Hostage to Love (Entangled Suspense) (24 page)

Demetra knocked on the door five minutes later, clutching the armful of candles Belle had requested.

“
Efkharisto
.” Belle smiled her thanks.

The old woman gave her a sad smile in return, and muttered in Greek.

“I’m all right, I promise,” Belle reassured her.

“
Ne
,
ne
,” the housekeeper agreed, reaching out to pat her hand. Then with another watery smile, she handed over the candles and left.

Belle headed for the bathroom, where she’d placed several more candles.

Handmade by a specialist on the neighboring island of Santorini, the sensual candles she’d chosen on her visit to his shop during her honeymoon had never been used. As a young newlywed, not totally comfortable with her sexuality, she’d more often than not chickened out when it came to making the first move in the bedroom. The candles had never been given a proper outing.

Tonight she had every intention of using them.

She placed the smaller candles on the bedside tables and the larger ones on the floor in their holders. One by one she lit them, inhaling the exotic fragrance of amyris, saffron, and crushed rose petals.

In the bathroom, she rubbed on a small amount of the luxurious body cream she’d purchased from the same shop, enjoying the pearlescent glow it gave her skin. Next, she slipped into a floor-length negligee.

Looking down at the diaphanous garment, she almost blushed at the sight of her aroused nipples peeking through the gauzy peach material. Not quite ready to look farther down, she picked up her hairbrush and ran it through her hair, letting the repetitive motion calm her heating senses.

Finally, she returned to the bedroom and, careful to avoid the naked flames of the candles, sat down on the bed and reached behind her neck. Unclasping the chain, she let the skin-warmed rings fall into her palm.

…

Nick took the stairs three at a time. His heart hammered a wild beat as he approached the bedroom door. He forced himself to slow down and, with another deep breath, tried to regulate his breathing so as not to give himself away.

The snaking fear that had seized him when he’d entered the living room to find the French doors still open but Belle nowhere in sight snapped like a live electric wire. Although logic told him she would likely be upstairs, he couldn’t dismiss the irrational fear.

He turned the doorknob, and his anxiety vanished.

She sat in the middle of their bed, an ethereal vision, surrounded by candlelight and rich, exotic scent. His hand shook so hard the doorknob rattled. Dear God, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

That alien emotion was back again, tightening around his chest, making his breath snag in his lungs. This time when his heart ground to a halt and resumed hammering with thunderous force, it wasn’t driven by fear, but by the intensity of his need for this woman. His Tinkerbelle.

Without realizing he’d moved, he arrived at the foot of the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers.

In a sinuous move that made his throat dry and his cock harden, she swayed upward, rising to her knees. Her lower lip caught between her teeth, she reached out her hands to him.

Again his heart stopped. A violent tremor shook his frame when he saw the rings glittering on her finger.

His eyes flew back to her darkened blue gaze, where what looked suspiciously like tears glistened on her lashes. “Is this what I think?” He paused, almost afraid to ask the question out loud.

She gave one shaky nod, causing his heart to hammer anew. “Yes, my husband,” she confirmed. “It is.”

…

Belle saw a raw emotion she couldn’t name spread across Nick’s face as he swallowed visibly. He reached out to take her hands. Bringing them to his lips, he kissed the rings before kissing each knuckle.

Then he pulled her to him and, for the longest time, held her tight, the only sound the fierce pounding of his heart beating as one with hers.

At last he pulled away and, looking deep into her eyes, said, “You have made me the happiest man alive,
yineka mou
, and for as long as I live, I will make sure you don’t regret your decision.”

A sob caught in her throat, but before a single tear could fall, he kissed her with such adoration, thoughts of tears were immediately forgotten. “I intend to hold you to that promise,” she whispered.

Her eager hands winding themselves around his shoulders and bringing him home to her, she kissed him back with equal fervor. She felt him tremble…or was that her? She lost all thought as Nick’s tongue caressed hers, his groans of need matching hers. She reached for his clothes, her hands working to divest him of his clothes.

