Fifteen minutes of hard riding brought her to the stable yard. She reined the horse to a sliding halt, foam flicking back as he tossed his head. The young boy she’d glimpsed earlier cleaning stalls came out at the sound of the clattering hooves. Sam threw him the reins. “Here, take care of him. See that he gets an extra measure of oats.”
She hit the ground at a run, tearing into the back door of the house and nearly colliding with Aunt Olivia. “Samantha, what’s the matter?”
“We’re leaving, Aunt Olivia,” Sam said, adrenaline pumping in her blood. She held up her clothes, which she’d grabbed from the cloakroom. “Get the car ready. I’m just going to change.”
The lock on the bathroom door gave her no more than an illusion of safety. She scrambled out of the borrowed clothes and into her own, stuffing her stockings into her pocket rather than take the time to pull them on.
But when she came out it was already too late. Bennett stood in the hall, with Aunt Olivia beside him. Whether Olivia was involved in every aspect of Bennett’s shady affairs, Sam didn’t know, but her comments about the wisdom of marriage to Bennett came rushing back. In that, she was completely with Bennett. And against Sam.
“Samantha, can’t you go along with it?” Aunt Olivia pleaded, and Sam could have sworn she saw tears in her eyes.
“Don’t you see what he is, Aunt Olivia? He’s deceiving all of us. He’s been lying all along.”
“You let him down,” Olivia said. Her voice softened. “Sam, can’t you just pretend for a little while? It would be so much easier. Bennett has made a few mistakes in the past, but with you and the respectability of Smith Industries behind him, everyone will forget that. Please, Samantha, just for a year or two, until Paul gets into power in Ottawa.”
“A year or two,” Sam said scornfully. “Do you really think you can get a virtual unknown into power in that time? What are you, Bennett, a magician that you can depose a solid political leader in that time? Voters have the final say, not you.”
“The higher the position, the harder the fall.” Bennett sounded unperturbed, almost bored. “We all know what a precarious perch it can be.”
“Well, I don’t want anything to do with it,” Sam retorted. “And I refuse to lend my support to any candidate you might want in office.”
Clenching his fists, he took a step toward her, his face turning red with rage. With a worried frown, Olivia laid her hand on his arm. “Please, Bennett, there’s no need to get upset. I’m sure Samantha will change her mind once she’s thought about it.”
His anger vanished under a mask of control. Only the glitter in his eyes betrayed his true feelings, but he instantly shuttered them behind lowered lids. “You’re right, of course, Olivia.”
The smile he threw Sam looked more like a snarl, but she defiantly refused to drop her gaze. “Come on, ladies. Shall we go to lunch?”
Lunch? The thought of eating at Bennett’s table turned Sam’s stomach. “I seem to have developed a headache,” she said, not caring if either of them believed her. “Is there some place where I can rest?”
She had to get out of there. She wouldn’t put it past Bennett to keep her prisoner, if he thought it would serve his purposes.
Instantly Aunt Olivia was the picture of concern. “Poor dear. I’ll take you to a guest bedroom, and bring you some aspirin.”
Protecting the valuable commodity, Sam thought with black irony as she lay in the cool bedroom. She listened to the indistinguishable murmur of voices downstairs. She hadn’t taken the aspirin, fearing they would make her sleepy. Escape might not be possible, but if an opportunity presented itself she wanted her wits about her.
She waited ten minutes, then inched the door open. The stairs led to the front hall. Judging from the clatter of cutlery against china, they were eating in the dining room, out of sight of the door. If she could get out on the road, she could walk to the village they’d passed, about two kilometers away, and catch a bus or a taxi back to Paris.
Late summer heat and the drowsy twittering of birds filled the garden as she tiptoed down the path. She paused at the gate, looking around. No sign of human presence.
She reached for the latch but before she could touch it, a large masculine hand clamped down on hers. Stifling a startled cry, she spun around. The chauffeur stood in front of her. “Mr. Price wants you to wait for your aunt,” he said.
“This is outrageous.” Sam jerked her hand free and wiped it on her skirt.
She marched up the path toward the house, conscious of the man’s hard eyes on her back. Storming into the dining room, she slammed her palms down on the end of the table and glared at the two people sitting there. “Bennett, what’s the meaning of this? I’d like to leave. Right now.”
