Captive At Her Enemy's Command. Heidi Rice

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СКАЧАТЬ down in the seat until the car’s luxury leather upholstery cradled her. She closed her eyes, letting the well-oiled hum of the convertible’s engine drown out the deep hum in her abdomen—which had kicked off the minute Caine had stepped out of his car—and was not remotely significant.

      Caine was a phenomenally good-looking guy—with a potent sexual charisma. Especially if you had a weakness for tough, take-charge, control-freaky types who demonstrated about as much empathy and sensitivity as the jagged rocks of Campania’s coastline. And apparently she did, especially when she was exhausted and traumatized and had just been mugged.

      Luckily, she had previous experience of this reaction. She would get over it.

      And at least he’d stopped trying to bully her into getting on a plane. She might have been able to get some grim satisfaction out of thwarting his plan but for the painful throbbing in her frontal lobe as she tried to get her head around the huge mess she was in.

      The car phone buzzed loudly, making her head hurt even more.

      “Hey, Dario,” Caine said, answering the call and then switching to speaker phone.

      “Tell me you’ve found her, Jared?”

      Katie’s heart somersaulted in her chest at the urgency in her brother-in-law’s voice and she straightened in her seat.

      “I’ve got her here with me,” Caine replied. “Picked her up on a farm track five miles from Sorrento. We’re on speaker.”

      Dario cursed in Italian. “Katie? Grazie Dio,” he murmured. “Are you okay? What happened?”

      “I’m good, Dario. Really, it wasn’t anything major. I got robbed, but they didn’t hurt me. I didn’t want you and Meg to worry.”

      “Is she okay, Jared?” Dario asked, even though she’d already answered that question.

      Caine’s all-seeing gaze swept over her, assessing her condition again, the way he had when he’d first stepped out of his car. And the hum went haywire.

      She pressed her hand to her head, mindful of the graze hiding behind her hair which she didn’t want either Caine or Dario to know about, because it would just give the two of them more excuses to treat her like a five-year-old.

      “Other than sore feet, yes,” he said after the disturbingly thorough examination. “Just shaken up.”

      “I’m sitting right here, Dario,” she pointed out, trying not to lose her cool, while being reminded of being nineteen years old again and having both Dario and Caine decide that they knew what was best for her.

      The spurt of indignation died though when she heard Megan’s muffled voice and then her sister came on the line. “Katie, thank God you’re okay. I’ve been worried sick ever since we got your text and I couldn’t get through to you.”

      Guilt swept through Katie at the distressed tone.

      “The phone lost service right after I texted you,” Katie said, regretting sending the panicked plea in the moments after the robbery even more. Megan would have been frantic and it was all her fault, as usual. “Really, Megan, I’m fine,” she repeated. “It’s not a big deal.”

      “Where are you now?” her sister asked.

      “With Caine, in his car.”

      Hopefully heading for Sorrento.

      “We can wire you some money. How much do you need?” Megan cut back in.

      Katie wanted desperately to refuse the offer, especially with Caine listening in. He’d once called her a spoiled brat and in her debilitated state the old insult felt fresh.

      “Two hundred euros would be terrific,” she said. It would be just enough to stay in a hostel for a couple of nights, contact her insurance company to replenish her wardrobe and get painting. Once she’d done a few watercolors she could set up a pitch in Piazza Tasso. Sorrento’s main square was the perfect place for her to sell her work, with its arty vibe and the never-ending stream of tourists. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I—”

      “Don’t be silly. That’s not enough. Let us wire you five thousand.” Megan interrupted her again, sounding desperate. “You need to pay for a plane ticket home.”

      “I’m not coming home, Meg,” Katie said, trying not to sound defensive or, worse, ungrateful. But she knew she had to remain firm.

      She wasn’t ready to go back. Not yet.

      “You’re not?” Megan sounded devastated. “Even after this?”

      “I’ll be back soon. I promise,” she said, mindful of their audience. She could feel Caine listening from across the car and judging.

      Not to mention Dario, who she would bet was scowling at the phone right now, not happy about the way she was upsetting his wife.

      “You’ve been away for months now,” Megan came back. “I can’t bear for...” The line crackled and Katie’s guilt began to choke her. Was Megan crying?

      The hollow space in the pit of her belly got larger.

      The muffled sounds finally silenced. Then a door shut and Dario’s voice came over the phone. “Megan is resting now,” he said, by way of explanation.

      “Is she okay?” Katie asked, the guilt all but crippling her. She’d known Megan would worry, but she hadn’t realized she’d worry this much. Megan was usually so practical and calm. “I’m so sorry to have caused—”

      “Don’t say that if it isn’t true, sorellina,” Dario cut in, using the endearment that had meant so much to Katie when he’d first started using it a few years ago.

      Little sister.

      “You say you are sorry for causing Megan this distress, but it is a simple matter to solve the problem.” Her brother-in-law’s usually flawless English had become disjointed, a sure sign he was holding on to his temper with an effort. “All you need to do is come home.”

      “I can’t do that, Dario, please understand.” Inadequacy twisted in her stomach, making unhappy bedfellows with the guilt.

      Why does this have to be so hard?

      She sounded immature and selfish, even to her own ears. But the thought of returning to New York had the inadequacy clawing at her throat, the way it had so often since the night of Whittaker’s attack. She couldn’t go back until she had more to show for her trip than some great anecdotes and a half-hearted show of independence.

      The money she’d made over the last two months with her artwork was all gone, probably paying for a major Pinky and Perky party somewhere. The chances of getting it back were slim to none. She couldn’t return to New York without it because she’d be right back where she started, with Dario and Megan bankrolling her and all her screw-ups.

      She couldn’t tell Dario and Megan about the money she’d lost, though, because they’d offer to replace it, not realizing that it wasn’t the money that mattered so much as the fact she’d earned it herself.

      “And when СКАЧАТЬ