Istanbul Affair

by Joanna Mansell

  He held her very tightly, and didn't seem to mind that she was very nearly squeezing him to death. Then he swiftly kissed her.

  'Oh, that tickles!' she said, startled back to reality.

  'Sorry, I forgot I was still wearing it,' Benedict said with a grin. He tore off the false moustache and tossed it into the bin. 'I promise never to grow one.'

  Amy felt much better now that he was here, and so close.

  'What did you find out?' she asked. 'Were you on the ferry? I didn't see you. Did you follow the kidnapper? Do you know where Angeline is?'

  'The answer to all those questions is "yes",' he said, and the smile had now disappeared from his mouth. 'Just let me change back into my own clothes, and then I'll take you to your cousin.'

  'Is she all right?' Amy demanded. 'How do you know where she is?'

  'I followed the man who collected the money from you. He got off the ferry at the next stop, and then made his way back to Istanbul. He's staying at a hotel only a few blocks away from here.'

  'But what about Angeline?' said Amy, with growing impatience. 'Where is Angeline?'

  'No more explanations for now,' replied Benedict. His voice had changed and, for some reason that she didn't understand, sounded harder. 'Give me a couple of minutes to change. Then I'll take you to the hotel where the kidnapper's staying.'

  He shrugged off the workman's clothes, disappeared into the bathroom to wash the tanning lotion from his face and hands, and then pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. 'OK, let's go,' he said briefly.

  Amy wanted to ask at least a dozen more questions, but something about the expression on his face stopped her. What was going on here? she wondered uneasily. She had the feeling that, whatever it was, she wasn't going to like it.

  Once they were out of the hotel, Benedict began to walk quickly through the crowded, sun-drenched streets. Amy trotted along beside him, frowning to herself as she tried to work out why Benedict was behaving like this. He finally stopped outside a small hotel down a side-street.

  'This is it,' he said.

  'What do we do now?' asked Amy. 'Call the police?'

  'No.' He seemed about to say something, stopped, then finally added, 'You might want to call them later. That's something you'll have to decide for yourself.'

  'You're being very mysterious,' she said rather crossly.

  'Sorry, but—' Again, he seemed on the verge of saying something more, and again he stopped himself. 'Let's go up,' he said briefly.

  Amy looked at him warily. 'Are you sure it's safe?'

  'Oh, yes,' he said, in the same rather hard tone that he had used earlier. 'I'm sure of that.'

  She frowned as she followed him inside. What was this all about?

  Benedict seemed to know exactly where he was going. He headed straight for the stairs, and then went directly up to the second floor. Finally, he stopped outside a room at the very end of the corridor.

  'Your cousin is in here,' he said in a low voice.

  Amy stared at him, startled. 'They've been keeping her prisoner in a hotel-room? Wasn't that risky? One of the hotel staff could easily have found out. They must come in to change the beds and clean the rooms.'

  'Just open the door,' Benedict instructed. 'But do it very quietly.'

  She shot him a puzzled look, but obeyed. She turned the handle very gently, and then stood silently in the doorway.

  Almost at once, she heard a familiar voice. It was the man who had spoken to her on the phone; the man who had collected the money from her on the ferry.

  'I never thought it would go so smoothly,' he said. 'You were right; it really was very easy.'

  'Of course it was,' said the girl's voice, confidently. 'We worked everything out beforehand; there was no reason why it should go wrong. I'll admit that I nearly died when I found that she'd brought Benedict with her, but in the end it wasn't a problem. In fact it gave me quite a laugh when they concocted that story about Benedict being Amy's fiancé. And now we've got the money, we can go anywhere and do anything we want.'

  Amy stood there absolutely frozen. It was Angeline who was speaking. Angeline, who wasn't being held a terrified prisoner by kidnappers. Angeline, who was sitting in this comfortable hotel-room, looking forward to spending sixty thousand pounds that didn't belong to her.

  Quietly, she walked forwards, closely followed by Benedict. Angeline and the man with her were sitting on the far side of the room, and didn't notice them straight away. The money was piled up on a table in front of them, and Angeline was running her fingers through it in an almost sensual movement, her blue eyes gleaming.

