'Jesus,' he murmured again.
Blair swallowed. 'Why did you do that?' she whispered.
'I... I...' He ran -his hand through his hair. 'Why the hell do you think?' he demanded roughly. 'Did you really think I'd let you get away with that crap? What you need is a gag.'
Colour sprang to her cheeks. Of course. What was the matter with her, anyway? She'd been calling for help. That was why he'd kissed her. To silence her. To stop her. She glanced over his shoulder. The group of men were whispering among themselves. She opened her mouth, and Hunter's arm slid around her waist.
'Hey, signori,' he yelled, 'e uno spettacolo splendido, si?'
A string of musical Italian words poured from Hunter's lips. His tone was light, humorous, and after a couple of minutes the old men began to chuckle and then to laugh aloud. The younger man across the road sighed and nodded in apparent agreement.
'What did you tell them?' Blair muttered.
Hunter's arm tightened around her. 'That women are the same all over, that they need a little rough handling once in a while.'
'They won't buy that.'
His lips drew back from his teeth. 'They already have.
This is the old world, Blair, not the playgrounds you're used to. Now be quiet, or I'll shut you up again. Get into the car.'
She climbed into the Lamborghini stiffly, buckling her seat-belt before he had the chance to order her to do it. Hunter got into the driver's seat and started the engine. 'Wave and smile to our admirers, Blair. Do it!' he rasped when she didn't comply.
She waved mechanically, falling back against the seat as the car roared away from the trattoria. She sat silently while the engine climbed from gear to gear, until she was sure the little restaurant was far behind them, and then she turned stiffly towards Hunter.
'Don't ever do that again,' she said softly. 'Do you hear me?'
He looked over at her and then back at the road. His hands tightened on the wheel.
'Don't make empty threats, Blair,' he said softly. 'You know damned well you liked it.'
She stared at him for what seemed an eternity, and then she lay her head back on the seat and turned her face to the window. God help me, she thought, closing her eyes, he's right!
CHAPTER FOUR
BLAIR'S eyes flew open and she stared into the darkness. For a fraction of a heartbeat she wondered where she was, and then, all too soon, she remembered. She was still an unwilling passenger in the Lamborghini, still trapped in this narrow space with her abductor. And they were still racing north into the night. Finding compass points wasn't her strong suit, but even she had finally figured out in which direction they were travelling.
She shifted carefully in the leather seat, trying to ease her aching muscles without calling Hunter's attention to the fact that she was awake. How long had she been asleep? she wondered. An hour? Two? The last thing she remembered was watching the sun turn the hills orange and gold. And Hunter's voice. It was the first time he'd spoken to her since they'd left the ristorante.
'Get some sleep,' he'd said roughly. 'We have a long way to go.'
Her response had been automatic. 'I'm not tired,' she'd said, but it hadn't been true. She'd been exhausted, as worn mentally as she was physically, and as the landscape grew dark, she'd finally put her head back and closed her eyes, falling quickly into deep, dreamless sleep.
Not that it had helped much. She was still tired. The headache she'd lied about earlier was a real one now, making her wince each time she moved her head. And she ached from hours of sitting in the cramped confines of the car. How much longer would this go on? she thought, and then she shuddered. The worst might still lay ahead. There was no way to know what lay at the end of this endless journey. Perhaps Hunter was planning to cross the border. Switzerland lay in this direction, and Austria, even Yugoslavia. Fear knotted her gut. How would anyone ever find her there?
Don't think about it, Blair. Think positively.
Positively. All right, then maybe he was taking her to some hideout in Italy. Maybe his accomplices were waiting for him. Maybe they wouldn't be quite as careful in their treatment of her as Hunter had been. Maybe, once he had her in some safe, out-of-the-way place, someone would be careless. Maybe ...
'Are you awake?'
Blair swallowed. 'Yes,' she said, making her voice flat, trying not to betray her concern.
'You slept for a long time. How's the headache?' She wondered, for a second, how he knew she had one, and then she remembered the lie she'd told him earlier.
'Not terrific,' she said. 'Are we stopping soon?'
She felt him turn towards her, and she kept her eyes riveted on the blackness ahead. 'Soon,' he said non-committally.
'How soon?'
'I'm afraid I can't give you an exact time,' he said, his words weighted with sarcasm. 'An hour, give or take a few minutes. Is that good enough?'
'No,' she said sharply, and she felt a rush of heat to her cheeks. 'I have to go to the bathroom,' she said, deliberately saying the words clearly and without hesitation. It was humiliating enough to have to announce her need, as if she were a child. She wasn't about to make things worse by dancing around the subject.
'Can't you wait?' he asked impatiently.
'Can't you miss a chance to embarrass me?' she snapped. 'No, I cannot wait. You'll have to find a place to stop. A hotel or a garage ...' She spun towards him " at the sound of his laughter. 'I'm glad you find this so amusing, Mr Hunter.'
