’ he said grimly. ‘But I’m not a patient man. I decided to do a little detective work myself.’

      Libby felt as though her heart was going to force its way out of her chest. She had set out on this holiday so happily, and now, in the space of a few short hours, her whole world had turned upside-down. She still couldn’t believe it; in fact she refused to believe it. Rebecca would never do such a thing; she was as sure of that as she had been of anything in her life.

      ‘Unfortunately,’ he went on resolutely, ‘I’ve had no success so far in tracing Rebecca. I’m hoping that you can tell me where she is?’

      ‘Me?’ squeaked Libby. ‘How can I tell you? I was expecting to find her on this boat!’

      ‘You’d not arranged to meet her elsewhere?’

      ‘Of course not.’

      ‘She hadn’t asked you to come and pick up those dresses that she left?’

      ‘Most definitely not,’ snapped Libby. ‘Really, this is all getting beyond a joke.’

      ‘I find it odd that you’ve come out here at the exact time that she has gone missing.’

      ‘And I find it odd that she’s gone missing at all!’ Libby’s eyes were a disturbed mauve, heavy with dread and deeply distrustful now of this man who was asking her all these questions. She suddenly wondered about their meeting. It all seemed too contrived, as though he had known all along who she was, as though he had engineered the whole thing.

      ‘Our meeting wasn’t accidental, was it?’ she asked sharply, her eyes intent on his face, watching for every nuance, no matter how subtle.

      He shook his head. ‘No, it wasn’t.’

      She had thought he would deny it, and was shocked by the easy admission. ‘You mean to say you planned to take me prisoner all along?’ Her skin crawled at the thought that she had played right into his hands. How could she have been so naive? She ought to have known that a man like Warwick Hunter wouldn’t look twice at a girl like her. She sprang to her feet and glared down at him. ‘You swine; how dare you? What you’ve done is tantamount to abduction. It’s illegal. If I went to the police you’d be in deep, deep trouble.’

      ‘And your sister’s going to be in deep, deep trouble when they catch her,’ he countered coldly.

      Libby wondered how she had ever thought he had a sensual mouth. With lips tightly compressed, it was a vicious straight line. A muscle kept jerking in his jaw and his hands held the wheel in a grip tight enough to make his knuckles white.

      ‘How did you do it? How did you find out that I’d be on that plane?’ she asked hoarsely.

      ‘Perhaps more luck than judgement,’ he admitted. ‘I had business in England, and decided to have a watch kept on your house in case Rebecca decided to run back home.’

      Libby gasped. It was not pleasant knowing that her every movement had been monitored by a complete stranger.

      ‘I didn’t really think she would—not with all that money; it would be too risky. Then I was told that you were heading for Gatwick Airport. What else could I think but that you were going to meet her?’

      ‘How did you know I was Rebecca’s sister? I could have been a friend—anyone.’ Libby was still shivering at the thought of being spied on.

      ‘Rebecca once showed me your photograph. There are not many girls about with ash-blonde hair like yours. It really was just a matter of finding out which flight you were on. I must admit I was shocked that you were going to Tenerife. I thought Rebecca would have long since left the island.’

      ‘And very fortunate for you that there was an available seat,’ she thrust angrily. How easily he had duped her! She went cold even thinking about it. All the time he had known exactly who she was, all the time he had been planning to make her his prisoner. And he had gone