Love Captive (7 page)

As Carlos swung her around and courteously led her back inside, Anne felt her heart sink. She had absolutely no intention of trying to fly home tonight, but Carlos had called her bluff. No matter how angry she might be with Michael at the moment, she couldn't desert him, especially without even letting him know of Carlos's threat.

Anne stopped walking and faced her companion.

"All right, Carlos, you win. I don't plan to leave for home just yet, not until there's some resolution of this whole stupid mess. But I'm feeling so dreadfully tired; I do wish we could get it all settled as quickly as possible."

Carlos flashed her a warm smile, tucking her hand over his arm in a far more friendly fashion. "That is my wish, too, Anne, believe me. And you know how we might get it settled very quickly, within a few hours? Phone your brother and tell him what I've told you, that I plan to go immediately to the police if he does not return my sister. Once he hears this and realizes that I mean it, he will surely see that the jig is up, as you Americans so quaintly put it. If he were to put Dolores on a plane for Paris immediately, then this entire problem could be resolved within a very few hours. What do you say, Anne?" Carlos's dark eyes gleamed with what seemed to be friendliness as they gazed steadily at Anne.

Oh, no, no, you don't
! Anne thought instantly in response to that look.
That's just the way you looked at me in that sleazy little bar in Tangier, and then you led me straight into a trap when I fell for it. Not again, mister. You can just save your phony smile, that charm you turn on and off like a spigot, for someone else. I'm wise to you now
.

"That would be just peachy keen," Anne countered tartly, "except for one or two minor things. Your sister does not happen to have a valid passport at the moment, thanks to you and your father, and—"

"But by now she surely has obtained a forged one," Carlos interrupted, flashing Anne a warm, charming smile. "That was the purpose of your driving them down to Casablanca, am I not right? So if you'll stop making up excuses, please, we'll make faster progress toward the goal we both so avidly desire."

With anger suddenly spurting through her, Anne stopped walking. She yanked her arm free of Carlos's hold and glared furiously at him. "Kindly cut that out, Carlos. Stop acting as though we're bosom buddies, united in our wish to achieve the same thing, because, believe me, we're not. You tricked me in Tangier and you're not going to do it again. For all your indignation and pretended innocence when I accused you of having us followed from that club, you had two of your men all set to pounce on Michael the moment he showed up at Tay's boat, though how you managed to arrange it—" Anne shook her head in puzzlement, still glaring furiously at Carlos, her breath coming hard.

The warm friendliness faded out of Carlos's eyes, replaced by a steely glint of arrogance. His lips moved apart in a cold, condescending smile. "Child's play, believe me. I told you I had ordered a drink from the bar, so when I went to pay for that—"

"You had already bribed the bartender!" Anne broke in indignantly. "So that was how!"

"
Bribed
?" Carlos's smile grew even icier, even more contemptuously condescending. "If you mean that I offered him a small amount of money for his cooperation, of course I did. That you should make that sound like something criminal—a bribe indeed! —merely shows once again how myopic you are about this entire situation. Ah, you self-righteous Americans! Your brother abducts my sister, you fly over to aid and abet him, yet in both your eyes
I
am the criminal. In dealing with people like you, why should I not seek alliance anywhere I can find it?"

Breathing so hard it was painful, Anne continued to glare in fury at this monstrously self-assured man whose eyes spit such lofty contempt at her. "So you told the bartender where we were going—"

"I did. I also arranged for two men to meet me there, to stay in concealment under the pier and take your brother into custody the moment he showed up. But he failed to show up, as both of us know." Carlos paused a moment, glancing impatiently away, then his eyes circled back. "But why are we dredging up this ancient history? That is over and done. You say I tricked you, yet I was the one who wasted an entire night with nothing to show for it. Now, however, the tables have turned, and I ask you: Will you phone your brother now or not?"

