The Hostage Bride. Kate Walker

at all! If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you!’

      To her fury, her reaction only seemed to amuse him, his smile incensing her further.

      ‘So the kitten has claws,’ he murmured with silky mockery. ‘I can see I shall have to be prepared to defend myself.’

      If her rage had been merely an annoying fly, easily flicked away and dismissed, he couldn’t have made his contempt more obvious. The disdain with which he shrugged off her impotent threat had her clenching her hands tight against her thighs, struggling with the impulse to use them on that arrogantly handsome face.

      ‘Oh, go to hell!’ she spat furiously. ‘Just leave me alone!’

      ‘Willingly,’ he responded smoothly. ‘But I can’t help thinking that you would be much more comfortable inside. You can’t stay in this car all night. For one thing, I think the weather is about to change.’

      A quick glance at the sky confirmed the truth of his words. The brilliant sun of earlier in the day had been eclipsed by gathering clouds, which were growing thicker and darker by the minute. But it was worse than that. Some of the intensity of the sun had also faded, leaving her in no doubt that the evening was drawing in. Just how long had she been unconscious while they were on the road? How far could they possibly have travelled in that time—and to where?

      ‘And I’m sure you must be getting hungry. If you just come into the house—’

      ‘No.’

      Felicity shook her head firmly, her chin setting stubbornly.

      ‘I’m not going anywhere with you. You can’t make me.’

      His sigh was a blend of exasperation and resignation.

      ‘Felicity, querida, you cannot stay out here.’

      ‘I can do whatever I want! And it’s Miss Hamilton to you!’

      Damn him, he was laughing at her again, the soft sound of his amusement adding fuel to the fire of indignation blazing inside her.

      ‘Don’t be foolish, gatita. You must be stiff and uncomfortable, and in need of something to eat and drink. Come with me…’

      The appalling thing was that she was tempted. That the strong, tanned hand he held out to her actually looked as if it was proffered in a gesture of friendship, of assistance. But she’d been caught that way once before and she didn’t intend to let it happen all over again.

      ‘Señorita.’ The edge to his voice revealed how much she was testing his patience. ‘You are not making this easy on either of us. If you would just come inside then we could handle this situation in a much more civilised manner.’

      ‘I don’t want to make anything easy for you! And, quite frankly, “civilised” in the last word I could ever use to describe you! Nothing on earth could ever induce me to set foot inside that house—’

      ‘Not even if I promise to let you phone your family?’ Rico inserted smoothly, interrupting the flow of her tirade.

      ‘Phone?’

      Abruptly all the fight left her with the speed of the air being expelled from a punctured balloon, leaving her limp and weak.

      ‘You’d let me do that?’

      The arrogant dark head moved in a swift nod of acquiescence.

      ‘But only if you come inside.’

      His tone was huskily seductive, pure enticement in a silky murmur. It was the voice that the serpent must have used to tempt Eve in the Garden of Eden and Felicity found herself weakening dangerously.

      The longing to speak to her parents, to hear a friendly voice in the middle of this nightmare was overwhelming. She had never felt so alone, so lost and anxious—not even on the day that she had discovered precisely how much of a mess her father had made of his life, the dangers he had created for his family.

      ‘The first thing you can do as soon as you are inside is ring your parents, reassure them that you are well. I’m sure they would be glad to hear from you.’

      They would be going out of their minds with worry. Hot tears rushed into Felicity’s eyes at just the thought.

      ‘You wouldn’t deceive me about this?’

      The sheen of moisture in those dove-grey eyes was Rico’s undoing. If there was one thing he had never been able to cope with, it was a woman in tears. Maria had wept all over him when she had found out about Edward Venables’ forthcoming marriage and that was why he was here, now, seeing this woman’s tears threaten and knowing that he was the cause of it.

      ‘Trust me on this,’ he said huskily.

      Once more that big, strong hand was held out to her, and this time, after a moment’s hesitation, she tentatively put her own into it. The way that her fingers disappeared when he folded his around them was almost shocking; the paler skin swallowed up by the tanned power of his grasp.

      ‘Come, belleza,’ he encouraged. ‘Come with me.’

      And slowly, cautiously, she let herself be drawn with him, sliding over the soft leather of the seat. She was almost out of the car when a new idea came to her, flashing into her mind with a force like lightning so that for a second she paused, one foot just reaching out to the ground, wondering if she could possibly risk it.

      She had no idea at all where she was. The car was parked at the top of some wide, winding drive, thickly lined with trees. Just a few yards away stood a large, elegant house, the heavy wooden door already open onto a wide, spacious hall. Clearly, Rico had unlocked the door before he had come back to the car to waken her.

      The house or the drive? Felicity asked herself, mentally veering backwards and forwards between the two options.

      The drive must lead to a road—but how far away—and what was beyond that? And if she ran for the drive, then Rico could simply get into the car and come after her. Hampered as she was by the long skirts of her dress, the delicate satin shoes with their fine, high heels, she doubted if she could manage to run very far or very fast for very long.

      But if she could make it to the house then she could slam the door to and hopefully bolt it against him. He had already said that there was a phone in the hall. Even if she only managed to win herself a few free seconds, then surely it would be long enough to ring the police and scream for help? The house was her best bet.

      But first she had to disable Rico, at least for a moment or two.

      ‘Felicity?’

      Her hesitation had caught his attention, which gave her the cue she wanted.

      ‘I—I’m sorry…’ she managed to sound convincingly hesitant. ‘I don’t feel…’

      The pretence of faintness, of still feeling the after-effects of the sedative, gave her an excuse to free her hands from his, pressing them to her forehead, hiding her eyes.

      ‘Are you not well?’

      He actually sounded concerned so that she allowed herself a small, secret grin of triumph behind her concealing fingers.

      ‘Just a little unsteady. If I could just…’

      She needed to keep her hands free so, instead of taking his again, she let them rest lightly on his arm, using his strength to support her as she got to her feet.

      It was a mistake that almost distracted her from her purpose. In the moment that her fingers closed over the taut, powerful muscle, the hard bone underneath the fine material of his jacket she felt her heart jolt, her breath catching sharply in her throat. An electrical sense of awareness sizzled along every nerve, making her head spin, but this time for real. Rico was so close that the unique scent of him filled her nostrils, warm, potent, musky, totally alien and yet strangely, disturbingly familiar in a way that set her pulse racing hotly.

      This time her unsteadiness wasn’t totally feigned as she