The Art of Retaliation (3 page)

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Authors: Arabella Kingsley

BOOK: The Art of Retaliation
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He ignored the second part of question and Mara found
herself
resisting the urge to shake it out of him.
 
He was trying to maintain control and
advantage by keeping her in the dark.

 

“Maxine is in the room next to you.
 
I will have her brought in shortly.
 
In the meantime come and have your
breakfast.”

 

“No I don’t want anything, especially not from you.”

 

She moved away.

 

“Now, now, temper, Mara,” he teased.
 
“Breakfast is the most important meal of
the day.
 
Come and sit down.”

 

“No I have told you I don’t want anything.
 
Please leave so I can dress.”

 

“Mara, come and sit down.”
 
The billionaire lowered his voice to a dark velvet caress.
 
“If you don’t I will be forced to come
over there and carry you over here.
 
Sit down.”

 

He meant every word and to her annoyance the prospect of him taking
control of her and making her obey him excited her.
 
Her feelings made her all the more
determined to ignore his warning and regain control over her rebellious need to
warm to the man.

 

‘Try it, you might just get a surprise when I knock you to the
floor,” she hissed in retaliation.

 

The look he gave her was menacing, dangerous and to her shame
aroused her.
 
She took a breath and
backed away forgetting her bravado when he stood and advanced towards her.
 
She didn’t make it very far.
 
With a breathless gasp she found her
wrist being taken.
 
The
billionaire’s arm wound around her waist and the other moved up under her legs
lifting her up in to his arms before she could start struggling.

 

“Put me down.
 
Typical
man, when I won’t respond to idle threats you resort to brute force.”

 

He looked down at her struggling form in his arms with amusement and
began to carry her back across the room.

 

“It’s about time someone took you in hand, Mara.
 
I can see why you are ill.
 
You don’t eat.
 
The food brought up to your room last
night was untouched.
 
You aren’t
very good at looking after yourself.
 
A lot of career women like you rarely are,’ he told her casually.

 

Mara struggled fiercely and beat her fists against his chest in
fury.
 
He let her fall
unceremoniously onto the sofa causing her to lightly bounce off it and sat down
next to her.

 

“And that someone would be you I presume,” she almost spat the words
out with contempt.

 

He leant towards her bringing his face level with hers.
 
He brushed some rebellious strands of
light blonde hair away from her brow before running his hand through the
abundant soft sheen, feeling its soft texture.
 
He tucked it behind her ear, taking the
liberty of caressing her throat as he brought his hand away.
 
Mara felt her body melt with his touch.

 

“If you wanted it to be.”

 

He was too close.
 
Frightened more of her own actions that may have followed, she pulled
away and sat away from him on the sofa.
 
He sat back with a sigh reading the scowl on her face.

 

“Come on eat.
 
Look I
brought you tea.
 
I know you can’t
function without it in the morning,” he coaxed.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“I know everything about you.
 
I made it my business to before I brought you here.”

 

“You mean kidnapped me.”

 

Stepahane
smoothed
his tie down and bent his head.
 
He
appeared more than uncomfortable with the term and his actions.
 
He said no more and busied himself by
pouring Mara some tea.
 
He handed it
to her then placed
a
almond croissant on a plate and
handing it to her.
 
It was her
favourite
but the thoughts of eating when she felt so
stressed made nausea rise.
 
Worried
he might force feed her Mara forced the pastry into her dry mouth.
 
She never seemed to have much time for
food, only enough to stop her running on empty.
 
She had no appetite at the moment,
another symptom
Dr
Martin had insisted, and every
time she ate it got more difficult to force down.

 

He watched her intently and after she had managed to swallow half
without being sick she tried to get him to leave the room.

 

“Please leave now, I’ve eaten enough,’ she stated grateful the task
was over.

 

“No you haven’t but I will let it go this time.
 
Eating seems to give you some
trouble.
 
My doctor will attend to
that when he comes to examine you later.”

 

Mara gave a heavy sigh.

 

“I do not need a to see a doctor.”

 

“Yes, you do.”

 

“Get out unless you want to tell me more about what is going on with
Ryan and your sister.
 
You have made
one hell of a mistake.
 
I am not
involved in this conspiracy you have concocted.”

 

Stephane’s
eyes
narrowed and then softened feigning amusement.
 
He picked up a croissant and headed for
the door ignoring her comment.

 

“By the way, I am entertaining some guests at lunchtime and I would
appreciate you both staying in this room until they have left this evening,
when I will expect you in the dining room, dressed for dinner.”

 

Mara took a gulp of tea and then stood eyeing him with
contempt.
 
She strode to the
bathroom irritated he had not yet left.