Anne stared angrily at Carlos a moment longer, then, as her eyes dropped, she felt a deep sigh rise within her. Though it hurt her to see it, it was time she faced the fact that Carlos was precisely the man his sister had said he was, obsessed with his own desires, unable to see that anyone else had any rights at all. If he could calmly hire two thugs to attack Michael, to take Michael into "custody," as he so self-righteously put it, then he would surely not hesitate to go to the police with a phony story about Michael's being guilty of theft. The situation was hopeless.

"Well, will you call or won't you?" Carlos demanded again, impatiently.

With a second, smaller sigh, Anne swung around and began walking again, out of the airport. Carlos fell immediately into step beside her.

"Carlos, quite possibly I would if I could," Anne remarked wearily. "But I haven't a way in the world of reaching him. I have to wait for him to phone me."

"And how soon will that be?"

Anne shrugged, weary tears edging into her eyes. "Two days, he said. He and Dolores didn't want me to return home until they were sure they wouldn't need me anymore. They were feeling so happy, so full of hope—"
And just wait until they hear what I now have to say
!

"Then you do know where you plan to stay, as I assumed you did," Carlos snapped with obvious anger. "Otherwise your brother wouldn't know where to phone you. You little fool! You say you're tired, and heaven knows I am too, I'm ready to drop. Yet still you play games. We could have been resting in a cab for minutes now, speeding toward our destination. When are you going to realize there is no way for you to beat me and that you might as well give in and cooperate? It would make everything so very much easier."

Sure—for you
! Anne thought in fury, glancing sideways at the man for whom she now felt enormous contempt. But for the moment at least he seemed to be so firmly in control that to try to obstruct him anymore tonight seemed foolish even to her. More than anything else right now she needed a good night's sleep. Maybe in the morning —oh, surely in the morning everything would look brighter again. Maybe she'd even be able to think of some way out.

When Anne woke in the morning, she gazed around the room she found herself in with a confused, almost frightened feeling before she remembered where she was.
Paris
. The most romantic city in the world. Suddenly frowning, she lay in bed struggling to remember half-forgotten lines:
Oh, London is a man's town
—and then what?—
while Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair
. Anne smiled softly to herself, enjoying the thought. Paris, with flowers in her hair. Except that somewhere in the city lurked Carlos, like a bumblebee ready to sting and paralyze her. With a deep sigh she climbed out of bed.

Michael wasn't due to phone until tomorrow, which meant that she had an entire day to herself, in Paris, the City of Enchantment, the City of Light. Washing and dressing, Anne made a firm decision: In spite of everything, Michael and his messy romance, Carlos and his arrogance, she was going to enjoy her one solitary day in Paris. She would push all worries out of her mind and simply let go and enjoy herself!

As she emerged onto the sidewalk from the small
pension
where she was staying, Anne saw with pleasure that it was a lovely day, warm and bright. Without any very clear idea of where she was going, she turned to her right and began walking briskly toward a nearby intersection. She had tried to communicate with the tiny, white-haired woman running the boardinghouse, but the woman did not understand English and, sadly enough, Anne understood only the most common French words. Any conversation in French more complicated than "
Bonjour, mademoiselle"
was quite beyond her. She had gotten the impression that possibly the tiny Frenchwoman had been offering her breakfast, but, not completely sure, she had merely smiled, bowed her head, and left.

She wasn't terribly hungry at the moment anyway, so she would simply walk until she ran across a cafe or restaurant. The fact that the only money she carried was U.S. currency, and that she would need to exchange her dollars for French francs before buying herself anything, had not yet crossed her mind. All her mental energy was engaged in the nearly impossible task of pushing out of her mind all thought of the future as she decisively insisted to herself that she was going to enjoy the day. Let go and enjoy. Live in the present. All her life she'd dreamed of someday going to Paris and now that she was here she was going to see all she possibly could, pack into her one free day here every delight imaginable. Paris. The City of Light, the City of Love.

"Anne! Over here, Anne!"

Anne became aware of the beep-beep of a horn at the same moment she heard her name called. Startled, she stopped walking and glanced around. A small car swerved into the curb and braked. From behind the wheel a tall, elegant figure emerged, waving imperiously to her over the top of the car. It couldn't be, but it was—Carlos!

