And the garden's a perfect setting for a wedding.' Blair leaned forward and patted her friend's hand. 'At least let me be grateful that one good thing came out of everything that happened last month.'
'I just wish I knew what did happen,' Meryl said softly. 'You came back here looking as if you wanted to die, and you've been as closed-mouth as a sprung trap ever since.'
Blair rose and walked across the room, pausing at the french doors. She watched absent-mindedly as workmen completed the final arrangements in the Desmond garden for the next day's nuptials. Irritation sharpened her voice when she spoke.
'Come on, Meryl. I've told you the story a dozen times. Hunter and I spent a few uncomfortable days living in a drafty old farmhouse near Florence. He thought I was you .. .'
'He still thinks it,' Meryl said gently. 'Why won't you let Daddy tell him the truth?'
'What's the difference? It's not as if he and I will ever set eyes on each other again, Hunter's in Bahrain ...' Wherever that is,' Meryl muttered.
'Exactly. And I'm here. By the time he gets back, you and I will be In the States again.'
Meryl grinned. 'Don't forget Perry.'
'How could I?' Blair asked with a quick smile. 'Every time I look up, there he is, drooling all over you.' Meryl got to her feet and crossed the room to Blair's side. 'Don't knock it till you try it, kid,' she said softly. 'I didn't mean that. I. . .'
'I know you didn't. In fact, if I didn't know it was crazy, I'd swear you were carrying a torch for the mysterious Mr Hunter.' Meryl touched Blair's shoulder. 'That is crazy, isn't it? I mean, you didn't fall for the iceman, did you?'
'The iceman?'
Meryl shrugged. 'That's what Daddy calls him. He says it's one of the reasons Hunter's so effective-you know, that he has no emotions.' She gave Blair a sidelong glance. 'Or is Daddy wrong?'
A blush spread across Blair's cheeks. 'I don't know what you're talking about. I .. .'
'You're really a terrible liar, you know that?' Meryl sighed and put her arm around Blair's shoulders.
Something happened to you while you were with Hunter.
I just wish you'd confide in me.'
Blair pulled away from her employer's hand. 'Yes all right,' she said suddenly, 'something did. But there's no point in talking about it. You can't help me. Nobody can. I .. .' Her voice broke and she turned her face away.
'Oh, lord .. .' Meryl's eyebrows rose in disbelief. 'You're in love with him,' she said softly. 'Really in love with him, I mean.'
Perhaps it was the scent of the orange blossoms banked in the adjoining library, or the gaily striped tent the caterers were even now raising in the garden. Whatever it was, three weeks of denial, of light-hearted anecdotes about the days she'd spent playing at being Meryl Desmond, came to a crashing halt. Blair leaned her forehead against the french doors.
'Yes,' she admitted in a tremulous whisper, 'I'm in love with him.'
Meryl watched her in stunned silence, and then she drew in her breath. 'I knew it was something,' she murmured. 'I thought it was a crush. You know, just one of those things that happens.'
'One of those things that happens describes it perfectly,' Blair said bitterly. 'It was all one-sided. I fell in love with him, but he didn't fall in love with me.'
'You mean, you told him how you felt and he ...' 'No, no, of course not. But he ...' Her eyes clouded with the memory of that last morning. 'He made it clear enough,' she finished quietly.
'Why? What did he say? What happened?' 'Nothing,' Blair sighed. 'It's ... it's hard to explain. I woke up and went into the kitchen that last morning and he was sitting there, drinking coffee and reading.' Her glance roved across the room. 'Reading a magazine like that, as a matter of fact. And he ... he simply said ... he said it had been nice knowing me, but he had to get back to work.'
Just like that?'
She nodded. 'Close enough. And then ... and then when he dropped me off here, at the villa, he said something ... he said something so awful, so cruel ...'
'What?'
Blair took a breath. 'He said ... he said I was lucky he hadn't kilo . .' She swallowed and shook her head. 'It doesn't matter. He just reverted to type, that's all. He's a strange man, Meryl. Hard, do you know what I mean? Unyielding .. .'
'Yes, I know what you mean,' Meryl said grimly. 'He's a bastard. And he can just go find himself another employer. I'll tell my father not to renew his contract.'
Blair shook her head. 'No, please, don't do that.' Her eyes sought Meryl's. 'He's good at what he does,' she said softly. 'I ... I never felt safer in my life than when I was with him.'
Meryl Desmond's eyes brimmed with sudden understanding. 'Poor baby,' she whispered.
Blair lifted her chin. 'I'll get over it.'
'Of course you will,' her employer said with false good cheer. 'Just wait until you see the gorgeous waiters the caterer uses. Why, if Perry's not careful, I may just substitute one of them!'
Blair laughed and wiped her hand roughly across her eyes. 'Not if I see him first,' she said, linking her arm through Meryl's. 'Now, come on and give me another peek at that dress of yours. I don't think I've ever seen anything lovelier.'