“Darling, you can go as soon as we’ve finished lunch.” Rising from his chair, Bennett came around the table and laid a hand on her shoulder. Sam shook it off with a shudder of loathing.
“Samantha, we’ll leave now, if that’s what you want.” Aunt Olivia’s hands fluttered agitatedly.
The look Sam cast Bennett was murderous. “Good. I’ll wait outside.”
On the front step she paused, her shoulders sagging as the anger that had buoyed her died. Behind her she could hear Bennett and Olivia talking in low voices, about her aberrant behavior no doubt. A new flare of rage sped briefly through her. Did he really think he could keep her a prisoner, or force her to cooperate with his devious plans?
She sank down on a bench next to the door, clenching her hands in her lap. What was Bennett after? Her money? He stood to get very little of it, whether they were married or not. Besides, hadn’t he said business was booming?
She heard footsteps on the tile floor, the voices coming closer, still low but suddenly she heard Olivia mention Tony. “He could be a problem. Sam—”
Bennett interrupted, his tone soothing. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
They came out onto the step and Sam stood up, her pose defiant. “Oh, there you are, Samantha,” Aunt Olivia said calmly, her poise restored. “Shall we go?” She turned to an impassive Bennett. “Thank you, Bennett. You’ll be in touch?”
Bennett smiled faintly, a marginal relaxing of the muscles around his mouth. “You can count on it. Goodbye, Sam. You’ll think about what we discussed, won’t you?”
“I don’t need to think,” Samantha snapped. “You already know the answer. It’s no.
N-o
—no.”
Bennett shrugged in apparent unconcern. “Give it a day or two, Sam. You might change your mind.”
Fat chance, Sam thought as she and Olivia walked down the path to the waiting car.
The drive back to the Etoile was uneventful. Sam stretched her stiff muscles as she got out of the car, working out the cramps they’d developed from tension.
Going up in the elevator, Aunt Olivia made yet another attempt to soothe Sam’s feelings. “Samantha, if you’d rather, we can go back to London tonight. I can change the tickets if there are seats available.” She frowned. “That may be a problem, though.”
“Let me know if there’s anything,” Sam said. “I think the weekend’s been spoiled for me.”
Olivia touched Sam’s arm. “Samantha, please. Bennett means well. He needs you.”
“For what?” Sam said more coldly than she’d ever spoken to her aunt.
But Olivia didn’t answer, merely saying, “Give him a chance, Sam. That’s all I ask. And that’s all Bennett asks.”
“Later, Aunt Olivia.” Sam exhaled noisily. “We’ll discuss it later.”
In her room she went straight to the telephone. She was under no illusion that leaving would be simple. Bennett would try again. She dialed the manager’s office, expecting to find Tony there. The phone was picked up almost at once. Sam didn’t wait for a greeting. “Tony, I need your help.”
A man’s voice, strongly accented, answered. “I’m sorry. Monsieur Theopoulos is not in, but we expect him momentarily. Is there a message?”
Sam thought quickly. By the time she packed Tony would probably be back. “Tell him Sam called. Ask him to meet me at the front door of the hotel. Oh, and please have my bill ready.”
“Mademoiselle.” The man sounded shocked. “You’re not leaving already.”
“I have to,” Sam said. “I’ll be down shortly.”
Within five minutes she was back in the lobby, handing her Visa card to the desk clerk. Shifting from one foot to the other she waited in an agony of impatience while he processed it and gave her the slip to sign.
Where was Tony? She scrawled her signature, her eyes panning the entrance to the dining room, the segment of hall that she could see, the front door.
“Voilà, mademoiselle. Merci
.”
She tucked the card and her copy of the slip into her handbag. Still no Tony. Picking up her bag, she headed for the door. She would just have to hail a taxi outside.
The door had barely closed behind her when she saw Bennett running toward her, closely followed by the man who’d driven their car. Damn, Bennett must have followed them back to the city.
Running to the curb, she dashed between the parked cars and put out her hand for a taxi, waving desperately. From the corner of her eye she could see Bennett coming nearer. She stepped farther out. A speeding Mercedes swerved to avoid hitting her. The driver leaned on his horn and threw her a disgusted look.
Bennett had almost reached her when a tiny gray Peugeot roared to a stop in front of her, nearly crushing her toes. Tony. Relief flooded her, but before she could move, a heavy hand grabbed her arm. “Samantha, you’re coming with us.”
