‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘The Beast of Iseo. Surely you’ve heard of it.’ He pointed again out the window to where the massive jagged blade of rock thrust from the sea into the sky some kilometres from the island. ‘Iseo’s Pyramid, the remnants of the caldera of an ancient volcano, is its home. According to the ancient legend, The Beast of Iseo emerges on the blackest of nights, foraging for wayward travellers. It’s a charming legend, full of local colour, don’t you think? Although it does mean you will be forced to spend the night here.’
The full impact of what he was saying hit home like a sucker punch. She was trapped here for the night. With him.
‘I’m not staying here with you. I can’t. My employer will be waiting for me. I’ll lose my job…’
‘Your employer has been made aware of the situation and the fact you will be staying. Besides, you have no choice; there is no way of getting you off the island, even if I could help you.’
‘But it makes no sense. It’s just a legend. And yet you cease all transport to and from the Island because of it?’
‘You’re not superstitious, Sienna? You don’t believe in the Beast?’
‘Oh, I believe in the Beast of Iseo. Right now I’m looking at him.’
He laughed in a way that made it plain he was enjoying his role as captor all too much, and that got so far under her skin that there was no coming out. ‘You bastard. You planned all this, didn’t you? You kept me here, waiting for hours, knowing I’d be trapped and that I’d have no choice but to stay on the island.’
He shrugged, looking far too smug for her liking. ‘I fear you misjudge me. It was hardly my intention at all, merely an unfortunate result of Lady Genevieve’s stage mother’s inability to accept no for an answer. But maybe her recalcitrance was more fortunate than I gave it credit for.’
He gave another bow, this one a mere shadow of the one he’d given before. ‘Now that you have no choice, you might as well accompany me to dinner.’
Sienna shook her head, knowing that way could only result in misery for her, knowing she had to be strong for her pride’s, if not her sanity’s, sake. ‘No, thanks. Not a chance. I’ll find a hotel somewhere. I’ll stay overnight on the island if I have to, but I will not join you for dinner. Not after everything you’ve done today.’
One eyebrow raised, he turned a quizzical gaze at her. ‘All I’ve done is to want to spend more time with you.’
‘Without asking me? By risking my job? No, thanks. I don’t need that kind of intervention. I’ll stay at a hotel and leave tomorrow.’
‘You have money for this hotel? And for the fare you will surely need? Montvelatte might only be a small island country, but we are not so naïve as to extend credit to anyone who so asks.’ His eyes scanned her fitted uniform with the efficiency of an X-ray machine, making her skin prickle under the heavy-duty drill. ‘Your outfit is very practical for flying, but I do not see where you might have secreted away so much as a credit card.’
She burned with humiliation, wishing away her body’s inevitable reaction to his interest, remembering how once before in just one night that interest had succeeded in turning her from an under-experienced woman into a wanton.
‘If you were any kind of gentleman, you’d pick up the expense of my departure, given you’ve disposed of my means of transport behind my back and without my permission.’
‘If I were any kind of gentleman, you would not have found me half as satisfactory in bed…’
His eyes claimed victory; his mouth celebrated it in a smile.
Sienna spun away, her teeth biting into her lower lip as she battled to find a way out of this mess. Of course he wasn’t going to offer her the fare out of here. And, of course, she didn’t have a purse. All she had on her was her ID, a locker key and a few euros in change. But her purse and credit cards were locked away for safe keeping back at the base, the base she should have returned to hours ago.
Damn him!
‘In which case,’ he continued, obviously taking her silence as confirmation, ‘and seeing I have caused you such distress, I feel it is my duty to offer you accommodation here, in the Palace of Montvelatte. You will find the palace very comfortable, despite its great age.’
She glared up at him, knowing she was beaten but not prepared to show it in her face.
‘And I will leave the island tomorrow on the first available transport.’ It wasn’t a question, and right now if he argued the point there was every chance he would end up an even shorter-lived ruler of Montvelatte than his half-brother.