  Then she turned her head, and saw her cousin for the first time. She sat very still, and the bright glow left her eyes.

  'Oh, hell,' she said flatly. 'And I was just beginning to think that we'd got away with it.'

  Amy just stared at her. She couldn't seem to say anything.

  Angeline was the first one to break the long, strained silence. 'Lost your tongue?' she enquired caustically. 'Aren't you going to threaten me with the police? Tell me you're going to have me charged with fraud? Or is it extortion?' She suddenly swung at the money angrily, scattering it on to the floor. 'Why didn't you come to Istanbul on your own?' she said fiercely. 'Why did you bring him?' She glared at Benedict with sudden hatred. 'He's so clever, I knew we were in trouble as soon as I found out he was here. I bet he knew right from the start that the whole thing was a put-up job.'

  'No, I didn't,' Benedict answered tightly. 'Believe it or not, I came because I was genuinely concerned about your safety. Which proves that I'm not quite as clever as you seem to think I am,' he added, his dark eyes suddenly flashing. 'But then I gradually became suspicious. Things didn't quite seem to fit together. And when you asked for the exact amount of money that Amy had inherited from her uncle, I was fairly sure that this wasn't a genuine kidnapping.'

  Amy swung round and stared at Benedict. 'You didn't tell me any of this,' she said in bewilderment. 'You let me go on thinking that Angeline was really in danger!'

  'There was always a chance that I was wrong,' answered Benedict. 'And I knew that you were fond of your cousin. I didn't want to accuse her of anything until I was sure that I was right.'

  Amy turned back to Angeline, still bewildered. 'Why did you do it?'

  'Because I was cheated out of my share of Uncle's money,' Angeline said bitterly. 'I should have had half; I was entitled to half. Instead, every penny of it went to you. Good little Amy, sweet little Amy, everyone's favourite. You really make me sick, you know,' she went on vehemently. 'You always have done. So I decided to take the money away from you. I met Mike here when I came to Istanbul on holiday. Between us we came up with the idea of a phoney kidnapping, with the amount that Uncle left you being handed over as the ransom. And it nearly worked,' she said defiantly. 'We nearly got away with it.'

  'Except that it wasn't Uncle's money that I handed over,' Amy told her in a slightly steadier voice. 'That sixty thousand pounds belongs to Benedict.'

  Angeline's blue eyes widened, and she swung round to face Benedict. 'It's your money?' she said in astonishment.

  'Amy's uncle laid down certain restrictions when he left her that inheritance,' Benedict said evenly. 'She can't touch any of the capital for five years.'

  Angeline's gaze grew even wider. 'And so you paid the ransom? You just happened to have sixty thousand lying around? You've got that kind of money?' She gave a self-mocking laugh. 'I really messed up all round, didn't I? I should have stuck with you, and tried to hook you. You were a much better bet, in the long-term. I wasn't sure about you, though. There were rumours that you had money, but you never flashed it around. And anyway, I didn't think that I could go on pretending to be the kind of girl you thought I was. It was such an effort, being sweet and nice all the time. Pretending that I didn't care that all of Uncle's money had been left to Amy. I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer. That's why I decided to try and get my hands on Amy's inheritance, instead.' She s
tared directly at them, completely unrepentant about what she had done. 'So—what happens now?'

  'For a start, we take back the money,' Benedict said coolly, gathering it together. 'As to what happens to you—that's up to Amy. Personally, I'd have the pair of you slung into gaol. She might feel slightly more charitable than me, though, as you're her cousin.'

  'At the moment, I don't feel in the least charitable,' Amy said tightly. She was still finding it hard to believe that Angeline could have behaved in such an underhand, amoral way. She remembered all the anxiety, the sleepless nights she had gone through, and her mouth hardened still further. 'Let's get out of here,' she muttered to Benedict. 'If we stay any longer, I think I'm going to hit her!'

  Afterwards, she couldn't remember anything of the walk back to the hotel. Once they reached their room, she flopped down into the nearest chair and shook her head, still feeling totally dazed.

