Nothing but Trouble (15 page)

She thought about their intense lovemaking. He’d seen to her needs as well as his own. Something she hadn’t experienced with any other partner. Not that she’d had all that many. In contrast Brent was older than most of the men she’d dated and his experience showed; he’d been a powerful and thorough lover. She knew she’d never be able to make love with another man and not make comparisons.

Again she felt a warm glow fill her body at the image of them entwined in the throes of passion, but she couldn’t afford to linger on that right now. Tearing her gaze away from his sleeping profile she looked around the cabin until her glance fell on the door that led topside. There had to be some way she could make contact with the outside world. At the very least, contact her father to assure him she was all right. It surprised her to realize she was more concerned with that then with escaping. When her gaze landed on Brent again the reason became crystal clear. She didn’t want to escape at all. She wasn’t an expert on kidnappings but intuition told her something wasn’t right about the whole situation. Sooner or later she was going to find out what. She wasn’t quite ready to believe his story about kidnapping Eunice Holland either.

Besides, escaping Brent would lead her directly into Jonathan’s arms. On that thought she slowly turned away from him, scooting to the edge of the bed. She carefully reached for the first shirt she saw on the floor, slipping it on and keeping her head turned so she could watch him out of the corner of her eye. Then, holding her breath, she rose gingerly to her feet. She was certain Brent had a cellular phone somewhere on the boat. The first place she checked was the pockets of his jeans, sighing with deep disappointment when her search turned up nothing but some loose change and his truck keys. Then it occurred to her he’d hardly keep it in the bedroom where she might get her hands on it. She turned toward the narrow hallway leading to the galley.

When she was far enough away from the bedroom she hurried the rest of the way to the tiny galley, which had all the amenities of a normal kitchen only in much smaller dimensions. There was even a small nook to sit and eat in. Her gaze darted wildly around the confining space, and she jumped for joy when they landed on the small black cell phone. Dashing to the counter she snatched it up, almost dropping it while hurriedly dialing her father’s private number. It bypassed his secretary’s desk and right now she didn’t have time to waste talking with Rita.

“Please be there!” she whispered desperately as it rang. She kept her worried gaze on the doorway praying Brent was a heavy sleeper. The tenderness and consideration she’d found in his arms didn’t fool her into thinking he wouldn’t be furious if he caught her jeopardizing his plans. She was about to give up when finally on the fourth ring she heard an all-too-familiar voice.

“Who is this?”

Knowing her father and his moods very well, she realized that the gruff tone of his voice indicated he was preoccupied and probably knee-deep in work. In addition, he hated interruptions. Very few people had his private number and it usually meant some kind of crisis when they used it. Sophie was only thankful he hadn’t changed the number as he’d threatened to do a hundred times.

“This better be good,” he warned.

“Dad, it’s me!” She wasn’t expecting the long pause that followed. Maybe hearing her voice caused him to go into shock. “Are you all right?” she asked with concern.

“Sophie?”

Am I imagining the surprised hesitancy in his tone?
“I don’t have much time to explain. I…”

“How…what…how…”

He was uncharacteristically stumbling over his words but she was too preoccupied with worry that Brent would walk into the room at any second to question it. “Dad, listen, I don’t know how much time I have. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay.” She turned her back to the doorway so her voice wouldn’t carry.

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad to hear that, dear. I’ve been worried sick. Ah, where are you?” He seemed to have pulled himself together quickly. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Sophie frowned at his odd question. “What do you mean? Other than I’ve been kidnapped, no, and I don’t know where I am either except on a boat somewhere…”

She let out a startled shriek when the phone was suddenly snatched out of her hand, swinging around in time to see Brent slam it closed. He looked mad enough to kill; his sharp expression carved in granite. A muscle flicked angrily in his jaw but it was the look in his eyes, one of disappointment and regret that confused and frightened Sophie. She moistened her dry lips, suddenly wishing there were some place she could run, somewhere safe. Her hand went to her throat, nervously clutching the opened collar of her shirt.

“I-I…”

“Save it,” he growled, his eyes snapping with anger. “I don’t know why I thought you were any different, but deceit and trickery seems to be a common female trait. You didn’t waste any time, letting me make love to you so I’d let my guard down.”

Sophie’s eyes rounded. She didn’t know why it should matter but she didn’t want Brent thinking that about her.

“That’s not why I…”

“Who was that?”

Sophie hesitated. Either he hadn’t heard enough to know she’d been talking to her father, or he was testing her. Maybe he wanted to see if she’d answer him honestly. Instincts told her she’d fare better if she told him the truth. It might gain her some leverage later on. “My father.” She paused, taking a shaky breath. Brent kept his stare narrowed on her, frightening her with the intensity. A line of attack she was certain was meant to remind her who the boss was. “I had to let him know I was okay,” she said in her defense, doubting he would understand.

She was trapped between him and the only way out. There was nowhere for her to go anyway, but she felt compelled to retreat a few steps back. In spite of being convinced he was about to dish out some kind of punishment, Sophie’s gaze moved over his disheveled hair and the faint scratches lining his muscular chest. The sight reminded her of their recent lovemaking.

Her gaze returned to his mouth. His lips were pressed tight and white, revealing his irritation, yet Sophie couldn’t help recalling how sensuously soft they’d been against hers. For as long as she lived she’d never forget what it felt like experiencing her first toe-curling kiss. The kind her high school friends had talked about during lunchtime, and sworn they’d all experienced. Though she instinctively knew there was no way their encounters could hold a candle to the heaven she found in Brent’s strong embrace.

She felt heat spread over her body. Made worse by the way Brent’s gaze shifted down her body, stripping what little she had on, off. Realizing she’d buttoned her shirt in a hurry, she reached up to make sure she was decent. Satisfied with what she found, she ran her hands through her hair.