It was all the wedding preparations that had finally got to her, Blair thought late that evening as she let herself quietly into the garden behind the villa. It was as Meryl had said: she'd been a bit subdued since Hunter had returned her to Rome, but she'd managed to keep up a pretty good front. It hadn't been too difficult, actually. Oscar Desmond had never met her before, and Meryl had been busy arranging the wedding that had apparently gone into the planning stage the very day Blair had been 'abducted'. Oh, Meryl had teased her about Hunter and all the the time they'd spent alone together, but Blair had managed to shrug off all her questions until today.
Until today, she thought again, staring into the shadowed garden. But, today, the blue and white wedding tent had risen against the dark green cypresses; today, the caterer had wheeled in a four-tier cake with a tiny bride and groom perched on top; today, Meryl had pirouetted before the mirror in her antique lace wedding dress, a look of such bliss on her face that Blair's heartache had become suddenly more than she could bear.
It was foolish, romantic nonsense, that's all it was.
Hunter had never spoken of love or commitment. He'd whispered of desire and pleasure, yes, and he'd given her that, God, he had, he had ...
She shivered as a nightingale called softly from the rear of the garden. He'd looked so amazed when she'd accused him of treating her so carelessly-and then he'd said she was lucky he hadn't killed her. It had made no sense then and it made none now, weeks later, but the memory of how he'd looked when he'd said it, the coldness in his silver eyes, the twist to his mouth-she would never forget any of it. She still awoke in the dark night, her heart pounding, remembering his face, his words, the whispered threat.
She looked up as the nightingale called again. The answer was to forget Hunter, forget everything he'd said and done. She dug her hands into the pockets of her cotton skirt as she started along the gravel path leading to a reflecting pool in the cypress grove. She'd tried, heaven knew. She'd let Perry talk her into going out on a double date with his best man, a perfectly nice boy who'd flown over from the States. But he was a boy, not a man, certainly not a man like Hunter, and 'when he'd kissed her goodnight, the touch of his lips had only reminded her that no man had ever kissed her the way Hunter had, that no man had ever touched her as he had, that just thinking of him could make her tremble.
'Stop it,' she said.
Her voice seemed unnaturally loud in the silent garden, and she shivered again. It was getting dark quickly; she thought she remembered this area being illuminated, that there were lights set in among the cypresses, but it was dark. Perhaps the workmen had disconnected a wire or something. .. A sudden, hot wind rustled through the trees and the branches made a sound that was strangely like a moan. Blair paused and looked around her. The garden was a cheerful place by day, but it seemed omminous
now, the trees tall and black against the inky sky, the moon caught in the branches of a pine that stood lonely on the Janiculum Hill overlooking the city. Something called out in the darkness, something small and frightened, and the hair rose on the back of Blair's neck.
She turned quickly and faced the villa. She could see its lights gleaming brightly, beckoning to her cheerfully through the shadows. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was letting her imagination run away with her. Don't go out of the villa alone, Meryl's father had warned them both, and neither girl had, but there were no restrictions against walking the grounds. There were guards and dogs and all kinds of electronic gadgets, the kind Hunter had told her about, and ...
A pair of strong arms snaked around her from the rear, enclosing her like the coils of a python, one hard muscled coil lying just beneath her breasts, the other resting lightly against her throat. Blair opened her mouth to scream, but a hand closed over her mouth, a large, leather-gloved hand that pressed firmly against her lips. Terror flooded through her, turning her legs to jelly.
'Not a sound.' The man's voice was a toneless whisper against her ear; his breath was warm as it stirred the hair on the side of her head. 'Do you understand me?' Fear made her rigid. He repeated the question and Blair nodded. 'Good. If you do as you're told, you'll be all right.'
She nodded again. Her heart was thumping crazily in her chest; she wondered if the intruder could feel the leap of her pulse beneath his wrist. She was pressed tightly against him, her weight tilted back 'so that most of it was on her heels. It was a position that made it impossible for her to run or struggle. She could feel the hard, muscled length of him pressing into her from thigh to shoulder. His heartbeat was slow and strong beneath her ear, but the rasp of his breath was ragged, as if he'd been running. His lips brushed her earlobe again.
'There's a gate in the rear of the cypress grove,' he whispered. 'Do you know it? She nodded once more. Yes, she knew the gate. She'd found it one day by accident. It was old, rusted from disuse and overgrown with creeping tendrils of ivy. 'We're going out that way,' he murmured. His words made her stiffen, and he drew her even more closely against him. 'You'll be all right if you behave. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you give me the slightest cause. Do you understand?'
Blair nodded again. A chill danced along her flesh as the intruder's arms curled around her waist. 'Move,' he ordered, bringing her tightly into the hard curve of his body as he led her deeper into the grove. 'Not a sound,' he warned, his lips pressed to her ear.
Her heart tripped within her chest as he spoke. The heat of his breath against her skin made her tremble, but this time with something that was not quite terror. For Blair had suddenly put a name to the sound of the whispered voice and the feel of the powerful body pressed against hers.
It was Hunter.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE rusted gate swung open easily-so easily that Blair knew it had been tampered with. Hunter slipped through the tangle of ivy and drew her into the street that curved behind the villa. His hand lay hot and heavy against her ribs, his fingers like steel rode just beneath her breast. The hot August night was silent around them, tense and expectant.
