Her face clouded. “I thought they were going to rape me. And then leave my body somewhere.”
“Do you remember the men who took you? Could you describe them?”
“I could describe one of them. He followed me for two days. The other—I never really saw his face. I got into a taxi and he was the driver. The other man who’d been following me also got in—and that was it. They took me to a warehouse and blindfolded me. Then they injected me with something. After that, I don’t remember a lot. Impressions. A van. Two men speaking a language I couldn’t quite figure out—maybe a Baltic language. There might have been other people in the van, but I’m not sure.” She tilted her head as she studied him. She wasn’t shrinking in fear anymore and that made him happy. “Are you a policeman or something? Are you investigating those men?”
He popped a piece of melon into his mouth. “Not a policemen. But the more you can tell me about what happened to you, the better.”
“But why? If you aren’t a policeman, what can you do about it?”
Brett smiled at her. “You’d be surprised.”
She flushed red and he knew it was anger. “I hope you find them and I hope you put a stop to what they’re doing. I hope for more than that, but it’s not right to want people to suffer so I won’t say what I really want.”
“You don’t have to say it, Tallie. I know what you want because I want it too. And believe me, if I have my way, everyone who had anything to do with what happened to you will never hurt anyone again. They won’t be able to because they won’t be breathing.”
Chapter Five
Tallie felt better after she ate, but she was still tired and she soon climbed into bed and fell asleep.
When she woke again, it was dark out. The sounds from outside were still there, though maybe not as plentiful as before. She lay beneath the covers and thought about the man who’d bought her.
Brett. It was an interesting name. A memorable name.
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of him, but she wanted to trust him. He seemed sincere in what he’d told her, and he hadn’t tried to touch her at all. Other than the fact he wouldn’t let her call home or leave, he seemed quite normal.
She called up everything she could remember about him. He was tall, about six-two or three, and he’d been wearing a button-down shirt, open at the collar, tucked into dark trousers. He had dark hair, green eyes that seemed honest, and a couple of days growth of beard that made him look a little dangerous and a lot handsome.
If she’d encountered him under other circumstances, she’d have run home and called Sharon to tell her all about the hottie she’d met.
She frowned as she wondered if there’d been a ring on his finger. She didn’t remember one, but she hadn’t been watching his hands much. She pictured him eating food with her, and she still couldn’t decide if there’d been a ring or not.
Not that it mattered. Once this was over, she would probably never see him again—not that she even wanted to.
She didn’t know how long she had to stay here, but it couldn’t be much longer. Then she’d go home and Brett would keep doing whatever it was he did for his job.
Not a policeman, but something like it, she imagined.
Unless she was completely wrong and this entire thing was a hoax. If he was just telling her what she wanted to hear before he did bad things to her.
Until he let her call home, anything was possible.
Even if her gut feeling told her she could trust him, she had to be wary. She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. When she returned, she spotted shopping bags sitting on the table they’d eaten at earlier. She went over and reached tentatively inside the first.
She pulled out panties and bras. She quickly slipped into some underwear, then checked the next bag. There were pants in this one. Another bag revealed shirts and a knit dress. She pulled on the knit dress with a pair of tights and added the Italian leather knee boots she found in yet another bag. There was also a pair of ankle boots, and some loafers.
Everything was high quality, and all in her size. She let out a breath, feeling almost normal now. She went back into the bathroom and found a brush. It didn’t take much to make her hair behave. When she was done, she stepped back and looked at herself in the floor-length mirror on one wall.
She didn’t look like a woman who’d been kidnapped and sold to the highest bidder.
Of course the outer door was locked again. She leaned against it and listened.
“Hello?” she called. “Is anybody out there? Thank you for the clothing.”
A key scraped in the lock a few moments later and Tallie stepped back just in time. The door swung open and the woman who’d brought breakfast stood there. She wasn’t a big woman, but she was still bigger than Tallie.
Tallie dismissed the idea of trying to push her down and run. She probably wouldn’t get far if she tried.
“Buona sera, signorina. You are hungry?”
“I think so. Where is Brett?”
“The signore said to bring you downstairs when you were awake, if you wished.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then please come.”
The woman strode from the room and Tallie followed, hardly believing they’d let her out. The ceilings in the hallway were tall like in her bedroom, the floors stone. The palazzo was furnished with antiques, both French and Italian, and the walls featured carved friezes and gilding along with what looked like silk wallpaper.
This was the sort of place that her mother would hate. Mary Claire loved to mix modern and antique styles in her interiors, but Tallie was primarily old-world style all the way. She loved a room filled with oriental carpets, wooden cabinets, old oil paintings, and white couches to provide that pop of something that brought a room alive. The white stood out, but it also didn’t overpower the stars of the show which were the antiques and rugs.
Tallie followed the woman down a wide marble staircase and into a room with a massive fireplace where a small fire burned. Two men sat in high-backed chairs near the fireplace. They looked up when she walked in.
Brett stood. So did the other man.
“I will serve dinner in fifteen minutes,” the woman said before disappearing again.