“Who else did you call?”

“No one else,” Sophie replied softly.

He arched a brow; tightening his mouth more if that were possible. “Not even Lord?”

Sophie shook her head.
He’d be the last one I’d call.

“I’m surprised he wasn’t first on your list. Considering how much you love him, right?”

About as much as I love snakes.
She held back from answering, wondering if he was testing her. Was he worried he wouldn’t get as much ransom if their match weren’t made because of earth-shattering love? If Brent was as money hungry as Jonathan was power hungry, they were a well-matched pair.

Without warning Brent reached for her hand, his gaze zeroing in on her bare finger. She tried to pull away. “Where’s the rock?” he demanded.

“It’s in the nightstand drawer back at your apartment.” She tried again to pull her hand away, but he tightened his hold. For a moment there was a brief struggle as each tried to overpower the other. Sophie hissed in frustration. “Why do you care?”

He practically threw her hand back in her face. “Just why the hell are you marrying him?” He crossed his arms, arching a brow arrogantly.

Sophie didn’t like the sudden look that came into Brent’s eyes. She’d seen that speculative gleam in her father’s eyes many times, shrewd and determined. A ruthless politician when he had to be. He would cut out the middleman quickly, when he could get the job done better and faster. She wondered what that particular look meant on Brent.

The only person who had a right to ask her such a thing was her father and so far, thank God, he hadn’t. Sophie supposed she should thank her lucky stars he hadn’t because lying had never come easy to her. Although now, staring into Brent’s quiet watchful eyes, another one easily passed through her lips.

“I told you, I love him.” The words sounded shallow and false even to her ears.

Brent snorted. “You love him? That’s priceless! Is that why you made love with me? Or are you just a spoiled, rich little whor—”

She reacted without thinking, slapping him across the face as hard as she could and cutting off the ugly word he’d been about to say. Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. She didn’t want him thinking that of her. She’d made love with him because there was something about him that drew her. Something she instinctively knew she’d never find again.

It felt as though a fist squeezed around her heart. Sophie turned her back to him, determined to pull herself together. Telling Brent the truth would only open up the door to more questions and she didn’t want that. After all, she was the victim. What was he complaining about? He’d kidnapped her and slept with her and in the end he would get paid for it.

Huh!
That was rich.

She wiped angrily at the tears running down her cheeks, fighting back a sob that managed to escape anyway. The image of their lovemaking was fresh in her mind; she’d given Brent all she had to give, and it had been real.

Behind her she heard him release a low curse. “Hell, maybe I deserved that.”

“That and more,” she agreed without facing him, her angry tone giving her away. She’d never slapped a man before. There were times when she’d wanted to hit Jonathan but she’d refused to reveal her frustration by lashing out at him. Besides, he purposely baited her and she came out the victor by not responding.

She jumped when Brent’s cell phone rang, but she didn’t turn around. She glanced at a folder on the countertop. She hadn’t noticed it before now. The corner of a glossy picture was clearly visible, and Sophie’s curiosity got the better of her. Listening to Brent’s voice in the background as he barked into the receiver, her hand dropped to the counter.

“Now’s not a good time!” She heard him growl, close behind her. Too close. Then she heard the sound of his phone snapping shut. Sophie knew she had to make a grab for the picture now if she wanted to see what it was.

“Was that your partner in crime?” Her fingers inched ever closer to the corner of it.

“You might say that,” he responded in a low, even tone. Suddenly she felt his hand curling around her upper arm, drawing her away from the table and toward him.

Gasping, Sophie automatically put her hands against his bare chest as if to fend him off. “Don’t,” she gasped, straining away from him as much as his hold would allow. The flesh beneath her palm was hot and molded like a bronze statue.

He ignored her. “You can’t be trusted. I should lock you in the bathroom for your little stunt,” he threatened.

Which one? Sophie assumed he was talking about the phone call. She tried to ignore the pull of his masculine scent. “You would have done the same thing,” she fired back, straining away from him. “What did you expect?”

“Are we talking about the hot and heavy sex or the sneaky phone call?” He jerked her closer against him. “Less than a few hours ago you were wild in my arms, eager for my hands and mouth on you. Now your back is up, and you’re acting like a frightened virgin.”

“What do you think?” Her whispered words hung in the air between them. The fire in Brent’s eyes fueled her anger. He had a nerve being angry; she was the one being held against her will. “This is a new experience for me. As the saying goes, I’m flying by the seat of my pants.”

He raised a brow. “Really, it didn’t take you very long to realize that making love with your abductor might switch things in your favor. I guess it only proves that women are alike. When all else fails, use your body to get what you want.”

The urge to hit him again crossed Sophie’s mind. Instead, she shrugged. “If that’s what you want to think.”

She could tell her lackluster response angered him. His eyes turned into volcanic glass, the hand on her arm squeezed until she gasped with mild pain. He loosened his grip immediately, but he didn’t release her. “Well, then, I might as well take advantage of some free sex, while waiting for my ransom demands to be met.”

Alarm raced through Sophie, because his words sparked her desire. “Take your hands off me!” she demanded, fear at the meaning behind his comment causing her heart to skip a beat. He slowly pulled her closer. She saw the hunger fill his eyes, before he glanced at her mouth. “You’re not married, are you?”

Her question caught him totally off-guard and he jerked back as if she’d bit him. His gaze narrowed on her with suspicion. “No. There’s no one,” he replied. “Why?”

How can I answer that without revealing I care about his answer?
“I just wanted to know if you’re a faithful man.” She lowered her lashes, which was a mistake when all it did was bring his bare chest into view. The scratches her nails had inflicted were fading proof of the passion they’d shared.