Desire's Captive

by Penny Jordan

  The food had been surprisingly good, the pasta rich and moist, and Saffron was amazed at the speed with which she emptied her plate. Her mind might be in despair but her body still wanted feeding.

  It was Nico who escorted her to her 'room' later in the evening. Once inside Saffron waited to hear the closing of the door and the key turning in the lock, but to her surprise he lingered.

  'I could arrange for Olivia to take you down to the river so that you can bathe if you wish?' he suggested, almost hesitantly, or so it seemed, and for some reason what Saffron interpreted as pity in the look he gave her drove her to say bitterly, 'What's the matter? Do I offend your sensibilities in my grubby clothes? My body unwashed? Too bad! You'll just have to learn to live with it.'

  Immediately the words were uttered she was regretting them, wishing she had accepted his offer, but it was too late to recall her rash statement now, for Nico was already turning back to the door, shrugging carelessly as he did so. 'Have it your own way,' he told her. 'I merely thought you might appreciate the opportunity to ... refresh yourself. From tomorrow evening one of us will walk with you—you must have exercise, and if you don't go willingly you will be forced.'

  'Such concern for my well-being!' Saffron marvelled sardonically. 'Why? Don't you think I know how little chance I have of getting out of here alive?'

  Unconsciously her voice was full of anguished pain, reflected in her eyes as she looked at him.

  For a moment it almost seemed as though he understood and wanted to comfort her, but it must only have been a trick of the light, because he moved and once again his eyes were as cold and hard as they had always been, his voice soft as he asked, 'And if you don't, what would you miss the most? The arms of your latest lover: The feeling of expensive silk against your body? The glitter of jewels?'

  'None of those things,' Saffron retorted huskily. 'What I would miss most would be the opportunity to breathe clean, fresh air, untainted by animals like you—Animals.' She laughed shrilly, the sound edged with hysteria. 'Animals don't do things like this to one another. They don't destroy and maim purely for financial gain, without a thought for the misery they're causing. How much have you asked my father for?'

  'One million pounds,' Nico told her blandly. 'A nice round sum, don't you think?'

  'You planned this right from the start-^at the ball in Rome, didn't you?'

  'Yes.' The admission was firm, refusing to betray regret or compassion.

  'And knowing what was intended you were still able to ... to ...'

  'Flirt with you?' he offered cynically. 'It was necessary, and not hard.' A muscle moved faintly in his jaw, lean and tanned and showing a slight shadow where he shaved. 'You're a very attractive woman, as I'm sure you already know, and the mood was right. What right-minded Italian male would have done otherwise?'

  'Fool, fool!' her mind screamed at her. She had believed it meant something. She had behaved like a love-crazed teenager.

  'You're a machine, not a man!'

  For a moment she thought he was going to strike her again, but instead a look of grim comprehension darkened his eyes.

  'You hate yourself because inadvertently you responded to me as a woman,' he stated calmly, his words bringing a surge of colour to her face. 'Do not. It was a perfectly normal reaction in the circumstances; a woman of your experience is bound to be responsive to a man, especially one who has already…'

  'Tried to seduce her?' Saffron supplied for him.

  He shrugged, his mouth hard.

  'That implies an innocence which we both know you do not possess. Things will be much easier for you if you do not fight against them. I have no wish to hurt or humiliate you…'

  Her bitter laugh silenced him.

  'Look...' He reached for her, grasping her arms, and she flinched in his grasp.

  'What are you trying to do?' she demanded angrily. 'Make Olivia jealous? Why don't you call her up here so that she can see . ..'

  'You are determined to annoy me, aren't you? Or is this what you really want?'

  Swift as a panther, his grasp tightened, drawing her against the hard male outline of his body, his hands moving from her shoulders to her back, moulding her against him, one hand circling the back of her neck, forcing it to bend, the other securing her against him.

  'No!'

