Hostage to Love (Entangled Suspense) (14 page)

“Yes, the soldier overheard him say he intended to have her, whether you paid the ransom or not. Mwana kept her separate from the rest of the hostages and spent hours talking to her. He…he may have shared things with her.”

“What things?” Nick snapped.

“This is just secondhand of course, sir. But the soldier mentioned they spoke of his plans for Nawaka, how he intended to seize power.”

“
Jesus!
” Nick’s rage threatened to spill over. He also wanted to storm back to the villa and demand Belle tell him exactly what she’d been playing at. He forced himself to breathe in the tangy salt air. “Mr. Allen, do you understand why it’s imperative he’s found as quickly as possible? Before this madman attempts anything that’ll further put my wife’s safety in jeopardy?”

“Sure I do, sir, but—”

“No. I don’t want to hear
buts
. Hire as many bodies as you need. But find him, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Nick ended the call, then breathed deeply when he realized his hands were shaking. “
Damn it!
”

He hated handing over Belle’s safety to someone else, but there was no way he could go after Mwana himself when Belle needed him here.

He’d known in his gut that the rebel leader was dangerous. To have it confirmed took things to a whole new level. If Mwana had shared his plans with Belle, then he’d done so in the certainty—delusional, granted— of Belle being around to help him see them through.

Nick took another breath and forced himself to acknowledge reality—Belle wasn’t out of danger. For Mwana to have gone to this much trouble to hide his whereabouts wasn’t good news.

His gaze fell on the almost motionless water stretching for miles in front of him. Perhaps tonight the swim might work if he doubled the distance. He tossed his shirt onto the sand and tugged off his trousers. Taking a deep, hopeful breath, he sprinted across the sand.

…

Belle stood at the top of the steps and watched Nick plunge into the waves. In the relative stillness of the moonlit water, his powerful figure cut a swift path as he struck away from shore.

She couldn’t explain why she’d remained out here instead of upstairs in her room. After all, as she’d told herself a few dozen times already, there was no future for them.

Very early on after she’d walked out, a part of her
had
hoped he’d come after her. But he never came, never sought reconciliation. The one time she’d tried to reach out—her desperate need for him winning out—her email had bounced back—
message undeliverable
.

In terms of signs, that had been a huge, impossible-to-miss one.

I always intended to come after you
…

To believe him would mean to believe Nick hadn’t consigned their marriage to a failed venture. But at what cost would it come when he couldn’t even admit how he felt about her?

And why the hell was she was standing here, watching Nick swim farther out into the ocean, like some kind of wide-eyed groupie? Because at the back of her mind the thought niggled that she’d somehow gotten it wrong?

Her mind whirled, and she hated herself for the doubts she was letting creep in. A cool breeze blew over her, and she rubbed at her arms, her gaze straying to the water. She could no longer make out Nick’s form. His powerful breaststroke had taken him out of the path of the moonlight. Whatever questions she had would have to wait until tomorrow.

Besides, from his coldly furious expression when he’d turned away from her, this might not be the right time to try and talk to him. She’d wait till morning, after a good night’s sleep, when they were both level-headed.

Exhaustion seeped through her, and she walked toward the house.

Approaching the terrace, her feet slowed. She couldn’t shake the look on Nick’s face when he’d realized she didn’t believe him. Not even the best actor could fake a look like that. He’d looked angry, yes, but also…devastated.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered, her mind in turmoil. She was about to step off the terrace when she heard the phone ringing.

She frowned. Only a handful of people knew the island’s number, and most of them used Nick’s business line in his study.

At the insistent ring, she hurried inside and picked up the handset. “Hello?”

Silence. Not just silence.
Menacing
silence.

A shiver raced over her, turning her from warm to icy in an instant.

“Hello? Is someone there?” she demanded, her voice husky with sudden fear. The slow exhale that came down the line was unmistakable.

A second later, the line went dead. Hand shaking, she dropped the phone back in its cradle. Her heart hammered as she stared down at it.
It was nothing
. She fought to regulate her breathing. She was safe.

