Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
N ick tensed. “Not if I have anything to do with it.” “What does that mean?” Belle asked.
He hated lying to her, but hell, she’d been back in his life less than twenty-four hours and was already traumatized from what had happened to her. He tried for the middle ground. “I don’t want to alarm you, simply because I don’t have all the facts yet.” “Facts on what?” she pressed.
“On what exactly we’re dealing with.”
Her soft lips pursed. “For God’s sake, Nick, stop being so damned cryptic! What’s going on?”
His hand tightened around his wine glass. “When my men looked around the caves, we found a few things we’re still working through.”
“What sort of things?”
Nick swallowed down the fury that rose every time he thought of it. “There was a room with pictures—lots of pictures— displayed. Of you.” He took a fortifying sip of wine.
Stunning blue eyes widened. “Of me? He had a few in another hut he took us to, but—you think I was his primary target?”
“I don’t think . I know you were.” His forceful answer made
her pale. He cursed under his breath. “It’s over, baby. No harm will come to you here.”
He glimpsed the naked relief in her eyes and told himself he was doing the right thing in withholding information that Mwana in all likelihood hadn’t given up his hunt for her. No need to scare her unnecessarily.
When she popped a piece of feta into her mouth, he breathed easier. “You didn’t say how you found me.”
“I applied the best intel and resources to the problem and achieved the desired result. Nothing else matters. Now, tell me, how’s the moussaka ?”
“It’s delicious,” she responded automatically. He watched her take a few unenthusiastic mouthfuls, then she laid her fork down.
“ Baklava ?” He pushed the dessert toward her. She’d grown too thin in the last six months and lost some of the voluptuousness he’d loved about her. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself when she declined and opted for a cup of tea.
By now the sky was covered with a blanket of stars against a velvet background. She leaned back in her seat and gazed into the heavens. This far from civilization, the stars were clearly visible on a night like this. He knew she’d always found the island breathtakingly beautiful, but her sigh was far from contented.
“A penny for them?” he murmured, then wondered why he wished to know her thoughts when he was still reeling from the conversation they’d had just before dinner.
She lowered her eyes to his. His stomach clenched at the misery he saw in the depths.
“Keep your penny. My thoughts aren’t worth it. Not to you anyway.”
The words felt like knives piercing him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She set the cup down with a telling rattle. “It means if you’d cared about me at all, Nick, you wouldn’t have married me under false pretences. And you certainly wouldn’t have stayed away for the last six months.”
She pushed back her chair and threw down her napkin.
Nick made a conscious effort to relax his fingers around the wineglass before he shattered it. Leaning back in his seat, he forced himself to stay put rather than go after her.
Watching her limp away from him, bristling and hurt, tested his willpower. But to go after her now would only yield further recrimination—and make shambles of their newly formed truce.
But her words cut deep. Did she have any idea of the torture he’d gone through when he’d found out she was missing, the relief he’d felt when he held her safe in his arms?
He cursed fluently under his breath. His plans to get his wife back in his life would take longer to execute than he’d anticipated.
Sighing, he looked up at the stars she’d gazed at a moment ago, seeking divine inspiration. The heavens just winked at him in mocking luminosity.
Restless, he got up and paced the terrace. It was still early, not even nine o’clock, but the thought of working to take his mind off the woman probably now climbing into what used to be their bed didn’t appeal. Wanton images of the rapture they’d shared there filled his mind, making him grow hot and hard.
Shit . He’d already had one cold shower today and foresaw quite a few more before things got better between him and Belle.
Action. That’s what he needed. He looked toward the western part of the island, where three of the twelve-man security crew were camped. Taking out his phone, he called Jameson.
“Everything all right?” he asked, almost wishing there was something, anything to sink his teeth into, help him burn off the irrational anxiety roiling through him.
“A couple of boats sailed by a little too close earlier. But we dispatched them quickly. It’s all quiet here.”
Nick rang off. Then he activated his phone again and checked his messages.
Buried in the sea of business-related questions and requests for his time was one that made him frown. Closing the app, he pressed three on his speed dial.
His executive assistant answered on the first ring.
“This Richard Francis, when did he call?” Nick asked, the hairs on his neck rising. He didn’t believe in coincidence. Never had. And a Central Africa-based reporter sniffing around so soon after Belle’s capture didn’t sit right with him.
He heard the faint sound of keys being tapped, then Spiros said, “Two hours ago. I tried to direct him to the press office, but he was insistent that he be put through to you. I refused, of course.” He paused. “Should I have done otherwise?”
