Modern Romance December 2016 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

did. Which was wonderful and way beyond the call of...’

      ‘Duty?’ he supplied, quirking an eyebrow, amusement lighting his eyes, turning them almost golden, and making her insides fizz in response. Scowling the man was almost unbearably attractive. Smiling he was impossible to resist.

      ‘Yes,’ she managed, dragging her gaze away from his. ‘I suppose.’

      ‘I said last night and I will say it again, there is no need to feel embarrassed.’

      ‘You don’t think?’ Talia blurted. ‘You saw me naked. Not to mention sweaty and shaking and...’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘I’d really rather not remember.’

      His mouth twitched in what she thought was amusement. ‘I’ve seen women naked before, Talia.’

      ‘Like most of your nannies?’ Angelos’s eyebrows snapped together and, horrified, Talia slapped a hand over her mouth. ‘I mean,’ she said through her fingers, ‘Maria mentioned that they’ve tried to seduce you. And failed.’

      ‘Maria talks too much,’ he replied, but he didn’t sound angry.

      Slowly Talia dropped her hand, knotted her fingers together. ‘It’s just I don’t want you to think...’ What? That her sweating and shaking was supposed to have been a turn-on? She was absolutely no good at this, Talia thought as a fresh wave of mortification swept over her. She had absolutely no experience with sex, or even talking about sex, and especially not with a man as gorgeous as Angelos Mena.

      ‘I don’t think that, Talia,’ Angelos said. ‘Last night you were in no shape for a seduction.’

      ‘Right. Sorry.’ She gave a little shake of her head. ‘I’m handling this really badly. I actually came in here to thank you, and also to explain why I reacted the way I did last night. Because, contrary to what you may think now, I’m not actually scared of storms.’

      Angelos’s look was one of almost comical disbelief. ‘You could have fooled me last night.’

      ‘I know.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Would you believe I actually liked storms when I was little? I loved watching them from the window of my bedroom, especially in summer. They were so...wild.’

      Briefly, so briefly she almost missed it, something flared in Angelos’s eyes. She felt a kick in her stomach and she forced herself to continue, to ignore the helpless desire this man so easily ignited in her, simply by saying a word. Wild. What would it be like, if Angelos let go of his tightly held control? Images flared in her mind, vague swirling pictures of limbs tangling, mouths pressing, hands reaching. She shoved them away and met Angelos’s gaze. ‘It’s not the storm I’m scared of,’ she explained. ‘It’s what it makes me remember.’

      Angelos stilled, his hands resting flat on his desk. ‘You don’t have to tell me—’

      ‘I know. But after what you did, how you helped me, you deserve to know.’ And actually, she realised, she wanted to tell him—even though she’d tried to keep the whole awful episode hidden from everyone, just as her grandfather had kept it out of the press, both of them pretending it had never happened, because that was easier. She wanted someone to know, someone who, amazingly, might understand a little. She drew a deep breath, let the air fill her lungs and buoy her courage. ‘When I was eighteen,’ she stated, ‘I was kidnapped.’

      Angelos opened his mouth, but no words came out. ‘Kidnapped...’ he finally said, and his voice sounded hoarse, his tone horrified.

      ‘I was travelling in Europe, after my high school graduation. It was meant to be my big exciting summer, exploring the world, having endless adventures. I was with a couple of friends...we took precautions and we didn’t do anything stupid...’ Even now she felt the need to justify herself, to explain how it wasn’t her fault, because for years she’d tormented herself with the what-ifs. What if she’d been more careful? What if she’d travelled with more people? What if she could have done something to keep the disaster from unfolding the way it had?

      Angelos had recovered himself and was now looking at her with his familiar hard stare, his eyes dangerously dark. ‘What happened exactly?’

      ‘We were in Paris. The City of Love.’ She let out a short, sharp laugh and shook her head. ‘Right in front of the Eiffel Tower. It felt like it should have been the safest place in the world. My friend Anna had gone to see about tickets to go up the tower and I was just taking a photo.’ She felt her chest start to go tight, her throat constrict, as memories assailed her, memories she’d kept locked tightly away. ‘I’d raised the camera up to my face, and was looking through the lens when...’ She stopped, closing her eyes. That moment when her world had shifted, shattered. One second was all it had taken to go from carefree insouciance to utter, incredulous terror.

      ‘Talia,’ Angelos said in a low voice. ‘You don’t have to—’

      ‘No, I want to,’ she insisted. ‘I do. I never talk about this, but I want to now...after what you did...’

      ‘It wasn’t that much—’

      ‘It was, Angelos,’ she responded, and she heard how her voice throbbed with sincerity. She saw something flash across Angelos’s face and she realised he’d never given permission to call him by his first name. ‘Sorry, should I not have...’

      ‘Not have what?’

      ‘Called you Angelos,’ she muttered. Angelos let out a wryly disbelieving laugh.

      ‘After everything, Talia, I think you can call me Angelos. In fact, I think it would be strange if you didn’t.’

      After everything. Two little words that made her remember how he’d held her so tenderly, how hard and solid his chest had felt beneath her cheek. How she’d wanted to stay there for ever, wrapped in his arms, protected and safe.

      Angelos rose from behind his desk, and taking her by the hand, he drew her to the two club chairs in front of the fireplace. She sank onto one, her legs shaky, and he sat in the other. ‘So they took you from the Eiffel Tower,’ he prompted, his voice low and steady.

      ‘They grabbed me so quickly. I didn’t even see...’ She swallowed hard, remembering how brutally and ruthlessly efficient the man had been, pulling her tightly to him, leaning down as if he were whispering in her ear, looking all for the world as if they were two lovers sharing an intimate moment. In reality he’d been pressing a chloroform-soaked cloth to her mouth and nose. She’d been unconscious in seconds.

      She forced herself to meet Angelos’s gaze and continue. ‘They drugged me. When I woke up, I was in some kind of shed. It was locked, of course, and there was nothing in there. A dirt floor, a tin ceiling...barely room to stand up. And it was so dark.’ A shudder ran through her. ‘I had no idea where I was, or what they were going to do to me.’

      Angelos’s face was pale, his eyes like burning dark coals. ‘That must have been utterly terrifying.’

      ‘It was.’ She pressed her lips together, memory rising inside her, choking her. ‘A man brought me food and water, although he never spoke to me. After a while I actually started to feel bored, which sounds ridiculous, but I just wanted something to happen.’ She shook her head. ‘I was so naïve.’ She lapsed into silence, remembering the endless days and weeks of sitting in that cramped cabin, filthy, exhausted, emotionally spent. Almost wanting it to be over...for good. She knew what despair felt like. She understood hopelessness.

      ‘What happened then, Talia?’

      She jerked her gaze up, refocusing on Angelos. ‘There was a storm one night. A terrible storm, worse than the one we had here. I think the lightning must have struck something nearby, because there was a terrific crash, and I heard something fall nearby, a tree, I suppose. I was afraid they would leave me to die in there and save themselves. Or maybe they’d died, and no one would ever find me.’ Her fists had become bloody and bruised from banging on the door, a useless but instinctive bid for freedom.

      ‘But they didn’t?’