He shook his head. 'Your arrogance amazes me, Miss Desmond. Where in hell do you think you're going to find a garage or a hotel? I'm sure the comfort facilities on the roads around Monte Carlo or Gstaad are luxurious, but there's not much call for such things in Tuscany.'
Tuscany. They they were somewhere near Florence, weren't they? Wasn't that what she'd seen on the map in the Alitalia magazine? 'People are people, Mr Hunter,' she said stiffly. 'And we all have the same needs.'
He sighed. 'All right, Blair, you've made your point.
Just hang on a second .. .'
She grasped the dashboard as the car skidded to the side of the road. It slowed to a stop, the engine still running.
'Well, go on,' he said, reaching across her and opening the door. 'Make it fast.'
'Go on ... You mean, you mean just ...' She stared into the darkness and then at the man beside her., 'You mean you want me to ... to .. .' .
He grinned. 'I don't want you to do anything. This was your idea, remember?'
'But there's nothing here. Just a field.' She stared at him, and then she turned away quickly and stepped from the car, cheeks burning. The night was as black as any she could recall. It was pointless to even try and escape, she thought, looking ahead. She was in a fenced field as far as she could tell, although she couldn't see further than a foot or so in any direction. Tall grass brushed against her trousered legs as she slipped through a gate. Something skittered underfoot and she faltered, stifling the desire to cry out, knowing it would only make Hunter laugh, and she'd given him more than enough chance to do that in the past few moments. There was a lone tree a few paces ahead, a cypress by its shadowy outline, and she marched towards it, hoping it would provide adequate shelter. A few moments later, she stalked back to the car. Head held high, she opened the door and climbed in.
'Feeling better?'
'I'm amazed you trusted me to go off on my own,' she said, staring straight ahead and deliberately ignoring his remark.
He gave a snort of laughter. 'Trust didn't have a damned thing to do with it.' He took a tubular, black object from the back seat. 'This is a starlight scope,' he said. 'You couldn't have hidden from me, even in the dark.' He glanced at her, and then back at the road. 'I'll always be one step ahead of you, Blair,' he said softly. 'Just keep that in mind before you try anything foolish.'
'My head hurts,' she said sharply. 'I need some aspirin.'
Hunter sighed again. 'Try the glove compartment.
There should be a tin of aspirin in it.'
<
br /> She leaned forwards and opened the compartment.
To her surprise, it was messy, not neat and well organized as she'd expected. She rummaged through it, finding old road maps, half a pack of mints, some loose coins. And then, finally, her fingers closed around a small tin. She pulled it towards her, and as she did something clattered into her lap. Cassette recordings, she realized, and then Hunter's hand brushed against her arm.
'We might as well have music,' he said, taking the tapes from her lap. 'Any particular preferences?'
'Yes,' she said drily. 'An old vaudeville song-it's called "Show Me the Way to Go Home". Do you know it?'
Hunter laughed as he pushed the button on the cassette player. 'Relax, Blair. We'll be there soon.'
Where? she wondered, popping two aspirin tablets into her mouth." Not home. Not anywhere even approximating home. She made a face and forced the tablets down her dry throat. And then what? The thought of meeting with Hunter's accomplices terrified her, yet the thought of spending the night alone with him terrified her even more. He hadn't referred to what had happened at the trattoria. And he hadn't tried to touch her since. Not that that meant a damned thing. He'd taken advantage of her twice already, hadn't he? And he'd made it clear he'd do it again, if it suited his purposes. The thing to do, then, was not to give him the opportunity. She'd do as she was told and ...
The rich sounds of a symphony orchestra filled the car, and Blair turned towards Hunter, her eyebrows arched in stunned surprise.
'The Albinoni Adagio?' She could no more have kept herself from speaking than she could have sprouted wings and flown. 'Is that your tape? I mean, does it belong to you?'
There was a second's pause before Hunter replied. 'Yes,' he said coldly. 'Doesn't it meet with your approval?'
'I didn't mean that. I ... I love Albinoni. I just didn't, I mean, nobody .. .'
'You expected something else, is that correct?
Torquemada and the Grand Inquisitors, perhaps, or the Four Horsemen and the Apocalypse .. .'
'No,' Blair said again, 'I just never .. .'
'Never pictured someone like me enjoying it, is that right?'
Dear God, she thought, I've antagonized him. 'I never thought about what you might enjoy one way or the other,' she said calmly. 'It's just that you don't often stumble across anyone who likes baroque music.'
She heard him let out his breath. 'And I'd never have guessed you'd recognize a symphony, much less something by Albinoni,' he said after a bit. 'So I guess that makes us even.'
She nodded stiffly. She'd have to watch herself, she thought. There was no point in angering him. Her safety-her very life-might depend on it. The poignant strains of the music flowed over her. He'd been right, of course, she thought, stealing a surreptitious glance at him. She had, indeed, been stunned at his taste in music. What was that saying? 'Music has charms to soothe a savage breast .. .'
Blair's eyes closed and her lips curved upwards.