Charles Mwana was thousands of miles away. And even if he wasn’t…Nick would keep her safe. There were security guards stationed around the island. Lots of them.

She was safe
.

She repeated the phrase over and over until the thought settled deep, calming her.

Returning outside, she stood on the terrace, her arms wrapped around her middle. Short of joining Nick in the sea—and there was no way she was doing that—or swallowing a couple of those hated sleeping pills, a vigorous workout in the pool was the only way to banish the past hour’s turbulent exchange.

At the poolside, she stepped out of her slippers. Cool flagstones inlaid with the same rich mosaics that graced the interior of the house soothed her warm soles.

Her dress came off easily, and she stood in her lacy bra and thong. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of skinny-dipping. Electing to stay as she was, she stretched her arms over her head and executed a clean dive.

The water closed over her, and her troubled thoughts receded. Setting a fast pace, she swam lap after lap until her arms protested at the punishment. She clung to the side until she caught her breath, then she climbed out of the water and walked to the marble-tiled shower wall next to the pool. The multi-headed jets sprang to life at the push of a button. She sighed as soothing, warm water caressed her from both sides of the curved wall.

Her wet lace underwear chafed her skin. After a moment’s hesitation, she peeled them off. Demetra and Yannis had retired to their cottage a while ago, and the wall was high enough and hidden from view of the house. She braced both hands on the tiles in front of her, let her head roll back onto one shoulder and reveled in the water flowing over her.

She let out a sigh of pleasure as the jets pounded her, melting away the knots and tension in her body. A few more minutes of this, and she’d head for bed.

“
Christos
!”

The harsh oath cratered her serenity. Her head whipped round, and she froze.

Nick stood less than a handful of steps away, as still as she was. But his eyes, oh, the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her with their barely leashed hunger. Her mouth dropped open, sucking in desperate breaths as his gaze came back to hers.

My libido rages out of control only with you
…

Fire licked through her belly. Her hands remained glued to the wall, her eyes riveted on him. For a long, tense moment, the only sound breaking the silence was that of the hot jets spewing from the showerheads. His shirt fell from his hand. Her senses registered the movement, but her eyes remained on his. His nostrils flared as he took another deep breath. One long stride brought him a step closer, and her insides somersaulted.

“What are you still doing up? I told you it wasn’t safe to be around me right now.” His voice was barely recognizable, its cadence thickened with anger and arousal. In his eyes she saw a clear, sizzling flame, which branded her, seared her to the soul.

“I…don’t think I can sleep.” Her words squeezed past a throat clogged with emotion. “Do you…do you want talk?”

“No. I don’t.” The words were succinct, implacable. “I want something else. Something that involves little or no talking. And you have the power to give it.” His head tilted in subtle challenge. “Trouble is…are you woman enough to give it to me?
To us
? Or will you scurry away again like an aggrieved Victorian maiden the moment things get too hot?” Legs wide apart, his stance was menacing. His gauntlet twitched between them, and his molten eyes scorched her, their quicksilver depths threatening to consume her.

“Don’t challenge me, Nick,” she whispered, her need a living thing, desperate to be assuaged.

“Or what?” he taunted, his whole presence telling her he’d gone past control’s threshold.

Unable to hold his gaze for fear of being burned alive, she lowered her lids, but instead of looking away, seeking a safer outlet, they began a journey of discovery over his body.

With moonlight and the soft lamps on the terrace the only light, he was cast in half shadow, all hard angles and smooth planes. But she witnessed his reaction to her scrutiny. His tongue flicked out to bathe his lower lip. She gasped for more air, her lungs protesting at her brain’s ineptitude at taking life-giving breaths.

Having worn only his trousers after his swim, Nick’s torso was bare, and her eyes ran over his taut, moon-kissed flesh. Perfect male nipples, now puckered to tiny points, made her tongue tingle. God, she wanted to taste them so badly, wanted to feel the hard nubs beneath her lips. Dropping her gaze lower, she took in the tiny droplets clinging to his washboard stomach. She wanted to lick every single drop off, but she held firm. Until her glance dipped below his waist.

