Maren sucked in her breath, her eyes widening in shock. How the hell would Armand know anything about KGI? Much less her connection to them. Panic surged in her chest, tightening until she could barely breathe. What the hell was going on? And what did Mendoza want to use her for?
She’d prayed steadily over the last three days that Steele would return quickly. Surely if he found her gone, her clinic unopened, he wouldn’t just assume she’d gone off on a whim. He’d look for her. She had to believe that. And she hoped to hell he hurried, because she had no idea what Mendoza had in mind for her, but it couldn’t be good.
“They are no match for me,” Mendoza said arrogantly.
“That’s what you think,” Maren muttered under her breath.
“Don’t underestimate her connections,” Armand said in a soft voice. “Underestimation will get a man killed every time.”
“You act as though you think this organization of hers is more powerful than I am. Besides, we’re leaving soon. Then they won’t be of any worry to me at all.”
“A wise man always watches his six,” Armand replied.
Maren frowned and then straightened in her seat when she heard them walking in her direction. She stared into the distance and raised her glass of water to her lips, pretending she hadn’t heard them at all.
Armand sounded military to her. It was the way he spoke, the jargon he used. He was American, though. A traitor? Defector? Or just a lackey for hire, willing to farm out his services to whoever had the money to pay him?
“Maren, you look beautiful,” Mendoza said smoothly when he and Armand rounded the corner of the terrace. “I was correct that that color would be stunning on you. It accentuates your eyes quite nicely.”
She gritted her teeth and forced back the caustic reply that hovered on her lips.
Mendoza waved his hand at Armand. “You may leave us now. Be back in an hour’s time to take Maren back to her room.”
Armand glanced her way and stared a long moment before nodding and retreating.
Mendoza sat down across from her and then held up his hand to snap his fingers. In an instant, a servant appeared bearing a tray with their dinner plates.
A plate of grilled fish was set in front of her, and as she stared down at it, her stomach rebelled at the mere idea of putting it in her mouth. She sucked in steadying breaths through her nose, willing the nausea to go away.
Pregnancy had made her hypersensitive to smells, and the slightly fishy odor emanating from the plate sent her right over the edge.
“You don’t look well,” Mendoza said.
She glanced up to see him watching her, lazy amusement in his eyes.
“I can’t eat this,” she said, pushing it away.
“Any particular reason?”
“I can think of several. Being held against my will isn’t exactly great for inspiring an appetite,” she snapped.
“And it couldn’t be because you’re carrying a child and the thought of food makes you ill?” he asked mildly.
She couldn’t control her reaction. Her fear had to have been broadcast for the entire world to see. She pushed back from the table in a protective measure, putting as much distance between her and him as possible. How the hell could he know she was pregnant? Then, just as quickly, she dismissed her incredulity. Armand was her constant shadow and knew of her visits to the bathroom in the mornings and her sickness. He’d likely taken a stab in the dark, but she had betrayed herself with her reaction and now he knew his shot had been true.
“There’s no reason to panic. I have no intention of harming you or your child.”
“You’ll pardon me if I don’t believe that,” she said.
“I’ve been watching you for a while now. I’m attracted to you, Maren,” he said unemotionally. They could have been discussing the most mundane topic in the world for as much enthusiasm as was reflected in those words. “At first I sought you out because you were a convenient solution to a problem I needed solved. But I find I rather like the idea of you being where I am.”
“And what problem do you need solved?” she asked, afraid of what the answer would be.
“I’m having plastic surgery soon. Again.”
Her eyebrows went up in disbelief. Plastic surgery? He had to be freaking kidding.
“I’m not a surgeon,” she said. “I’m a general practitioner.”
He smiled in amusement. “There isn’t much I don’t already know about you, Maren, including the illicit visits from the man who is undoubtedly the father of your child, which is why I felt pressed to make my move now. And I don’t expect you to do my surgery. In my line of work, it becomes necessary to change my appearance every so often. That way I remain a step ahead of my pursuers—and there are many. The time has come for me to move on from this place and start over somewhere else. I’m starting to feel the heat, as you Americans say. Therefore I’ll be flying to Paris in a few days’ time and you’re going to accompany me and oversee my recovery.”
“Why on earth would you trust me?” she asked incredulously. “You have no reason at all to believe I wouldn’t betray you at the first opportunity.”
“Oh, but I do,” he said softly. “You see, I’m sure you value your unborn child’s life.”
Maren sucked in her breath, her eyes widening in shock. How the hell would Armand know anything about KGI? Much less her connection to them. Panic surged in her chest, tightening until she could barely breathe. What the hell was going on? And what did Mendoza want to use her for?
She’d prayed steadily over the last three days that Steele would return quickly. Surely if he found her gone, her clinic unopened, he wouldn’t just assume she’d gone off on a whim. He’d look for her. She had to believe that. And she hoped to hell he hurried, because she had no idea what Mendoza had in mind for her, but it couldn’t be good.
“They are no match for me,” Mendoza said arrogantly.