"Climb in the car, Anne. It's illegal to park here, and the last thing I need is a ticket. Come on, get in." Carlos dropped down and disappeared inside the tiny car again. Anne caught a renewed glimpse of him as he leaned across the front seat and threw open the passenger door for her.

In an instant fury, Anne told herself that she wasn't going to do as he said. Why should she? This was her one and only free day, her one chance to see and enjoy the sights of Paris. Why should she allow him to spoil it for her? She owed him nothing, and at this point he could scarcely threaten her with anything more than he already had. Until Michael phoned her tomorrow and she could give him Carlos's message, Carlos would almost surely restrain himself and not rush angrily to the police, an action he had made it reasonably clear he did not want to resort to. So just let him buzz off, in his fancy little car!

Throwing her head back, Anne began walking briskly forward again, ignoring the little car that crept along the curb keeping pace with her, pretending she didn't hear the constant beep-beep of the horn. Anne reached the intersection, glanced about, and swung around the corner to the right. She was in a neighborhood of large old houses, many of which looked centuries old, and the sidewalk down which she hurried was so narrow two people could scarcely pass each other on it. The street seemed almost as narrow, as though two cars going in opposite directions might have some difficulty passing each other. No wonder so many European cars were compact or subcompact.

As she continued her fast pace down the sidewalk, Anne no longer heard the beep-beep-beeping horn. She glanced around and saw no sign of Carlos or his car. Thank goodness, he must have given up. Anne slowed her pace a bit, suddenly aware that she was famished. She hadn't the least idea where she was. The night before she'd given the
pension
address to Carlos, who had relayed it to the cab driver, and she'd been far too tired to pay any attention to the direction in which they'd gone. Not that it would have helped much had she paid attention. Anne glanced rather worriedly ahead. Where in the world was a cafe, or a bus stop? If only she could catch a bus into the heart of the city…

At that thought, Anne felt her heart plunge down. Oh dear, how could she catch a bus when she hadn't a French sou on her? The first thing she'd have to do, before she could eat or go anywhere, was convert some of her American money into French. Abruptly she stopped walking, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by it all. Here she was, alone in a foreign city where she spoke scarcely a word of the language, not knowing where she was at the moment or where she wanted to go. What a beginning for a day she had resolutely determined to enjoy! That moment she felt an almost irresistible impulse to swing around and run back to the
pension
, where at least she had a room with a chair to sit on and a bed to weep on. With gestures, she might even get it through to the tiny little woman who ran the place that she was dreadfully hungry and would truly welcome some food.

As she stood debating her next move—whether she was going to give in to hunger and fear and return to the boardinghouse or stick by her resolution to see the city and forge courageously ahead— Anne felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder, hard. She was so startled and frightened she jumped. Her eyes jerked around.

"Oh, Carlos, it's you," she said, almost but not quite admitting to herself the relief she felt. "I thought you'd given up and gone away."

Carlos's well-shaped mouth moved into an arrogant little smile. "Proving how little you know me. Believe me, Anne, I never give up—on anything. My car, which I arranged to rent this morning, is parked in an alley a block away. Now why don't you be a good little girl and come along with me as you should?" Taking her arm, he attempted to swing her around.

Instantly irritated, Anne attempted to draw her arm free. "Who says I should? The Almighty Carlos? I wish you'd get over the notion that the entire world owes you obedience. I personally owe you nothing. I thought I had made it perfectly clear that I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere with you!"

By then Anne had managed to pull her arm out of his grasp and she stood glaring at Carlos. Oh, how this man infuriated her—and how incredibly hand-some he looked in the clear morning light, with his aristocratic features and shining black hair! If only his beautiful form didn't house such a cold, scheming, unrepentant viper! Anne felt unexpected and fervently unwelcome tears come into her eyes. She felt suddenly so hungry and angry she was dizzy.

Carlos stood before her, his black eyes directly meeting her blue ones. His expression was one of controlled annoyance, as though he were a teacher about out of patience after repeated attempts to deal calmly with a difficult child.