The Mediterranean Prince’s Captive Virgin. Robyn Donald

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The Mediterranean Prince’s Captive Virgin - Robyn Donald Mills & Boon Modern

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masked an involuntary stab of fear with a shrug. ‘It’s no big deal. I couldn’t sleep. None of the books I brought were worth reading again and I didn’t fancy a hot drink, so I decided to go for a walk. What’s so unusual about that?’

      ‘Did you hear or see anything?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said smartly. ‘I was attacked by a total stranger and dragged into a tower.’

      His humourless smile showed very white teeth. ‘This is important,’ he said, each word a warning.

      ‘Why?’ Her heart picked up speed as another surge of adrenalin activated her flight-or-fight response.

      Fighting was useless; he’d already shown her a measure of his strength, nicely judged so as not to hurt her too badly. A swift shiver scudded down her spine at the memory of that oddly tender kiss.

      Flight, then? Hastily she glanced around. The room he’d brought her to was made of stone, its only obvious exit the door they’d come through. He’d haul her away from that before she could lift the bar. Shadows hid the farthest wall, but her quick glance and the musty air told her there were no windows.

      Flight seemed impossible too.

      The cold pool beneath her ribs expanded. What had she unwittingly walked into? Strangely, instinct told her that this man wasn’t a direct threat to her safety, but one glance at his flint-hard face with its arrogant bone structure reminded her that sometimes instinct couldn’t be trusted.

      ‘Did you see any movement?’ he asked, quite gently, but something in his icy regard warned her not to lie.

      Eyes troubled, she hesitated. ‘How do I know if you’re one of the good guys?’

      Damn, Nico thought, he liked her spirit, even if it was extremely inconvenient. Just before he’d kissed her—an impulse he should have resisted—he’d noticed that her eyes were a dark blue-green with intriguing gold speckles. They were shadowed now, and her full mouth, scratched by his grip, was set in a straight line, her lithe figure stiff and wary.

      He repressed his intensely physical reaction. Nico had learned in a hard school not to trust anyone—not even a blonde goddess with an intriguing accent, tawny-gold hair and a body that promised sensual rapture.

      ‘You don’t,’ he told her without hesitation. ‘Tell me what you saw.’

      For several moments more her eyes challenged him, and then she made a rapid gesture, instantly cut short. ‘Movement,’ she said steadily. ‘A slow sort of glide along the base of the church.’

      Had she decided to trust him? It didn’t matter. ‘Any faces?’

      When she hesitated again he knew she’d seen the man he was tracking. Some poor devil, he thought grimly, would pay for releasing the ray of light that had caught Paveli’s fleshy face.

      But she said nothing. He scrutinised her guarded face, and made up his mind. If she was one of Paveli’s lookouts she had to be neutralised. If she wasn’t, she was in danger. Either way, she had to be removed. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to interrupt your holiday for a few days.’

      Unable to hide a flash of alarm, she stiffened. ‘It’s all right,’ he assured her, his tone casual. ‘You’ll be living in a very comfortable house with pleasant people; you just won’t be able to leave it.’

      ‘In other words I’ll be a prisoner,’ she said evenly.

      He had to admire her refusal to be daunted and her ability to face facts. ‘I’d rather you thought of yourself as a guest,’ he said with smooth cynicism, and waited for her response.

      ‘Guests can leave whenever they want to,’ she retorted. ‘What is this all about?’

      ‘If I told you I’d have to kill you.’

      How many times had she heard that tossed at someone in jest? Leola looked at the dark, formidable face of the man who’d hauled her here, and felt the hair on the back of her neck lift. She suspected he meant it.

      ‘You will be perfectly safe,’ he said.

      ‘Somehow,’ she returned cuttingly, ‘I don’t find that very reassuring.’

      ‘If it’s any consolation, I won’t be there.’

      She shrugged, although a swift pang of apprehension tightened her nerves. ‘It would certainly be more to my liking, but I’m not going anywhere with you.’

      ‘If I have to I’ll tie you hand and foot, gag you and blindfold you.’ Not a threat, not a warning, just a simple statement of fact not softened by his final words. ‘I don’t want to do that.’

      Apprehension intensifying into something more than fear, Leola met implacable eyes, cold as polar seas. ‘What’s the alternative?’

      ‘You give me your word not to scream or make a fuss.’

      ‘You’d accept my word?’

      His smile was humourless. ‘I’ll still have to gag and blindfold you, but we could dispense with the hog-tying.’

      Anger helped drown out the terror. From between her teeth she ground out, ‘I refuse to help you kidnap me. What sort of fool do you think I am?’

      ‘One that’s entirely too mouthy,’ he said, and kissed her—not the gentle kiss of the previous time but a full-on plundering of her mouth as though he had every right to do it, as though they were passionate lovers separated for years and at last together again.

      Fire leapt through her, replacing cold panic with an emotion just as primal, just as overriding—a heady, violent desire that sang like some siren’s potent, dangerous song.

      With every bit of will she possessed Leola resisted the astonishing, rising tide of passion, until she felt a sharp prick in her neck.

      Stomach contracting in wild terror, she forced open her eyes to stare at him.

      ‘You’re going to be all right,’ he said, his voice suddenly harsh. ‘Don’t be afraid.’

      The meaningless words echoed in her mind as darkness rolled over her.

      Nico held her until she went limp, then looked at the man who’d come in through the secret passage. The newcomer was lowering a hypodermic.

      In the local dialect Nico said, ‘Does it always work so fast?’

      ‘She must be very susceptible.’

      ‘Thank you, my friend,’ Nico said grimly. ‘How the hell did you happen to have this drug on your person?’

      ‘I always carry it. I am, after all, a doctor. It’s just as quick as hitting someone over the head, and less noisy.’ His companion gave a laconic grin. ‘That one would have fought all the way. You must be losing your touch.’

      ‘She was afraid,’ Nico said absently, looking down at her white face. Even deeply unconscious, she was beautiful. Something hot and unguarded stirred inside him; it had been too long since he’d had a lover.

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