“No,” Nick murmured, his mind churning. “What did he want exactly?”
“He said he works for the Daily Bugle in London, and that you’d want to talk to him. Oh, and he asked me to mention a name to you.”
“What name?”
“Mwana.”
Nick barely managed to hang onto his glass as cold dread spread icy fingers through his body.
Belle fought against the ties that bound her, but the harder she fought, the tighter they got. Her wrists were raw and bleeding, but she pulled harder.
The fire drew closer, clogging her throat, blocking her airways.
No!
Terror exploded within her as the flames morphed into a giant figure, the acrid blaze reaching out like a colossal hand to capture her.
No!
She reeled backwards and opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. The figure came closer, its volcanic heat scorching her.
Twisting wildly, she whimpered. “Wake up.”
The sinister voice of her captor made her fight harder.
“ Belle, wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”
She heard a muffled oath as her arm struck hard flesh. The sound spurred her on. With one last, choking gasp, she screamed.
Belle came awake instantly, her panting breaths harsh in her ears as she opened her eyes. She couldn’t move. Her nightgown and legs were tangled in the sheets, and strong arms were wrapped around her. Still caught in the remnants of her nightmare, she tried to pull away.
“ Shhh , it’s all right. I’ve got you now,” a much softer voice than the one in her dream murmured.
Slowly, the familiar seeped in—warm bed, soft glow of bedside lamps, the steady hum of the air-conditioner. And a firm, bare chest pressed against her cheek.
“You’re home, in bed. You’re safe, baby,” Nick reassured her.
“How—What happened?” Why was he here? she wanted to ask.
“You screamed. A nightmare, I’m guessing?” Kind hands smoothed through her hair, soothing her.
She nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it? It might help.”
“No,” she croaked, unwilling to relive the horrible dream.
“Okay. I’ll get you some water.” After a moment, he let go and stepped back. She watched him walk to the door, and fear assailed her.
Don’t leave me, she wanted to scream but she held her tongue.
She needed to start standing on her own two feet, nightmare or no bloody nightmare. She sat up and fought to regain her composure. By the time he walked through the door, she’d put her nightgown back in place, and the hands she’d run through her hair were folded in her lap.
Expecting him to hand over the glass of water and leave, she almost choked on her first sip when he pulled up a chair and sat down. “What are you doing?”
“I always find company helps after a bad dream.”
“You’ve had nightmares?” She couldn’t quite mask her surprise.
A wry smile whispered over his lips. “I’ve had one or two in my time, believe it or not.”
And he’d probably had a warm, nubile body next to him to help erase the unpleasantness. The thought hurt more than she wanted it to. She clenched her hand to hide its trembling.
“Well, I’ll be fine, so feel free to return to…whatever you were doing.”
“I was in bed next door, but I wasn’t asleep.”
“You’re next door?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Where did you expect me to be?”
“At the opposite end of the wing,” she blurted.
She tried not to let the thought of Nick sleeping so close by bother her, tried to ignore the frisson of awareness that shot through her at the thought that he’d been lying awake only a few feet away. She tried harder not to think of the Nick who’d slept in the nude during their marriage.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he replied.
I’m not disappointed. The words didn’t spill out, for which she was thankful.
Unable to stop herself, her gaze travelled over him. He’d donned a T-shirt over silk boxers, but that didn’t stop her from recalling the sight of his hair-roughened chest and the way it’d felt pressed against her minutes ago. Her heart thudded, this time to a different sensation, born not of fear but arousal. Lowering her eyes, she glanced at his thighs—taut and muscle-bound, and again sprinkled with silky hair. At the sight of his bare feet, her stomach somersaulted. She swallowed around a tight throat and raised her eyes to find his on her, a banked fire in their depths sending an undeniable pang through her body.
“Thanks for the water. Don’t let me keep you.” She put the glass down, hoping the dismissive move would send him on his way.
He merely shook his head, but his movements were jerky, a tension hovering over him as he frowned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you alone. I’ll stay. Try and go back to sleep.”
From somewhere she managed to summon a laugh. “Not a chance.”
One brow shot up. “Am I a distraction?”
“Not by half! You’re sitting there like some overprotective bear, and whatever was bothering you earlier has obviously still got you fired up…” When he didn’t take up the veiled invitation to share, she sighed. “Fine, let’s both choose the strong-and-silent route.”
“We could be very English and banal and talk about the weather? Or art?”
“It’s half past two in the morning. I don’t have much need for the weather. Or art for that matter.” She sank back into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “But I do need my sleep, I guess. You don’t have to, but if you want to stay, it’s up to you.