  'I knew that Angeline wasn't exactly a saint,' she said in a disbelieving voice. 'But I never thought she'd do anything like this!'

  'She fooled me, too, for quite some time,' Benedict reminded her. 'And that isn't easy to do. Your cousin is very clever, in a rather twisted way.'

  'I wish you'd told me when you started to suspect that the kidnapping was just a set-up,' Amy said, suddenly looking up at him.

  'I told you, I wasn't sure. If I'd been wrong, then you'd have been very angry at me for even suggesting such a thing. And I didn't want you to be angry at me, at that particular time,' Benedict finished softly.

  Something in his tone of voice made Amy swallow hard. She also began to realise that she wasn't nearly as furious and upset over this as she should have been. And the reason for that was very simple. There were too many other things to think about—and all of them centring on Benedict.

  'Have you decided yet what you're going to do about Angeline?' he asked quietly.

  Amy gave a rather helpless shrug. 'What can I do? What she did was criminal, but I can't go to the police and get her thrown into gaol. I just can't do it.'

  'She deserves it,' Benedict reminded her a little grimly.

  'I know that! But she's still my cousin, and despite everything she's done I feel slightly sorry for her. She's the real loser in all of this. She's behaved very badly, but she's got nothing out of it, and on top of all that—' Amy finally managed a very faint smile '—she's lost you. She was right; you were the real prize. And now she will never have you.'

  Benedict lifted one eyebrow slightly. 'I've never been described as a prize before!'

  'Well, there's a first time for everything,' she said more cheerfully. Then she added, in a more serious tone, 'What do you suppose Angeline will do now?'

  'My guess is that she and her boyfriend are already making a dash for the airport. They probably haven't even stopped to pack,' he said drily.

  Amy looked at him more shyly. 'And what are we going to do?'

  His dark eyes suddenly gleamed. 'I can think of several things I'd like to do at this particular moment.'

  'No,' she said firmly. 'Not that I don't want to,' she went on, her own gaze very bright now, 'but there really are a lot of things that we need to sort out.'

  'How can we sort out something that we don't even understand?'

  'I understand it,' she said at once. 'I've understood it for a long time now.'

  Benedict looked interested. 'Do you want to explain it to me?'

  'It's actually very simple,' Amy said, her voice quite calm, although her heart was thumping away inside of her. 'This is love—and it's the real thing. I don't know how it happened or why it crashed down on me so fast, but that's what it is. At least, it is for me. I don't know how you feel about it.'

  'I thought I'd made it fairly plain,' Benedict said, one eyebrow delicately drifting upwards again.

  'Well—yes,' she said, getting slightly flustered as his dark gaze rested on her face. 'But going to bed isn't the same thing as love, is it? At least, not for men. And probably not for quite a lot of women.'

  'No, I suppose not,' he agreed. There was a definite glint of amusement in his gaze now, and that rather annoyed her. This was meant to be a serious conversation! They weren't going to get anywhere if he began laughing at her.

  'So what I want to know is—' she began firmly.

  Then she stopped. This was all going wrong. It was beginning to sound as if she was delivering some kind of ultimatum, and she wasn't.

  'What would you like to know?' Benedict prompted softly. 'If my intentions are honourable?'

  'No, of course not,' Amy said rather crossly. 'That's silly. I just want to know—' She stopped again.

  What she wanted to know was if, by some major miracle, he felt the same way about her. It probably wasn't possible, of course. And she was actually scared to ask the question in case he gave her an answer that she didn't want to hear.

  Benedict was openly grinning now, and that really annoyed her. In fact, there were a lot of things about him that annoyed her. Perhaps she was making a big mistake. Maybe it wasn't love, after all, but only some crazy illusion…

  As if he could sense her sudden uncertainty, Benedict took a couple of steps forward, bent his head, and very thoroughly kissed her. It was several minutes before he finally released her again, and by then Amy was completely sure of one thing. This was love, all right! Nothing else could make her feel the way she did whenever he came anywhere near her. And it wasn't just a physical love, although that was certainly a big part of it, and very nice.