  Her moaned protest was smothered beneath the fierce pressure of his mouth, and only when it possessed hers did Saffron realise how much she had infuriated him. He was obviously a man who was not used to being criticised by a woman, she thought hazily, trying to fight against the melting lethargy spreading through her body. His first touch had ignited fires she was finding it hard to control, every pulse in her body responding wildly to the heated pressure of his mouth. She could taste salt blood in her mouth from the bruising pressure of his lips, and instantly the pressure of his kiss relaxed, and his tongue touched her skin tasting her blood. A wave of pleasure, so fierce that it frightened her, left her weak and shaken, unable to understand what was happening to her. She hated him—loathed him!

  'What are you trying to do?' she husked when at last he had released her.

  His grim, 'I could ask you the same question,' silenced her for several seconds. On legs which threatened to buckle beneath her she walked to the window and stared out of it. Why did she experience this overwhelming sexual magnetism whenever Nico came within close range. She hated and detested the man, but her body seemed to crave him.

  'If you feel like experimenting again, make sure you don't choose Guido,' Nico warned her, breaking the silence. 'You might get a response you didn't bargain for, unless Olivia's right and the thought of being mauled about excites you? Is that it?' he asked pointedly, his eyes on the shallow rise and fall of her breasts. 'Is that what you were hoping for? You've been watching too many movies,' he told her harshly. 'Desirable you might be, but not desirable enough for me to want to take you here and now.' His mouth twisted a little. 'When I make love I prefer comfort, clean sheets and a sweet-smelling woman in my arms.'

  The gibe drove the colour from Saffron's face. 'Is that why you do things like this?' she demanded fiercely. 'So that you can afford to live in style? If that's the case why don't we come to some mutually beneficial arrangement?' An idea had just occurred to her, and before she lost her courage she was going to try and put it to the test. Swallowing the fear building up inside her, she leaned forward slightly, lips parted, fingers curling into the open collar of Nick's shirt.

  'A million pounds could go a long way if you had it all to yourself.'

  'What are you suggesting?' He didn't move, his eyes giving nothing away. He was like granite, Saffron thought wildly, unyielding, remorselessly crushing anything that got in his way.

  'A double-cross?'

  She shrugged, trying to appear calm and in control. 'Why not? Or are you going to tell me there's honour among thieves?' She said it sweetly enough, but the arrow found its mark. Her fingers were ruthlessly removed from his shirt, his expression distant as he looked down at her.

  'And if I agreed? If I wanted more than a million pounds, if I wanted you, for instance?'

  A hard lump seemed to have settled in her chest, causing a tight unremitting pain.

  'I ... might be able to come to some arrangement,' she managed breathlessly.

  The look in his eyes frightened her and she reached for him automatically, only to find he had put the width of the room between them, his mouth curling disdainfully as he studied her.

  'My God, you're all the same, aren't you?' he breathed at last, and Saffron could see his chest rising and falling beneath the thin white shirt as though he had been running. Awareness of the deep undercurrent of anger possessing him ran through her on a shock wave, although she didn't know what she had done to cause it.

  'Who the hell do you think you're deceiving?' he said scornfully. 'Making with the big sacrifice. Some sacrifice! You want me,' he told her flatly, 'and I wouldn't touch you now if you were the last woman left on earth. Don
't you think I know what turns you on? Don't you think I know all about the type of thrill women like you get from the thought of being taken by force? If that's what you want Guido is your man, not me—I like my sex straight,' he told her brutally.

  He was gone before she could retaliate, leaving her feeling bruised and humiliated by his rejection, and unable to understand what had happened. One moment she had actually thought that she might be able to use the bait of all the ransom moneys as a means of dividing her captors; and the next he had turned the tables on her implying that she had been trying to persuade him to make love to her when in reality she had been nerving herself...

  For what? an inner voice asked. She didn't want him, Saffron defended bitterly. She hated him, loathed him!

