He said that he didn’t care, but the fact he had mentioned it made her think that perhaps he did.
And so she said nothing. She simply sat with her hands folded, staring straight ahead into the darkness as she was taken further and further away from any kind of certainty and deeper into this madness of Diego’s making.
CHAPTER THREE
DIEGO WATCHED HIS captive closely as they walked from the helicopter toward his home. If she was expecting that there would be anyone here who might become sympathetic to her plight and offer her assistance, she would be sadly mistaken. He had taken pains to clear his house of all the usual staff, leaving it stocked with everything they would need to get through the next period of time without drawing attention to them.
He paused at the beginning of the walkway that led up to the old manor that looked near consumed by ivy where it was pressed deep into a rocky hillside.
He extended his gloved hand, and she took it, and he could feel her delicate fingers, could feel the heat of her body through the black leather.
He felt a bit like Hades, leading Persephone down into the underworld.
Some men might be consumed with guilt at that easy comparison. The idea that they might be the devil himself.
Diego suffered from no such guilt.
Diego did not suffer from a conscience at all.
Liliana was silent, and she looked like a very small ghost shrouded in her white nightgown, her pale hair blowing in the breeze.
“Where are we?”
“On a private island,” he said. “Near enough to Spain, but far enough as well. This is mine. And no, my brother does not know.”
“It’s... It looks rather English.”
“The English like Spain,” he said. “At least, they like to get drunk in Spain.”
“Is that what you like about Spain?”
“I am Spanish, querida.”
“Of course,” she said, her cheeks coloring slightly.
How funny that she could be embarrassed over making a faux pas with him. Her kidnapper. How charming that she would care at all.
“I take that as a compliment on the proficiency of my English,” he said. His lips curved into a smile. “But not as much of a compliment on my character.”
“Were you looking for compliments on your character, Diego? Because if so, you might have stopped short of the kidnapping.”
He chuckled. “I was not. It is delightfully freeing when you don’t care about your own morality. If you just sink into turpitude, I find that it has a very warm embrace. And there are a host of fabulous side effects. A lack of caring what anyone thinks. Least of all your own conscience.”
“Some of us don’t live exclusively for ourselves,” she said softly.
“Your father?” He wondered if the poor creature imagined her father to be a good man. Why wouldn’t she? She was... She was sweet. And in this world that was a rare and precious thing. A thing he was going to destroy. He should care about that. He found he didn’t. “What a fantastic paragon for you to live for.”
He began to walk more quickly, drawing her into the entryway of the house, and pressing his thumb against the door to unlock it. “My thumbprint only, tesoro,” he said.
“Does that include getting out as well?”
He laughed. “You know it does. Again, I would not conduct a kidnapping without being thorough.”
“I suppose I should appreciate that as a commentary on my fortitude and ingenuity.”
“I feel that you should be flattered by this entire caper.”
“Should I?”
“Indeed. I’ve gone to quite a lot of trouble to procure you.”
“More due to the relationship with your brother than anything to do with you.”
“Yes. But if I did not find you enticing in your own right then I would simply have held on to you until the date on my grandfather’s great edict expired.”
“Lucky me.”
“Many women would say that you were lucky. Being fought over by the Navarro brothers as you are.”
“And yet, I feel more like a wretched hen between the jaws of two posturing dogs.”
“Or, a precious gem being traded amongst thieves. Pick your metaphor, tesoro. I would pick the more flattering of the two.”
“I don’t have the motivation. Flattered or not, I remain kidnapped.”
“Perhaps you will in time.” He brought her inside, closing the door behind them. The lock clicked with a delicious, satisfying finality.
“What are you going to do with me?” For the first time, she looked afraid. No, more than afraid—terrified. And two things dawned on him in that moment. That she had not looked truly frightened this entire time, which was an oddity. She seemed to have accepted her kidnapping with a remarkable aplomb. She had not fought him. In fact, she had clung to him, long after her safety had depended on it.
She had opened the window for him.
Something about that kicked masculine triumph through his veins. She did not hate him. That much was clear.
Or perhaps, she did not care for his brother. It didn’t matter to him which it was. Not in the least. The fact that it was either was good enough.
The second was that she looked out of her mind with fear at the moment, and he did not care for that. Another revelation. He could not recall much caring about the feelings of another. Not ever.
Or at least, not in quite some time.
“I already told you,” he said. “I intend to marry you.”
“Are we alone here?” She backed up against the wall, her pulse thundering at the base of her throat.
Diego frowned and walked toward her, marveling as she shrank away from him, turning herself near inside out to avoid him. He reached out, pressed his thumb against that delicate hollow there. It felt like a frightened bird against his touch, fluttering, trying to escape.
“What do you think I will do to you?”
“You have already kidnapped me. I fear that any number of indignities can’t be too far away.”
He dropped his hand quickly. “I have never once forced myself on a woman. I would hardly start with you.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Because you want me.”
“I want you? You kidnapped me. Do you honestly think that I’m panting after you now that you’ve stolen me out of my bedroom window?”
He lifted a brow and shrugged one shoulder. “A bedroom window you opened for me. That makes your protests slightly weak.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“Did you not?”
Her shoulders went rigid. “I did not.”
“It is moot. I saw the way you looked at me at your father’s house. You wanted me then. You want me now. I would take absolutely no pleasure in forcing you. I would much rather you had to lower yourself to beg for what you want. Taking it from you would make it far too easy on you.”
Her lip curled and she raised her hand, pulling it back as if she meant to strike him. He didn’t stop her. He merely stood, ready for her strike. And she of course didn’t land the blow.
It did not surprise him. Not in the least.
“A word of advice, tesoro,” he said. “If you’re going to make threats you had best be prepared to follow through. I am not a man who makes idle threats, and therefore, you do not want to be the kind of woman who makes them. Not in my presence. If you’re going to hit me, you best do it hard. If you’re going to tempt my retribution, then it had better be worth it.”
She said nothing. She simply stood there, shaking like an indignant leaf, her rage and fear barely suppressed. “Would you like to go to your room?”
“I’ll have my own room?”
He sighed heavily, feigning exasperation. “Of course you will have your own room. I already made it clear that I do
not intend to force myself on you.”
“You just intend to force marriage on me.”
“Naturally.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world.
“You make no sense.”
“I’m a villain. I don’t have to make sense.”
He turned away from her and they began to walk up the long staircase and down a winding corridor, leading her to the chamber he had selected expressly for her.
Truly, the entire house had been chosen for her. The entire island.
There was something classic about it. Classic, and yet wild. He had appreciated it from the moment he’d set eyes on it last week. From the moment he had decided on his course of action.
The chamber that he had selected for her, had had furnished and decorated and filled with beautiful clothes, had been chosen specifically with her in mind. He had imagined how she might react to it. Had imagined the delight she might take in the way the soft mattress molded itself around her body, in the way the soft fabrics felt against her skin.
Instead, when she saw the room, her expression was blank.
“Is it not to your liking?”
“As jail cells go, I imagine it’s quite a beautiful one.”
“There is a library,” he bit out. “Just through that door.”