  Benedict was breathing a little unsteadily by this time. He stepped back from her and looked down at her ruefully.

  'Do you think that we need to say anything at all after that? Well, perhaps we do,' he went on, answering his own question. 'At least, I do. The only trouble is, I'm not at all sure what to say! Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I'm not sure that I even believe that it's happened now. Every time I look at you, though, I have to believe it! I sure as hell don't understand it, and I don't suppose you do, either. But I suppose we'll get used to it as we go along, and perhaps we'll even be able to make some sense of it as the years go by.'

  'Years?' gulped Amy.

  'I don't think this thing between us is going to go away,' Benedict said gravely. 'It looks as if we're going to have to get used to the idea of a very long-term relationship. And one that's also likely to end up as very legal.'

  'Legal?' she squeaked.

  'At least it'll please my parents,' he said cheerfully. 'They were beginning to think that I was never going to settle down into respectability.'

  'I don't think that you're ever going to be entirely respectable,' Amy replied rather faintly. 'And are you really sure that you want to settle down?'

  'I think that, with you, I'm going to want a lot of things that I was never particularly interested in before.'

  'And does it have to be me?' she asked in a suddenly nervous voice. Then she wished that she hadn't asked that. What if he said no? Or gave some evasive answer that would always leave her wondering?

  Benedict's reply was quite unequivocal, though. 'Yes; it has to be you,' he said without any hesitation.

  But Amy still couldn't quite believe it, or accept it. 'When we first came to Istanbul, you thought it was Angeline that you wanted,' she reminded him.

  'I didn't actually say that,' he replied calmly. 'I told you that I was looking for something—someone—and that Angeline was the closest I'd come to finding it. I suppose it was because she was like you, in some ways. Then I began to look at you—and it suddenly dawned on me that you were the real thing; that the only sensible thing to do was to grab you, and hold on to you.'

  'Well, you certainly did that!' she said, with the beginnings of a grin.

  'I never meant to,' Benedict said, almost apologetically. 'I intended to take it slowly, but things just suddenly got completely out of hand. And you didn't seem to mind.'

  Amy's grin broadened. 'No, I didn't mind.'

  'There are a hundred and one thi
ngs that we need to talk about, of course,' Benedict went on. 'Where we're going to live, how we're going to fit our lives together, what kind of a future we want—and we'll have to meet each other's families. Perhaps I should warn you right now that my mother adores weddings. It's likely to be the main topic of conversation once you set foot inside of their house.'

  'I think that I'm going to enjoy talking about weddings with your mother,' Amy said with a contented sigh. Then she gave a small grimace. 'Are you sure that you want to meet my family? For all you know, they might all be like Angeline!'

  'I'm hoping that they're more like you,' Benedict said wryly. Then his expression changed. 'Would you mind stopping talking for a couple of minutes? I'd like to kiss you again.'

  'Are you going to be very polite and ask me every time?' asked Amy, her green eyes dancing.

  'This will probably be the very last time,' he growled softly. 'When I'm near you, I'm too impatient to be polite.'

  His kiss was unexpectedly fierce, but he broke away from her much sooner than she had expected—or wanted. He saw the look of disappointment on her face, and gave a small grunt of frustration.

  'Don't look at me like that. I'm trying very hard to hold on to some kind of self-control, but I think I'm going to need some help.'

  'What kind of help?' she asked innocently.

  Benedict's eyes darkened. 'About the only thing that's going to work right now is if you leave me on my own for a while. I think you'd better go back to your own room and stay there.'

  Without a word, Amy walked over to the door. She didn't open it and leave the room, though. Instead, she turned the key in the lock, and then slid the key down her neck.

  'You know what you're doing?' Benedict warned huskily.

  'Of course I know,' she said happily.

  'I still think that you should give me that key.'

  'Find it,' she invited.

  And he did, eventually. But by then he had forgotten why he had wanted it. And Amy had forgotten everything except that she loved this man beside her and, incredibly, it seemed that he loved her too.