And allow him to use that shrewd steel trap of a mind to counter her strategy? Not likely. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough if you insist on pursuing this absurd caper. And it’s not just me you’ll have to contend with, you know. Did you stop to think about how my mother would take my disappearance at all? Do you think she’s going to just sit by and allow you to kidnap her daughter?’
Without the slightest hint of unease, he shrugged. ‘I’m confident I can handle your mother. Next.’
Unfortunately, Violet believed him. She suspected he could have her mother eating out of his hand with minimum effort.
Her heart clenched with that shame she’d never managed to shrug off when it came to her mother’s blatantly grasping antics. Heck, she was fairly certain Zak would receive a resounding endorsement of this kidnapping from her mother if it meant she could brag about it ad nauseam at future dinner parties.
As for the discovery that Violet was pregnant, it was why she’d guarded her new state with feverish zeal. Why she intended to keep it under wraps for as long as possible. Her mother’s discovery that she carried the next Montegovan royal would see her thrust into the sort of limelight her mother adored but Violet desperately abhorred.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t keep this a secret for ever. Neither could she avoid her mother for ever.
And it certainly didn’t mean she wanted to be kept here against her will, regardless of how stunning this prison was. She pursed her lips. ‘How about your staff? You employ the type of people who condone kidnapping, do you?’ she taunted.
‘Their loyalty is absolute and faultless or they wouldn’t be here,’ he stated, his voice deep, firm and completely unfazed by her cold accusations.
About to challenge him some more, she froze for a moment, unsure why until the distant rumble of aircraft engines had her surging to her feet. She rushed to the French doors in time to see the jet rising gracefully into the sky, its wings glinting in the dappling sunlight.
‘No!’ She whirled towards him, fury and an emotion she refused to name flaming through her veins at the realisation that she was alone, secluded and stranded, on an island with Zak Montegova.
‘Yes,’ he countered smoothly. ‘Calm down, Violet.’
‘No, I won’t calm down. You want another reason? How about the simple fact that I don’t want this? That what you’re doing is plain wrong?’
He simply shrugged, unfazed by her outburst. ‘As you can see, it’s going to take more than the seductive promise of a temper tantrum to change my mind about this.’ His voice was low, deep, sexy in an authoritative way that highlighted his innate masculinity.
A shiver danced through her.
Seductive? Did Zak actually want her to throw a tantrum? Recalling that their last two arguments had ended up with varying degrees of intimacy, the second achieving the ultimate, she fought a blush and decided then and there to do the exact opposite.
She was paying the ultimate price for her folly in Tanzania. There was no need to throw more fuel on a fire that had almost consumed her once already.
And how could she have forgotten that mere hours after the fact he’d done a disappearing act on her? That he wouldn’t be taking this course of action if he didn’t have a selfish reason in mind.
By flailing and protesting at every turn, was she playing right into his hands? Several scenarios tumbled through her mind, each one as disturbing as the last. She slowly sucked in a calm breath, ignoring her thundering heart.
After one last longing look at the aircraft, which was now a tiny speck in the sky, she turned back to him. ‘Very well. You want to play this game? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
The raw glint that lit his eyes for a few stomach-hollowing seconds sent a wave of panic through her. It reeked of relished anticipation. Of the kind of marauding conquests his ancestors were renowned for and Montegovans were intensely proud of. He didn’t exactly say the words, bring it on, but they flamed in his eyes for those seconds before Zak rose, all litheness, power and blood-quickening animalistic grace, to stride assuredly to where she stood. And up close, she saw something else.
Sexual attraction.
He may have avoided her for weeks after Tanzania, may have pretended she didn’t exist at his brother’s wedding. But Zak still desired her.
And, damn her, her body’s wild and fierce surging to life announced that the feeling was intensely mutual. But feeling was one thing. Acting on those feelings quite another. She intended to deny every ounce of this fevered attraction if it was the last thing she did. She’d already spent far too many nights dwelling on why she couldn’t get this man out of her damned head.
‘Now that we’ve established you’re staying for the foreseeable future, would you like to familiarise yourself with the property?’ he asked, all arrogant charm and effortless masculinity.
About to snap that she wasn’t in the mood to tour her prison, she swallowed the heated words.
Self-containment.
Aloofness.
Grace.
She would epitomise the very word if it killed her. ‘Maybe later. I’m rather tired. Just point me in the direction of where I’m to sleep and I’ll get out of your hair.’
Wary suspicion narrowed his eyes. She would’ve laughed if she wasn’t terrified he would see through her intentions, somehow find a way to dismantle them. Hadn’t he done that very thing by that waterfall in Tanzania?