  Saffron had been a prisoner for four days. The hope she had nursed so hard at first had waned leaving in its place dull apathy. The days formed themselves into a set routine. In the morning her room was unlocked by Olivia, who brought up water for her to wash in and then escorted her to the primitive little hut set discreetly away from the farmhouse. Initially fastidious embarrassment had overwhelmed Saffron each time she was forced to endure this indignity, but her imprisonment and the very basic diet she was getting had worn away her resistance.

  Every night before going to sleep she washed out the clothes she had worn during the day, but although they dried well enough overnight they were now beginning to look shabby. She felt ill-kempt and scruffy, but her personal appearance had taken a back seat to her fears for her safety.

  In the evening they all ate a meal together in the room downstairs, often prepared by Saffron herself under the watchful eyes of her guards. Today Nico had been missing and she had been acutely aware of his absence, even though she had not spoken a single word to him since the day he had searched her. At first her determined avoidance of him had made Olivia laugh, but now Saffron often found the other girl watching her as though she found it hard to understand how she could be so indifferent to him.

  But she wasn't indifferent. With nothing to do but brood on her situation Saffron found her hatred of him growing, feeding off her and draining her of the ability to think of anything else.

  He had arrived while she had been checking the vines with Guido; a back-breaking task, and one from which she would gladly have stretched her aching back if she hadn't been sure that Nico would have taken the gesture as a sign of defeat. Somehow the two of them had become involved in a silent tussle of wills; Saffron knew her silence angered Nico, she had seen it in his eyes, and the knowledge had brought her perverse pleasure. He wanted to break her will, she was convinced of it; he wanted to reduce her to the kind of fear he no doubt expected from his victims. Well, she wasn't going to join their ranks!

  'What's the matter? Too soft for honest-to-goodness work?' Guido jeered as she paused without stretching, his eyes lingering lasciviously on the rounded outline of her breasts.

  The other three members of the gang were constantly taunting her, but Saffron had quickly learned to shut herself off from their gibes, although a deep inborn instinct warned her to be wary with Guido. Olivia seemed to deliberately throw the two of them together, and pride alone prevented Saffron from correcting her when she implied to Nico that Saffron had spent most of the day with her.

  In many ways she would have preferred to remain shut up in her prison, but Nico insisted that she spend the day outside in the fresh air, exercising her limbs. She couldn't understand why, Saffron reflected cynically. She was convinced now that she would never leave the farmhouse alive. Every day Nico had driven into town waiting for news from her father. They had given him a week to raise the ransom, and five days of that week were already gone. Saffron had tried on several occasions to imagine her father's state of mind, the anxiety he must be going through, his frantic attempts to raise the cash, but her world had become bounded by her guards, speculation about what was happening outside her prison too painful to be endured for very long.

  Olivia had killed one of the scraggy chickens that scratched around the farmhouse and Saffron had casseroled it as best she could. It smelled quite appetising when she and Guido walked into the farmhouse. Nico was sitting down reading a newspaper, Olivia beside him, arms twined round him. He looked up and Saffron looked away immediately, her mouth tightening.

  'Your father at least shows some sense,' Nico commented. 'There is nothing in the papers about your disappearance, merely a small item in one of the London gossip columns to the effect that you are holidaying with friends.'

  His smile mocked and infuriated her, but Saffron refused to respond. She started, to walk towards the stairs and had almost reached them when he stretched out a hand and grasped her wrist. Saffron tensed, her glance drawn unwilling to meet his, their eyes clashing. Beneath the thin cotton shirt he was wearing she could see the dark crispness of his body hair. Something stirred inside her, alien and unwanted, and she pulled tensely away, desperate to escape the proximity of his body.

  'Where are you going?'

  'To my room.'

  How childish it sounded; petulant and sulky, almost.

  'Why?'

  His voice was cool, the word silky, but an atavistic apprehension shuddered down her spine.

  'Because I want to be alone,' she retorted flippantly. 'Any objections?'

  'Let her go, Nico,' Olivia urged. 'She cannot escape, and wouldn't try.' Her mouth curled contemptuously. 'She is too soft to know how to. All her life she has used her father's money and name to open doors for her; so much so that she is incapable now of opening them for herself.'