“No.” She struggled against Bennett’s hold. “You said I’d have time to think about it.”
“You’re running away again.”
“I’m only going out for a little while,” she insisted, but the overnight bag she carried was silent evidence of the lie.
She heard Tony shouting at her from the open passenger door of the little car. “Quick, Sam, get in.”
Bennett tightened his grip. Even when she swung the bag and kicked at his shins, she couldn’t get free.
The traffic roared by, almost skinning the paint off the driver’s side of Tony’s car. Teeth grinding in frustration, he tried to open the door, to get out and go to her.
“Tony.” He heard her thin cry, fragile as a thread. The two men were pulling her back, toward a black car parked three cars ahead. Damn, wasn’t there anyone on the street who could see what was happening and help her?
With a twist of his body, he scrambled over the gear lever and burst out from the passenger door, painfully barking his shin and nearly crashing onto the pavement in the process. Limping, he lurched toward the other car.
Incredibly Sam had broken free. “Sam, here,” Tony yelled.
“I wouldn’t.” Bennett’s voice dripped with menace.
Sam’s terrified glance bounced from Tony to the gun in Bennett’s hand. She hesitated, her eyes wide with horror.
“Sam, quick.” It was a risk but one he had to take.
He grabbed the bag she still held, and her hand. Together they raced back to his car. Tossing the case into the back seat, Tony pushed Sam in, slamming the door. Leaping over the hood, he yanked open the driver’s door as an approaching car screeched to a stop.
Shoving the little car into gear, he floored the accelerator. The force of the start banged his own door shut and in the moment before the stopped car could get moving, Tony executed a wild U-turn. Behind them the man with the gun shook his fist, but he didn’t shoot. Smiling grimly, Tony turned his attention from the rearview mirror to the road.
“I take it that was Bennett.” He stopped for a traffic light, shifting gears and accelerating as it changed to green. “What the hell’s he doing here?”
Samantha’s breath rushed in and out of her lungs, a raw agony in her throat. “Don’t know—for—sure. Following—me—I think.”
“How’d he know where you were?”
She slumped down, pulling the seat belt across her chest and clipping it into place. “Aunt Olivia took me to see him.”
“Uh-huh, so she’s in on it, too.”
Samantha’s brow creased. “I’m not sure. She seemed to be doing only what she thought would be best for me.”
Tony made a rude noise. “Come on, Sam, you can’t believe that. You’re an adult.”
“Well, she’s always been like a mother to me,” Sam said defensively. “She wants me to be settled. And she likes Bennett.”
“Which doesn’t say much for her taste.”
Sam stared at the traffic-clogged street. “To her, Bennett is every woman’s dream, good looking, successful, rich.”
“And if he married you, he’d be richer.”
The implications of what Bennett had said suddenly hit her like a punch in the stomach. “Tony, he says he can make it look as if we are married.”
“What?” Tony made a right turn that must have inconvenienced several drivers, judging by the shriek of brakes and the blare of horns behind them. He slammed the little car to a halt on a quiet side street. “Tell me exactly what he told you.”
Her voice shaking, Sam explained about the certificate.
Tony drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel. “It’s possible, if he knew the right people. But I don’t know if it would stand up in court. I wonder what he’s after.”
“He wants to make the marriage a real one, but I don’t see why.”
“Your money.”
Sam banged her fist on the armrest next to her. “Damn it, Tony, can’t you quit harping on that? He doesn’t stand to gain that much.”
“Still, it seems the only viable motive at this point. What does your aunt have to say about all this?”
“She wants the same as Bennett.” Sam gnawed on her lip. “In fact she practically begged me to go along with Bennett, if only for a little while.”
Tony turned toward Sam, drawn by the desolate note in her voice. He could understand what she was going through. The fright of the attempted abduction—or whatever Bennett had had in mind, the lack of support from her only living relative. She must feel betrayed on every side.
He took her hand in his. It felt cold, lifeless. “What did you tell her?”
“I told both of them no.” She looked at Tony, her eyes dark and stricken. “Bennett wouldn’t take that for an answer, but she made him agree to give me some time. It’s obvious Bennett must have changed his mind.”
“Probably didn’t want to act in front of your aunt. Which means she’s probably not in as deep as she could be.”