Count Valieri's Prisoner. Sara CravenЧитать онлайн книгу.
to get dressed, she thought, if only she knew where her clothes were.
She wondered too what time it was—and that was when she realised, with shock, that not only was she no longer wearing her wristwatch, but that, even more alarmingly, her engagement ring was also missing.
And it’s not just my clothes, she thought frantically, as she shot bolt upright, suddenly wide awake as she stared round the room. Where’s my bag? My money, passport, credit cards, mobile phone, tape recorder—everything?
Suddenly, the fact that she was next door to naked in a strange bed, in a strange house in the middle of God only knew where, took on a new and frightening significance.
And even if there was a perfectly innocent explanation, the noble Count Valieri was going to have some serious explaining to do—when they finally met.
The next moment, Maddie heard a key rattle, and a section of the wall opposite the bed swung open, revealing that, in this case, it was a real door and not a pretence.
But it was not the man in the portrait, her expected elderly host who entered. Her visitor was male but younger, tall, lean, olive-skinned and, in some strange way, familiar. Yet how could that be? she asked herself, perplexed, when she was quite certain that she’d never seen that starkly chiselled, arrogant face before in her life, or those amazing golden brown eyes, currently flicking over her with something very near disdain.
‘So you have woken at last.’
It was the voice that jogged her memory. The cool, peremptory tones she’d last heard ordering her into the Count’s car outside the opera house. Only now, instead of the chauffeur’s tunic and peaked cap of their previous encounter, he was wearing chinos and a black polo shirt, unbuttoned at his tanned throat, this casual dress emphasising the width of his shoulders, the narrowness of his hips and his long legs. He looked strong and tough without an ounce of excess weight.
A factor that only served to increase her unease, which she knew she must be careful not to show.
However, realising how much of her the sapphire nightgown was revealing in turn, she made a belated snatch at the embroidered linen sheet.
‘Obviously,’ she returned with a snap, angrily aware of a faintly derisive smile curling his hard mouth. She paused, taking a deep, calming breath. ‘You’re the Count’s driver, so presumably you brought me here.’ Wherever here is.
‘Sì, signorina.’
‘The problem is I can’t quite remember what happened. Have I been ill? And how long have I been asleep?’
He shrugged. ‘About twelve hours.’
‘Twelve hours?’ Maddie repeated. Then, her voice rising, ‘That long?
That’s impossible.’
‘You fell asleep in the car. And you were still morta—sleeping like the dead when we arrived.’
‘Then how did I get here—like this?’
‘I carried you,’ he said. Adding, ‘And you continued to sleep quite happily in my arms as I did so.’
Her mouth went dry as she assimilated that. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said hoarsely. ‘There must have been something—in the coffee. Or that water in the car. You drugged me.’
His mouth tightened. ‘Now you are being absurd,’ he stated coldly.
She waved an impatient hand. ‘Well—maybe. But I don’t understand why you didn’t take me back to my hotel.’
‘Because the Count wished you to be brought here.’
‘Well, that was kind of him—I suppose. But I prefer to stick to my own arrangements. Perhaps you would thank him and tell him I’d like to leave.’
‘That will not be possible. You are going nowhere, signorina. You will remain here until arrangements for your release have been concluded with your family in Britain.’
There was a taut silence, then Maddie said unevenly, ‘Are you telling me that I’ve been kidnapped?’
‘Yes,’ he said, adding laconically, ‘I regret the necessity.’
‘Oh you’re going to have regrets all right,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘When you find yourself in court. And don’t think a plea of insanity will spare you.’
‘I would not think of offering one, even if there were to be a court case—which I guarantee there will not.’ He paused. ‘And I am completely rational, I assure you.’
‘In which case,’ Maddie said stormily, ‘you can prove it by returning my belongings and arranging for that other man—Camillo—to take me to Trimontano for the rest. Instantly.’
‘That is not going to happen. Your possessions have already been collected from the hotel and brought here.’
Maddie gasped. ‘Who decided this?’
‘I did.’
‘Then here’s a decision that I’ve made,’ she said icily. ‘I came to Italy to interview a woman who was once a singer called Floria Bartrando. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of her.’
‘The name is familiar.’
‘You amaze me.’ She gave him a stony look. ‘Your boss, Count Valieri was supposed to be acting as go-between, and I understood there was a need for a measure of secrecy about the project. But this—abduction—this is total madness. And it stops here.
‘The deal over the Bartrando interview is off, and I’m leaving as soon as I get my luggage back.’
‘And I say that you stay as you are and where you are.’ He added softly, ‘Until I choose otherwise.’
He walked towards the bed, and, in spite of her previous resolution, Maddie found herself shrinking back against the pillows. She said, ‘Don’t come near me. Don’t dare to touch me.’
He halted, his mouth twisting contemptuously. ‘You flatter yourself, signorina. Let me assure you that your body is of no interest to me, except as a commodity to be exchanged when my negotiations with your family are complete.’
She was silent, thoughts scurrying through her head. She knew of course that people were taken hostage, but these were mainly wealthy tourists who’d strayed into dangerous places. Not a TV researcher looking for a lost soprano in a supposedly civilised backwater.
She said slowly, ‘You—you really mean you’re holding me for ransom? That I’m your hostage?’
He frowned. ‘A crude term. Let us say instead that you will remain here as my guest until the deal is done.’
‘Then I’ll be here for a bloody long time,’ she flung back at him. ‘My God, now I know you’re crazy. My family haven’t that sort of money. My uncle’s the headmaster of a school, and my aunt helps in a local nursery. So they couldn’t pay you in a hundred years.’
‘But I was not talking about them. I was referring to the family you are about to marry into—who are rich,’ he said quietly, sending a chill down her spine. ‘And it will cost them a great deal to get you back—unharmed.’
Maddie stared up at the dark, cold face, her lips parted in shock.
She thought, ‘He wants money from Jeremy and his father? But why? Just because they’re wealthy?’
She said, her voice shaking, ‘You can’t possibly mean this.’
‘Have I not made it clear that I do?’
‘But you can’t have thought about the consequences,’ she persisted. ‘You’ll get years in jail when you’re caught. Your life will be wasted.’
She saw his mouth harden, and his eyes fill with unutterable bleakness. He looked, she thought, as if he too had been carved