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Prisoner Of Passion. Lynne GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.

Prisoner Of Passion - Lynne Graham


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      ‘Ap-pearances?’ she prompted jerkily.

      ‘Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to plan this operation and take the minimum number of risks,’ Rico pointed out. ‘The necessities of life have been supplied. We have food and water. They have no immediate need to venture into further contact with us. They must be very confident we cannot escape. This leads me to believe that for the moment we are as safe as it is possible to be in such a situation.’

      ‘S-safe?’

      ‘I would feel more threatened if one of them was sitting in here with us,’ Rico said drily. ‘Or someone had come along to tell me to stop making such a racket when I was thumping the walls.’

      ‘The noise—that was you,’ she registered, shaking her head.

      ‘I wanted to know if there was a guard out there...or even if it was possible to attract anyone’s attention. But, this time, no joy.’ His sculpted mouth tightened to a thin, hard line. ‘However, we will keep on trying. There is always the chance that we could be heard at any time of the day or night.’

      ‘Yes.’ He was giving her something to hang on to—a slender hope. Bella nodded, almost sick with the nerves that were threatening her wavering composure. He had had the time and privacy supplied by her unconsciousness to come to terms with their situation. She had not had that time or that privacy. She was angry and scared to the same degree. Somebody had deprived her of the most basic of human rights—freedom. But even worse than that was the terror that in the end they might take her life as well.

      ‘You hear that silence?’ His nostrils flared as he flung his dark head back. ‘Now we listen for some sound of humanity—traffic, a dog barking... anything.’

      ‘These walls would act like double glazing, I bet. A friend of mine has just got new windows in and you can’t hear the traffic through them...’ Her voice trailed to a halt as she glimpsed Rico’s arrested expression. ‘Sorry, I sort of rattle on some—’

      ‘Stop rattling,’ he articulated with ruthless precision.

      ‘You mentioned food?’

      ‘In the fridge.’

      ‘Enough for two?’ she whispered as it suddenly dawned on her that his kidnappers could never have planned on having to imprison two people.

      ‘We’ll conserve it as far as possible. The same with the light. We have no idea how long we will be here,’ he delivered smoothly.

      The wild idea that in a strange way Rico da Silva was in his element occurred to her. It doused her urge to scream and shout uncontrollably. Pride kept her quiet. There he was, certainly tense but on the surface as cool as ice.

      ‘Anybody could be forgiven for thinking that this has happened to you before!’ she muttered with scantily leashed resentment.

      ‘I have been prepared for this situation by professionals. Although I admit I did not expect to have to put what I learnt into action.’

      Bella flashed through the beaded curtain and sank down on the chair by the table. Wrapping her hands together, she bowed her head. She just could not believe that this was happening to her. She just could not credit that she had been kidnapped. That was something that occurred to strangers in the headlines... and they didn’t all come out alive! Her stomach heaved again.

      ‘How rich are you, Rico?’ she asked in a wobbly voice.

      ‘Filthy rich.’

      ‘Good.’

      He had said that the kidnapping had been well organised. Hopefully they were not in the hands of maniacs. There would be a ransom demand and Rico’s bank or his family or whatever, she thought vaguely, would pay up and they would be released just as soon as the money was handed over.

      ‘Will they want money for me?’ she muttered helplessly.

      ‘I doubt it.’

      She was worthless. His own assertion to the kidnappers drifted back to her. And she didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, an innocent bystander caught up in something that was nothing to do with her. And it was his fault. But for him she wouldn’t have been in that car park! On the other hand, if anything happened to Rico—if, for instance, stress made him drop dead with a coronary—the kidnappers might just kill her to get rid of her. ‘Surplus to requirements’... Nobody was going to pay for her release!

      ‘Are you healthy?’ she whispered.

      ‘Very.’

      In silent relief she nodded. But still she couldn’t believe that it was real. Just twenty-four hours ago she had not even known that Rico da Silva walked this earth. Helplessly she pointed out to him that this time yesterday they had not even met.

      ‘And wasn’t ignorance bliss?’

      ‘I don’t see why you have to be so nasty!’ Bella snapped. ‘Personally I think I’m taking this very well. I’ve already been threatened and assaulted by you—’

      ‘By me?’ A lean hand thrust the beaded strands aside. Poised in the doorway, Rico surveyed her with incredulous, blazing golden eyes. The cool-as-ice impression was only on the surface, she registered. Beneath it lurked a deep well of near-murderous rage, rigorously suppressed and controlled.

      ‘Yes, by you. Then I get thumped and drugged and kidnapped. I wouldn’t have been there if it hadn’t been for you!’ she suddenly spat.

      ‘And I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you.’

      ‘I b-beg your pardon?’

      Black lashes dropped, screening his piercing gaze. ‘Forget I said that—’

      ‘Oh, no, as you once said to me, don’t keep me in suspense!’ she shrieked.

      ‘Cool down... and grow up,’ Rico drawled in a soft tone that none the less stung like acid. ‘How we got here is unimportant. The only item on our agenda now is survival.’

      Bella studied the floor, tears burning at the back of her eyes. It was shock. She was still in shock. She wanted to ask him what he had meant just now. She wanted to know what had happened after she’d blanked out back in that car park. But she pinned her tremulous lips together instead.

      ‘Let’s eat.’

      Eager to do something, she leapt off the chair and opened the fridge. It was bunged to the gills. Great, she thought for a split-second. Her next thought was entirely different. Dear God, how long were his kidnappers planning to keep them here? And, assuming that they hadn’t added to the hoard when they’d realised that they had not one but two victims requiring sustenance, that was an enormous amount of food... most of which wouldn’t keep that long even in a fridge—salad stuffs, cold meats, cheeses, milk, bread, butter. All perishable.

      ‘There is a stock of tinned goods in the cupboard as well as extra lights and several batteries, plates and cutlery.’

      ‘We could light another lamp—’

      ‘We don’t need it. Anything that we don’t need we save,’ he reminded her.

      Bella burrowed into the cupboard, locating a tin of stew. ‘If you light that stove, I could heat this on that little hotplate.’

      ‘There’s no fuel.’

      ‘We could smash up a chair or something,’ Bella persisted, shivering.

      ‘The ventilation in here is wholly inadequate. Fumes might not escape. We could be suffocated. The stove cannot be lit.’

      The boss man had spoken. Bloody know-it-all! Her teeth ground together. It was freezing cold and it was likely to get considerably colder. He had a lot more clothes on than she had. And where the heck was she to sleep? One bed. Two dining chairs. A metal floor. Guess who would get the floor?

      She found


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