Tallie glanced around the room, taking it all in. She wasn’t free yet, but she almost felt like she was.
“You found the clothes,” Brett said.
“Yes. Thank you. The sizes are perfect.”
“Good.” He looked at the other man. “Tallie, this is Colt. He works with me.”
The other man was also tall, also good-looking. Blond where Brett was dark. “Hi, Tallie. How are you feeling?”
She was about to fall back on her ingrained politeness, but she decided to just tell the truth. What did it matter?
“Confused. Scared. A bit angry.” She shrugged self-consciously. “I’ve never been abducted before, so I don’t think I quite know what to feel.”
“Understandable,” he said.
“Can I go home yet?”
Brett and Colt exchanged a look. “Not yet, I’m afraid,” Brett said. “A couple of days.”
Despair rolled through her. What if they were lying?
“My mother will be frantic.” Mary Claire might be a perfectionist, she might think Tallie needed a lot of improvement, but she loved her daughter and she would be worried. Tallie hated to think of her mother believing she’d lost her remaining child.
“My boss has been in touch with her,” Brett said. “She knows you’ve been found, and she knows you’re well.”
Tallie blinked at them both. “And she just accepted that? Without speaking to me?”
That wasn’t very likely. Her mother wasn’t a pushover. When Mary Claire made up her mind, obstacles fell to the wayside as she bulldozed right through them.
“The boss is very persuasive. She’s placated for the moment, though she expects to hear from you soon.”
Tallie’s heart thumped. “You mean I’ll be able to
talk to her?”
“Of course you will.” Brett came over to her side, but he didn’t touch her. He just gazed down at her with those green, soulful eyes that compelled her to trust him. “You aren’t a prisoner, Tallie. Not anymore. We’ll be leaving here in a couple of days and flying home.”
She wanted to believe him. “I hope so,” she said, her throat tight.
“I know it seems like you should be able to go now, but we have to make sure we aren’t being watched. It’s safer for you that way.”
“Watched?” Tallie shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone care now that—” She swallowed. “Now that night is over?”
He frowned. She wasn’t sure he’d tell her anything at all, but then he spoke. “It’s complicated, but there are very bad people involved and a lot of money. It didn’t end with the auction, unfortunately. I need you to trust me. I will get you home again. I promise.”
Brett hated that he couldn’t just send Tallie Grant on her way, but it wasn’t that easy. First, they had to get her a new passport—a real one, not a fake one—and then they had to lay the groundwork to get her back home.
The hotel in Avignon had reported her missing, so Ian had to deal with police reports and claiming her luggage. It wouldn’t take him too long, but a couple of days was standard.
Then there was the matter of convincing her that she couldn’t talk about her ordeal. To anyone. Not her mother, not her friends, not the police.
He didn’t know Tallie all that well, but he had a feeling that part was going to be the most difficult of all. She wasn’t the kind of woman who was going to accept what had happened to her without wanting to fight back somehow.
She stood near, her scent invading his senses. It was the shampoo, but it was also her. Sweet. Vanilla and violet, maybe.
Her gaze darted between him and Colt. Dressed as she was in a knit dress and boots, she didn’t look like a teenage girl anymore. She was small, slender, and youthful. But not jailbait, thank God.
Her hair was barely shoulder length, and it twisted and turned in golden curls that looked like she’d spent time in a salon. She wasn’t wearing makeup, because he hadn’t thought to ask her if she wanted any, but she didn’t really need to. Her eyes were even more remarkable now than they had been earlier.
He didn’t know how that was possible, but it probably had something to do with her being dressed and looking like a woman instead of a frightened child.
The golden-green and blue were striking. Just the sort of thing Heinrich von Kassel would be fascinated with. The man collected things. And some of those things were apparently human.
“I think you paid a lot of money for me,” she said softly. “Why did you do that?”
He hesitated. Colt arched an eyebrow. Yes, why had he done it? It’d been an instinct, a compulsion. Once he’d lifted his paddle, he’d known he wasn’t quitting. No matter the cost.
There were many things he could say, but he went with the most basic of them.
“Because you looked like you were about seventeen. And you were terrified.”
She dropped her gaze. “I should thank you for saving me. I haven’t done that yet.”
For some reason, a current of anger ripped through him. “Don’t thank me. If they hadn’t made you look so young, I wouldn’t have done it.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. She looked afraid again and he cursed himself for saying it.
Beside him, Colt murmured, “Dude, chill.”
Brett drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
A furrow appeared on her brow. “I think I understand. You wanted to help everyone, not just me. But you chose me. I’m very glad you did.”
His heart throbbed one painful beat before going back to normal. He had wanted to help them all. Knowing he hadn’t been able to was something he wasn’t likely to soon forget.
The women would be freed, because Ian Black would make sure of it, but it was going to take a little time to get it done.
Signora Ricci appeared in the entry. “If you will please go to the dining room, dinner is ready.”
They went into the huge room with the soaring ceilings and the long table that could seat twenty and took their seats at one end. Brett sat at the end with Colt on his left and Tallie on his right. Signora Ricci had lit candles, which was a little bit of overkill, but it made her happy, so whatever.