In the end, he took over, disrobing first himself, then her, while murmuring soft Greek words she didn’t understand.

She started to follow him when he pulled her down on the bed, until she remembered
she
was the seducer tonight. With strength she didn’t know she possessed, she reversed their positions.

Nick’s look of surprise disappeared when she proceeded to utilize all the expertise she’d learned from him.

But, being a man most comfortable in the dominant position, he soon took the lead.

He made love to her with such gentleness, such thoroughness through the night, all other thoughts were wiped clean from her mind.

Chapter Fourteen

The Andreakos jet took off just after nine o’clock the next morning, winging its way to Athens. Despite the frightening intrusion of Richard Francis and Mwana’s gunmen, she hated leaving behind the paradise she’d called home for over two weeks.

She sighed when the island became an insignificant dot far below, but her sadness gave way to elation when Nick’s hand gripped hers, pulling her attention from the window.

Looking into the clear gray of his eyes, a jolt went through her at how much she loved him. Without pausing to think, she laid a hand on his cheek, leaned forward and kissed him—a quick kiss, which grew all the more special when his mouth immediately clung to hers. When she pulled away, she read surprise in his eyes.

“What was that for?” he asked huskily.

“Does a wife need an excuse to kiss her husband?”

He smiled. “No, but I know there’s no such thing as a free lunch.” He winked.

Laughing, she replied. “Take it as an extra sweetener to hold you to your promise to bring us back to Althea soon.”

His smile dimmed and his eyes turned serious. “I won’t break that promise or any other promises I have made to you,
matia mou
. We’ll return to Althea soon, when it’s safe again.” Picking up her hand, he kissed her palm to seal his promise.

Tears, an ever-threatening presence lately, welled up in her eyes again. She blinked them away. Right now, at this exact moment in time, she was so happy she felt she’d burst.

For one thing, Nick was ecstatic their marriage was back on track. This morning, during the hurried breakfast they’d shared, she’d looked up more than once to find his gaze on the rings, an extremely satisfied look on his face. During the night, she’d woken up to find her left hand clasped firmly in his over his heart as he slept. Tears had threatened then, too.

Whether heartache came with the future or not, she was confident she’d made the right decision.

Halfway through the short flight, Nick excused himself and closeted himself with the five security men who’d boarded the plane with them. The sight of their guns sent a niggle of unease through her. To distract herself, she picked up a magazine and flicked through it.

When Nick returned just before landing, his face was set in a pensive look that sent another shiver down her spine. Under his dark pinstripe suit, his shoulders were tense and his jaw clenched.

She put down the magazine. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been informed the press is waiting at the airport and camped outside our apartment. Since we’re landing at a private tarmac, we should be able to evade them with minimal fuss. However, I think the press conference should be held sooner rather than later. I’d scheduled it for tomorrow morning, but I think under the circumstances, it’s better to bring it forward.” He looked at her, concern stamped on his features. “Will you be able to cope?” he asked.

As long as he was there with her, she’d get through anything. “Yes. Let’s get it over with,” she responded.

He gave a warm smile of approval and nodded to one of the men seated a few rows behind them. The man picked up the phone and spoke in low tones, presumably to give the go-ahead for the press conference.

Trying to tamp down her nervousness, she took courage in the fact that at least her clothes reflected her stature as Mrs. Nick Andreakos. The sea-green pressed linen suit was one she’d never worn. The skirt ended just above her knee, the design understated but elegant, and she’d teamed it with a cream silk camisole, cream sling-back shoes, and a Prada clutch. Much to Nick’s very vocal objection, she’d put her hair up, securing it with a large clip. The chain she’d worn with her rings and small diamond stud earrings completed the ensemble.

When the Athens skyline came into view, her nervousness increased. This was her first foray into Nick’s world in almost seven months. The last thing she looked forward to was being pounced on by a pack of hungry paparazzi.

“You’ll be fine, baby.”