  That's not true! The words formed in her mind but were never spoken. Pride kept her silent, and honesty compelled her to admit that a year ago Olivia could have had good grounds for flinging the accusations at her.

  'Nico!'

  Piero's anxious undertone call from outside brought Olivia and Guido out of their chairs, and -Nico released Saffron's arm as he hurried to the door.

  Saffron caught the word 'police' and her heart leapt with hope. Could they be looking for her? Had Maria reported her absence and had the police realised what might have happened to her? If only she could attract their attention in someway!

  Tension filled the shabby farmhouse as the police vehicle bumped along the narrow track. The guns normally so much in evidence were put out of sight, only Guido playing warningly with the knife he always carried. Her mouth dry, Saffron heard the vehicle stop and then the sound of voices.

  The door was thrust open and two men in uniform strode in, their eyes inspecting the shabby room.

  'You have not been here very long?' one of them questioned, Nico who was lounging casually in front of her, but between her and the police, Olivia had slipped upstairs, and Nico had warned Saffron that were she to attempt to escape both she and the police would be shot down as they left. Saffron knew he was not exaggerating, but she couldn't let the opportunity pass without some attempt to alert the police.

  'I inherited the farm from my uncle,' Nico explained. 'It is run down, but we hope to set it to rights.'

  'You are not from round these parts?'

  Again Nico shrugged. 'From Roma,' he told them, 'but I prefer the country to the city, as do my brothers.'

  The man's eyes were on Saffron as his companion drifted round the room.

  'Your sister?' he questioned Nico.

  Blessing the fact that she could understand and speak Italian, Saffron interjected quickly, 'No, I...'

  'She is my wife,' Nico answered quickly, moving backwards, his arm coming round Saffron's tense shoulders in apparent affection. Only she was aware of the biting grasp of the fingers bruising her flesh and the warning flare in the smoke-grey eyes.

  'Will you stay and eat with us?'

  Refusing, the two men headed towards the door. Saffron moved frantically in the constricting circle of Nico's arm, praying that one of them would turn and see her distress, but although one of them hesitated, neither of them turned. Guido walked to their vehicle with the
m and as she listened to the fading voices a terrible enervating sickness filled her. Her final hope was gone, and total lethargic depression possessed her.

  Nico released her just as Olivia appeared from upstairs, her eyes moving suspiciously over them. Olivia was jealous, Saffron saw wearily, but she lacked the energy to make any use of the discovery. She was going to die. The knowledge filled and obsessed her. No matter what her father did he would not be able to save her. She shuddered and felt rather than saw Nico frown. Why was he pretending to feel concern for her? All of them knew that she was simply a commodity, a means of raising money for their cause. She fingered the still tender flesh of her face where he had struck her, feeding her hatred.

  Saffron had no appetite for the chicken casserole., She had eaten very little for breakfast either, and had to choke back bitter laughter when Nico ordered her to finish her meal.

  'Why?' she demanded. 'You're going to kill me anyway, so I might as well do the job for you.'

  Olivia laughed. 'She is not as stupid as I thought. Or perhaps she is trying to cultivate your pity, caro. She has read too many newspaper stories about the relationships that develop in these situations between captor and prey.'

  'You have to eat,' Nico told her unemotionally, ignoring Olivia. 'Has she been getting plenty of exercise?' he demanded of Guido.

  The other man shrugged. 'She has been working^ in the fields this afternoon.'

  'And every night one of us walks with her as you instructed,' Olivia told him.

  'You will eat, or I will feed you myself,' Nico told Saffron.

  'Have you heard anything from London?' Olivia interrupted him. 'Was there . .

  'So far her father has followed our instructions to the letter.' Nico told her. 'He is trying to raise the money and hopes to have it within the stipulated time.'

  'He'd better—otherwise we shall be sending his daughter back to him piecemeal.' Olivia's dark eyes glittered at the prospect, and this time when Saffron pushed her plate away untouched Nico made no attempt to chastise her.