Torquemada and the Grand Inquisitors, for heaven's sake! Here she sat, racing through the night in a car with a man who liked classical music, a man with a quick intelligence and a sense of humour, a man whose kisses made her tremble ...
A man who abducted you for ransom, Blair! Have you forgotten that?
Her eyes flew open and she sat up straight in the seat.
What in God's name was happening to her? Was she crazy? Hunter was her enemy! He was her captor. He had kidnapped her, and now he was taking her to some unknown place where anything might happen, anything ...
Hunter's gruff voice broke into her thoughts. 'We're here. End of the line, Blair. Let's go.'
Her heart began to thud like a caged bird beating its wings in fear. They were parked on a hilltop; she could see the hulking shape of a small house beside the car. Hunter came around to her side and opened the door.
'Watch your step,' he said. 'The ground is uneven.' She got out of the car stiffly, ignoring his outstretched hand. End of the line, he'd said. Was that just a poor choice of words, or was it something more?
'Hunter,' she said with sudden urgency, 'listen, I ...''Come on,' he said impatiently. 'Get moving.'
She took a hesitant step forwards, and then another.
It was too dark to see anything, but she sensed that they were in some isolated place, far from any town. Gravel crunched softly underfoot; she smelled the faint scent of jasmine on the night breeze. Hunter's hand closed around her wrist.
'There are three steps here. Easy on the second one it sags a little.'
She tried to draw away from him, but that only made his fingers close around her more tightly. I won't run, she wanted to tell him, not now, not when my legs can barely support me, but she seemed to be having trouble breathing. He was speaking to her again, but she couldn't hear him over the heavy beat of her heart. His hand slipped to her waist, lying heavy against her thin cotton sweater.
'Wait,' he was saying, and finally she nodded.
She heard the jingle of keys and the door swung open.
The end of the line, she thought again, staring into impenetrable blackness. Hunter's hand urged her forwards. 'Let's go,' he murmured.
Blair swallowed. 'I can't see anything, Hunter.' 'You don't have to see anything. Just move.' 'Just tell me if .. .'
'Move, dammit!'
His hand slid to the small of her back and propelled her forwards. The heavy darkness of the house closed around her as the door swung shut. She stood absolutely still, all her senses sharp, expectant, trying to acclimatize herself to her surroundings.
'Could ... could you turn on a light? Please?' She heard the fear in her voice and hated herself for it. Could Hunter hear it, too?
'In a minute,' he said. The sound of his footsteps echoed across the floor. 'Just let me ... OK, I've got it.'
She heard the scrape of a match, saw its yellow flare in the dark, and then an eerie golden glow lit the room, throwing Hunter's face into terrifying relief. He held a kerosene lantern in his hand, and she watched as he adjusted the flame to a warm, yellow glow. Then he set the lantern on a table and walked towards her.
'Are we ... isn't there anyone else here?'
He smiled unpleasantly. 'No, there's no staff, Blair.
Sorry.'
'Isn't there ... isn't there any electricity?'
'No electricity, no indoor plumbing, no room service.
I knew you'd love it here.'
Blair glanced cautiously around the room. It looked worn and old. A farmhouse, she thought, looking at the roughly hewn table on which Hunter had placed the lantern. A woodstove and some cupboards lined one wall. There was a sink next to the stove; water dripped slowly from a pump-handled spigot into the rusted basin.
Hunter was watching her with a strange expression on his face. 'What's the matter, Blair?' he asked softly. 'Are you frightened?'
'Why should I be frightened?' she asked quickly, hoping she sounded more positive than she felt. She took a steadying breath. 'It's in your best interests to keep me safe, isn't it, Mr Hunter?'
He nodded. 'That's the name of the game, yes.'
It wasn't the end of the line, then. Blair turned away from him, almost shuddering with relief.
'I see we have running water,' she said into the silence. 'Such as it is. It's fresh and clean, but cold as hell.' Hunter jerked his head to the rear. 'There's an outhouse out back.'
'Well, then,' she said brightly, 'we have all the amenities. A kitchen, a bathroom, water .. .'
'And a bed.'
He had spoken softly, almost in a whisper. Blair looked across the room at him. He was staring at her with narrowed eyes, a faint half-smile on his mouth. Her heartbeat quickened.
'The Tuscany Hilton,' she said in that same brightly artificial voice, carefully ignoring what he'd said and the way in which he'd said it. 'You did say we were in Tuscany, didn't you?'·
'Does it matter?'
Blair walked across the room. 'Of course it matters.
How can I send postcards t
o all my friends if I don't know where we are?' Her voice trembled and broke on the last few words. Don't fall apart now, Blair ...
'What is it, Blair? Is the headache worse?'
She shook her head. She could feel the sudden pressure of tears in her eyes and she bit down on her lower lip. 'No,' she said sharply. 'I ... I just .. .' Her voice broke again and she turned away so he couldn't see her face. 'I just. .. I'm upset, that's all. I don't suppose you could possibly understand that, Mr Hunter. Not that it would matter to you. Not that .. .'
A Flood of Sweet Fire Page 5
