The Art of Retaliation Read online

  “You need food and rest. Are you all right to walk?’ he asked softly.

  Mara nodded and looked at trembling Maxine.

  “Please let Maxine go. It’s just me you want.”

  He appeared impatient with his task.

  “No. I can’t have her running to the police. Now we’ve wasted enough time.”

  Stephane took hold of Mara’s hand to raise her from the sofa. His arm wound around her waist to support her fragile figure as he led her to the door of the apartment.

  He took her straight to the lift that she had been told was out of order and showed the concierge his thanks in monetary terms when they reached the ground floor for the deception.

  There were three other men waiting outside for them standing inconspicuously next to two black Mercedes. One of them opened the car door for Mara.

  “Only six men to kidnap two women, Monsieur Garreau. Don’t you think it would have been safer with more?’ Mara’s sarcasm was biting.

  The billionaire took a breath but said nothing. Yet she couldn’t help feeling satisfaction that her jibe had hit home.

  Maxine was taken to the second car and Stephane sat on the back seat beside Mara. She rested her throbbing head on the back of the seat turning away from him conscious that he was watching her every move with concern after her fainting spell.

  Their journey was about two hours long, and mostly spent in awkward silence after his refusal to tell her where they were going and her frantic attempts to read the road signs. Eventually the movement of the car began to lull Mara into the sleep she craved. She fought desperately to keep her drooping eyes open, wanting to know where they were going and be alert to danger. But it was a battle she was to lose.

  Chapter Two

  Mara woke as their journey neared its end, trying to work out exactly when she had fallen asleep. She glanced at a car rug that was tucked around her body and then at Stephane in surprise. He was looking out of the window away from her.

  She studied his brooding profile trying to figure him out. One minute he was hard with her, asserting she was a criminal and the next he was taking care of her.

  A second later Mara realized he was looking back at her through the window returning the appraisal with hooded eyes. Her cheeks warmed. Embarrassed she let her eyes fall to the seat to meet his body and his other hand that lay leisurely in his lap. She remembered the strength she had felt when he had caught her wrist.

  There was no ring, no marks of ownership, she'd made a mental note despite being angry at herself and here she was doing it again. It was more important that she find out where they were going and diverted her attention to the sights out of her own window. They were going through some quaint old village that was surrounded by fields and vast countryside that appeared to stretch to the ends of the earth. She couldn’t understand why he had brought her here and not stayed in Paris but the reason became evident as they turned a corner and began to follow a single track road across a river. She sat up and strained to get a better look. The 15th century Chateau Albain stretched long and wide in front of them. It was a white building with a smooth dark grey roof and two towers on situated at the back of the main house on either side. The billionaire’s home was illuminated displaying its grandeur and elegance making Mara’s lips part, awed by the enchanting sight.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered under her breath.

  “I’m glad you like it, Mara. You may be spending quite some time there.”

  She refused to acknowledge him or the bait for an argument he threw her, too concerned with obtaining a better view. They entered the chateau’s grounds through the main gate and came to a halt outside the two sets of steps that led up to the main on either side.

  Stepahne took hold of Mara’s arm in a firm hold and led her from the car into the house, greeting the butler warmly. She heard the billionaire request that he arrange for the women’s bags to be removed from the cars and sent to their rooms. He led her in to a wide cream marble hallway flanked by pillars in the middle of which sat a sweeping staircase covered in the centre by a plush red velvet carpet.

  “I see I am getting the red carpet treatment,” Mara laughed sarcastically.

  He ignored the remark and pulled her towards the stairs.

  They stopped on the first floor and entered a large room overlooking what looked like a moat at the back of the house.

  “This will be your room for the moment. Try to make yourself comfortable.”

  Try to make yourself comfortable? You have to be kidding. This luxury and a room with a view. Not the prison cell I expected.

  Mara deliberately hardened her features annoyed at falling for the charm the jail he had confined her in.

  “Yes I suppose it will have to do.”

  She cursed herself inwardly the moment the words came out of her mouth. She sounded like a petulant child and she wanted to scream when she saw another smile on the man’s lips.

  Mara frowned and walked towards the window. Although she wore a mask of disapproval she couldn’t help feeling at being put in the room. Moving around the space she inspected the paintings on the walls and ornaments she dared not pick up.

  She ran a gentle hand along the soft back of the sofa sitting in front of a large white fireplace that was the highlight of the room. A portrait of a young woman in 18th century dress looked down at her from above it.

  ‘Who is she?’ Mara asked.

  Stephane moved next to her causing her skin to prickle and flush. She tried in vain to dismiss the reaction reminding herself that she was his prisoner and moved away from him. Hadn’t she learned anything from Ryan? Men were trouble, especially those who kidnapped you.

  “The Countess of Albain in 1642.”

  Mara stood fixed with a blank look on her face, careful not to betray any emotion that would make him believe he had kidnapped her senses and self control. But as she listened to the gentle French lilt wanting him to continue, her resolve softened as though his voice was a caress she was powerless to resist. She kept her attention on the picture but could feel the heavy weight of Stephane Garreau’s haunting hypnotic blue eyes watching her intently. He gave a small laugh.