She’d placed all the food on the table so they could pass it between them, though whenever anyone’s cover required it, she gathered up her staff and served a sumptuous meal course by course. Carter Walker’s cover would require that level of detail should he have dinner guests, but since it was only the three of them tonight, it wasn’t necessary.
“Wine?” Brett asked Tallie as he picked up the open bottle of Montepulciano.
She hesitated. Then she shook her head, her hair gleaming in the candlelight. “No, thank you.”
He didn’t push. Brett poured a glass for himself and then Colt took the bottle, also pouring a glass. Tallie had water.
They ate marinated vegetables with creamy mozzarella, a seafood stew that Brett knew was one of Signora Ricci’s specialties, tender beef with grilled asparagus, and pasta with a simple sauce of oil, garlic, and pepper.
There were cheeses and fruit for after the meal, and a bottle of Prosecco chilling on the sideboard. Signora Ricci would return with espressos when they were ready for them.
“Do you travel to Europe often?” Colt asked Tallie.
Brett hadn’t said anything to her because he hadn’t known what to say. Now he felt like an idiot.
“Yes,” Tallie said. “France mostly. This was my first solo trip, though.” She frowned. “I’m not sure I’ll want to travel again anytime soon.”
“You were buying antiques for your mother’s interior design business?” Brett asked, though he already knew the answer.
She nodded. “Yes. We buy about four times a year. After we fill a shipping crate, it gets sent back home and then we sell the items in the shop, or Mom uses them in her interiors. There’s a terrific markup—but she’s long-established in the business and has no shortage of clients.”
“Mary Claire Grant Interiors in Williamsburg, Virginia,” Brett said.
“That’s her. I work as an interior designer and buyer there.”
“And you live in Williamsburg.” She’d told him that earlier, but it was something to say.
“I do. I love Williamsburg, especially Colonial Williamsburg. It’s such a wonderful place to live. So alive with history.” She took a sip of water and fixed him with a stare. “You said you live in Maryland. What part?”
He probably shouldn’t have said anything at all, but it was too late now. “The Eastern Shore.”
“Oh, that’s beautiful. So peaceful and quiet.”
“It can be.”
“And what about you, Colt? Where do you live?”
Colt shot him a look. “Also Maryland. HQ is there.”
Colt was typically recalcitrant to talk, but Brett knew that Colt had only decided to park himself in Maryland recently. He also knew—or suspected—it had a lot to do with one Angelica Turner. Colt had met Angie when he’d been working a mission with Jace Kaiser, who’d been protecting Dr. Madeline Cole from an assassin.
Angie was Maddy’s best friend. After Colt was shot during that mission, Angie had visited him in the hospital and seemed to be interested in seeing him afterward. But then she’d cooled off and nobody seemed to know why.
Colt had—with the help of Brett, Ty, and Jace—paid a visit to the man who’d tried to force himself on Angie when she was doing some work for him. It had been satisfying to watch a blowhard like Tom Walls quake in his boots at the sight of the four of them.
But Angie still wasn’t giving Colt the time of day, which made Brett wonder if his reason for camping out in Maryland had something to do with bringing her around.
Frankly, Brett didn’t think she was
worth that much trouble. In fact, he didn’t think any woman was worth that much trouble. He’d go to the ends of the earth to save them, make sure they were safe and in control of their own lives, but settling down damned sure wasn’t for him.
Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it.
“We have clients in Maryland,” Tallie said.
Colt’s phone rang and he lifted it to his ear as he stood. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
Brett cocked an ear but he couldn’t hear anything as Colt strode out the door, seeking privacy—or maybe trying not to be rude since Tallie had been talking.
“How are you feeling now?” Brett asked.
Tallie’s eyes widened with fear. Brett cursed himself.
“I didn’t mean how are you feeling now, like I expect you to be feeling sleepy because I’ve drugged you. I meant how are you feeling now that you’ve been awake for a while. Your appetite seems good.”
She grasped the empty wine glass on her right. “You know, I think I’d like just a taste of that wine after all.”
He poured in a splash and she stopped him before he could add too much. She took a small sip and swallowed. Then she looked up at him, a look of regret in her gaze.
“I’m feeling pretty good, thank you. And I’m sorry for jumping to the worst conclusion, but this is a new experience for me and I guess I’m still not quite sure how to react.”
“It’s understandable. A lot has happened to you. And I’m asking a lot of you in requesting your trust without seeming to offer anything in return.” He hoped he didn’t regret this next part. “Would you like to go outside? There’s a big terrace where we could sit and watch the boat traffic.”
Her expression lit up with joy. “Really? Could we maybe go for a walk as well?”
He shook his head. “No walks. I’m sorry. But the terrace will be safe enough. We can have coffee out there.”
She took another sip of wine. Her gaze was troubled, but finally she set the wine down and nodded. “I’d love to go outside.”
Brett stood and offered her his arm. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, and he had a feeling that Tallie Grant was accustomed to gentlemen in her life.
Black Tie: HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries: A Black’s Bandits Novel Page 4