Page 14 of Icebound

He made a face. “Some things are necessary. As long as we’re clear about things now, there should be no more need for violence.”

“What are we clear about?”

He had to admire her bravery. She would serve him very well at the gala, as long as he’d gotten her properly conditioned. “That I’m not your husband. And if you help me, I’ll let you go.”

“I would think once I helped you, I’d no longer be of any use to you and you’d kill me,” she said caustically.

“Such a depressing thought. You won’t know enough to cause me any trouble. All you have to do is accompany me to a party at Lake Como and disappear while I talk to someone. You’ll get a pretty new dress and drink champagne and dance…”

“With you?” she scoffed.

“I’m a very good dancer,” he said. “My wife insisted.”

“Your wife?” There was no missing the shock in her voice.

“I’m married, didn’t I tell you? To a very jealous woman named Maddalena. If she knew about you, she’d be quite angry. So you see, I can’t be married to you.”

“How long have you been married?”

“A long time, chérie. We don’t usually live together, but she’s quite possessive anyway. She doesn’t need to know about you.”

“Why can’t she help you?

He smiled at her, quite sweetly, and she blinked in sudden confusion. “Because I don’t trust her.”

“But you trust me? That’s ridiculous!” she said.

“Nevertheless, it’s true. Ah, here comes Luc with your dinner. I imagine you’re hungry.”

She stared doubtfully down at the bowl of cassoulet Luc set before her. “Is it poisoned?” she demanded.

“So distrusting. I’ve told you, we’re not going to kill you,” Bastien said wearily.

“And I’m supposed to believe you? What if I refuse to help you?” she shot back, making no effort to pick up the spoon.

“Then things change,” he said. “It’s a simple choice. Help me and walk free. Refuse, and things become complicated.”

He saw the flash of real fear in her eyes. Good. She needed to realize he wasn’t bluffing. “I’ll help you.”

“Of course you will. Now eat your cassoulet. You must be famished.”

She stared down at it. And then she picked up her spoon and began to eat.

Chapter

Six

She never thought she’d managed to sleep. Luc had made her a bed in the main room, off to one side but in constant sight of the man who said he wasn’t her husband, and she lay down on the lumpy surface, certain she’d toss and turn all night. She fell immediately, deeply asleep, with no dreams, no awareness, and when she finally awoke, it was late morning, though her sense of time in this underground labyrinth was uncertain. She opened her eyes and saw no one, and she sat up swiftly, ignoring the thousand pains in her body from being tied up for hours.

Maybe she could escape now. If the three of them were out, then all she had to do was find her way through this maze of tunnels. They had to be connected to the public catacombs, somewhere far back. She could blend with the tourists, escape to the street level, and find her way back to her hotel.

She had nothing—the purse she’d been carrying had disappeared, and it had contained money, her cell phone, even her passport. But she could walk, and she’d left money behind in her hotel room. She’d buy a burner phone, call Peter Madsen, and he’d take care of everything.

And Bastien would disappear again, maybe never to resurface. She couldn’t do it. The threats didn’t matter—something would stop him from killing her. His brain might not know her, but his instincts, his body would.

At least she was taking that chance, rather than risk losing him forever. If, by any absurd chance, he wasn’t really her husband, he would know where Bastien was. But she wasn’t going to consider that—it was too ridiculous. The man who looked exactly like her husband, who moved like her husband, had to be Bastien. He didn’t talk like him, his eyes were different, his hair was different, but all of that could be changed. Sooner or later they’d have time together and he could tell her what was going on.

If he even knew. The only other possibility was amnesia, and that was just too damned convenient. He would know her, sooner or later. He would touch her, hold her, and everything would be all right.