“That’s what you think,” Maren muttered under her breath.
“Don’t underestimate her connections,” Armand said in a soft voice. “Underestimation will get a man killed every time.”
“You act as though you think this organization of hers is more powerful than I am. Besides, we’re leaving soon. Then they won’t be of any worry to me at all.”
“A wise man always watches his six,” Armand replied.
Maren frowned and then straightened in her seat when she heard them walking in her direction. She stared into the distance and raised her glass of water to her lips, pretending she hadn’t heard them at all.
Armand sounded military to her. It was the way he spoke, the jargon he used. He was American, though. A traitor? Defector? Or just a lackey for hire, willing to farm out his services to whoever had the money to pay him?
“Maren, you look beautiful,” Mendoza said smoothly when he and Armand rounded the corner of the terrace. “I was correct that that color would be stunning on you. It accentuates your eyes quite nicely.”
She gritted her teeth and forced back the caustic reply that hovered on her lips.
Mendoza waved his hand at Armand. “You may leave us now. Be back in an hour’s time to take Maren back to her room.”
Armand glanced her way and stared a long moment before nodding and retreating.
Mendoza sat down across from her and then held up his hand to snap his fingers. In an instant, a servant appeared bearing a tray with their dinner plates.
A plate of grilled fish was set in front of her, and as she stared down at it, her stomach rebelled at the mere idea of putting it in her mouth. She sucked in steadying breaths through her nose, willing the nausea to go away.
Pregnancy had made her hypersensitive to smells, and the slightly fishy odor emanating from the plate sent her right over the edge.
“You don’t look well,” Mendoza said.
She glanced up to see him watching her, lazy amusement in his eyes.
“I can’t eat this,” she said, pushing it away.
“Any particular reason?”
“I can think of several. Being held against my will isn’t exactly great for inspiring an appetite,” she snapped.
“And it couldn’t be because you’re carrying a child and the thought of food makes you ill?” he asked mildly.
She couldn’t control her reaction. Her fear had to have been broadcast for the entire world to see. She pushed back from the table in a protective measure, putting as much distance between her and him as possible. How the hell could he know she was pregnant? Then, just as quickly, she dismissed her incredulity. Armand was her constant shadow and knew of her visits to the bathroom in the mornings and her sickness. He’d likely taken a stab in the dark, but she had betrayed herself with her reaction and now he knew his shot had been true.
“There’s no reason to panic. I have no intention of harming you or your child.”
“You’ll pardon me if I don’t believe that,” she said.
“I’ve been watching you for a while now. I’m attracted to you, Maren,” he said unemotionally. They could have been discussing the most mundane topic in the world for as much enthusiasm as was reflected in those words. “At first I sought you out because you were a convenient solution to a problem I needed solved. But I find I rather like the idea of you being where I am.”
“And what problem do you need solved?” she asked, afraid of what the answer would be.
“I’m having plastic surgery soon. Again.”
Her eyebrows went up in disbelief. Plastic surgery? He had to be freaking kidding.
“I’m not a surgeon,” she said. “I’m a general practitioner.”
He smiled in amusement. “There isn’t much I don’t already know about you, Maren, including the illicit visits from the man who is undoubtedly the father of your child, which is why I felt pressed to make my move now. And I don’t expect you to do my surgery. In my line of work, it becomes necessary to change my appearance every so often. That way I remain a step ahead of my pursuers—and there are many. The time has come for me to move on from this place and start over somewhere else. I’m starting to feel the heat, as you Americans say. Therefore I’ll be flying to Paris in a few days’ time and you’re going to accompany me and oversee my recovery.”
“Why on earth would you trust me?” she asked incredulously. “You have no reason at all to believe I wouldn’t betray you at the first opportunity.”
“Oh, but I do,” he said softly. “You see, I’m sure you value your unborn child’s life.”
She froze, her blood turning to ice. Fear trickled up her spine as she stared at his very determined expression. “What are you saying?”
“I’m proposing a bargain of sorts. You do as I want and no harm will come to you or your child. Give me any reason to doubt you and you’ll suffer. I can’t be any more clear than that.”
“You bastard,” she seethed. “What gives you the right to take over my life, keep me as a prisoner to act as your personal physician? Only a complete bastard would blackmail me with the safety of my child.”
“Think of me as you wish. But my offer stands firm. Prove yourself indispensable to me or you’ll be disposed of just as the others in my employ will soon be.”
“What do you mean, you’re disposing of the others in your employ?” she demanded.
He smiled. “So caring of others. It’s one of the things I like about you, Maren. But yes, I will be rid of those who serve me. It becomes necessary to disappear, and one can hardly do that when he’s surrounded by dozens of people. Only you and Armand will accompany me into my new life.”
“What will you do with them?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “Nothing directly. Perhaps the organization you have ties to will dispense with them for me when they come to rescue you. But that isn’t the important issue, Maren. Do I have your agreement? Are you going to cooperate or will I have to dispose of you as I do the others?”