 

She walked to the bathroom heavily conscious of him taking in the
movement of her soft curves until she slammed the door behind her.

 
 
 

Mara dressed in shorts and a vest top from her suitcase refusing to
unpack.
 
She had no intention of
staying.
 
A little while later
Maxine entered the room and the door was shut behind her.
 
Maxine turned to hear the key turn in
the lock and looked fearfully at Mara who was already on her feet rushing to
try the handle.
 
It only proved what
she already knew.

 

“Mara, what are we going to do?’ Maxine asked tearfully.

 

She put a comforting arm around her shoulders and gave them a
squeeze.

 

“I don’t know.
 
I don’t
understand what is going on.
 
That
pompous fool won’t tell me anything.
 
He is so vague about everything.”

 

Maxine pulled away and sat on the bed caressing the silk with her
hand as she traced it back and forth in a soothing motion.

 

“I need a cigarette.”

 

She opened the elegant silver cigarette box she took out of her
trouser pocket and hurriedly inserted a cigarette between her lips and lit
it.
 
A second later she released the
smoke from her lungs and sighed with welcome relief.

 

Mara grimaced.
 
She
thought of cigarettes as drugs and couldn’t help feeling angry that her
beautiful room would probably smell of stale smoke later.

 

“I thought you had given up,’” she reprimanded opening a window.

 

“I tried for three months.
 
I was doing really well but then Paul left me.
 
You know how upset I was and I needed
something to keep me sane.”

 

Maxine quickly changed the subject obviously eager for the
conversation not to erupt into an argument.

 

“Are you all right, Mara?
 
I was really worried when you fainted last night.
 
Have things been getting to you after
Ryan left?’

 

“Not so much.
 
According
to my doctor it’s overwork.
 
I am
over Ryan.
 
He had an affair.
 
He had many affairs.
 
Never mind that anyway, we have to think
of a way to get out of here before
Stephane
decides
to stop being so courteous.”

 

“I can’t believe this is happening.
 
He can’t just kidnap us.”

 

Maxine ran a manicured hand through the platinum tousled hair that
hung around her shoulders unaccustomed to its freedom.

 

“Well he has and he has been evading every question I ask.
 
Are we somewhere along the Loire?”
Maraasked
.

 

‘Taking a look at this place most definitely.
 
I saw a signs for Tours last night, we
must be somewhere past there.”

 

Maxine’s French accent was thick.
 
She took another puff of the cigarette
and moved to the window.

 

“You have to admit though it isn’t a bad place to be kidnapped,” she
added.

 

“No, it’s lovely.
 
I
would love to live in this place.”

 

Maxine’s green eyes lit up and a sly smile lifted the corners of her
mouth.
 
It was a smile that Mara
knew only too well.
 
It meant
trouble. Maxine had suspicions about her and was usually right.

 

“I don’t think you want to get out of here, Mara.
Stephane
Garreau
is very
handsome, rich and powerful and he appears to have, how do you English say
it?
 
Taken a shine to you.”

 

“What do you mean?” Mara asked in an innocent voice but she knew
exactly what Maxine was referring to.

 

Maxine wasn’t to be fooled.
 
She had known Mara since they were teenagers when her father had been an
assistant to the French Ambassador in England.
 
She could read Mara like a book.

 

“Oh come on, forget trying to appear innocent.
 
You must have noticed how he couldn’t
take his eyes off you last night and what about you?
 
You weren’t much better.
 
I…’

 

Mara felt herself color and grow hot by the insinuation that she was
attracted to her kidnapper.
 
She cut
Maxine off in mid flow, quick to dispel her ideas.

 

“If you think I have fallen for a man who is holding me prisoner you
are very much mistaken.”

 

“But what about your dream as a petite
fille
that you wanted
Mr
Right to whisk you off to his castle
where you would live happily ever after.
 
Maybe your dream is coming true,” Maxine cruelly teased.

 

Mara threw her a look that could have killed.

 

“A stupid nine year
old’s
dream.
 
I am an independent woman with a
career.
 
I have no need for men and
the baggage they carry around with them.”

 

“Ryan has hurt you.
 
It’s
bound to leave a scar and make you a little bitter.
 
But attraction and love can’t be
ignored.
 
No matter how hard you
try,” Maxine grinned amused by own words.

 

“I have a very successful career and I am happy with that.
 
I don’t want a man to ruin it and take
it away from me so I can be his slave in marriage.”

 

Mara’s voice shook with determination but was choking with
pain.
 
Maxine shook her head
believing it unwise to push the matter any further.
 

 

“Ok as long as you are happy with that.
 
I see you are still wearing your
engagement ring, Mara.”

 

Mara looked down at her hand.

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