like the count; he wouldn’t have sent him for her.
Her eyes flicked to the man piloting the chopper. He wore an official flying suit, the emblem of the rearing horse clear on it. Only this horse had wings. Chastened, Lexie let out a small huff of air.
She was being over-dramatic. After all, what on earth could there be to be afraid of? This was a Moraze Air Force helicopter, and the pilot was clearly a serviceman. Besides, Felipe was no threat to her.
So why did she now feel an instinctive unease in his presence?
Folding her hands tensely in her lap, she looked down at the countryside, the green of sugar cane fields giving way to the jungle of the escarpment. Perhaps Felipe had been offered a chance to see the famed horse herds?
Indeed, once they’d reached the plateau, she leaned forward and to her delight saw a herd below. They didn’t seem alarmed; after a quick gaze upwards they resumed grazing, as though the helicopter was a regular sight in their sky. For some reason, that made her feel better.
But when the chopper headed for a collection of buildings, she frowned as it banked and dropped towards the ground.
It looked like ruins. Some sort of industrial complex, not very big—a sugar mill on a back country road, perhaps. Indeed, when she looked down she could see that there had once been a house there, but it had been burned to the ground.
Startled, she searched for signs of people, but nothing moved in the shrubby vegetation around the stone buildings. The cold patch beneath her ribs increased in size.
What was going on?
The chopper landed with a slight bump and a whirl of dust. The engines changed pitch, and Gastano indicated that she get out.
Lexie made up her mind. She shook her head.
Felipe’s smile widened. He groped in a bag at his feet to produce a small, snub-nosed black pistol that he aimed straight at her.
The colour drained from her skin. Instead of words the only sound she could make was a feeble croak of disbelief, and then something hit her, and in a violent pang of pain she lost consciousness.
Lexie huddled on the stone floor, reluctantly accepting that this was no nightmare; tied at the wrists and the ankles, she was propped up against a wall in what looked like an abandoned sugar mill somewhere in Moraze. Forcing herself to ignore the thumping of her head and the nausea, she tried to work out what had happened.
Why had Felipe snatched her from the castle?
A swift glance revealed that she seemed to be alone, but instinct stopped her first impulsive attempt to free her hands. Instead she strained to hear—something, anything!
But the only sounds were placid, country noises—a distant bird call, low and consoling, and a soft sigh of wind seeping through the empty windows, sweet with the fragrance of flowers and fresh grass.
A second later she stiffened. A faint whisper—alien, barely there—grated across nerves already stretched taut. Lexie froze, trying to draw strength from the solidity of the stone building, the fact that fire and desolation and the inexorable depredations of the tropics, hadn’t been able to turn it into a complete ruin.
That faint, untraceable sound came again and once more she strained to pinpoint it. Was it a thickening of the atmosphere, a primitive warning that bypassed more advanced senses to home in on the inner core that dealt with raw, basic self-preservation?
Or was she fooling herself?
Slowly, carefully, hardly daring to breathe, she inched her head around. Nothing moved in the gloom, but she knew she wasn’t alone in the shadowy building. There were plenty of places to hide—behind the wreckage of machinery seemed the most likely.
Footsteps from outside swivelled her head around. Rafiq, she thought in anguish, wondering how she knew it was him. If her senses spoke truly, he was walking into a trap. Surely he wasn’t alone? Panic knotted her stomach as she tried to work out what to do.
Scream a warning? But was that what Felipe wanted? He hadn’t gagged her.
The footsteps stopped, and her mind ricocheted from one supposition to another. Possibly Felipe thought he’d hit her hard enough to keep her unconscious for longer.
And knowing Rafiq, he’d come in whatever she did, she thought, stifling her panic. But surely—oh, God, surely—he wouldn’t come here alone and without weapons?
Head pounding, she struggled to hear more.
And caught it—the barest whisper of motion from outside the doorless building.
Lexie bit down on her lip. Rafiq had to know she was here; he wouldn’t have come otherwise. She mustn’t call out.
But oh, it was so hard…
A jerky flow of movement caught the corner of her eye. Not breathing, she whipped her head around and saw the dark figure of Gastano take a step from behind the machinery so that he could see the doorway more clearly.
Her heart juddered to a stop when she realised he was still holding the pistol. So he meant to kill Rafiq.
Everything else forgotten, she opened her mouth, only to have her yell forestalled by Gastano’s voice, bold and arrogantly satisfied.
‘So you came, de Courteveille. I knew you would—stupidly chivalrous to the end.’
For a second Rafiq’s silhouette in the open door shuddered against the light, then blended into the dimness inside.
Lexie closed her eyes, nausea gripping her. That moment of clarity had revealed he carried no weapon.
And then he spoke, his voice cool and dispassionate. ‘Now that M’selle Sinclair has fulfilled her function as bait, I suggest you let her go. She’s not necessary to you any longer.’
With a wide smile, Gastano strolled over to stand above Lexie like a conqueror. ‘I have no intention of letting either of you go until you agree to my terms. Come closer—you are too far away.’
He’s getting off on this, Lexie realised with sick fear.
And he was totally confident that he held all the cards.
Holding her breath, she watched Rafiq move silently towards them. It was too dark for her to see his face, but she could tell from his gait that he was ready for anything that might happen. She opened her mouth to tell him that Gastano was armed, but was forestalled by her captor.
Sharply he said, ‘That’s close enough.’
Rafiq took another step, and Gastano swung the pistol around until it was directed straight at Lexie. He swung it back to fix onto Rafiq, and said between his teeth, ‘You will do everything I say, when I say it, or suffer the consequences. Take one step backwards.’
Rafiq didn’t move, and Gastano prodded her with his foot. ‘If you do not, then Alexa will die,’ he said calmly. ‘Oh, not now, and not quickly—she will die at my disposal. The same way your sister did.’
Hani? Into Lexie’s mind flashed the photograph of the girl, vivid, bright,