She couldn’t believe this. It was absolutely surreal. Like some bizarre dream she couldn’t wake up from. Things like this didn’t happen in her world. Sure, she didn’t have the most normal existence. She’d certainly been in her share of predicaments. Africa came readily to mind. But KGI had gotten her out when she and several other aid workers had been held hostage by a militant rebel group. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and was caught up in a hostage situation.
But never had she been singled out like she had been now. She never drew attention to herself. She blended in, did her work and was largely ignored except by people seeking her services. While she couldn’t ever say her life was boring, neither could she say it was anything out of the ordinary. She did her work and spent the rest of her time in her cottage. Reading, drinking tea or other mundane, boring tasks.
“It doesn’t appear I have any real choice,” she said, despair creeping into her voice.
“There’s always a choice. Some are just more desirable than others.”
“What about after?” Her chin came up and she shook some of the paralyzing fear away. She had to be smart about this. Had to look beyond her initial panic and think of some way out of this. “Will you let me go after you’ve recovered from your surgery? And what about when my child is born? Will you let me go before I deliver?”
He pursed his lips and regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment. “That is something we will discuss when the time comes. You can rest assured that I will provide you the best medical care possible when it is time for you to deliver your child. And as long as you uphold your end of the bargain, no harm will come to you or your child. That’s the only guarantee I’m prepared to offer.”
Her heart sank. Would she forever be his prisoner? And maybe he wouldn’t touch her now, when she was pregnant, but what about after? Did he plan to keep her as his mistress? Would he force himself on her after her pregnancy was over?
He’d told her no harm would come to her or her child provided she cooperated. But what did he consider harm? If he was convinced of his sexual prowess, it was entirely possible he planned to make a move on her regardless of whether she was pregnant.
And then another thought hit her and it nearly crippled her. She raised her gaze to his and stared back unflinchingly.
“Promise me that you won’t separate me from my child,” she said. “I’ll agree to your terms if you swear to me that my child stays with me no matter what. And if you swear you won’t hurt either of us.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up into a half smile.
Her eyes narrowed and anger made her reckless. “I’ll make you a promise, Mendoza. If you do anything at all to harm my child or to take it away from me, I’ll kill you. I’ll find a way, and believe me, there are ways to die that you’d never expect. As a doctor I have extensive knowledge, and I wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you suffer. Are we understood?”
His smile faded. He went still, staring intently at her a long moment. Their gazes locked, neither backing down or looking away. Then he slowly nodded.
“We understand each other. But know this, I’ll expect certain concessions from you when I’ve fully recovered from my surgery. As long as you keep me happy, you’ll give me no reason to go back on my word. Keep that in mind.”
His meaning couldn’t be misunderstood. He did expect an intimate relationship with her, and it didn’t even appear as though he planned to wait until after her child was born. Her stomach revolted at the mere thought.
“Now that we’ve gotten business matters out of the way, shall I have something else for you to eat brought out to the terrace? Or perhaps you’d like to retire to your room now and contemplate your new circumstances.”
She nodded numbly and then pushed up from her chair, her knees shaking so hard she worried she’d fall. Armand appeared, his sharp gaze finding hers. Then he took her arm, his grasp surprisingly gentle.
“See that she makes it back to her room,” Mendoza said. “And arrange for breakfast to be brought to her in the morning. Don’t worry about preparing anything, Maren. Armand will take care of all our travel arrangements. When I’m ready to leave, Armand will come for you.”
Armand’s grip suddenly tightened on her arm and she blinked, realizing that he’d been saying something to her.
“You’re pale,” he murmured, surprising her by offering an opinion. He rarely said anything at all, and usually it was to give her a terse order from Mendoza. “Come with me. After I’ve taken you to your room, I’ll have some hot tea brought to you. I made certain we stocked all your favorites.”
She stared hard, her mind grappling to take it all in. This had been planned. She’d been watched for God only knew how long. Armand knew far too much about her. He knew about KGI. He knew what teas she drank. Who the hell was this man?
Armand urged her forward, and she had no choice but to fall into step with him or be dragged behind him. He didn’t walk with his usual brisk pace, though. He slowed and seemed to wait while she slogged through mud. Every step was like dragging a ton of bricks behind her.
When he got to her door, he opened it and instead of leaving her as he usually did, he ushered her inside and eased her down on the edge of the bed.
“Put your feet up and rest. I’ll have your tea brought to you,” he said shortly.
Her gaze collided with his and she shook off the fog surrounding her. “How do you know so much about me?” she asked quietly. “Who are you?”
One corner of his mouth quirked upward, but it didn’t remotely resemble a smile. It just made him look more dangerous than ever.
“Why me?” she blurted. “I heard what you said to him. You think he shouldn’t involve me. Can’t you convince him to leave me behind?”
Armand’s eyes flickered and then his lips tightened into a firm line. “It’s too late for you, Maren. You know too much. If he leaves you behind at this point, he’ll kill you. Your only option is to go along for the ride and cooperate fully. Don’t do anything to piss him off. I’ll protect you the best I can. But be smart.”