Prisoner Of Passion

Bella pushed away her plate. He was telling her that she had wrecked his chances of escape. But for her persistence he would have continued to exercise restraint on that point. Rico da Silva was not the type to cry over spilt milk but, challenged beyond his tolerance threshold, he had given her what she’d asked for. And honesty had never been less welcome.

‘Sorry really wouldn’t cover it, would it?’ she breathed jerkily.

‘No importa... Who can tell what would have happened? A hundred things could have gone wrong,’ he dismissed wryly. ‘I bear my own share of responsibility for our plight. I dismissed my bodyguards. And had I not taken you down there you would not be here now. They were waiting for me. I have business lunches almost every day. As a potential target you are told to vary your schedule but lunch... lunch is difficult to vary—’

‘I guess.’ Bella was surprised by his sudden denial of her culpability.

Lustrous dark eyes glimmered in the dim light over her anxious face. ‘Por Dios... It is inexcusable that I should take my anger and frustration out on you. I owe you my apologies. I am not accustomed to this feeling of being powerless. I have always been aware that I could be the target for such a crime but I did not seriously believe that this could happen to me. Arrogance brings its own reward.’

‘I don’t see what you could have done to prevent it.’ It was hard to drag her fascinated gaze from him. He was being so honest, so open. She had not expected that candour from a male as sophisticated and powerful as Rico da Silva. And the apology shook her rigid.

In her own way she saw that she had been as prejudiced as he was. She had not been prepared for the strength of will and purpose that he had revealed from the outset of their imprisonment. Survival was the only item on their agenda, he had said. He meant it; he would act on it. But what was really driving him crazy right now, she sensed, was the apparently foolproof setting in which their kidnappers had chosen to place them.

‘Where do you think we are?’

‘If they spent the time I was unconscious driving, we could be hundreds of miles from London. Then again, we could still be inside the city limits.’ He shifted an expressive brown hand, his mouth tightening.