Page 5 of Captive in His Castle
Amusement sparked in his dark eyes. “How melodramatic. You will be free to report me to the police. Whether they believe you without corroboration is another matter; now, for the last time, get in the helicopter.”
But Callie’s feet refused to obey, not in the direction he wanted. Every cell in her body was still telling her to run, and then, without any warning from her feet to her brain, she spun around and set off… but had barely taken four paces before a strong arm hooked around her waist. Before she knew it, she was being lifted into the air, twisted around, slung over a broad, muscular shoulder, and carried onto the helicopter, all her punching, kicking and screaming having no effect whatsoever.
Inside, she was unceremoniously dumped, still kicking out, on a leather seat.
Crouching on his haunches before her, utterly unfazed,Dante said, “Can you strap yourself in or do I have to do it for you?”
She kicked him again, and this time had the satisfaction of feeling the toe of her ankle boot connect with his shin.
He didn’t even wince, instead shaking his head with a disappointed smile. “I will not ask the question again.”
Spitting all the fire she could muster at him with her eyes, Callie strapped herself in.
His hateful smile widened. “Good. Now you are learning.”
Chapter Two
Dante settled himself into the seat opposite his uncooperative captive and thought he was a lucky man that looks alone didn’t have the power to kill.
“Now I know what you mean about your death stare,” he observed as the helicopter lifted into the air. “Your students must be terrified of you.”
She simply glared at him.
He laughed. He hadn’t considered that this whole escapade would be fun. Possibly not for Callie, he acknowledged, but she only had herself to blame for that. He held out a hand. “Your handbag.”
The bag in question was strapped over her shoulder. In response, she hugged it tight to her belly.
“I can always take it from you if you would prefer?”
“What do you want it for?”
“To remove any device that can be used to communicate. Don’t worry, all confiscated devices will be returned on Sunday.”
Death stare blazing, she pulled the strap over her head, rolled it around the bag itself, and, without any warning,threw it at him. Only Dante’s superb reflexes stopped it hitting him square in the face. “Nice shot,” he said, impressed.
She kicked out again, but their seats were far enough apart that she couldn’t reach his leg to maim him.
He tutted and unzipped her bag. “I do hope you’re not intending to spend the next five days communicating through violence…” He darted his stare to her furious face and grinned. “If so, I might have to consider tying you up for my staff’s safety.”
“That would mean you have to hurt me,” she spat.
“I don’t know about that,” he drawled with a wink as he removed her phone from the bag and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Lots of people get a kick out of being tied up.”
It took her a moment to get his meaning, and then her lips curled in disgust, her lightly golden cheeks staining with colour. “You’re vile.”
He’d been called worse. “Probably.” He plucked her passport out. “I think it best I keep hold of this too. Again, you will get it back on Sunday.” His gaze zoomed to her watch. It was of a similar kind to his own, capable of doing pretty much everything her phone could do.
She followed the gaze, gave a huff of a sigh, unstrapped it and threw it at him with the same expertise that she’d thrown her bag. “You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you?”
He was unabashed. “Si.I assume you are too, seeing as you travelled all this way with nothing but destruction on your mind.”
Outrage flashed from the pale blue eyes. Or were they grey? He’d thought they were blue, but in this light, it was impossible to tell. They were larger than he’d thought too, almost outsized compared to the rest of her features and striking enough that he’d recognisedthem from her profile picture, which was just as well as she’d dyed her hair brown since she’d last updated it.
“The only thing I had on my mind was seeing Niccolo Martinelli.”
He gave another tut and stretched his arm out to return the handbag to her. “You didn’t come here to see him – you came to sabotage his wedding.” When she didn’t take the bag, he dropped it on the floor and added, “You came here to share intimate pictures of Niccolo and your sister with all the press gathering in Accardiano.”
“That is alie,” she said hotly.