…

A
THENS,
G
REECE

At the airport, Belle and Nick were whisked into a waiting limo and driven straight to the headquarters of Andreakos Shipping.

Belle spent the next hour answering what seemed like a thousand questions. With each passing second, her heart hammered.

The questions were harmless enough, prompting her to be lulled into a state of false security. But the tone soon changed.

One reporter in particular, a sleazy type in an ill-fitting corduroy suit and a comb-over pointed a well-chewed pen at her. “Did you put yourself deliberately in harm’s way to draw attention to yourself, Mrs. Andreakos?”

Shock rendered her speechless for several seconds. Then annoyance made her snap, “Of course not.”

Turning to Nick, she saw the deadly look he directed at the man, who slunk lower in his chair and pretended to scribble furiously on his notepad.

But, as if a gate had been thrown open, the questions came thick and fast: Were you having an affair with the Dutch man, Morgensen? Why did your parents think you were on holiday? Where have you been for the last six months? Are you and your husband separating?

Nick smoothly handled several of the questions, giving the reporters no doubt as to the state of their marriage. A few moments later, his PR man stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. That will be all for now.”

Belle’s relief was overwhelming as she was escorted out of the conference room by a stone-faced Nick.

She tried to ignore the ravenous pack still shouting out questions at them.

“Mrs. Andreakos, the man who captured you is wanted by Interpol for various kidnappings and is known to sexually assault his female captors. Why were you spared?”

“The Dutch couple said you were instrumental in saving them from being killed. Do you have a savior-complex, Mrs. Andreakos?”

“Do you believe sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good? Like say, sacrificing a bishop to save a pawn?”

She stumbled, her hand slipping from Nick’s as her words to Mwana during their last chess game slipped from the reporter’s vile lips.

Nick caught her and clamped her to his side. “What is it?”

The ice that invaded her veins made her shiver uncontrollably. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

“Never mind. I’m getting you out of here. Now.”

At the continued barrage, Nick threw a terse “no comment” over his shoulder and led her out of the room and into the waiting elevator. Caught in a mental fog, she couldn’t register anything except Nick’s strong arms as he escorted her out of the building and into another limo.

In the car, she tried to hide her shaking hands in her lap, turning to look out of the window as they headed toward Nick’s city apartment. When he placed a firm hand over hers, she focused to find steely gray eyes on her.

“I think our conversation at the springs yesterday needs further elaboration.”

Her heart plummeted. “It was nothing, Nick. Maybe I’m just imagining things.”

“Or maybe not. I saw your reaction to that last question. As soon as we get to the apartment, I want to know, Tinkerbelle.” His tone brooked no argument. But then he added, “Please?”

“Y—yes.” She nodded.

He poured a glass of water and held it out to her. Grateful for something to do, she accepted the drink.

Nick’s apartment, like everything else in his life, was top class and drowning in opulence. Housed in an exclusive hotel, the luxurious six-bedroom penthouse sat atop one of Athens’ small hills, overlooking the haunting beauty of the Acropolis.

Tastefully decorated in shades of deep reds and soft creams, the airy rooms were elegant and comfortable but furnished to highlight Nick’s wealth and success.

Their luggage had been deposited in the master bedroom, and in silence, they changed into more casual clothes before Nick led her back to the sitting room.

“Do you want another drink?” he enquired with a lift of his brow.

“Just water, thanks.”

He moved to the drinks cabinet and came back with a glass, seating himself next to her on the plush cream sofa with wine for himself.

The taut silence that ensued lasted less than a minute, but in that time, her nerves frayed with acute rawness.

When he set his glass down, untouched, on the table, she jumped at the sound.

“I know this isn’t easy to talk about, baby, but we have to deal with this. I can’t help you get past it if I don’t know what happened,” he insisted.

She looked into his eyes, drawing strength from the gentle encouragement in them.

“That reporter…what he said about sacrificing for the greater good…the reference to the bishop…I had that discussion with Mwana. Nick, there was no one else there at the time, just the two of us.”