And she came undone.

His trousers were zipped but the button unfastened. She watched as the zipper lowered in slow motion, of its own accord, forced down by the power of his growing erection. When his cock sprang free of its constraints and strained toward her, she moaned out loud.

She knew she was lost, but she’d go down fighting.

She raised her eyes to his and met volcanic heat in their gray depths.

“I’m more woman than you’ll ever encounter again in this lifetime. But if you want me, you’re going to have to come and get me.”

The volcano erupted.

With one long stride, he reached her. One arm clamped around her waist and the other angled her head to take the force of his lips as they smashed down on hers. This time there was no dainty savoring or languid exploring. His mouth devastated hers with complete vanquishing in mind.

The salt on his warm skin teased her nostrils. Not breaking the kiss, he turned her around in the shower, and the slide of his hard torso against her back as the water pounded them made her moan as his mouth ravaged hers. When his erection probed the cleft in her ass, her knees quivered, and her hands started to slip.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he commanded roughly, “Keep your hands on the wall.” He paused only to make sure she obeyed him before his teeth grazed over the back of her neck.

His assault was mind-melting in its devastation and went on for eternity. He nipped and licked the skin of her neck, her ear, her shoulder, her cheek. When he stepped back, she felt weak, a pulse throbbing between her thighs that made her want to scream at him to hurry.

He peeled off his wet trousers and kicked them away. She heard the slap of the sodden garment as it hit the wall and slipped to the ground. She didn’t need to look to recall with perfect clarity his powerful thighs and the essence of man that would be displayed prominently between his legs.

Dear Lord
. He would be as thick and long, and as glorious she remembered.

“Nick—” She wanted to warn him she was at the edge of her endurance, but she changed her mind. Why give him all the power? Why tell him she was a hair’s breadth from orgasm just at the sight of his body?

“Tinkerbelle,” he responded throatily, and he reached out to reclaim her. “Or should I call you Aphrodite? Do you have any idea how enthralling you look with the water cascading over your hair and body?” His hands slowly traced her braced arms, starting from her fingers, over her wrists, under her arms, tracing the sensitive skin there and setting her alight in ways the water could never douse. At her upper ribcage, he paused, hands resting tortuously on the sides of her breasts. In slow, excruciating circles, he massaged her flesh while with his mouth feasted on the smooth skin of her throat.

“Ahhh,” she moaned, her head rolling back to rest on his shoulder.

His probing tongue charted a path of fire up her throat and flicked over the pulse which hammered there. Her stomach muscles quivered. Jagged pleasure coursed through her, and her knees sagged again.

The need to make him feel what she was feeling became paramount, but with his command to keep her hands on the wall, she only had her body. Arching, she rubbed against him, her ass cupping his shaft in an eloquent caress. He growled, an involuntary jerk twisting his hips.

“You’re playing with fire, Aphrodite,” he husked in her ear, his firm hands finally coming around to cup and mold her breasts. She gasped, the sensation of his rough palm against her sensitive nipples threatening her very sanity. But she wasn’t beaten yet.

“And what are you going to do about it?” she whispered through the waves of need crashing over her as, with clever fingers, he teased the tips to hard nubs.

“See what I meant earlier? There’s nothing biddable about you, baby. You have a fierce, unquenchable fire inside, and I aim to let it burn me up over and over.”

One hand fisted her wet hair and tilted her face around to his. His tongue invaded her mouth, wrapping hers in its heat and boldly staking its claim. He tasted of surging sea and potent wine, a heady combination that sent her senses spinning. His fingers continued to wreak havoc with her nipples. Her hands slipped from the wall as pleasure suffused her, but with the instincts of a jungle cat, he sensed her weakening and paused in his invasion. “Keep your hands where they are. If they slip, you will be punished.”

She didn’t know if it was the intensely arousing cadence of his voice or the sensual promise of his words that triggered the downward spiral, but she was moments away from losing control.