Goodnight.”
“ Kalinihta, pethi mou ,” he murmured.
The endearment brought sharp tears to her eyes. Lowering her lids so he wouldn’t see, she turned away from him and concentrated on regulating her breathing. Hopefully, she could fool him into thinking she’d gone back to sleep so he’d leave. Because there was no way she could sleep with him there. No way.
Sunlight sneaking around the cracks in her curtain woke her
just after nine the next morning. Her gaze flew to the chair by her bedside.
It was empty.
“God, I haven’t slipped into a time warp, have I? Only I could’ve sworn Monday was a few days off yet.”
The sound of Liz’s voice soothed Belle’s ruffled nerves, although she knew the feeling wouldn’t last, not once her best friend realized where she was calling from.
“Nope, you haven’t fallen into a vortex. And…I’m not in Nawaka. Not anymore.”
“You’re back home? Excellent. Wine and pizza are on me
Sunday night. Seven okay with you?—?”
“I’m not back home, Liz. I’m in Greece. On Althea.”
The silence that met her declaration made her heart clench.
“You’re back with Nick? After what he did to you?” Her perplexed tone came through loud and clear.
“I’m not back with him. It’s not like that.”
“Tell me what it’s like. Dammit , Belle, don’t forget I watched you turn yourself inside out for him in six short months, and it still wasn’t enough. He made you miserable, and now you tell me you’re back there?—”
“I was kidnapped, Liz. Nick came to rescue me.” She rushed the words, unwilling to be reminded just how much she’d diminished herself for the sake of her marriage.
“Wait. You were what ?”
Pulling in a sustained breath, Belle quickly rehashed her ordeal.
“And Nick came to get you?”
“Nick and Alex and a bunch of guys I wouldn’t want to meet in an alley on a dark night. Or the middle of the day, for that matter.”
“Alex, huh? I guess he’s good for something after all…” Her voice drifted off for a second, then she cleared her throat briskly. “I still don’t get why you’re there and not here.”
She gripped the phone tighter. “I…I agreed to stay here for a while…to recover.”
“You agreed?” Suspicion bristled in her tone, rousing a touch of irritation in Belle.
“Yes, it was my decision. I’d rather not face anyone right now, at least not the damned paparazzi. Right or wrong, I’m staying here until I’m ready to come home, okay?”
“I guess.” Her voice softened a touch. “Sweetie, don’t get me wrong, I only want what’s best for you. For your own sake, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I know you have my back. I just wanted you to know where I am so you wouldn’t worry when you called Nawaka on Monday.”
She hung up shortly after, promising to call again soon. But the unease didn’t leave her as she set the phone down on the table next to the poolside lounger and picked up the book she hoped would distract her from her chaotic thoughts.
“Are you all right, Tinkerbelle?” The throaty voice sounded somewhere close to her left shoulder, and she immediately went on the offensive, fighting to dispel the unwanted rush of pleasure she experienced every time Nick came close.
“I’ve told you not to call me that, goodness knows how many times. Why won’t you listen?” she snapped. She lowered the book, her annoyance escalated both by the interruption of her reading and her shortened breath with every step he took closer to her.
“I use your full name because I know no matter how much you protest to the contrary, you like it.” His words tumbled lazily into the dappled sunlight, like pearls dropping onto smooth silk.
Her very brief idyll shattered, she grew painfully aware of her near-naked state in the minuscule white bikini she wore. She pulled up her legs against her torso to hide the telltale peaking of her nipples. She speared him an accusatory look, which he ignored. With easy grace, he lowered himself onto the poolside lounger next to hers.
Thinking he’d be closeted in his study as he had been most afternoons for the past five days, she’d decided to spend the afternoon relaxing by the pool. Now she wished she’d stayed indoors, fully clothed and immune to the arousal he inspired.
She watched him lean back, cross his ankles, and tilt his face to the warming sun. He was dressed in casual khaki shorts and a white T-shirt, and her mouth went dry at the gorgeous display of hair-dusted thighs, calves, and arms. She shifted to ease the disconcerting tingling between her thighs and looked away.
“Well, you’re wrong, and I’d thank you to remember my name is Belle, not…not?—”
He breathed in deeply, his eyes glinting at her. “Tinkerbelle? And what about you, hmm ? Do you remember your other names? In particular your married name? Or did you decide to forget all about it while you were embarking on your suicide mission in Africa?” Gone was the husky laziness his tone. In its place came a note of barely repressed anger as his legs swung off the lounger. He turned to face her, muscled arms resting on his knees.