B!air stumbled to a halt as the gate closed soundlessly behind them. The narrow, cobblestoned street was empty. Not even one of Rome's omnipresent street cats out scavenging a night-time meal, was visible. Even the cats are afraid to show themselves... It was an irrational thought, but tendrils of fear were spreading within Blair’s mind like the searching roots of an evil flower.
'Move,' Hunter rasped.
She began to do as he'd ordered, and then she spotted the silver Lamborghini at the kerb. For a moment, she almost laughed aloud. He wasn't doing a very good job of disguising himself. Was all this some kind of insane game?
'Hunter,' she said, 'I know it's you.'
His laughter was soft and unpleasant. 'Clever girl,' he whispered, pulling her back against him until her head rested beneath his chin. 'Now, do as 1 tell you. Get moving.'
Her heart thudded against her ribs. 'This is crazy' she said. 'It's …’
His arms tightened around her. 'When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Go on, get into the car.'
'No,' she whispered, dragging her feet against the. uneven cobblestones. 'No, I won't, I .. .'
'Do it!'
Her heart thudded again, and she hurried to obey the snarling command. All right, she thought, it wasn't a game, not that she'd really believed it could be. Hunter didn't play at things like this-no one knew that better than she. And there was no point in trying to get away as he crossed to the driver's side of the car. He was faster than she was and much, much stronger-no one knew that better than she. The memory of the first time he'd abducted her was still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
She watched as he stabbed the key into the ignition and pressed down hard on the accelerator. What was he up to? There had been a logical reason when he'd carried her off at the airport. He'd been trying to save her well, trying to save Meryl Desmond-from harm. That was why he'd snatched her then ...
Was that it? Was something terrible happening at the villa? Yes, she thought, yes, of course. That was why Hunter had taken her away so quickly. There hadn't been any time for explanations or ...
She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see someone following them, and Hunter laughed.
'Don't bother looking. There won't be anyone back there.'
'Yes, but if something's going on at the villa .. .' He looked at her, his raised eyebrows visible in the headlights of an oncoming car. 'Isn't that why ...' Blair's voice faltered. 'Isn't that why you did this? Because there was danger?'
He laughed again and looked back at the road. 'With three Rottweilers patrolling the grounds, half a dozen infra-red videocams and trip beams criss-crossing every access point? No, nothing's happening at the villa, Blair.' He looked at her and his teeth flashed whitely. 'Just wedding preparations,' he said softly. 'And there's nothing dangerous about that, is there?'
She looked away from him and stared into the darkness. 'Then why are you doing this, Hunter? What do you want from me?'
He shifted into higher gear as they reached the open road. 'Settle back and relax, Blair. You've probably had a busy day-weddings take a lot of effort, don't they?'
His voice was low and soothing, but it did nothing to calm her. He was talking to her as if she were a child or an incompetent, she thought, and the anger began to grow within her.
'You can't get away with this, Hunter,' she said. 'You can't just ... just kidnap somebody.'
The car picked up speed as the black Italian countryside gathered them in.
'Just settle down and take it easy. No one's going to miss you for quite a while, and by the time they do ...'
'They'll call the police,' she said angrily. 'Has that occurred to you? The roads will be crawling with cops before you get a chance to do ... to do whatever it is you're doing. You may have gotten away with kidnapping me last time, but you won't be able to do it twice.'
He turned to her and laughed. 'Just watch me, Miss Desmond. I've planned it right down to the final detail.' His laughter died abruptly. 'And I don't leave anything to chance,' he said coldly. 'You should know that by now. So just sit back ...'
'Damn you, Hunter,' she said furiously, 'stop telling me that! I want to know why you abducted me. What do you want?'
He turned his face to hers. She could see nothing but his eyes, those cold silver flames burning within his shadowed face, and her throat constricted with fear. 'Are you sure you really want to know?'
Was this the man she was in love with? she thought, staring into his hard face. She must have been crazy! He was-he was just what Meryl had called him. He was an iceman. Worse than that. He was the sum of all the things he'd said he'd been-a soldier, a spy, a man who would do what he had to do and then justify it with some chauvinistic code of honour.
Her throat constricted with fear. 'No,' she w
hispered, 'no, I don't want to know. I just want you to turn this car around and take me back.'
'We're not going back.'
She knew that flat, steel-grey tone, she thought, closing her eyes. When he sounded that way, she knew there was no changing his mind about anything. Still, she had to try. She shifted towards him, turning her face to him.
'Hunter,' she said carefully, 'please, just listen. You ...' His mouth tightened. 'Shut up.'
'Dammit, Hunter .. .'
'You're boring me, Blair.'
He reached towards the cassette player set into the dashboard. Within seconds, the dramatic opening chords of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony filled the car.
'I can't talk over that noise,' she said. 'Can't you turn it down?'
But noise was exactly what he'd wanted. Each time she opened her mouth, he increased the volume of the tape. Finally, when her eardrums couldn't take another decibel, she clamped her lips together and sat back in stony silence.
A Flood of Sweet Fire Page 16
