'Here.' He stopped beside an elegant sports car that was all sleek lines and gleaming red metal and opened the passenger door for her, watching her with a cool, all-encompassing gaze as she slid carefully inside the beautiful vehicle without saying a word.
He joined her immediately and at once her senses registered the elusive smell of the aftershave he had specially made for him, its perfume evoking memories she could well have done without in the circumstances, and doing nothing to alleviate her panic.
'How long are you staying in Tangier?' he asked quietly, his voice seeming to be without real interest.
'Just a few days more.' It wasn't quite true, but she had no intention of revealing that she had arranged to combine the business trip with a holiday, and that she was staying on when the rest of the troupe left. She planned to join a tour which took in the five major cities of Morocco on the day Keith and the others flew home. 'It's… it's quite a coincidence meeting you like this, after all this time… ' She came to a stumbling halt as her voice failed her.
'Isn't it?' he agreed flatly, before pulling off in a great growl of powerfully honed engine.
It was only a few minutes later that Marianne realised they weren't travelling on the road which led up into the hills to their hotel. She would have noticed it even sooner but for the fact her senses were battling with the close proximity of the big masculine body at the side of her.
She hadn't dared look at him, but now, as they travelled along a broad avenue lined with modern stores and houses, her eyes flashed to his grim profile. 'This isn't the way back to the hotel,' she challenged hotly. It isn't, is it?'
'No?' His voice was too innocent to be taken seriously.
'You know it isn't. Where… where are we going?' she asked nervously, real fear in her voice as she realised her vulnerability.
'Relax, Annie.' The stone-grey eyes flashed over her face for one piercing moment as he caught the panic she couldn't hide. 'I'm not into abduction, or rape, or any one of a number of variations on those themes. I see the misery caused by those sorts of abuses of strength too often in my work to indulge personally,' he said drily. 'You're quite safe.'
Safe? With Hudson de Sance? Never, she thought wildly.
'You said we were going back to the hotel,' she accused, once she could trust her voice not to shake. He would just love to think she was quivering in her shoes! 'Didn't you?'
'And so we are.' He paused for a moment, and then added, 'Eventually,' his voice full of dark mockery.
'Eventually?' She glared at him, her eyes flashing.
'It means finally, in the end, ultimately,' he said helpfully.
I know what the word means.
Her voice was too shrill, and she was furiously angry with herself for not matching his cool control, especially when the grey eyes moved over her face in another lightning glance and the black eyebrows lifted in indulgent disapproval. 'Don't screech, Annie; it's most unbecoming,' he drawled easily.
She mentally counted to ten—slowly—and then said, in as even a tone as she could manage, 'I just want to know where we are going. I think that is reasonable enough—to any normal person.'
'Reasonable doesn't enter into it.' Now his voice was clipped, and for the first time she saw his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. His control wasn't as real as he'd like her to believe, she thought nervously as fear engulfed her again. 'You, of all people, should know that'
'Hudson—'
'You walked out on me two years ago without so much as a by-your-leave,' he bit out tightly. 'You call that reasonable?'
'I left a letter to explain why,' she protested quickly.
'The original "dear John". Yes, I read it,' he said icily. 'And yet the evening before that you had agreed to become my wife.'
'I explained—' She stopped abruptly as they turned a corner and almost collided with an aged donkey bearing bales of merchandise on its back, his owner having stopped to carry on a conversation with a vendor selling pomegranates from an old pushcart at the side of the road. It was charming and picturesque, but quite how the accident claim form would have read was another matter.
Hudson swore angrily under his breath, sounded his horn and continued down the dusty road leading away from the modern European section of the city they had been in earlier.
'I explained about that,' Marianne said weakly after a moment or two. 'Our lifestyles were too different—I had only recently finished university and I'd never even been
to the States. Everything had happened too quickly. We… we didn't really know each other.'
'Rubbish,' he said with ruthless honesty. 'That's rubbish and you know it If it had just been that, you wouldn't have dropped off the face of the earth. I came looking for you, but of course you know that. Your aunt and uncle were very shocked by it all, but your stepfather not so much. It was he who told me the truth.'
'The truth?' She was losing it, she thought frantically as her mind raced and spun. He had seen Michael? That had been the one thing she'd been trying to prevent by leaving France in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. What had Michael told him? She wouldn't put anything past her stepfather.
'What was his name, Annie, this guy from university?' Hudson asked coldly. 'And why the hell didn't you tell me about him yourself instead of getting your stepfather to do your dirty work and tell me you were engaged? You didn't go back to Scotland, did you? The pair of you simply vanished off the face of the earth.'