The Hostage Bride. Kate Walker

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СКАЧАТЬ like a Cheshire Cat.

      ‘There’s you—driving off down the motorway—not a church or a chapel anywhere in sight—and me—me—here in the back, all done up in my bridal finery…’

      Something about his stillness, the swift glance of those dark eyes up to the mirror to study her closely, made her heart clench on a sudden wave of panic.

      What was wrong with her? This man had kidnapped her—abducted her! There was nothing to laugh at, nothing even remotely amusing, about her situation. She should be scared. She was nervous—and yet…

      Another attack of the giggles threatened.

      ‘Thass another mishtake you’ve made. Which is one, two…

      Her eyes seemed to have blurred and the finger she tried to count with kept missing the other hand completely.

      ‘I mean…fancy kidnapping a bride!’

      The laughter stopped suddenly, changing to a wide, jaw-cracking yawn. Her eyelids felt heavy and, try as she might, she really couldn’t focus at all. The world was sliding out of balance in the most peculiar way.

      ‘Lie down, Felicity!’ It was a sharp command from the man in the front of the car. ‘Lie down at once—believe me, you’ll feel much better like that.’

      ‘Lie…’

      Her eyes slid closed; her head drooped like a wilting flower, then abruptly jerked up again. Wide, dazed eyes, their pupils heavy and vastly dark, were turned on him in bitter reproach.

      ‘What have you done to me?’

      ‘Go with it, gatita. Don’t try to fight it. It will be easier for you that way.’

      Don’t fight it!

      Her heart was fluttering frantically like a small, trapped bird beating its wings against a cage. She tried to force her eyes open, managed it just a little but her lids were too heavy.

      ‘Sleep, little one.’

      The low, husky voice was all that she could concentrate on. Blending in with the purr of the car’s engine, it wove a soft smoky spell around her senses.

      ‘Duerme…’

      But she couldn’t sleep. She had to stay awake. She had to…

      The effort was too much. With a faint sigh she stopped struggling, slumped back against the seat and slept.

      Watching her, Rico clenched his big hands tight over the steering wheel until the knuckles showed white and cursed savagely in his native language.

      If there had been any other way… But he had been forced into this—she had forced him into this. She and that fiancé of hers, Edward Venables.

      The dark eyes blazed with fury, every muscle clenched taut and he slammed his fist hard against the wheel. Damn Edward Venables! Damn him to hell. Rico already owed that louse for the way he’d treated Maria—and now he owed him for this too. Big time.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘MISS Hamilton…Felicity…’

      She’d heard that voice before, in her dreams, Felicity thought as she stirred reluctantly. It was the sort of voice that belonged in a dream, low and soft and sexily accented, with a way of turning her name from a simple four-syllable word into a string of poetry just by saying it.

      In her dream it had belonged to a fantasy man, too. The sort of man she had never encountered in real life and never would now. Because now she had to wake up. Now she had to face reality, and reality was that today she was obliged to marry Edward Venables. It was either that or see her father go to prison for a long time.

      But perhaps she could manage a few moments more in the dream world, she thought, trying to snuggle back down in the bed.

      ‘Felicity…gatita…wake up.’

      She looked like the kitten he had called her, lying there, curled up, soft and sleepy, her head pillowed on her hands, Rico thought unwillingly. She looked delicate and vulnerable in a way that stabbed a knife into his conscience and twisted it hard.

      And he couldn’t afford a conscience. Not where she was concerned. Maria’s future, and that of her unborn child, depended on him being strong and dealing with this as he had promised.

      ‘You can do this for me, can’t you, Rico?’

      His half-sister’s voice sounded in the back of his head so clearly that he could almost see her tearstained face before his eyes, feel her hands clutching at his as she pleaded with him.

      ‘You can see Eddie, tell him he can’t go through with this wedding. That he can’t marry this woman, this Felicity Hamilton…’

      She had made it sound so easy, so straightforward. Because to Maria it was straightforward. She wanted this and what she wanted she usually got. But, this time, what Maria wanted had proved unexpectedly difficult to obtain.

      Which was why he was here, now, with a half-conscious woman on his hands and a situation that was rapidly running right out of control.

      ‘Felicity…’

      In the back of the car, Felicity Hamilton stirred slightly, frowning faintly, and muttered something in her sleep. The white, soft veil had fallen forward over her face and instinctively he reached forward to move it aside. Then immediately wished he hadn’t.

      He doubted if he would ever forget the sense of shock that had hit him straight in the chest when she had appeared outside the house just a few short hours earlier. Whatever else he had been expecting of the Felicity Hamilton described to him by both Maria and the private investigator he had put on the case, it had certainly not been this.

      Not this slender, delicate creature whose gentle beauty had knocked him so far off balance that his thought processes had become scrambled. In the end he had only been able to function by forcing himself to concentrate on the plan he had worked out and nothing else.

      The picture Maria had painted had been of someone far tougher; someone who knew exactly what she wanted in life and went for it, ignoring anyone who got in the way. Like father, like daughter, she had said. And the detective had been equally damning.

      ‘She goes straight from work to that nightclub, every night, Mr Valeron. Never home before near dawn.’

      But this woman didn’t look anything like the picture he had built up in his mind. Of course, that picture might still be the truth internally; it was just the external appearance that was different. But if that was the case then she had no damn right to be so deceptively lovely—it complicated matters far too much.

      ‘Señorita…Felicity…’

      The voice was back in her dreams, but as she stirred again Felicity found that her bed was nothing like as comfortable as usual. It felt hard and narrow and she was curled up uncomfortably. She was tangled up in something too, something that rustled and confined her, like yards of netting and…

      Shock jolted her awake, making СКАЧАТЬ