Page 13 of The Captive
“Put on some warmer clothing.”He moved stiffly to the door.“You must be hungry after that long flight.I’ll bring you some food.”
“Wait.”
His hand froze on the door handle.Slowly, he turned around.Her face was pale, her eyes weary with defeat.
“I don’t care what your motives are,” she said in a miserable voice.“But if you want money, I’ll give you money.I promise, whatever—what did you call him?Le Clair?—well, whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.Just help me get out of here and I’ll make sure you have all the money you want.”
He stifled a sigh.Double the pay?The offer might have been tempting, if not for the fact that Le Clair would hunt him down and murder him if he ever defected.
He said as much to Lana, eyeing her unhappily.“Le Clair is a very dangerous man.A man you don’t cross.As much as I want to help you, I—”
“You don’t want to help me,” she cut in angrily.“If you did, you wouldn’t have kidnapped me.You wouldn’t have—” She stopped abruptly, a suspicious expression filling her face.“Did you know who I was, that night in the Louvre?Were you planning this, even then?”
Deacon wanted to lie.It bothered him that his first instinct was to protect this woman, even from the ugly truth.But although he was many things, a liar he wasn’t.
“I knew,” he replied gruffly.
She blinked, and the tears sticking to her lashes broke free and slid down her smooth cheeks.“You knew,” she echoed.
“Yes.”He found himself giving a hurried explanation.“But I didn’t plan for us to…be intimate.I was only supposed to watch you.”His voice cracked, and he cleared histhroat, annoyed with the sign of weakness.“But then you spoke to me, and…well, it just happened.”
Her tears fell harder.“I can’t believe this.I can’t…” She looked at him with tearstained cheeks, suddenly appearing much younger than her twenty-four years.“Don’t let them hurt me,” she finally whispered, her arms encircling her own waist and tightening over her stomach.“Just promise me that.”
He tore his gaze from her and turned the doorknob.“I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, Lana.I promise.”Then he slid out the door and, ignoring the ache in his chest, locked it behind him.
CHAPTER 4
Lana’s first night as an official hostage went by without incident.After Deacon left her in the back bedroom, she’d changed into jeans and a fleece hooded sweatshirt, as well as the thick wool socks her kidnappers had purchased for her.Then she’d sat on the narrow bed and catalogued every item in her suitcase.Clothes, toiletries, sewing kit, nail kit.The two kits had been confiscated by Cold Eyes, whose name was apparently Charlie.With two brothers in the military, she was familiar with the military alphabet, which Le Clair had evidently decided to employ for code names.For some reason, though, Le Clair wasn’t hiding his real name from her.Almost as if he believed he were invincible, that even if she knew his true identity, it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference.
That worried her, though not as much as the fact that none of the kidnappers bothered to disguise their faces from her.Did that mean they planned to kill her?Or, likeLe Clair, were these men confident that knowing what they looked like wouldn’t make a difference once their assignment ended?
The last item on her growing Why-I-Should-Worry list was the pregnancy.She hadn’t revealed her condition to her captors, didn’t even know if she should, and though she now had the opportunity to tell Deacon, she wasn’t sure she wanted the man to have any part in this baby’s life.He’d kidnapped her, for God’s sake.What kind of father figure was that for her child?
She was also concerned about how she would take care of herself.She hadn’t been to a doctor yet, but she knew vitamins and a healthy diet were important to the growth of a healthy fetus.Hopefully she wouldn’t be here for much longer, but in the meantime, she could keep taking her multivitamins, which had calcium and vitamin C and a bunch of other important nutrients.No folic acid, but again, she probably wasn’t going to be here long.
As promised, Deacon had brought in some food, a surprisingly healthy dish of rice, chicken breast and broccoli.Afterward, he’d left her alone, and now she was lying down and wishing she were anywhere but here.A single bulb dangling from the ceiling illuminated the small room, and it was dark outside the window over the desk.Getting colder, too.Lana shivered on the bed, though she had a feeling the chill running through her had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with her predicament.
Bitterness lodged in her throat as she remembered Deacon’s confession.He’dknownwho she was the night at the Louvre.He’d already been part of this sick plot to kidnap her, and yet he’d still gone ahead and made love to her.
“No,” she said aloud, a vicious taste entering her mouth.
It wasn’t making love.It was sex.And deception.
How was she ever going to explain this to her child when he or she got older?
The sound of the lock creaking open caught her attention.She sat up just as Deacon walked into the room.He wore dark pants and a black turtleneck underneath an unbuttoned navy-blue shirt, and for a moment she almost forgot why they were both here.He was so damn gorgeous.It wasn’t fair for him to look so good and yet be doing this to her.
“I thought you might be cold,” he said gruffly.
He held out his hands, and she noticed the flannel afghan.She forced herself not to feel pleasure from the thoughtful gesture.
“Thank you,” she said in a stiff voice.
Deacon walked to the bed and handed her the blanket, which she draped over her lower body.Immediately, she felt warmer.
“Lana…” he started, then stopped.
She met his hazel eyes.“Did you contact my father?”
