'That implies an innocence which we both know you do not possess. Things will be much easier for you if you do not fight against them. I have no wish to hurt or humiliate you…'
Her bitter laugh silenced him.
'Look...' He reached for her, grasping her arms, and she flinched in his grasp.
'What are you trying to do?' she demanded angrily. 'Make Olivia jealous? Why don't you call her up here so that she can see . ..'
'You are determined to annoy me, aren't you? Or is this what you really want?'
Swift as a panther, his grasp tightened, drawing her against the hard male outline of his body, his hands moving from her shoulders to her back, moulding her against him, one hand circling the back of her neck, forcing it to bend, the other securing her against him.
'No!'
Her moaned protest was smothered beneath the fierce pressure of his mouth, and only when it possessed hers did Saffron realise how much she had infuriated him. He was obviously a man who was not used to being criticised by a woman, she thought hazily, trying to fight against the melting lethargy spreading through her body. His first touch had ignited fires she was finding it hard to control, every pulse in her body responding wildly to the heated pressure of his mouth. She could taste salt blood in her mouth from the bruising pressure of his lips, and instantly the pressure of his kiss relaxed, and his tongue touched her skin tasting her blood. A wave of pleasure, so fierce that it frightened her, left her weak and shaken, unable to understand what was happening to her. She hated him—loathed him!
'What are you trying to do?' she husked when at last he had released her.
His grim, 'I could ask you the same question,' silenced her for several seconds. On legs which threatened to buckle beneath her she walked to the window and stared out of it. Why did she experience this overwhelming sexual magnetism whenever Nico came within close range. She hated and detested the man, but her body seemed to crave him.
'If you feel like experimenting again, make sure you don't choose Guido,' Nico warned her, breaking the silence. 'You might get a response you didn't bargain for, unless Olivia's right and the thought of being mauled about excites you? Is that it?' he asked pointedly, his eyes on the shallow rise and fall of her breasts. 'Is that what you were hoping for? You've been watching too many movies,' he told her harshly. 'Desirable you might be, but not desirable enough for me to want to take you here and now.' His mouth twisted a little. 'When I make love I prefer comfort, clean sheets and a sweet-smelling woman in my arms.'
The gibe drove the colour from Saffron's face. 'Is that why you do things like this?' she demanded fiercely. 'So that you can afford to live in style? If that's the case why don't we come to some mutually beneficial arrangement?' An idea had just occurred to her, and before she lost her courage she was going to try and put it to the test. Swallowing the fear building up inside her, she leaned forward slightly, lips parted, fingers curling into the open collar of Nick's shirt.
'A million pounds could go a long way if you had it all to yourself.'
'What are you suggesting?' He didn't move, his eyes giving nothing away. He was like granite, Saffron thought wildly, unyielding, remorselessly crushing anything that got in his way.
'A double-cross?'
She shrugged, trying to appear calm and in control. 'Why not? Or are you going to tell me there's honour among thieves?' She said it sweetly enough, but the arrow found its mark. Her fingers were ruthlessly removed from his shirt, his expression distant as he looked down at her.
'And if I agreed? If I wanted more than a million pounds, if I wanted you, for instance?'
A hard lump seemed to have settled in her chest, causing a tight unremitting pain.
'I ... might be able to come to some arrangement,' she managed breathlessly.
The look in his eyes frightened her and she reached for him automatically, only to find he had put the width of the room between them, his mouth curling disdainfully as he studied her.
'My God, you're all the same, aren't you?' he breathed at last, and Saffron could see his chest rising and falling beneath the thin white shirt as though he had been running. Awareness of the deep undercurrent of anger possessing him ran through her on a shock wave, although she didn't know what she had done to cause it.
'Who the hell do you think you're deceiving?' he said scornfully. 'Making with the big sacrifice. Some sacrifice! You want me,' he told her flatly, 'and I wouldn't touch you now if you were the last woman left on earth. Don
't you think I know what turns you on? Don't you think I know all about the type of thrill women like you get from the thought of being taken by force? If that's what you want Guido is your man, not me—I like my sex straight,' he told her brutally.
He was gone before she could retaliate, leaving her feeling bruised and humiliated by his rejection, and unable to understand what had happened. One moment she had actually thought that she might be able to use the bait of all the ransom moneys as a means of dividing her captors; and the next he had turned the tables on her implying that she had been trying to persuade him to make love to her when in reality she had been nerving herself...
For what? an inner voice asked. She didn't want him, Saffron defended bitterly. She hated him, loathed him!
Saffron had been a prisoner for four days. The hope she had nursed so hard at first had waned leaving in its place dull apathy. The days formed themselves into a set routine. In the morning her room was unlocked by Olivia, who brought up water for her to wash in and then escorted her to the primitive little hut set discreetly away from the farmhouse. Initially fastidious embarrassment had overwhelmed Saffron each time she was forced to endure this indignity, but her imprisonment and the very basic diet she was getting had worn away her resistance.
Every night before going to sleep she washed out the clothes she had worn during the day, but although they dried well enough overnight they were now beginning to look shabby. She felt ill-kempt and scruffy, but her personal appearance had taken a back seat to her fears for her safety.
In the evening they all ate a meal together in the room downstairs, often prepared by Saffron herself under the watchful eyes of her guards. Today Nico had been missing and she had been acutely aware of his absence, even though she had not spoken a single word to him since the day he had searched her. At first her determined avoidance of him had made Olivia laugh, but now Saffron often found the other girl watching her as though she found it hard to understand how she could be so indifferent to him.
But she wasn't indifferent. With nothing to do but brood on her situation Saffron found her hatred of him growing, feeding off her and draining her of the ability to think of anything else.
He had arrived while she had been checking the vines with Guido; a back-breaking task, and one from which she would gladly have stretched her aching back if she hadn't been sure that Nico would have taken the gesture as a sign of defeat. Somehow the two of them had become involved in a silent tussle of wills; Saffron knew her silence angered Nico, she had seen it in his eyes, and the knowledge had brought her perverse pleasure. He wanted to break her will, she was convinced of it; he wanted to reduce her to the kind of fear he no doubt expected from his victims. Well, she wasn't going to join their ranks!