Once again, he made that nod of assent, almost a bow. ‘If that is what you wish.’
She hesitated. Could she trust him? Dared she? But then did she have a choice? ‘Then I will stay. Just for tonight. But I will dine in my room.’
His eyes glinted with something unfathomable. ‘But of course,’ he agreed. ‘Now, let me find someone who can show you to your room. I imagine you’d appreciate the chance to freshen up.’
If she needed reminding of the state she must look, she didn’t want to hear it. But she followed him across the room, already looking forward to having some breathing space to herself, a room where the air wasn’t tainted by the very essence of him on every breath.
It’s just one night, she told herself. Just one night. Tomorrow he would have to let her go. Tomorrow she would be free.
He reached the door and twisted the handle, pulling it open. ‘After you.’
She froze. The door had been unlocked the whole time, the guards she’d seen earlier gone. She’d been just scant feet from the door when she’d decided she’d rather play it cool than be humiliated again. And yet she could have turned the handle and made her escape while he was still a room away. Could she have got away, past the palace guards and the staff? Was there a chance she could have made it to the port in time? She would have managed the fare somehow—offered her watch for collateral—she would have borrowed or begged some form of transport to get herself off the island.
But she hadn’t even attempted to leave the room.
And somehow that was the greatest disappointment of all.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE bath was hot and deep, the foaming bath gel forming a mountain of scented bubbles that comforted her body and soothed her fragile soul. Sienna sighed as she slid down into the slippery water, letting her hair fan out around her like a mantilla and gasping as she came back up again, feeling the weight of water streaming from her hair. Heaven. For a centuries-old palace, the plumbing was definitely state of the art and a major improvement on the cantankerous contraption her landlady labelled a shower and which justified her charging fifty percent over the odds for one shoebox of an apartment in the Thirteenth Arrondissement.
The best part of an hour later, feeling more relaxed than she had all day, she rinsed off the last of the bubbles and wrapped herself in the large plush towels provided. Marble, gold and mirrors, she thought, taking in her surroundings. What was it about that combination that turned a mere bathroom into a destination? Yet beyond the door awaited another, even grander destination, with a massive four-poster bed hung with curtains of lace and fine silks. She couldn’t wait to bury herself deep under the comforter. She hadn’t wanted to be here, but now that she was, there was no way she wasn’t going to enjoy this unfamiliar taste of luxury.
Her stomach rumbled and she gave silent thanks for the healthy sign. Whatever illness or nerves had plagued her earlier today, at least now she could contemplate the notion of food without feeling like she wanted to throw up.
There was a faint knock from outside and Sienna opened the bathroom door a crack to hear a woman’s voice advising in rusty English that her meal was ready. ‘Thank you,’ she called, ‘I’ll be right out.’
She towel-dried her hair until it settled into shaggy ringlets around her face and then rinsed out her underwear in the sink, hanging them over the towel rail. In this warm climate they would dry in no time.
Finally she unwrapped herself from the bath sheet and slipped on the silk robe she’d found hanging behind the door. She’d loved it from the moment she’d seen it hanging there, the jade green silk shot with gold thread, the vibrant shade changing subtly as the fabric moved under the light.
It felt every bit as good as it looked, the material gliding over her shoulders like a silken kiss, teasing her nipples into awareness with every soft shift of the fabric, reminding her all too well of Rafe and his magic touch…
Rafe.
He’d told her he wanted her again.
She sucked in a much needed burst of air. In the panic of not being able to get off the island, in her anger at being manipulated, she had let those words and her body’s reaction to those words slide away. But she hadn’t lost them at all. Instead the words had filtered down to a place deep inside her and taken root, sprouting questions like weeds.
He didn’t really want her. He couldn’t, she reasoned, answering one of those questions herself. Rafe was used to taking what he wanted and she was merely convenient. Available. A man like him would have no hesitation in assuming that after the first night they’d shared, she’d be willing to fall into his bed in a heartbeat.