  “She never married, quite a fiery lady that couldn’t be tamed by all accounts.”

  He was looking at her again and something told Mara he wasn’t just talking about the Countess.

  “Never took any nonsense from her men,” he informed with a grin looking directly at Mara.

  She smiled with approval and turned to walk across the cream carpet towards the bed on the other side of the room suddenly aware of how tired she felt. The sheets were made of sumptuous white silk on top of which sat a silk white and light taupe patterned duvet. Everything about the room was elegant and luxuriant in its modern design. Behind the bed sat a large velvet square taupe headboard surrounded by an ornate silver frame and, as were the curtains hanging around it. It was beckoning her, enticing her to sleep and she couldn’t wait for him to leave so she could rest, regroup and commence the battle again tomorrow.

  He appeared to have read her thoughts.

  “I will leave you now. You need to get some rest. I will call my doctor in the morning and get him to examine you. You seemed to be dizzy before you fainted and don’t appear well. I didn’t like how pale you were when you slept in the car. Are you ill?”

  “No,” she snapped. “No, it’s nothing really. My doctor keeps insisting that I am overworked. The dizziness is just a symptom. I need some sleep.”

  “Well, we will see you get that rest. After all you will have plenty of time on your hands,” Stephane replied curtly watching the butler bring in Mara’s suitcase and briefcase.

  “Why all the concern?” she sneered. “What do you care if I am ill or not as long as you get what you want from Ryan.”

  Stephane walked to the side of the room and shut an open window that was casting a chilly breeze around the room. He closed the heavy damask curtains and then returned to answer the question.
To be ignored with such arrogance only served to fuel Mara’s anger and he damn well knew it.

  “Because I am not a criminal and have no wish to see you hurt. I have no desire to keep you prisoner but Ryan has forced my hand. While you are under this roof both Maxine and yourself will be given the necessary courtesy and care. If you need anything just pick up the phone and dial zero, and no it doesn’t have an outside line. I will have some food sent up. Goodnight.”

  “No you don’t. I want to know more about what is going on,” thoughts of sleep suddenly erased from her mind.

  She was holding of his arm, tugging him back. He made to remove her hand, but allowed her delicate fingers to linger in his own hand stroking a thumb over them. Her skin felt silky against his smooth male hand. She stared watching him caress her mesmerized and lulled in to compliant softness before her anger returned making her snatch her hand back.

  So this is your line of attack, seduction.

  Mara’s eyes narrowed. The French billionaire had picked the wrong woman to mess with. He moved closer and involuntarily she found herself taking a step back a suddenly a little fearful of his male presence and the power he was exerting over her senses. He stopped frowning at her fear of him. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and looked at her with confusion. Then he said,

  “Get some rest. We will discuss it further in the morning. Go to bed,’ he commanded then he was gone and to her horror he locked the door behind him.

  Mara woke the next morning to bright sunlight attempting to penetrate the heavy curtains. A chorus of birds chattered noisily in the grounds somewhere, mixing with the melodic cooing of a distant wood pigeon. She threw the covers off her body and surveyed her surroundings. The room was fit for a princess. She eased herself up off the bed towards the window and moved the curtains to create a space in between them. The contrast of the brightness made the room light and airy forcing her to blink.

  She opened the window feeling the early warmth of the day on her face. There was a slight breeze rustling the leaves on the trees across the moat, and the water lilies that congregated in a group in the water below her window were just opening for the day. She took in a deep breath of clean country air and leaned against the window frame taking in the idyllic scenery.

  “Up already, Mara? I had hoped to wake you with breakfast in bed.”

  Mara turned around to find the billionaire standing in the middle of the room.

  “Don’t you knock on doors?” she complained walking to the bed to reach for her short robe to cover the equally short night-dress she was wearing. She fastened the belt tight around her waist, annoyed that he had caught her off guard.

  The housekeeper entered the room behind him and put a breakfast tray on the table next to the fireplace. She said nothing and courteously made the pretense of ignoring their conversation as she pulled the curtains to their sides and tied them back.

  “What do you want?” Mara snapped walking over to the tray to inspect its contents deliberately trying to ignore his handsome appearance in a navy suit with a white shirt and teal tie.

  “I came to see how you were feeling,” he told her sitting down on one of the comfortable taupe chairs around the fireplace and table.

  Mara rolled her eyes with frustration. He was staying. Why wouldn’t he leave so she could get dressed and be ready for whatever he was about to throw at her.

  “Fine. I am doing just fine under the circumstances. Now, where have you got Maxine and tell me more about why I am being held captive?”

  “Straight down to business, Mara. I like that.”

  The billionaire was laughing at her through his eyes. The smile that played on his lips, much to her irritation, only made him appear boyish and mischievous in a way that emphasized his attractive features.

  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 d
o.”

  “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.