She stopped herself from drawing back from the fierce light in his eyes. “Yep, that was my aim. To go where I was wanted and valued and forget I was ever foolish enough to take the Andreakos name!” Self-protection made her wrap her hands around her legs as she tried to ward off the pain that flooded her insides.
“Watch your tongue, eros mou .” The frosty warning dripped into her thoughts, and she blinked to find Nick regarding her with eyes the colour of polished gunmetal. She ignored his advice, her angry focus on the one painful, mocking word.
“Don’t call me that! I was never your love , you bastard, nor am I now.”
He frowned. “It’s just a harmless term, baby. Calm down.” His response only served to anger her further. “Of course it is. Because you never loved me enough to mean it.”
Tension snapped in the air. The skin around his lips whitened as he pressed his lips firmly together.
“We agreed we wouldn’t do this. Not while you’re still recovering. And I won’t tolerate slurs from you,” he continued, although a peculiar look flitted through his eyes. “As to taking my name, you did it of your own free will. You don’t get to regret it because things are tough between us.”
She gasped. “Don’t you dare say that to me. I wasn’t the one who threw our marriage away, Nick.”
“I won’t be drawn into another fight, baby. For one thing, the doctor told you to take it easy. And you’re far from fit enough to take me on. So don’t even try.”
He traced a fading bruise on her thigh, and her senses went into immediate overdrive.
She jerked away, curling her legs to hide the bruise. “Don’t touch me!”
His lips formed a thin line and he stood. “Fine. Have it your way.”
A harsh laugh scraped her throat. “If only having my way was as easy as that.”
“Explain.”
She glared up at him, unable to stem the tide of pain coursing through her. “You know the one thing I crave more than anything,
Nick. The one thing you’ve never wanted to talk about.” He paled and his face froze into a blank mask. “Belle?—”
“Don’t bother. I know how this goes. I mention children, and you shut down. Go on, walk away. Far be it for me to throw a wrench in our truce .”
A very pithy Greek curse ripped through the air. “I came out here to tell you what’s happening on Friday, not to get drawn into an argument.”
She swallowed hard and tried to find some semblance of peace amidst the warring emotions coursing through her heart. “So tell me. What’s happening?”
Her flippant tone made his frown deepen but he took a breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. “There’s a newspaper guy sniffing around for a story. I’ve invited him over for a meeting.”
Surprise made her stare blankly for a moment. “You’re obliging a reporter ? You normally avoid them like the plague.”
He shrugged, although tension continued to snap through his frame. Whether it was from their argument and the taboo subject of children, she wasn’t sure. “He mentioned Mwana and said it was urgent he spoke to me. I merely want to find out what he knows.”
Fear mingled with the myriad emotions battering her. “He mentioned Mwana, specifically ?” The news of the kidnapping hadn’t hit the international press yet. In fact, Edda, Hendrik, and Father Tom were likely still in Morocco recovering and being debriefed by the authorities.
Nick gave a tense nod.
“How can he possibly know?” Nick’s people were wizards at protecting his privacy.
“No idea, but I intend to find out.”
“You mean we will find out, right?” she said.
“No. I think it’s better that I talk to him first… dammit , don’t give me that look.” “What look?”
“The one that says you’re about to rain hell on my head again. You’re not coming anywhere near this guy until I know it’s safe.
And sure, you can hate me for that, too.”
“Nick!”
“Nope, I won’t change my mind. I’ll see you later. In the meantime, I suggest you take a swim or find a better book to read.
This one’s obviously not doing the trick with calming your frame of mind.” Leaning down, he planted what she could only call a hard, possessive kiss on her shoulder, then he straightened and started to walk away. “As for not touching you, baby. It’ll only happen when I have no breath left in my body.”
Livid at his arrogance and at her body’s leap of pleasure at his touch, she jerked her feet off the lounger and twisted around to glare after him.
“This book is perfectly adequate. And my frame of mind has never been better!” But she didn’t even get a backward glance before he disappeared from view.
For your sake, I hope you know what you’re doing. She gave in to the childish urge to fling her book after him, mourning its loss for only a second when it skidded along the ground and landed in the pool. Lips pursed, she tracked the progress of the now sodden novel.
When she sprang up in agitation a few minutes later and dove in after it, she wasn’t sure which emotion reigned supreme—her unsettled feelings where Nick was concerned or her sheer terror that there was someone—perhaps several someones—out there, digging into what happened to her at Nawaka.